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Various

"The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 11, No. 64, February, 1863"


I should not grow rich by my work; I could not grow much poorer
by being idle. The past year, which I had spent in the service of
Monsieur and Madame C----, had been one of constant annoyance and
irritating variety of employment. I had grown fretful in the constant
hurry and drive, and the baneful atmosphere of Madame's peevishness.
Body and soul cried out for a season of release, which never in all my
life of service had I thought of before.
I had my desire now. I had put away my bondage. I had ceased my
unprofitable labor. The rest I had so long craved was at hand. I might
take a jubilee, a siesta, if I pleased, of half a year, and nobody be
the wiser. I was responsible to nobody. Nobody had any demands upon
my time or exertion. Free! I stood in a vacuum; no rush of air, no
tempest or whirlpool stirred its infinite profundity. At length I
was at peace,--a peace which seemed likely to last as long as my slim
purse held out; for employment was not easy to obtain. Did I enjoy it?
Did I lap myself in the long-desired repose in thankful quiescence
of spirit? Perhaps,--I cannot tell; restlessness had become a chronic
disease with me. I felt like a ship drifted from its moorings: the
winds and the tides were pleasant; the ocean was at lull; but the ship
rocked aimless and unsteady upon the waters.


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