"Why," Kiddie responded slowly, keeping his Western manner of speech, as was usual with him when addressing Gideon Birkenshaw, "I've come to the conclusion as it ain't just right an' proper o' me ter live here with everything I most covet in the shape of personal comfort--a cosy home in beautiful scenery, with the perfumed pine trees all around, the woodland solitude, where I c'n study the wild critters, beasts an' birds an' insects; the creek an' the lake, where I c'n paddle an' fish; my time all my own, with no slavish duties, no tasks, no responsibilities. An' it's all selfish, Gid, real mean an' selfish."
"Selfish, Kiddie?" Gideon screwed up his eyes in wonder.
"Yes. It ain't anyways right for a man ter live for himself alone, shirkin' his duties ter humanity. What did I do this mornin' that was any good whatever to anybody in th' world but myself? I went out 'fore sunrise, when the blue mist was hangin' round the mountain tops an' in among the trees. It was like a fairy dream. I listened t' th' orchestra of the birds--the woodthrush, the veery, the scarlet tanager an' the rest of the thrillin' songsters--and the music was more delicious 'n any opera I've heard in London an' Paris. I wasted a full hour watchin' a fool centipede that had gotten himself tangled in a spider's web--watched th' manoeuvres of that spider for a full hour, I did."
"I allow you learnt suthin', too, since the spider was at home," interrupted Gid. "Them critters has wonderful skill in tactics. I'm figurin' as that hour wasn't a whole lot wasted, Kiddie."
"It was wasted in selfish enjoyment, selfish gratification," Kiddie insisted.
"Git!" exclaimed Gideon. "You dunno what selfishness means, Kiddie, an' you couldn't be selfish if you tried. You's allus doin' suthin' unselfish. Here's you comin' back to this yer camp an' the Sweetwater district, an' right straight away you starts helpin' other folks, pertectin' their homes from hostile Injuns, makin' their lives smoother an' safer. Is it selfish ter do what you've already done? What about your takin' Jim Thurston's place in th' Express, riskin' yer life, an' precious near losin' it? Was that a act of selfishness?"
"It was my fault that Jim was hurt. I couldn't do otherwise than take his place."