Mountain Home bulletin. (Mountain Home, Idaho) 1888-1889, 1889-02-16
"Excuse me-"
"Certainly. Pardon me-"

SeFthtuly. dVuou Hsc'
heard the above snatch OF conver-
sation the last time was in New York. |
1t occurred in the evening at the New |
York end of Brooklyn Bridge, which,
ut that hour, was crowded with men
hurrying home. The snatch of con-
YER ,ation reads rather like polite re-
mark and rejoinder. 1t was any thing
but that. The first speaker was push
ing and elbowing his way forward.
when he trod on another's corns. The
second man swOre and glared around,
when the first said, suavely:
Excuse me-"
The wounded man like flash struck
out from the shoulder, knocked the
other in the middle of next week, and
replied:
Certainly. Pardon me-"
The striker rapidly disappeared into
the gathering gloom before the struck
recovered himself sufficiently to shout
''pOlice."
The moral of the incident seemed to
me to be that in some instances eX-
cuse don't "go."
years of age called up at my room and
said, after introducing himself, that he
wanted advice"
about what?" asked.
''About nothing in particular. he
said. as he fumbled somewhat nervously
with his hat. You see. it's like this: l
want to get along in the world and l
70 7
would like some advice.
This was such an unusual request
from modern American boy that it
quite took my breath away. Most OF
the boys who come up to see me don't
want advice-they want to know
where to get cigarette pictures or tick
cts to some game.
vice. He had a fresh. honest face,
and felt had no hesitation in setting
him down as a good boy who would
probably make his way in the world.
.'Well, my boy" l said, seriously,
''there is one thing I'd advise you to
quit. II was you, I'd stop getting
drunk and raising racket on the
That's my advice"
''Inever touched drop Of liquor in
my life" said the boy, with SO panied
an expression that | was sorry l had
spoken in this way TO him.
''Don't smoke, suppose?"
.'No, SIR"
'Chew, snuff; any thing OF that
kind?"
mo. SIR"
"Read fash novels?"
mo. sir"
.'Swear2"
mo, SIR"
.Fight?"
r"No, sir"
..Well." said. 'that's all very un-
fortunate for me. II you have any
vices it would help me out il you tell
mo what they are. II yoL committed
burglary as relaxation or sand
bagged friend occasionally it would
make my task as adviser much easier.
As you don't do any of these things
Ill think over the matter, and II yol
come up tomorrow I'll, perhaps, see
my way clearer than do now"
The boy thanked me, although
knew l did not deserve any thanks
Next day he called again. In the in
terval had remembered the incident
on Brooklyn bridge Now, the maj
said Excuse me" and had been knock
ed down.
"Well. my boy" began, "my ad
vice is this: Never make an excuse
There is proverb which says: "A
poor excuse is better than none.
That adage is as wrong as mos
Of them are. Even good ex
cuse is not better than none
There are thousands OF people il
this world, my boy, who are magnifi
cent architects of excuses. Some O
them manage to get along prett!
well building up imposing excuses
and letting others do their regu-
lar work, but they never amount t,
much in the long run. No one eve
depends on a man who is good at ex
cuses.
When was In Chicago last summe
the city editor Of one of the paper
there told me this story. which viii
show the advantage of not having al
excuse:
Some years ago green-looking fel
low appeared in the city editors room
from no one knew where and wanted
job. The city editor told him, as h
had told hundreds OF fellows befor
him, that there was no vacancy q
present that IL the usual formuls-