But Adam had been refreshed by his long rest, and with his habitual
impatience of mere passivity, he was eager to begin the new day and
subdue sadness by his strong will and strong arm. The white mist lay in
the valley; it was going to be a bright warm day, and he would start to
work again when he had had his breakfast.
"There's nothing but what's bearable as long as a man can work," he said
to himself; "the natur o' things doesn't change, though it seems as if
one's own life was nothing but change. The square o' four is sixteen,
and you must lengthen your lever in proportion to your weight, is as
true when a man's miserable as when he's happy; and the best o' working
is, it gives you a grip hold o' things outside your own lot."
As he dashed the cold water over his head and face, he felt completely
himself again, and with his black eyes as keen as ever and his thick
black hair all glistening with the fresh moisture, he went into the
workshop to look out the wood for his father's coffin, intending that
he and Seth should carry it with them to Jonathan Burge's and have the
coffin made by one of the workmen there, so that his mother might not
see and hear the sad task going forward at home.
He had just gone into the workshop when his quick ear detected a light
rapid foot on the stairs--certainly not his mother's.
Pages:
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194