ng into camp, she regarded it as
an acquisition, I considered it a calamity; that is a good sample of the
lack of harmony that prevails in our views of things. She wanted to
domesticate it, I wanted to make it a present of the homestead and move
out. She believed it could be tamed by kind treatment and would be a
good pet; I said a pet twenty-one feet high and eighty-four feet long
would be no proper thing to have about the place, because, even with the
best intentions and without meaning any harm, it could sit down on the
house and mash it, for any one could see by the look of its eye that it
was absent-minded.

Still, her heart was set upon having that monster, and she couldn't give
it up. She thought we could start a dairy with it, and wanted me to
help milk it; but I wouldn't; it was too risky. The sex wasn't right,
and we hadn't any ladder anyway. Then she wanted to ride it, and look
at the scenery. Thirty or forty feet of its tail was lying on the
ground, like a fallen tree, and she thought she could climb it, but she
was mistaken; when she got to the steep place it was too slick and down
she came, and would have hurt herself but for me.

Was she satisfied now? No. Nothing ever satisfies her but
demonstration; untested theories are not in her line, and she won't have
them. It is the right spirit, I concede it; it attracts me; I feel the
influence of it; if I were with her more I think I should take it up
myself. Well, she had one theory remaining about this colossus: she
thought that if we could tame it and make him friendly we could stand in
the river and use him for a bridge. It turned out that he was already
plenty tame enough--at least as far as she was concerned--so she tried
her theory, but it failed: every time she got him properly placed in
the river and went ashore to cross over him, he came out and followed
her around like a pet mountain. Like the other animals. They all do
that.

Tuesday--Wednesday--Thursday--and today: all without seeing him. It is
a long time to be alone; still, it is better to be alone than unwelcome.

FRIDAY--I HAD to have company--I was made for it, I think--so I made
friends with the animals. They are just charming, and they have the
kindest disposition and the politest ways; they never look sour, they
never let you feel that you are intruding, they smile at you and wag
their tail, if they've got one, and they are always ready for a romp or
an excursion or