_by Dorothy Dix._
_Illustration by Wm. J. Steinigans._
There was once a Sagacious Youth, with a High Brow, who Opined that
the World owed him a Living.
“It is all very well,” he reflected, “for Ordinary Dubs who have
not been blessed with a Superabundance of Gray Matter as I have, to
Strain on the Collar in the Tread Mill of Business, but the very
thought of Work makes me Tired, and I apprehend that there are
Easier ways of getting the Pelf than by Earning it.
“It is, of course, a Good Thing that not every one is as Brilliant
as I am, for if they were the world would blow up with Spontaneous
Combustion. It really pains me to see others toiling along day
after day for Measly Salaries, when they might have money coming to
them on Wings if they only used their Wits instead of their Paws.”
With that the Sagacious Youth worked out a system that was a Sure
Thing on paper for Divorcing the Public from its Long Green.
[Illustration: “_There was once a Sagacious Youth with a High
Brow._”]
“I learned from the Census Report,” he said to himself, “that
every Minute a Sucker is Born, and I apprehend that they are
Providentially provided to furnish Automobiles and Wealth Water for
Wise Guys like Me, and that all that I shall have to do is to take
advantage of their Gullibility in order to Hook Them and have a
Fish Chowder that will be a Perpetual Picnic.
“I have perceived that most of my Fellow Creatures are so Greedy
that they will swallow any sort of Bait if it looks Fat, and that
if you only Promise them enough, it Razzle-dazzles them so they do
not investigate your means of Making Good.”
Thereupon the Youth began burning the midnight Carbon concocting a
Prospectus of Speculation made Easy, by which Widows and Orphans
and Clergymen could be separated from their Pile and enjoy all the
Excitement and Losses of Wall Street at Home.
As an idea it was a Jim Dandy that commanded the respect of
the Financial World, but before the Youth could realize it the
Post-Office Department got Wise, and he felt it best to Travel in
Europe for his Health.
“Alas!” cried the Youth, “I fear that the Confidence Game is
getting Over-Crowded, and it is evidently up to me to either Marry
and give some Female the Pleasure of Supporting me, or else go to
Work.
“Personally, my tastes are not Domestic, and I prefer Single
Blessedness to Double Wretchedness, but it is clear that it will be
less Fatiguing to hold a Lady’s Hand than to call Stations in the
Subway; it’s me for the Altar. Besides, as soon as I have annexed
little Tootsey-Wootsey for my own, I will take possession of her
Bank Account and then all will be well.”
So the Youth espoused an Elderly Widow whose No. 1 husband had
left her a Large and Juicy slice of Insurance, but contrary to
his expectations she was a Foxy Lady with a Time Lock on her
Pocketbook, and he could not work the Combination that opened it.
At this the Youth shed bitter Tears, but when he began knocking
Fate his Friend called him down.
“It may be True,” said the Friend, “that the World owes you a
living, but there are many Small Debts that we have to Personally
Collect.
“If you had displayed as much Imagination in writing Fiction as
you have in Telling Lies that deceive no one, you would have
received an Honorary Degree from Yale instead of the Double Cross
from your Fellow Creatures, and if you had worked as hard at some
Honest Calling as you have in trying to Rob Others you would be
a Millionaire instead of a Tramp. It is my observation that the
Beater always gets Beaten in the end. Farewell!”
* * * * *
Moral: This Fable teaches that Most of the Short Cuts to Success
end on the Dump.