BEING THE LAST CHAPTER OF ALL. I never could succeed in convincing my brother-in-law of the truth of my relation--or rather--for I have always thought his incredulity was assumed for the purpose mentioned--I never could overcome his opposition to the design I formed of writing and committing it to the press. For this reason I ceased talking of it more, and even affected to believe the foolish story he had told me of my having conceived my adventures in a mere fit of delirium. This I did not so much out of compliment to him, as from a desire to have him believe I would let nothing divert me from the business of my farm, which, indeed, I immediately addressed myself to in such good earnest as secured his hearty approval and zealous congratulations. In secret, however, and in the intervals of toil, I employed myself recording my adventures, while their impression was still strong on my memory; and now, having happily brought them to a conclusion, I commit them to the world, confident that, if they surprise nobody else, they will cause some astonishment to my brother Alderwood. It is now some time since I have been deprived of his and my sister's company at Watermelon Hill, they having retired to their own farm as soon as my brother was well convinced I was capable of managing my own affairs. My only society now consists of honest Jim Jumble, his wife Dinah, and my sister's oldest son, Sheppard Lee Alderwood (for he was named after me), a lad of fourteen years, but uncommonly shrewd and sensible, for whom I have contracted a strong affection, and to whom, if I should die unmarried, as is quite probable, I design bequeathing my little patrimony. Jim Jumble is as independent and saucy as ever, but I can bear with his humours, he is so faithful, industrious, and, as I may add, so happy to see his master once more prospering in the world. He and Dinah are singing all day long. My estate is small, and it may be that it will never increase. I am, however, content with it; and content is the secret of all enjoyment. I am not ashamed to labour in my fields. On the contrary, I have learned to be grateful to Providence that it ordained me to a lot of toil, wherein I find the truest source of health, self-approbation, and happiness. My only trouble is an occasional stiffness and sluggishness of joints and muscles, which Jim Jumble tells me is "all owing to my being naturally a lazy man," but which I myself suppose was caused by my remaining so long a mummy. To counterbalance this evil, however, I find in myself an astonishing hardiness of constitution, particularly in resisting quinsies, catarrhs, and defluxions on the breast, to which I was formerly very liable; and this immunity I know not how to account for, unless by supposing that my body was hardened by the process of mummifying, and that it still continues to be water-proof.