"
"But what will your wife do?"
"She can have the money I've saved, all except
enough to buy me a few provisions. I sha'n't need
much. I want a little corn meal, and I will have a
few chickens, and there is a barrel of winter apples
left over that she can't use, and a few potatoes.
There is a spring right near the shack, and there are
trout-pools, and by and by there will be berries,
and there's plenty of fire-wood, and there's an old
bed and a stove and a few things in the shack.
Now, I'm going to the store and buy what I want,
and I'm going to fix it so Myrtle can draw the money
when she wants it, and then I am going to the
shack, and" -- Christopher's voice took on a solemn
tone -- "I will tell you in just a few words the gist
of what I am going for. I have never in my life
had enough of the bread of life to keep my soul
nourished. I have tried to do my duties, but I believe
sometimes duties act on the soul like weeds on a
flower. They crowd it out. I am going up on Silver
Mountain to get once, on this earth, my fill of the
bread of life."
Stephen Wheaton gasped. "But your wife, she
will be alone, she will worry."
"I want you to go and tell her," said Christopher,
"and I've got my bank-book here; I'm going to
write some checks that she can get cashed when she
needs money.
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