idday comes the denser
shade of tree or porch is sought, and coats come off. At noon dinner is
welcome, and proves that the high cost of living is largely a
conventional requirement. It may be beans or a bit of roast ham brought
from home, with potatoes or tomatoes, good bread and butter, and a
dessert of toasted crackers with loganberries and cream. To experience
the comfort of not eating too much and to find how little can be
satisfying is a great lesson in the art of living. To supplement, and
dispose of, this homily on food, our supper was always baked potatoes
and cream toast,--but such potatoes and real cream toast! Of course,
fruit was always "on tap," and the good coffee reappeared.

In the cool of the afternoon a longer walk. Good trails lead over the
whole place, and sometimes we would go afield and call on some neighbor.
Almost invariably they were Italians, who were thriving where
improvident Americans had given up in despair. Always my friend found
friendly welcome. This one he had helped out of a trouble with a
refractory pump, that one he had befriended in some other way. All were
glad to see him, and wished him well. What a poor investment it is to
quarrel with a neighbor!

Sometimes my friend would busy himself by leading water to some
neglected and thirsty plant, while I was re-reading "Tom Grogan" or
Brander Matthews' plays, but for much of the time we talked and
exchanged views on current topics or old friends. When the evening came
we prudently went inside and continued our reading or our talk till we
felt inclined to seek our comfortable beds and the oblivion that blots
out troubles or pleasures.

And so on for five momentous days. Quite unlike the "Seven Days" in the
delightful farce-comedy of that name, in which everything happened, here
nothing seemed to happen. We were miles from a post-office, and
newspapers disturbed us not. The world of human activity was as though
it were not. Politics as we left it was a disturbing memory, but no
fresh outbreaks aggravated our discomfort. We were at rest and we
rested. A good recipe for long life, I think, would be: withdraw from
life's turmoil regularly--five days in a month.

AN ANNIVERSARY

The Humboldt County business established and conducted on honor by Alex.
Brizard was continued on like lines by his three sons with conspicuous
success. As the fiftieth anniversary approached they arranged to fitly
celebrate the event. They invited many of th