Are not my fields pleasant to behold? They are bringing in my wheat, which
stretches, you perceive, throughout the low-grounds there, in neatly
arranged shocks. My crops this year are excellent--my servants enjoy this
season, and its occupations. They will soon sing their echoing "harvest
home"--and over them at their joyous labor will shine the "harvest-moon,"
lighting up field and forest, hill and dale--the whole "broad domain and
the hall." The affection of my servants is grateful to me. Here comes
Cato, with his team of patient oxen, and there goes Caesar, leading my
favorite racehorse down to water. Cato, Caesar, and I, respectively salute
each other in the kindest way. I think they are attached to me. Faithful
fellows! I shall never part with them. I think I will give this coat to
Caesar; but, looking again, I perceive that his own is better. Besides, I
must not be extravagant. The little money I make is required by another,
and it would not be generous to buy a new coat for myself. This one which
I wear will do well enough, will it not? I ask you with some diffidence,
for 'tis sadly out at elbows, and the idea has occurred to me that the
coolness and neglect of certain visitors to the hall, has been caused by
my coat being shabby.
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