two or three extra hours on the job, and feels

_Item Three._ That he is doing something worth while;

_Item Four._ Upon the first of the month he has nothing;

_Item Five._ Balancing his books at the last of the month he has
nothing,

_Item Six._ And having no debt he is happy. But speaking of debt,
there is

_Item Seven._ In Mr. Fenn's room a collection of receipts:

(a) One from the Midland Railroad Company for brass as per statement
rendered.

(b) One from the Harvey Transfer Co. for one box of cutlery marked
Wright & Perry, and

(c) One--the hardest receipt of all to get--from Martha Morton for six
chickens as per account rendered. These receipts hang on a spindle in
the little room. Under the spindle is

_Item Eight._ A bottle of whisky--full but uncorked. He is in his
room but little. Sometimes he comes in late at night, and does not light
the lamp to avoid seeing the bottle, but plunges into bed, and covers up
his head in fear and trembling. On the day when the Peach Blow
Philosopher printed his view on Heaven, Mr. Fenn, by way of personal
adornment, had purchased of Wright & Perry

_Item Nine._ One new coat. He hoped and so indicated to the firm,
to be able to afford a vest in the spring and perhaps trousers by
summer, and because of the cutlery transaction above mentioned, the firm
indicated

_Item Ten._ That Mr. Fenn's credit was good for the whole suit. But
Mr. Fenn waved a proud hand and said he had

_Item Eleven._ No desire to become involved in the devious ways of
high finance, and took only the coat.

But, nevertheless, no small part of his Heaven lies in the serene
knowledge that the whole suit is waiting for him, carefully put aside by
the head of the house until Mr. Fenn cares to call for it. That is
perhaps a material Heaven but it is a part of Mr. Fenn's Heaven, and as
he goes about from door to door soliciting for sewing, the knowledge
that if he should cease or falter four women might be on the street the
next night, keeps him happy, and not even when he was county attorney or
in the real estate business nor writing insurance, nor disporting
himself as an auctioneer was Mr. Fenn ever in his own mind a person of
so much use and consequence. So his Heaven needs no east wind to belly
it out. Mr. Fenn's Heaven is full and fat and prosperous--even on two
meals a day and in a three-dollar-a-month room.

And now that we may balance up the Heaven account in these books, we
should come