60 FLORIDA DAYS.

 happiest person, was the moment when con-
 sciousness began to melt into sleep.
 A woman, sitting in the sun with half-shut
 eyes, her pipe gone out perhaps, her head
 resting against the door-post, is quite satisfied
 and happy. She would be the first to say that
 these days of peace and sleep were better than
 the old desire and the quicker
 thought. It has seemed to be
 either one extreme or the other
 with them, the goad of pain,
 and activity; or the down of
 comfort, and dreams.
 The boy in the jolting car,
 even though he sings, is half
asleep. He apostrophizes his mule, or the
oranges which tumble about his feet, with
violence of words, but with a face. full of lazy
good-nature; indeed, he and his beast have
the same placid way of taking life. The mule
does not mark his abusive entreaties to proceed,
any more than the boy notices or objects when
his gray friend comes to a halt, and, turning
slowly in the broken, rope-mended harness,