Browning chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1941-1953, 1945-07-13

have come to luok upon com.
plete happiness as unattainable.
Happiness, as I understand it, is a
sense of present well-being, on which
is hung, like a Christmas wreath, the
belief that some fine bit of good for
tune lies just ahead.
I have come to have less and less
respect for the power in people that
makes money. 1t seems to me this
is wholly selfish trait, and the least
admirable of all the major drives in
human beings. I realize this takes
in a great deal of territory, for I
know that a certain amount of mon
ey is necessary, but it seems to me
that life dedicated to money-mak-
ing is about as empty a shell as one
could crawl into.
have learned to live today and
not wait till tomorrow. During my
early life, I kept thinking to myself,
well, Pm not getting much out of
today, but soon I'll be in another
city, or have more money, or will
be selling more manuscripts, or will
have a new group of friends, then
I'll really get some fun out of life."
Written June 18th, 1913.
Sometimes we have to look back
on a day to know it has been one of
satisfaction. But sometimes we
know the day is satisfying one at
the very time it is racing by. And
today is one of them, for today the
third generation of Croys set foot on
this land. Carol had arrived from
the University of Arizona, at Tucson,
where she had been in school, and
then-on this day-my dream came
true. We walked across the farm
together-just she and land
showed her the scenes I knew so
well. We came to a great gully.
This is where your grandfather and
MIR. Shannon and I dug a five-inch
ditch with thing spades. And it must
be right along here" I said as we
walked on, that old Dave was bur-
led"
We stopped in the calf lot. 'It
must have been about here that
taught calf to drink out of bucket
and wrote piece about it."
We went to the "old" house behind
the new" house. "This is the house
where was born, and now I'll show
you the very room" Thank God
there were no chickens in it. "And
here is the very hole in the floor
where the scrubbing water ran
away to mystify me so. And here's
the shelf where Hostetter's Almanac
used to hang"
1t was strange world to her. But
she had heard me talk of all this a
thousand times, and now she seemed
to understand what it meant to me;
and what it meant to have her on
the soil where her grandmother
picked up buffalo chips.
Then into the new" house where
l showed her the room where had
pecked off my first stories and the
wall where the panel had hung, and
where we had packed the telescope
with the mouse hole. Then into
'Renzos room. Thank goodness
there is no seed corn in it today.
At last the morning was over and
dinner was over, and we went out
and sat on the porch where my
mother had said, That's where your
father and l came driving across the
prairieS on our honeymoon"
Carol looked across the cornlands
incredulously. WAS this ever the
prairies?"
''I'll say it was," answered in
her own vernacular.
We went to the barn which l had
built word by word Behind the
manager was horse, and on a peg
behind the horse was a saddle. Her
eyes were Immediately upon them
and her eyes danced And so did
her voice. "Oh, Daddy, can l go
horseback riding?"
1t just about foored re.
THE END