There is a turmoil of youth and life always about him; of fevered
incomings and excited outgoings, of work and laughter and tears and joy
and anger. He watches it all, for his mind is still clear, but he does
not take sides. He accepts everything, refuses nothing; or, if you like,
he refuses everything, accepts nothing.
He once owned the house where he now lives, with the great barns behind
it and the fertile acres spreading far on every hand. From his chair he
can look out through a small window, and see the sun on the quiet
fields. He once went out swiftly and strongly, he worked hotly, he came
in wearied to sleep.
Now he lives in a small room--and that is more than is really
necessary--and when he walks out he does not inquire who owns the land
where he treads. He lets the hot world go by, and waits with patience
the logic of events.
Often as I have passed him in the road, I have wondered, as I have been
wondering to-day, how he must look out upon us all, upon our excited
comings and goings, our immense concern over the immeasurably trivial. I
have wondered, not without a pang, and a resolution, whether I shall
ever reach the point where I can let this eager and fascinating world go
by without taking toll of it!
XII
THE CELEBRITY
Not for many weeks have I had a more interesting, more illuminating, and
when all is told, a more amusing experience, than I had this afternoon.
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