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158
Adventures in Contentment
·
David Grayson
92
"I
think,"
he
said,
"it
hastened
her
death."
He
would
not
go
to
the
funeral;
he
did
not
dare,
he
said.
He
cried
and
fought
when
they
came
to
take
him
away,
and
when
the
house
was
silent
he
ran
up
to
her
room
and
buried
his
head
in
her
pillows
and
ran
in
swift
imagination
to
her
funeral.
He
said
he
could
see
himself
in
the
country
road,
hurrying
in
the
cold
rain--for
it
seemed
raining--he
said
he
could
actually
feel
the
stones
and
ruts,
although
he
could
not
tell
how
it
was
possible
that
he
should
have
seen
himself
at
a
distance
and
felt
in
his
own
feet
the
stones
of
the
road.
He
said
he
saw
the
box
taken
from
the
wagon--saw
it--and
that
he
heard
the
sound
of
the
clods
thrown
in,
and
it
made
him
shriek
until
they
came
running
and
held
him.
As
he
grew
older
he
said
he
came
to
live
everything
beforehand,
and
that
the
event
as
imagined
was
so
far
more
vivid
and
affecting
that
he
had
no
heart
for
the
reality
itself.
"It
seems
strange
to
you,"
he
said,
"but
I
am
telling
you
exactly
what
my
experience
was."
It
was
curious,
he
said,
when
his
father
told
him
he
must
not
do
a
thing,
how
he
went
on
and
imagined
in
how
many
different
ways
he
could
do
it--and
how,
afterward,
he
imagined
he
was
punished
by
that
"worm,"
his
father,
whom
he
seemed
to
hate
bitterly.
Of
those
early
days,
in
which
he
suffered
acutely--in
idleness,
apparently--and
perhaps
that
was
one
of
the
causes
of
his
disorder--he
told
us
at
length,
but
many
of
the
incidents
were
so
evidently
worn
by
the
constant
handling
of
his
mind
that
they
gave
no
clear
impression.
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