Adventures in Contentment

As I worked with my axe and hammer, I heard a light wagon come rattling up the road. Across the valley a man had begun to chop a tree. I could see the axe steel flash brilliantly in the sunshine before I heard the sound of the blow. The man in the wagon had a round face and a sharp blue eye. I thought he seemed a businesslike young man. "Say, there," he shouted, drawing up at my gate, "would you mind holding my horse a minute? It's a cold morning and he's restless." "Certainly not," I said, and I put down my tools and held his horse. He walked up to my door with a brisk step and a certain jaunty poise of the head. "He is well contented with himself," I said. "It is a great blessing for any man to be satisfied with what he has got." I heard Harriet open the door--how every sound rang through the still morning air! The young man asked some question and I distinctly heard Harriet's answer: "He's down there." The young man came back: his hat was tipped up, his quick eye darted over my grounds as though in a single instant he had appraised everything and passed judgment upon the cash value of the inhabitants. He whistled a lively little tune. "Say," he said, when he reached the gate, not at all disconcerted, "I thought you was the hired man. Your name's Grayson, ain't it? Well, I want to talk with you."