-his father and mother, with Jim and Roscoe as boys--and the
other a "cabinet" of Edith at sixteen. And upon a table were the books
he had taken from his trunk: Sartor Resartus, Virginibus Puerisque,
Huckleberry Finn, and Afterwhiles. There were some other books in the
trunk--a large one, which remained unremoved at the foot of the bed,
adding to the general impression of transiency. It contained nearly all
the possessions as well as the secret life of Bibbs Sheridan, and Bibbs
sat beside it, the day after his interview with his father, raking over
a small collection of manuscripts in the top tray. Some of these he
glanced through dubiously, finding little comfort in them; but one made
him smile. Then he shook his head ruefully indeed, and ruefully began to
read it. It was written on paper stamped "Hood Sanitarium," and bore the
title, "Leisure."

A man may keep a quiet heart at seventy miles an hour, but not if
he is running the train. Nor is the habit of contemplation a useful
quality in the stoker of a foundry furnace; it will not be found to
recommend him to the approbation of his superiors. For a profession
adapted solely to the pursuit of happiness in thinking, I would
choose that of an invalid: his money is time and he may spend it on
Olympus. It will not suffice to be an amateur invalid. To my way
of thinking, the perfect practitioner must be to all outward
purposes already dead if he is to begin the perfect enjoyment of
life. His serenity must not be disturbed by rumors of recovery; he
must lie serene in his long chair in the sunshine. The world must
be on the other side of the wall, and the wall must be so thick and
so high that he cannot hear the roaring of the furnace fires and the
screaming of the whistles. Peace--

Having read so far as the word "peace," Bibbs suffered an interruption
interesting as a coincidence of contrast. High voices sounded in the
hall just outside his door; and it became evident that a woman's quarrel
was in progress, the parties to it having begun it in Edith's room, and
continuing it vehemently as they came out into the hall.

"Yes, you BETTER go home!" Bibbs heard his sister vociferating, shrilly.
"You better go home and keep your mind a little more on your HUSBAND!"

"Edie, Edie!" he heard his mother remonstrating, as peacemaker.

"You see here!" This was Sibyl, and her voice was both acrid and
tremulous. "Don't you talk to me that way! I c