A full grown man once had a position in the Civil Service. He did the
work of an average office boy in the business world, but drew the
salary of a man. The full grown man was not ashamed of this. In fact,
on the Q.T. he was of the opinion that he was a very clever fellow,
and that the work he did was very important. The full grown man’s wife
was a very different kind of person. She was of the opinion that hubby
was a pure mutton, and that he was lucky to be in the Service; but she
kept her opinion dark, and among her friends, whom she referred to as
“Society,” she groaned over the fact that hubby was “so unlucky”; that
it was a shame the way he was paid; that he was so clever, don’t you
know,--and other things, which she thought people believed.
One evening when the full grown man and wife were out at an affair,
wifie began performing her conversational ledger-de-main on a stranger
who appeared to listen to her with great patience. The stranger was a
man who had been twenty years in business, and had lately accepted a
Civil Service position--with thanks.
The stranger knew the full grown man. He made him tired. So when wifie
said that the Civil Service was only a bread and butter mill, he said
in reply: “Madam, it seems to me very unlikely that a man who can make
jam for his bread outside the service would content himself with bread
and butter for twenty years.”
And wifie fell dead, and the next month the full grown man was
superannuated on “nothing” per year, and a school girl put in his place.
* * * * *
_Moral_--Never crowd your luck.
[Illustration]
It costs money to appear to be somebody in particular.
* * * * *
’Tis folly to be superfluously honest, but do your stealing with
discretion.
* * * * *
Any fool can separate himself from money, but no fool can connect
himself with ten thousand a year without a concatenation of fortuitous
circumstances.