They were still
talking, the doctor following behind Benjamin, when the latter turned
partly about to speak to the former.
"_Stoop! Stoop_!" shouted the doctor.
Benjamin did not understand what he meant until his head struck the
beam overhead with considerable force.
"There," said the doctor, laughing, "you are young and have the world
before you; stoop as you go through it, and you may miss many hard
thumps."
Nearly seventy years afterwards the recipient of this counsel wrote as
follows:
"This advice, thus beaten into my head, has frequently been of use
to me; and I often think of it when I see pride mortified, and
misfortunes brought upon people by carrying their heads too high."
John Collins was a clerk in the post-office. He revolved the matter of
going to Philadelphia with Benjamin a sober youth, or remaining in
Boston a drunken one. The more he pondered the more he was inclined to
accept Benjamin's advice. The appeal from Collins drunk to Collins
sober finally met his approval.
"I have decided to go with you," he said to Benjamin, the next time
they met.
"Glad to hear it, John, if you take my advice and leave the
drink-habit in Boston. I shall enjoy your company hugely."
"You shall have it. I have given up my position in the post-office,
and am packing up now. I want to carry my books with the rest of my
traps.
Pages:
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341