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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
18
I
had
come
here
to
be
free
and
already
this
farm,
which
I
thought
of
so
fondly
as
my
possession,
was
coming
to
possess
me.
Ownership
is
an
appetite
like
hunger
or
thirst,
and
as
we
may
eat
to
gluttony
and
drink
to
drunkenness
so
we
may
possess
to
avarice.
How
many
men
have
I
seen
who,
though
they
regard
themselves
as
models
of
temperance,
wear
the
marks
of
unbridled
indulgence
of
the
passion
of
possession,
and
how
like
gluttony
or
licentiousness
it
sets
its
sure
sign
upon
their
faces.
I
said
to
myself,
Why
should
any
man
fence
himself
in?
And
why
hope
to
enlarge
one's
world
by
the
creeping
acquisition
of
a
few
acres
to
his
farm?
I
thought
of
the
old
scientist,
who,
laying
his
hand
upon
the
grass,
remarked:
"Everything
under
my
hand
is
a
miracle"--forgetting
that
everything
outside
was
also
a
miracle.
As
I
stood
there
I
glanced
across
the
broad
valley
wherein
lies
the
most
of
my
farm,
to
a
field
of
buckwheat
which
belongs
to
Horace.
For
an
instant
it
gave
me
the
illusion
of
a
hill
on
fire:
for
the
late
sun
shone
full
on
the
thick
ripe
stalks
of
the
buckwheat,
giving
forth
an
abundant
red
glory
that
blessed
the
eye.
Horace
had
been
proud
of
his
crop,
smacking
his
lips
at
the
prospect
of
winter
pancakes,
and
here
I
was
entering
his
field
and
taking
without
hindrance
another
crop,
a
crop
gathered
not
with
hands
nor
stored
in
granaries:
a
wonderful
crop,
which,
once
gathered,
may
long
be
fed
upon
and
yet
remain
unconsumed.
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