My wild oats were all
_raked_ in. I was getting away from nineteen very rapidly--happily
receding from the boy of _that_ period. Mrs. BROWNGREEN beheld a man
devoted to domestics and the dailies. The clubs I left behind me--twice
a week. I was at home early--in the morning. I kept careful watch of my
goings and comings--so did my curious neighbors. I had my family around
me--also sheriffs and trades-people. I stood tolerably well in the
community; for I was straight in those times even when in straits. But
there was one stand I never did like to take--anywhere in sight of my
tailors. They were ungrateful. I _gave_ them any amount of patronage,
and they turned on me and wanted me to pay for it. That's the way of the
world. It wants much, and it wants it long; and when its bills come in,
it is found to be the latter dimensions with an emphasis.
Well, boys, when you get out of the nineteens, you will begin to learn
something. First of all, that you don't know much of any thing. That's
the beginning of wisdom, though twenty is pretty well on to begin at a
good school. You will learn that frogs are not so large as elephants,
and that a gas-bag is sure to end in a collapse.
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