The Project Gutenberg EBook of My Terminal Moraine, by Frank E. Stockton
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Title: My Terminal Moraine
1892
Author: Frank E. Stockton
Release Date: October 24, 2007 [EBook #23175]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MY TERMINAL MORAINE ***
Produced by David Widger
MY TERMINAL MORAINE
By Frank E. Stockton
Copyright, 1892, by P. F. Collier
A man's birth is generally considered the most important event of his
existence, but I truly think that what I am about to relate was more
important to me than my entrance into this world; because, had not these
things happened, I am of the opinion that my life would have been of no
value to me and my birth a misfortune.
My father, Joshua Cuthbert, died soon after I came to my majority,
leaving me what he had considered a comfortable property. This consisted
of a large house and some forty acres of land, nearly the whole of which
lay upon a bluff, which upon three sides descended to a little valley,
through which ran a gentle stream. I had no brothers or sisters. My
mother died when I was a boy, and I, Walter Cuthbert, was left the sole
representative of my immediate family.
My estate had been a comfortable one to my father, because his income
from the practice of his profession as a physician enabled him to keep
it up and provide satisfactorily for himself and me. I had no profession
and but a very small income, the result of a few investments my father
had made. Left to myself, I felt no inducement to take up any profession
or business. My wants were simple, and for a few years I lived without
experiencing any inconvenience from the economies which I was obliged
to practice. My books, my dog, my gun and my rod made life pass very
pleasantly to me, and the subject of an increase of income never
disturbed my mind.
But as time passed on the paternal home began to present an air of
neglect and even dilapidation, which occasionally attracted my attention
and caused, as I incidentally discovered, a great deal of unfavorable
comment among my neighbors, who thought that I should go to work and
at least earn money enough to put the house
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