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Irving, Washington, 1783-1859

"The Sketch-Book of Geoffrey Crayon"

His cat was purring soberly on the
threshold, and his parrot describing some strange evolutions in
an iron ring that swung in the centre of his cage. He had been
angling all day, and gave me a history of his sport with as much
minuteness as a general would talk over a campaign, being
particularly animated in relating the manner in which he had
taken a large trout, which had completely tasked all his skill
and wariness, and which he had sent as a trophy to mine hostess
of the inn.
How comforting it is to see a cheerful and contented old age, and
to behold a poor fellow like this, after being tempest-tost
through life, safely moored in a snug and quiet harbor in the
evening of his days! His happiness, however, sprung from within
himself and was independent of external circumstances, for he had
that inexhaustible good-nature which is the most precious gift of
Heaven, spreading itself like oil over the troubled sea of
thought, and keeping the mind smooth and equable in the roughest
weather.
On inquiring further about him, I learnt that he was a universal
favorite in the village and the oracle of the tap-room, where he
delighted the rustics with his songs, and, like Sindbad,
astonished them with his stories of strange lands and shipwrecks
and sea-fights.


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