 | Eli Perkins (at large) |  |
ADVICE TO YOUNG MEN.
“Eli!”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you list'ning?”
continued my Uncle Consider,
as he took his pipe
out of his mouth, laid
down his glasses, and
poked the fire with the
tongs.
“With both ears, Uncle.”
“Well, let me tell you suthin'. If you want to be
wize, Eli, you must allers listen. If you want to be
wize you must let other people do all the talkin'—
then you'll soon know all they know, Eli, and have
your own nolledge besides. D'you see?”
“Yes, Uncle.”
“And never you blow a man's
brains out to get his money, Eli,
but just sly around and blow his
money out and get his brains—
“And be temp'rate and economical,
Eli, and—”
“Yes, Uncle, I always try to be
careful. I always owe enough to
pay all my debts, and I'd rather
owe a man forever than cheat him
out and borrow money to do it; I would. The fact
is, Uncle,” I said, getting excited, “I always advise
the boys to be steady and saving. I advise 'em to
stick, stick to their places and be temperate, no matter
how hard they have to work, and it'll make men of
'em. But the rascals—”
“What, Eli?”
“Why, they all pay more 'tention to my example
than they do to my precepts, and they're all turnin'
out loafers.”
“That's dre'fful sad, Eli,” said my Uncle, wiping his
eyes sorrowfully, “when I've allers talkt to you so
much about the dignity of labor—when I've allers
taught you to obey the script'ral injunction to live by
the sweat of your brow.”
“But I always do that; don't I, Uncle?”
“Yes; but how can you live by the sweat of your
brow, Eli, when you spend all your time trav'lin'
'round and lecturin' and foolin' about? How can
you?”
“Why, Uncle, that's just what I travel for. I go
down South winters, where it is hot, so I can live by
the sweat of my brow without working so hard.”
“And about this drinkin' business, Eli—this drinkin'
wine and cider and beer? Don't you know the Bible
is agin it? Don't you?”
“Yes, Uncle, I know it; but haven't you read the
parable in the Bible about turnin' water into wine?”
“Yes, my nevvy.”
“Well, that's all I do, Uncle; I just turn water into
and—”
“What's that, Eli! Do you mean to say that you
ever drink at all? Do you—”
“No, Uncle, never. The tempter came to me the
other day. But when they pressed me to take whiskey
I took umbrage—”
“Took umbrage, did you! O, my nevvy, that must
be an awful drink! Umbrage? O, did I think it
would ever come to this?—u-m-b-r-a-g-e,” and Uncle
Consider wiped his eyes with his red bandana.
“But, Uncle,” I said, trying to cheer the old man
up, “I'm opposed to whiskey. I do not drink with
impunity. I—”
“Don't drink with Impunity, Eli! Well, I thought
you allers drank with everybody who invited you.
Mebby Impunity didn't invite you, Eli? Well, well,
well, well, I am glad to find one man that you refused
to drink with, I am.” And Uncle Consider knocked
the ashes out of his pipe and fell asleep in his chair,
repeating, “Didn't drink with Impunity.”
| Eli Perkins (at large) | |