There were other little articles of virtu and bric-a-brac till you
couldn't rest, but these were all that I could see thoroughly before he
returned from the wash-room.
I do not like the blase young man as a traveling companion. He is nix
bonuin. He is too E pluribus for me. He is not de trop or sciatica
enough to suit my style.
[Illustration: 0376]
If he belonged to me I would picket him out somewhere in a hostile
Indian country, and then try to nerve myself up for the result.
It is better to go through life reading the signs on the ten-story
buildings and acquiring knowledge, than to dawdle and "Ah!" adown our
pathway to the tomb and leave no record for posterity except that we
had a good neck to pin a necktie upon. It is not pleasant to be
called green, but I would rather be green and aspiring than blase and
hide-bound at nineteen.
Let us so live that when at last we pass away our friends will not be
immediately and uproariously reconciled to our death.