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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
125
XII
AN
EVENING
AT
HOME
"How
calm
and
quiet
a
delight
Is
it,
alone,
To
read
and
meditate
and
write,
By
none
offended,
and
offending
none.
To
walk,
ride,
sit
or
sleep
at
one's
own
ease,
And,
pleasing
a
man's
self,
none
other
to
displease."
--Charles
Cotton,
a
friend
of
Izaak
Walton,
1650
During
the
last
few
months
so
many
of
the
real
adventures
of
life
have
been
out
of
doors
and
so
much
of
the
beauty,
too,
that
I
have
scarcely
written
a
word
about
my
books.
In
the
summer
the
days
are
so
long
and
the
work
so
engrossing
that
a
farmer
is
quite
willing
to
sit
quietly
on
his
porch
after
supper
and
watch
the
long
evenings
fall--and
rest
his
tired
back,
and
go
to
bed
early.
But
the
winter
is
the
true
time
for
indoor
enjoyment!
Days
like
these!
A
cold
night
after
a
cold
day!
Well
wrapped,
you
have
made
arctic
explorations
to
the
stable,
the
chicken-yard
and
the
pig-pen;
you
have
dug
your
way
energetically
to
the
front
gate,
stopping
every
few
minutes
to
beat
your
arms
around
your
shoulders
and
watch
the
white
plume
of
your
breath
in
the
still
air--and
you
have
rushed
in
gladly
to
the
warmth
of
the
dining-room
and
the
lamp-lit
supper.
After
such
a
day
how
sharp
your
appetite,
how
good
the
taste
of
food!
Harriet's
brown
bread
(moist,
with
thick,
sweet,
dark
crusts)
was
never
quite
so
delicious,
and
when
the
meal
is
finished
you
push
back
your
chair
feeling
like
a
sort
of
lord.
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