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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
139
"We're
a
great
people,"
says
Charles
Baxter,
"but
we
don't
always
work
at
it."
"But
we
talk
about
it,"
says
the
Scotch
Preacher.
"By
the
way,"
says
Charles
Baxter,
"have
you
seen
George
Warren?
He's
up
for
supervisor."
"I
haven't
yet."
"Well,
go
around
and
see
him.
We
must
find
out
exactly
what
he
intends
to
do
with
the
Summit
Hill
road.
If
he
is
weak
on
that
we'd
better
look
to
Matt
Devine.
At
least
Matt
is
safe."
The
Scotch
Preacher
looked
at
Charles
Baxter
and
said
to
me
with
a
note
of
admiration
in
his
voice:
"Isn't
this
man
Baxter
getting
to
be
intolerable
as
a
political
boss!"
Baxter's
shop!
Baxter's
shop
stands
close
to
the
road
and
just
in
the
edge
of
a
grassy
old
apple
orchard.
It
is
a
low,
unpainted
building,
with
generous
double
doors
in
front,
standing
irresistibly
open
as
you
go
by.
Even
as
a
stranger
coming
here
first
from
the
city
I
felt
the
call
of
Baxter's
shop.
Shall
I
ever
forget!
It
was
a
still
morning--one
of
those
days
of
warm
sunshine--and
perfect
quiet
in
the
country--and
birds
in
the
branches--and
apple
trees
all
in
bloom.
Baxter
whistling
at
his
work
in
the
sunlit
doorway
of
his
shop,
in
his
long,
faded
apron,
much
worn
at
the
knees.
He
was
bending
to
the
rhythmic
movement
of
his
plane,
and
all
around
him
as
he
worked
rose
billows
of
shavings.
And
oh,
the
odours
of
that
shop!
the
fragrant,
resinous
odour
of
new-cut
pine,
the
pungent
smell
of
black
walnut,
the
dull
odour
of
oak
wood--how
they
stole
out
in
the
sunshine,
waylaying
you
as
you
came
far
up
the
road,
beguiling
you
as
you
passed
the
shop,
and
stealing
reproachfully
after
you
as
you
went
onward
down
the
road.
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