My fire burns cheerfully; the room is filled
with my old friend's sober voice; and I am left to muse upon the
story we have just now finished.
It makes me smile, at such a time as this, to think if there were
any one to see me sitting in my easy-chair, my gray head hanging
down, my eyes bent thoughtfully upon the glowing embers, and my
crutch - emblem of my helplessness - lying upon the hearth at my
feet, how solitary I should seem. Yet though I am the sole tenant
of this chimney-corner, though I am childless and old, I have no
sense of loneliness at this hour; but am the centre of a silent
group whose company I love.
Thus, even age and weakness have their consolations. If I were a
younger man, if I were more active, more strongly bound and tied to
life, these visionary friends would shun me, or I should desire to
fly from them. Being what I am, I can court their society, and
delight in it; and pass whole hours in picturing to myself the
shadows that perchance flock every night into this chamber, and in
imagining with pleasure what kind of interest they have in the
frail, feeble mortal who is its sole inhabitant.
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