IN THE FIRELIGHT 231 



felt for his hand and emptied our pockets into 

 it nickels and dimes and pennies, and the 

 three car tickets; but as we were turning to 

 grope our way up the dock the voice said, 

 &quot;Here ye 11 need two of them tickets to 

 git home with. I do want um.&quot; 



Now already it must be evident to any one 

 that my remark to Jonathan, though perhaps 

 ill-timed, embodied a profound and cheering 

 truth. The more uncomfortable you are, the 

 more desperate your situation, the better 

 the reminiscences you are storing up to be 

 enjoyed before the fire. 



Yes, there is nothing like firelight for remin 

 iscences. By the clear light of morning 

 say ten o clock -- I might be forced to admit 

 that life has had its humdrum and unpleasant 

 aspects, but in the evening, with the candles 

 lighted and the fire glowing and flickering, I 

 will allow no such thing. The firelight some 

 how lights up all the lovely bits, and about 

 the unlovely ones it throws a thick mantle of 

 shadow, like the shadows in the corners of 

 the room behind us. Nor does the firelight 

 magic end here. Not only does it play about 

 the fair hours of our past, making them fairer, 



