Adventures in Contentment

"When you commiserate me, therefore" ("I'm sure I shall never do it again," said John Starkweather)--"when you commiserate me, therefore, and advise me to rise, you must give me really good reasons for changing my occupation and becoming a millionnaire. You must prove to me that I can be more independent, more honest, more useful as a millionnaire, and that I shall have better and truer friends!" John Starkweather looked around at me (I knew I had been absurdly eager and I was rather ashamed of myself) and put his hand on my knee (he has a wonderfully fine eye!). "I don't believe," he said, "you'd have any truer friends." "Anyway," I said repentantly, "I'll admit that millionnaires have their place--at present I wouldn't do entirely away with them, though I do think they'd enjoy farming better. And if I were to select a millionnaire for all the best things I know, I should certainly choose you, Mr. Starkweather." He jumped up. "You know who I am?" he asked. I nodded. "And you knew all the time?" I nodded. "Well, you're a good one!" We both laughed and fell to talking with the greatest friendliness. I led him down my garden to show him my prize pie-plant, of which I am enormously proud, and I pulled for him some of the finest stalks I could find. "Take it home," I said, "it makes the best pies of any pie-plant in this country." He took it under his arm. "I want you to come over and see me the first chance you get," he said. "I'm going to prove to you by physical demonstration that it's better sport to be a millionnaire than a farmer--not that I am a millionnaire: I'm only accepting the reputation you give me."