He at first said he would never eat again in that house; and added that
he had enough firmness of character, he trusted, to enable him to starve
like a man when the alternative was to eat insult with his bread.
When he had finished his breakfast, Barrow took him to his room,
furnished him a pipe, and said cheerily:
"Now, old fellow, take in your battle-flag out of the wet, you're not in
the hostile camp any more. You're a little upset by your troubles,
and that's natural enough, but don't let your mind run on them anymore
than you can help; drag your thoughts away from your troubles by the
ears, by the heels, or any other way, so you manage it; it's the
healthiest thing a body can do; dwelling on troubles is deadly, just
deadly--and that's the softest name there is for it. You must keep your
mind amused--you must, indeed."
"Oh, miserable me!"
"Don't! There's just pure heart-break in that tone. It's just as I say;
you've got to get right down to it and amuse your mind, as if it was
salvation."
"They're easy words to say, Barrow, but how am I going to amuse,
entertain, divert a mind that finds itself suddenly assaulted and
overwhelmed by disasters of a sort not dreamed of and not provided for?
No--no, the bare idea of amusement is repulsive to my feelings: Let us
talk of death and funerals.
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