Adventures in Contentment

Hereditaments! Hereditaments! Some words need to be fenced in, pig-tight, so that they cannot escape us; others we prefer to have running at large, indefinite but inclusive. I would not look up that word for anything: I might find it fenced in so that it could not mean to me all that it does now. Hereditaments! May there be many of them--or it! Is it not a fine Providence that gives us different things to love? In the purchase of my farm both Horace and I got the better of the bargain--and yet neither was cheated. In reality a fairly strong lantern light will shine through Horace, and I could see that he was hugging himself with the joy of his bargain; but I was content. I had some money left--what more does anyone want after a bargain?--and I had come into possession of the thing I desired most of all. Looking at bargains from a purely commercial point of view, someone is always cheated, but looked at with the simple eye both seller and buyer always win. We came away from the gravity of that bargaining in Horace's wagon. On our way home Horace gave me fatherly advice about using my farm. He spoke from the height of his knowledge to me, a humble beginner. The conversation ran something like this: HORACE: Thar's a clump of plum trees along the lower pasture fence. Perhaps you saw 'm---- MYSELF: I saw them: that is one reason I bought the back pasture. In May they will be full of blossoms.