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Daddy Long Legs

Page 54

I only saw Master Jervie once when he called at tea time, and then I

didn't have a chance to speak to him alone. It was really

disappointing after our nice time last summer. I don't think he cares

much for his relatives--and I am sure they don't care much for him!

Julia's mother says he's unbalanced. He's a Socialist--except, thank

Heaven, he doesn't let his hair grow and wear red ties. She can't

imagine where he picked up his queer ideas; the family have been Church

of England for generations. He throws away his money on every sort of

crazy reform, instead of spending it on such sensible things as yachts

and automobiles and polo ponies. He does buy candy with it though! He

sent Julia and me each a box for Christmas.

You know, I think I'll be a Socialist, too. You wouldn't mind, would

you, Daddy? They're quite different from Anarchists; they don't

believe in blowing people up. Probably I am one by rights; I belong to

the proletariat. I haven't determined yet just which kind I am going

to be. I will look into the subject over Sunday, and declare my

principles in my next.

I've seen loads of theatres and hotels and beautiful houses. My mind

is a confused jumble of onyx and gilding and mosaic floors and palms.

I'm still pretty breathless but I am glad to get back to college and my

books--I believe that I really am a student; this atmosphere of

academic calm I find more bracing than New York. College is a very

satisfying sort of life; the books and study and regular classes keep

you alive mentally, and then when your mind gets tired, you have the

gymnasium and outdoor athletics, and always plenty of congenial friends

who are thinking about the same things you are. We spend a whole

evening in nothing but talk--talk--talk--and go to bed with a very

uplifted feeling, as though we had settled permanently some pressing

world problems. And filling in every crevice, there is always such a

lot of nonsense--just silly jokes about the little things that come up

but very satisfying. We do appreciate our own witticisms!

It isn't the great big pleasures that count the most; it's making a

great deal out of the little ones--I've discovered the true secret of

happiness, Daddy, and that is to live in the now. Not to be for ever

regretting the past, or anticipating the future; but to get the most

that you can out of this very instant. It's like farming. You can

have extensive farming and intensive farming; well, I am going to have

intensive living after this. I'm going to enjoy every second, and I'm

going to KNOW I'm enjoying it while I'm enjoying it. Most people don't

live; they just race. They are trying to reach some goal far away on

the horizon, and in the heat of the going they get so breathless and

panting that they lose all sight of the beautiful, tranquil country

they are passing through; and then the first thing they know, they are

old and worn out, and it doesn't make any difference whether they've

reached the goal or not. I've decided to sit down by the way and pile

up a lot of little happinesses, even if I never become a Great Author.

Did you ever know such a philosopheress as I am developing into?

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