“It’s all very swate; it’s all very swate.”
Since a boy, I have been able to take an interest in the crack in a granite stone and wonder “why”; in the lichen that grows upon it, and “why”; in the blackberry bushes around it, and “why”; in the earth underneath through its change into sand; in the weather and in the life of all the little things. After death, to furnish the manure for all these is enough of a future life for me.
Meanwhile, there is still beauty in the curve of a wave or a woman’s breast, there is liberty and there are friends. But best of all there is hope. I am still an optimist.
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES
- P. [18], changed “pretending not so see me” to “pretending not to see me”.
- Silently corrected typographical errors and variations in spelling.
- Archaic, non-standard, and uncertain spellings retained as printed.