“Thank you, sir; —­but I am afraid Mannahatta would be too expensive for me.”

“Perhaps. —­ But vere will you go?”

“I don’t know sir, yet.”

“But ven you get through, you will come to Mannahatta and let me see what you have made of yourself?”

Winthrop shook his head.  “I don’t know when that will be, Mr.
Herder.”

They were walking through a tangled woodland, along one of the deep mountain gorges; the naturalist stopping frequently to give closer notice to something.  He stood still here to examine a piece of rock.

“Will you let me give you one little direction,” said he producing his little hammer, —­ “two little direction, or I should call them big direction, which may be of some goot to you?”

“I wish you would, sir.”

“In de first place den, don’t never go half way through nozing.  If some thing you want to know is in de middle of dat rock,” said he striking it, “knock de rock all to pieces but what you will have it.  I mean, when you begin, finish, and do it goot.”

“That is what I think, Mr. Herder.”

“In de second place,” continued Mr. Herder, illustrating part of his former speech by hammering off some pieces of rock from the mass, —­ “don’t never think that no kind of knowledge is of no use to you.  Dere is nozing dat it is not goot to know.  You may say, it is no use to you to know dat colour of de outside of dis rock, and dis colour of de inside; you are wrong; you ought to learn to know it if you can; and you will find de use before you die, wizout you be a very misfortunate man.  Dere is nozing little in dis world; all is truth, or it will help you find out truth; and you cannot know too much.”

“I believe that, sir; and I will remember it.”

“And when you have learned English and Latin and Greek, you will learn German?” said the naturalist, putting the fragments of rock in his pocket.

Winthrop laughed at his expression.

“Promise me dat you will.  You will find it of use to you too.”

“But all useful things are not possible,” said Winthrop.

“I wish it was possible for you to bring down that bird,” said the naturalist, gazing up towards a pair of huge wings above them; —­ “It would be very useful to me.”  The creature was sailing through the distant ether in majestic style, moving its wings so little that they seemed an emblem of powerful repose.

“That is a white-headed eagle,” said Winthrop.

“I know him!” said the naturalist, still gazing.  “I wish I had him; —­ but dat is a thing in which is no goot; as he is too far off for me to reach him.  Better for him!  And it will be better for us to go home, for the day is not very long.”

Neither was Mr. Herder’s stay in the mountains after that.  At parting he assured Winthrop “he should be very glad to do him all the goot he could do, if he would only let him know how.”