Sometimes  I  play  a  round  of  golf,  but  mere
ly  for  amusement.  I  don't  turn  my  hand
over  to  keep  '  in  condition/  my  riding  weight
isn't  a  matter  of  concern  to  me,  I  walk
enough  to  keep  my  nerves  quiet  and  my
digestion  in  order,  and  I  find  steady  enter
tainment,  which  borders  sometimes  on  act
ual  excitement,  in  the  old-fashioned  game
i  129


Lucid    Intervals


of  trying  to  make  a  living.  Really,  it's  a
better  game  than  it's  cracked  up  to  be.  To
chase  a  dollar  is  more  humane  than  to  chase
a  fox,  and  for  all  that  the  fox  is  harder  to
catch  the  dollar  can  make  sharp  turns
sometimes  and  afford  a  really  zealous  pur
suer  some  very  fair  sport.  I  honest^  think
that  in  time  I  may  come  to  be  fairly  good
at  it,  and  I  shall  have  time  to  perfect  my
self,  too.  The  new  life  is  so  easy  compared
with  the  old.  One's  habits  are  so  much
more  regular;  the  blandishments  of  do
mestic  life  and  the  society  of  children  are
so  wholesome;  it  saves  one's  strength  so
to  sit  for  a  while  in  an  office.  I  was  wear
ing  my  poor  old  apparatus  out,  and  now,
at  the  easy  rate  I  am  going,  I  ought  to  live
to  be  eighty."

In    marked,  but   cheerful,  contrast   with

the  case  of  Fessenden,  rejoicing  in  timely

Major  Brace's   deprivations,  is  the  predicament

Embarrass-     of  my  old  friend  Major  Brace,

who    is    willing    to    renounce,

but  lacks  the  means.     He  has  been  telling

me  that   the  rector  of    the  church  which

he  goes  to,  observing  the  sedateness  of  his

130


Riches


walk  and  the  salubriousness  of  his  con
versation,  has  called  his  attention  to  the
expediency  of  becoming  a  somewhat  more
formal  pillar  of  the  temple  by  making  pub
lic  attestation  of  his  connection  with  it.
