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A Happy Man

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I have seen at last a happy man, thfl happiest I ever knew. He is perhaps 4( years old, and his happiness has been unbroken for two years or more. Hear his story. He is a gentleman ir every sense of the word. He has means social position and a large circle of devoted relatives and friends. He has a fine physique, a handsome face. Btrt we did not cali him a happy man, "Btich a happy man," until two years ago, when the great change carne. He never married, and the Miss X. of whom I teil you was no more to him than his lifelong comrade, his best of friends- an olc neighbor, related to him in many ways, but never by the tender tie. Perhaps he had been more of an invalid than he knew or than his friends dreamed. One summer day he went to the little lake not far from his nativa village, a popular inland resort, and spent what he called upon his return that night "a perfect day." Skies were never bluer, he said, nor flowers fairer nor the lake so lovely to him as upon that day. Only he had expected to meet Miss X. there and to have had their usual sail together. He would go again on the morrow, take her with him and so doublé and increase the joy. He went to her house that evening to play whist as usual. It was Saturday. She had gone to spend Sunday at the lake. He was very glad she had gone, he said; he would join her the next daj'. During the game he alluded many time to the happy day he had passed. And what is there in life af ter all like a tomorrow full of prornise? That night after reaching his room he had a paraly tic stroke - not a aevere one, only a slight shock, but it clouded his brain, if we can cali that a cloud which fixed forever in his mind the happiness reigning there when it came. Every day since then has been that happy Saturday to him. He has jiistreturned from the lake. No matter if the snow is drif ting or the rain is beating the Windows, it has been a perfect day, everything in divine harmony. He will go over to X.'s for a game of whist. Even if Miss X. meets him he asks if she is at home, as if he were addressing some one else; then he is so glad she is up at the lake; he is going back tomorrow; there is every sign of perfect weather, etc. , ali in his old time charming way. Then he takes up his cards and playa a capital game and goes home in the sweet expectation of a happy tomorrow. All else in life seems a blank to him. In that one fair niche of memory he sees all of the past, the present and the future. He appears to be reading oftentimes when the book he holds is up side down. Death means nothing to him. When his friends die, he does not weep nor qnestion nor miss them. He has had such a happy day, and he is going to repeat it tomorrow. Naturally his case is of interest to specialists. He is never troublesome. He goes about the village and exchanges cordial greetings. Nor does he always speak of what is in possession of his mind, unless you hold him too long. Then he has excuse for breaking away. Question - If that last day of his mental balance had been an unhappy one, say a day black with anguish or remorse or embittered with rage and revenge, would he now be the opposite of what he is - a wild beast in toils - the remainder of his life the horrible evolution of an incidental, who knows but an accident, mood?-


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