People like the ` spice-bread , ' and as that is the only sort my oven will bake , I must keep on in order to make my living . '' `` So rumsellers say , but it ai n't a good trade to foller , and I 'd chop wood ` fore I 'd earn my livin ' harmin ' my feller man . ` Pears to me I 'd let my oven cool a spell , and hunt up some homely , happy folks to write about ; folks that do n't borrer trouble and go lookin ' for holes in their neighbors ' coats , but take their lives brave and cheerful ; and rememberin ' we are all human , have pity on the weak , and try to be as full of mercy , patience and lovin ' kindness as Him who made us . That sort of a book would do a heap of good ; be real warmin ' and strengthening and make them that read it love the man that wrote it , and remember him when he was dead and gone . '' `` I wish I could ! '' and Randal meant what he said , for he was as tired of his own style as a watch-maker might be of the magnifying glass through which he strains his eyes all day . He knew that the heart was left out of his work , and that both mind and soul were growing morbid with dwelling on the faulty , absurd and metaphysical phases of life and character . He often threw down his pen and vowed he would write no more ; but he loved ease and the books brought money readily ; he was accustomed to the stimulant of praise and missed it as the toper misses his wine , so that which had once been a pleasure to himself and others was fast becoming a burden and a disappointment . The brief pause which followed his involuntary betrayal of discontent was broken by Ruth , who exclaimed , with a girlish enthusiasm that overpowered girlish bashfulness , -- '' I think all the novels are splendid ! I hope you will write hundreds more , and I shall live to read 'em . '' `` Bravo , my gentle champion ! I promise that I will write one more at least , and have a heroine in it whom your mother will both admire and love , '' answered Randal , surprised to find how grateful he was for the girl 's approval , and how rapidly his trained fancy began to paint the background on which he hoped to copy this fresh , human daisy . Abashed by her involuntary outburst , Ruth tried to efface herself behind Saul 's broad shoulder , and he brought the conversation back to its starting-point by saying in a tone of the most sincere interest , -- `` Speaking of the serial , I am very anxious to know how your hero comes out . He is a fine fellow , and I ca n't decide whether he is going to spoil his life marrying that silly woman , or do something grand and generous , and not be made a fool of . '' `` Upon my soul , I do n't know myself . It is very hard to find new finales . Ca n't you suggest something , Major ? then I shall not be obliged to leave my story without an end , as people complain I am rather fond of doing . '' `` Well , no , I do n't think I 've anything to offer . Seems to me it is n't the sensational exploits that show the hero best , but some great sacrifice quietly made by a common sort of man who is noble without knowing it .
I saw a good many such during the war , and often wish I could write them down , for it is surprising how much courage , goodness and real piety is stowed away in common folks ready to XXXXX when the right time comes . ''
Seems ai knowing let remember say show suggest think wrote