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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
12
Have
you
ever
had
anyone
give
you
up
as
hopeless?
And
is
it
not
a
pleasure?
It
is
only
after
people
resign
you
to
your
fate
that
you
really
make
friends
of
them.
For
how
can
you
win
the
friendship
of
one
who
is
trying
to
convert
you
to
his
superior
beliefs?
As
we
talked,
then,
Horace
and
I,
I
began
to
have
hopes
of
him.
There
is
no
joy
comparable
to
the
making
of
a
friend,
and
the
more
resistant
the
material
the
greater
the
triumph.
Baxter,
the
carpenter,
says
that
when
he
works
for
enjoyment
he
chooses
curly
maple.
When
Horace
set
me
down
at
my
gate
that
afternoon
he
gave
me
his
hand
and
told
me
that
he
would
look
in
on
me
occasionally,
and
that
if
I
had
any
trouble
to
let
him
know.
A
few
days
later
I
heard
by
the
roundabout
telegraph
common
in
country
neighbourhoods
that
Horace
had
found
a
good
deal
of
fun
in
reporting
what
I
said
about
farming
and
that
he
had
called
me
by
a
highly
humorous
but
disparaging
name.
Horace
has
a
vein
of
humour
all
his
own.
I
have
caught
him
alone
in
his
fields
chuckling
to
himself,
and
even
breaking
out
in
a
loud
laugh
at
the
memory
of
some
amusing
incident
that
happened
ten
years
ago.
One
day,
a
month
or
more
after
our
bargain,
Horace
came
down
across
his
field
and
hitched
his
jean-clad
leg
over
my
fence,
with
the
intent,
I
am
sure,
of
delving
a
little
more
in
the
same
rich
mine
of
humour.
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