“You are right, daddy! You say truly. To think of the soul is the great thing. The soul’s the chief thing.⁠ ⁠…” He paused. “Thank you, daddy, it is quite true”; and he pointed to his pipe. “What is it?⁠ ⁠… Good-for-nothing rubbish! The soul’s the chief thing!” repeated he. “What you say is true,” and his face grew still kindlier and more serious.

I wished to continue the conversation, but a lump rose in my throat (I have grown very weak in the matter of tears), and I could not speak. With a joyful, tender feeling I took leave of him, swallowing my tears, and I went away.

Yes, how can one help being joyful, living amid such people? How can one help expecting from such people all that is most excellent?