University of Virginia Library

4. CHAPTER IV.
Being the last chapter of all.

I never could succeed in convincing my brother-in-law
of the truth of my relation—or rather—
for I have always thought his incredulity was assumed
for the purpose mentioned—I never could
overcome his opposition to the design I formed of
writing and committing it to the press. For this
reason I ceased talking of it more, and even affected
to believe the foolish story he had told me
of my having conceived my adventures in a mere
fit of delirium. This I did not so much out of
compliment to him, as from a desire to have him
believe I would let nothing divert me from the

business of my farm, which, indeed, I immediately
addressed myself to in such good earnest as secured
his hearty approval and zealous congratulations.

In secret, however, and in the intervals of toil, I
employed myself recording my adventures, while
their impression was still strong on my memory;
and now, having happily brought them to a conclusion,
I commit them to the world, confident that,
if they surprise nobody else, they will cause some
astonishment to my brother Alderwood.

It is now some time since I have been deprived
of his and my sister's company at Watermelon
Hill, they having retired to their own farm as soon
as my brother was well convinced I was capable
of managing my own affairs. My only society
now consists of honest Jim Jumble, his wife
Dinah, and my sister's oldest son, Sheppard Lee
Alderwood (for he was named after me), a lad of
fourteen years, but uncommonly shrewd and sensible,
for whom I have contracted a strong affection,
and to whom, if I should die unmarried, as is quite
probable, I design bequeathing my little patrimony.

Jim Jumble is as independent and saucy as ever,
but I can bear with his humours, he is so faithful,
industrious, and, as I may add, so happy to see
his master once more prospering in the world.
He and Dinah are singing all day long.

My estate is small, and it may be that it will
never increase. I am, however, content with it;
and content is the secret of all enjoyment. I am
not ashamed to labour in my fields. On the contrary,

I have learned to be grateful to Providence
that it ordained me to a lot of toil, wherein I find
the truest source of health, self-approbation, and
happiness. My only trouble is an occasional stiffness
and sluggishness of joints and muscles, which
Jim Jumble tells me is “all owing to my being
naturally a lazy man,” but which I myself suppose
was caused by my remaining so long a mummy.

To counterbalance this evil, however, I find in
myself an astonishing hardiness of constitution,
particularly in resisting quinsies, catarrhs, and defluxions
on the breast, to which I was formerly
very liable; and this immunity I know not how to
account for, unless by supposing that my body was
hardened by the process of mummifying, and that
it still continues to be water-proof.

At all events—be my body what it may, hardy
or frail, stiff or supple, I am satisfied with it, and
shall never again seek to exchange it for another.