90 NOTES FROM THE PRAIRIE 



I cannot walk, I can think and read and write; 

 probably I get my share of pleasure from 

 sources that well people are apt to neglect. I 

 have learned that the way to be happy is to 

 keep so busy that thoughts of self are forced 

 out of sight ; and to live for others, not for our- 

 selves. 



" Sometimes, when I think over the matter, 

 I am half sorry for well people, because, you 

 see, I have so much better company than they 

 can have, for I have so much more time to go 

 all over the world and meet all the best and 

 wisest peojDle in it. Some of them died long 

 ago to the most of people, but to me they are 

 just as much alive as they ever were; they give 

 me their best and wisest thoughts without the 

 disagreeable accompaniments others must en- 

 dure. Other people use their eyes and ears 

 and pens for me; all I have to do is to sit still 

 and enjoy the results. Dear friends I have 

 everywhere, though I am unknown to them; 

 what right have I to wish for more privileges 

 than I have ? " 



There is philosophy for you — philosophy 

 which looks fate out of countenance. It seems 

 that if we only have the fortitude to take the 

 ills of life cheerfully and say to fortune, "Thy 

 worst is good enough for me," behold the worst 

 is already repentant and fast changing to the 

 best. Love softens the heart of the inevitable. 

 The magic phrase which turns the evil spirits 

 into good angels is, "I am contented." Hap- 

 I)iness is always at one's elbow, it seems, in 



