Chapter Two 快乐的人生不自负（27）
《世界上最富哲理的美文》作者：吴文智 2017-04-14 12:58
Chapter Two 快乐的人生不自负（27）
“How much a year, sir?” said the merry cobbler laughing, “I never reckon in that way, living as I do from one day to another; somehow I manage to reach the end of the year; each day brings its meal.”
“Well then! How much a day do you earn, my friend?”
“Sometimes more, sometimes less; but the worst of it is, and, without that our earnings would be very tolerable, a number of days occur in the year on which we are forbidden to work; and the curate, moreover, is constantly adding some new saint to the list.”
The banker, laughing at his simplicity, said, “In the future I shall place you above want. Take this hundred crowns, preserve them carefully, and make use of them in time of need.”
The cobbler fancied he beheld all the wealth which the earth had produced in the past century for the use of mankind. Returning home, he buried his money and his happiness at the same time. No more singing; he lost his voice, the moment he acquired that which is the source of so much grief. Sleep quitted his dwelling; and cares, suspicions, and false alarms took its place. All da
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“How much a year, sir?” said the merry cobbler laughing, “I never reckon in that way, living as I do from one day to another; somehow I manage to reach the end of the year; each day brings its meal.”
“Well then! How much a day do you earn, my friend?”
“Sometimes more, sometimes less; but the worst of it is, and, without that our earnings would be very tolerable, a number of days occur in the year on which we are forbidden to work; and the curate, moreover, is constantly adding some new saint to the list.”
The banker, laughing at his simplicity, said, “In the future I shall place you above want. Take this hundred crowns, preserve them carefully, and make use of them in time of need.”
The cobbler fancied he beheld all the wealth which the earth had produced in the past century for the use of mankind. Returning home, he buried his money and his happiness at the same time. No more singing; he lost his voice, the moment he acquired that which is the source of so much grief. Sleep quitted his dwelling; and cares, suspicions, and false alarms took its place. All da