Chapter 88 Indoor Heating - 6

Moles live in my cellar, and they have to gnaw off one-third of the potatoes each time. They use the animal hair and a few pieces of kraft paper left over from my mud wall to make their nests, because they are the wildest Animals also love comfort and warmth just like humans, and only because they are so careful and get a nest can they survive the winter.I have friends who talk as if I had come into the forest to freeze myself.Animals only need to arrange a bed in a shaded place, and it keeps warm with its own body heat; but man, because of the discovery of fire, shuts up the air in a large room and makes it very warm without relying on his own body. body temperature, and then make this warm room into his bed, so that he can run around wearing a lot of cumbersome clothes, maintain a summer temperature in winter, and because there are windows, he can still invite the light. , and with another lamp, the day will be lengthened.Thus he takes a step or two beyond his instincts, saving time for fine art.Although, whenever I was exposed to the strong wind for a long time, my whole body began to be numb, but when I returned to the house full of spring, I immediately recovered my senses and prolonged my life.Even the man who lives in the most luxurious rooms has nothing to boast in this respect, and we need not bother to guess how the human race will end, but a slightly sharper gale from the north can end it at any time. Isn't their life easy?We often use cold Friday and heavy snow to count the days, but a colder Friday or greater snow can bring the existence of human beings on the earth to an end.

The next winter, for economical reasons, I used a small stove, since the forest was not mine, but it did not keep the flame alive like a fireplace, and by then, cooking would probably no longer be a A poetic work, but only a chemical process.In the days of the stove, people soon forgot to bake potatoes like Indians in the ashes.Not only did the stove take up space, and the room smelled of smoke, but there was no fire, and I felt like I had lost a companion.You can often recognize a face in a fire.Laborers, gazing at the fire at night, often put the messy and vulgar thoughts accumulated during the day into the fire to be purified.But I could no longer sit and gaze into the flames, and the pertinent lines of a poet had new power for me.

"Bright flame, never deny me, Thy lovely shadow of life, dear affection, The rising light, is my hope? Is it my destiny to sink into the night? You are welcome and loved by all, Why banish from our firesides and halls? Could it be that your existence is too imaginative, Can't be the general illumination of dull floating life? Your mysterious light is not with us Talk to temperamental souls?Secret? Yes, we are safe and strong, for now We sit by the hearth, and there is no shadow in the hearth. Perhaps there is no joy or sorrow, but only a fire, Warm our hands and feet—and hope for more;

With its solid, useful fire, Those in front of it can sit down and sleep peacefully, Don't be afraid of wandering ghosts appearing in the dark, The flames of the old trees whispered to us gleamingly. "