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It is not s

that befell me, now or afterward, lest this history prove

wearisorave doubts already) Suffice it then that as the days grew

into weeks, and the weeks into months, by perseverance I became

reasonably expert atwith Black George, I could shoe a horse with any smith in

the country

But, more than this, the people hom I associated day by

day--honest, loyal, and simple-hearted as they were, contented

with their lot, and receiving all things so unquestioningly and

thankfully, filled reat calm to a mind

that had, hitherto, been somewhat self-centred and troubled by

pessies

What book is there to coes are forever a-turning, wherein are s to weep over, and soh at, if one

but has eyes in one's head to see withal?

To walk through the whispering cornfields, or the long, green

alleys of the hop-gardens with Si, to hear him tell of fruit and flower, of bird and

beast, is better than to read the Georgics of Virgil

To sit in the sunshine and watch the Ancient, pipe in mouth, to

hearken to his animadversions upon Life, and Death, and Humanity,