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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
69
He
looked
at
me
in
astonishment,
and
with
evident
impatience
at
my
consummate
stupidity.
"I
am
serious,"
I
said.
"I
really
want
to
make
the
best
I
can
of
my
life.
It's
the
only
one
I've
got."
"See
here,"
he
said:
"let
us
say
you
clear
up
five
hundred
a
year
from
this
farm----"
"You
exaggerate--"
I
interrupted.
"Do
I?"
he
laughed;
"that
makes
my
case
all
the
better.
Now,
isn't
it
possible
to
rise
from
that?
Couldn't
you
make
a
thousand
or
five
thousand
or
even
fifty
thousand
a
year?"
It
seems
an
unanswerable
argument:
fifty
thousand
dollars!
"I
suppose
I
might,"
I
said,
"but
do
you
think
I'd
be
any
better
off
or
happier
with
fifty
thousand
a
year
than
I
am
now?
You
see,
I
like
all
these
surroundings
better
than
any
other
place
I
ever
knew.
That
old
green
hill
over
there
with
the
oak
on
it
is
an
intimate
friend
of
mine.
I
have
a
good
cornfield
in
which
every
year
I
work
miracles.
I've
a
cow
and
a
horse,
and
a
few
pigs.
I
have
a
comfortable
home.
My
appetite
is
perfect,
and
I
have
plenty
of
food
to
gratify
it.
I
sleep
every
night
like
a
boy,
for
I
haven't
a
trouble
in
this
world
to
disturb
me.
I
enjoy
the
mornings
here
in
the
country:
and
the
evenings
are
pleasant.
Some
of
my
neighbours
have
come
to
be
my
good
friends.
I
like
them
and
I
am
pretty
sure
they
like
me.
Inside
the
house
there
I
have
the
best
books
ever
written
and
I
have
time
in
the
evenings
to
read
them--I
mean
really
read
them.
Now
the
question
is,
would
I
be
any
better
off,
or
any
happier,
if
I
had
fifty
thousand
a
year?"
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