Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1885-09-30
Advice TO : Young Han.

I turn over the leaves Of an old note
book, the pages of which I filed half :
score years ago. On one page find
this note: II
My books are all wrinkled and filed
with crumbs of maple and su1nac leaves
with here and there forgotten forest
leaf clinging to the printed one. All!
well, some time l may kiss the wrinkled
pages of my choicest book while Think
of the dear, white hands that laid the
maple leaves in the history or, in lexi-
con. and thank God that the page is
wrinkled and the engravings discol-
Ored.
And now, whenever I turn to that
page in the notebook, do you know,
my boy, how glad 1 am that I wrote
about the leaves as I did? There was
no shadow of fear or dread over my
little home then. There was no reason
why 1 should feel so tenderly toward
the leaves and stems that stained and
wrinkled my books, and ever kept me
from using them for week at time.
Because your books, my son, though
you crowd the literary treasures of the
world upon your shelves, can never
creep into your heart as your wife will,
some day, when you find the girl whom
the gods have decreed shall crown
your home. Because we should al
ways hold the hearts that love us
nearer to us than the petty annoyan-
ces and little ills of this life. Because
the quick, hasty word you speak in i'll
temper or ungentleness to-da y, my boy,
leaves sting in your heart to rankle
! half d century away. Because to-day,
if could, would burn up every book
there is in all this world just to feel the
little hands that laid those leaves in the
pages where l said they must not 60,
clasp themselves about my neck fol
one hour. Hold your tongue and your
pen, my boy. Every time you are
tempted to say an ungentle word, OF
write an unkind line, or say a mean,
ungracious thing about anybody, just
stop; look ahead twenty five years and
think how itmay come back to you
then.
Let me tell you how write mean
letters and bitter editorials, my boy.
Some time, when man has pitched
into me and ''cut me up rough" and
want to pulverize him and wear his
CORY scalp at my girdle and hang his
hide on my fence, write the letter OF
| editorial that is to do the business.
write something that will drive SLEEP
from his eyes and peace from his SOU
for six weeks, Oh, I do hold him over
slow fire and roast him. Gall and
aquafortis drip from my blistering pen.
Then, don't mail the letter and ]
don't print the editorial. There's al
ways plenty of time to cruelty man.
The vilest criminal is entitled to little
reprieve. put the manuscript away
in drawer. Next day look at it.
The ink is cold, I read it over
and say: II don't know about
this. There's a good deal of blud.
geon and bowie knife journalism
in that. hold it over a day longer -
The next day read it again. l laugh
and say ''Pshaw?" and feel my cheeks
getting little hot. The fact is I am
ashamed I ever wrote it, and hope
that nobody has seen it, and I have
half forgotten the article or letter that
filled my soul with rage. I haven't
been hurt. I haven't hurt anybody,
and the world goes right along max
ing twenty-four hours a day as usual,
and l am all the happier. Try it, my
boy! Put off your bitter remarks until
tomorrow. Then when you try to
save them deliberately, you'll find that
you have forgotten them, and ten years
later, ali! how glad you will be that you
did: Be good-natured, my boy. Be
loving and gentle with the world, and
you'll be amazed to sec how tenderly
worried, tried, vexed, harassed old
world loves you.-B1rdette IN Brooklyn