He could never, NEVER forget himself, as
he had seen other young fellows do; but to remember himself
agreeably was certainly the next best thing.
Jacob was already a well-grown man of twenty-three, and would have
made a good enough appearance but for the stoop in his shoulders,
and the drooping, uneasy way in which he carried his head. Many a
time when he was alone in the fields or woods he had
straightened himself, and looked courageously at the buts of the
oak-trees or in the very eyes of the indifferent oxen; but, when a
human face drew near, some spring in his neck seemed to snap, some
buckle around his shoulders to be drawn three holes tighter, and he
found himself in the old posture. The ever-present thought of this
weakness was the only drop of bitterness in his cup, as he followed
the lonely path through the thickets.
Some spirit in the sweet, delicious freshness of the air, some
voice in the mellow babble of the stream, leaping in and out of
sight between the alders, some smile of light, lingering on the
rising corn-fields beyond the meadow and the melting purple of a
distant hill, reached to the seclusion of his heart.
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