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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
7
And
I
look
out
upon
them
not
in
the
surroundings
which
they
have
chosen
for
themselves,
but
from
the
vantage
ground
of
my
familiar
world.
The
symbols
which
meant
so
much
in
cities
mean
little
here.
Sometimes
it
seems
to
me
as
though
I
saw
men
naked.
They
come
and
stand
beside
my
oak,
and
the
oak
passes
solemn
judgment;
they
tread
my
furrows
and
the
clods
give
silent
evidence;
they
touch
the
green
blades
of
my
corn,
the
corn
whispers
its
sure
conclusions.
Stern
judgments
that
will
be
deceived
by
no
symbols!
Thus
I
have
delighted,
secretly,
in
calling
myself
an
unlimited
farmer,
and
I
make
this
confession
in
answer
to
the
inner
and
truthful
demand
of
the
soul
that
we
are
not,
after
all,
the
slaves
of
things,
whether
corn,
or
banknotes,
or
spindles;
that
we
are
not
the
used,
but
the
users;
that
life
is
more
than
profit
and
loss.
And
so
I
shall
expect
that
while
I
am
talking
farm
some
of
you
may
be
thinking
dry
goods,
banking,
literature,
carpentry,
or
what-not.
But
if
you
can
say:
I
am
an
unlimited
dry
goods
merchant,
I
am
an
unlimited
carpenter,
I
will
give
you
an
old-fashioned
country
hand-shake,
strong
and
warm.
We
are
friends;
our
orbits
coincide.
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