Adventures in Contentment

"That's so," said John Starkweather: "if I could only get workmen that believed it." By that time I could see that he was beginning to be interested. I put back the wheel, gave it a light turn and screwed on the nut. He helped me with the other end of the axle with all good humour. "Perhaps," I said, as engagingly as I knew how, "you'd like to try the art yourself? You take the grease this time and I'll steady the wagon." "All right!" he said, laughing, "I'm in for anything." He took the grease box and the paddle--less gingerly than I thought he would. "Is that right?" he demanded, and so he put on the grease. And oh, it was good to see Harriet in the doorway! "Steady there," I said, "not so much at the end: now put the box down on the reach." And so together we greased the wagon, talking all the time in the friendliest way. I actually believe that he was having a pretty good time. At least it had the virtue of unexpectedness. He wasn't bored! When he had finished we both straightened our backs and looked at each other. There was a twinkle in his eye: then we both laughed. "He's all right," I said to myself. I held up my hands, then he held up his: it was hardly necessary to prove that wagon-greasing was not a delicate operation. "It's a good wholesome sign," I said, "but it'll come off. Do you happen to remember a story of Tolstoi's called Ivan the Fool'?"