Section 198. FALSE PRIDE.
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Have pity on[1] the youth who is ashamed to be seen carrying[2] a parcel. Such a youth will never climb the hill[3]; he will never be honoured and respected by sensible, respectable[4] men. And yet how many there are (S. 82, N. 7) who have the failing[5]. Do you know the story of the young man who came down from a country town of New Hampshire, and entered the great wholesale establishment of the Lawrences—Abbot and Amos—in Boston[6]? He was a young merchant who had just commenced business[7]. He had money enough with which to purchase a certain quantity of goods, and wished to get as many more on credit[8], if they (S. 134, N. 4) would trust[9] him.
Mr. Lawrence shook his head. The young man could offer no security, and the old[10] merchants did not consider it good policy to give credit to an unknown and untried young man. The youthful customer did not blame them. He said he should probably do the same himself by one whom he did not know[11]. “However,” he added, “I hope I may grow into your confidence one of these days[12].”
Then he paid for the goods he had purchased; and when they had been done up[13], he was asked where he would have them sent[14]. “I will take[15] them myself,” was the answer. “But the parcel is heavy,” said the clerk. “And I am young and strong,” answered the customer. “No, I will take the parcel on my shoulder. I cannot earn half a dollar more easily or more honestly.” And he had taken the parcel on his shoulder, and had approached the door, when Mr. Lawrence came out of his office, where[16] he had been a spectator of the scene, and called the youth back. “You can have all the goods you want, young man[17],” he said. “Make your own selection, and set your own time for payment[18]. He who is willing to help himself, will not betray[19] those who are willing to help him.”
And the old merchant was not mistaken. That young man became one of his most valuable customers, and one of his valued[20] friends.
When Jerome Napoleon Bonaparte, son of (S. 25, N. 5) King Jerome of Westphalia and nephew of the Emperor Napoleon I., was a student of[21] Harvard College, in Cambridgeshire, he was one day carrying a bundle of clothing[22] from his washer-woman’s to his dormitory[23], when he was met by a companion[24], who asked him, with much surprise, why he had not had the bundle sent to his room.
“Why should I do that?” asked the prince. “Why[25],” said his companion with a little touch of embarrassment, “you know it doesn’t look well to carry one’s own bundle like a common labourer.”
“Bah[26],” cried Jerome, laughing, “I trust I shall never be ashamed to be seen bearing[27] anything (S. 3, N. 7) that belongs to a Bonaparte!”—The New York Herald.