of the neighbors. He either
was ill with a cough or pretended to fear consumption; the doctor's
advice to set him at work in the open air was not enforced by his
anxious mother. He was a fair sample of the many thousand young men seen
now about the country stores and taverns. He had, however, the unusual
disadvantage of having his board and clothing furnished to him without
earning them. If he exercised his will, it was to turn it against
himself in a determined self-indulgence. I heard him once refer to those
days and quote Virgil in saying that "the descent to Avernus is easy."

One evening with his hands in his pockets he strolled up to the store
and post-office to meet some other young men for a game of checkers.
Under the only street lamp near the store a patent-medicine peddler had
opened one side of his covered wagon and was advertising his "universal
cure." The boy--then about nineteen years old--listened listlessly to
the songs and stories, but was not interested enough to learn what was
offered for sale. The vender of medicines held up a chain composed of
several seemingly solid rings which he skilfully took apart. He then
offered a dollar to any one who would put the rings together as they
were before. The puzzle caught the eye and interest of the careless boy;
as the rings were passed from one to another they came to him. He looked
them over and said, "I can't do it," and passed them on. The Yankee
peddler yelled at the boy, "If you talk like that you will land in the
poorhouse!" The young fellow was cut to the heart with the short rebuke.
He was inclined to answer hotly, but lacked the courage. After the
other boys had had their chance to see the rings, he asked to examine
them again; but he still saw no way to cut or open the solid steel and
contemptuously threw them at the peddler and shouted, "You're fooling;
that can't be done!" The smiling vender rolled the rings into a chain in
an instant and, throwing it to the boy, said, sarcastically: "Take it
home to your mother; she can do it!" The young fellow, ashamed, angry,
and crushed, caught the chain and crept out of the crowd and went home,
entering his room by the back stairs. He hated the peddler with a
murderous passion, but despised himself and must have wept great tears
far into the night. The next morning he sat on the side of his bed,
gazing at the chain, long after his father had gone to work. That was a
terrible battle! All who succeed must fight