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Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
40
"Well,
David,"
she
said,
"I
warned
you
that
you
could
buy
a
helve
cheaper
than
you
could
make
it."
"So
I
can
buy
a
book
cheaper
than
I
can
write
it,"
I
responded.
I
felt
somewhat
pleased
with
my
return
shot,
though
I
took
pains
not
to
show
it.
I
squinted
along
my
hickory
stick
which
was
even
then
beginning
to
assume,
rudely,
the
outlines
of
an
axe-handle.
I
had
made
a
prodigious
pile
of
fine
white
shavings
and
I
was
tired,
but
quite
suddenly
there
came
over
me
a
sort
of
love
for
that
length
of
wood.
I
sprung
it
affectionately
over
my
knee,
I
rubbed
it
up
and
down
with
my
hand,
and
then
I
set
it
in
the
corner
behind
the
fireplace.
"After
all,"
I
said,
for
I
had
really
been
disturbed
by
Harriet's
remark--"after
all,
power
over
one
thing
gives
us
power
over
everything.
When
you
mend
socks
prospectively--into
futurity--Harriet,
that
is
an
evidence
of
true
greatness."
"Sometimes
I
think
it
doesn't
pay,"
remarked
Harriet,
though
she
was
plainly
pleased.
"Pretty
good
socks,"
I
said,
"can
be
bought
for
fifteen
cents
a
pair."
Harriet
looked
at
me
suspiciously,
but
I
was
as
sober
as
the
face
of
nature.
For
the
next
two
or
three
evenings
I
let
the
axe-helve
stand
alone
in
the
corner.
I
hardly
looked
at
it,
though
once
in
a
while,
when
occupied
with
some
other
work,
I
would
remember,
or
rather
half
remember,
that
I
had
a
pleasure
in
store
for
the
evening.
The
very
thought
of
sharp
tools
and
something,
to
make
with
them
acts
upon
the
imagination
with
peculiar
zest.
So
we
love
to
employ
the
keen
edge
of
the
mind
upon
a
knotty
and
difficult
subject.
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