Y * ^ * T». C Carpe diem. I Take time by the forelock. 20. She carries the bell. 21. He is sowing his wild oats. 22. He would have his own way. 23. If I was he. 24. A stitch in time saves nine. 25. He has come out at the little end of the horn. 26. Stolen waters are sweet. 27. Tell us a story ? PROMPTER. NUMBER 1. A Bellows. A Bellows 13 a very useless piece of household furniture 1 The Blacksmith and the Silversmith must have a Bellows ; but in a family there \i no need of a Bellows, Dr. Franklin has said, time is money. The Prompter says, common sense is money. If wood is so laid upon the hearth, that it will not burn without blowing, the man who lays it, is not the wiser for experience, nor has he improved by facts within his daily observation. My friend, Jack Lounger, puts his coals and brands on the hearth, and piles green wcod above ; then goes to work with the., bellows. He blows till the room is full of smoke ; he makes a little blaze ; then stops ; the blaze subsides; then he plies the >. 1- 8 TttiB PROMPTER. lows, till he ia quite vexed ; the fire fakes its own time ; nature will not be hurried. Bii.L,Y Trim, with the same advantages for improvement, has attended more to the principles of nature. He lays a fore-stick near the log or back stick, but not con- tiguous to it; he places the brands of fire and large coals on the top, leaving small openings of half an inch or an inch, then lays dry wood loosely over the coals. The '^.shes below are removed; a current of air ascends ; the fire brightens and soon en- kindles into a tiame. . Billy Trim calls this '^Nature's Bellows:" every person can make it ; it costs nothing; common sense re money. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 2. Green wood will last longer thari dry. So will straw for cattle last longer than hay. But the question is which will make the best fires and most heat. Ask the dis- tillcv ; the brick maker ; the potter ; these people will tell you that dry wood will THE PROMPTER. d inalie more heat, as well as give it more steadily thatt green. It is a slovenly prac- tice to burn green wood ; you lay a pile of green wood over the fire ; it will not burn ; you get kindlers, which make a blaze; you blow it with the bellows; it smokes; after half an hour's work, the juices of the wood are so far evaporated that the wood just begins to burn. For some time, you have a roasting fire. Then the fire decays, and the room being Vvcll heated, you neglect the fire, till a few coals only remain. Then you pile on another supply of green wood, which re- quires another half hour's labour, while you are freezing with cold. The Prompter says, burn dry Avood, ex- cept for logs ; put on but a stick or two at o;ice ; this will make a fire immediately, without a bellows and without troubl'e. As soon as the fire subsides, feed it again with a single stick ; thus keeping the air of your room of uniform temperature. This will heat your room better with less wood. Get your wood in winter; cut it up or saw it, and lay it in your wood-house. Then you will not be vexed for wood in summer, nor with smoking away the sap of green wood with bellows blowing. 10 THE PROMPTKR. " But have no wood house." Then you want a very necessary bi||lfiiing. If you cannot cover your wood, be content to pile it in the open air, six months before burning. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 3. A JYose. What of a JSTose ? Tristram Shandy has ■jaid much of Noses, which I shall not re- peat. I was in company the other day, with a friend of mine who had been read- ing Lavater on Physiognomy. He was struck, it seems, with Lavater's remark that the JYose is the index of a man^s abilities. If the Nose grows from end to end in a line with the forehead, so that a line drawn from the forehead to the tip of the Nose, will strike the Nose at both ends, tt is said to be an infallible proof that the man who wears the Nose, has little gen- ius. But when the Nose peeps out of the nead close upon a line with the eyes, so that the line from the forehead to the tip of THE PROMPTER. 11 the Nose leaves a deep hollow in the Nose between the eyes, there says Lavater is the index of genius. What of all this ? Noth- ing indeed ; but I am determined to take a trip to New Haven and examine the No?es of our Representatives. For logick says if the Nose on one man's face is an index of his genius ; the Noses of the Representa- tives of the State will furnish an index of the genius of the whole State. Gentle reader! It would amuse the Prompter to see thee, after reading this, take a peep in the glass at thy own JYose. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 4. The Under -Lip, Most people think the lips are made merely to cover the teeth, and to kiss and be kissed. This is not true ; for they do not always cover the teeth ; in some faces a projecting tooth is the first thing that presents itself to view ; nor are lips always used for kissing, for some nations kiss the cheek or a hand or an ear. But to my 12 THE PROMPTER. purpose : a lip, like Lavater's Nose may be an index of the mind. I pass over all kinds of lips, but the large, hanging, drivling Under-Lip. ■ This sort of lip savors of the drone. It is the enemy of all order, neat- ness and industry. 1 had rather have Ma- ry Magdalen's seven demons in the family, than one huge drivling Under-Lip. Nay, I would as soon employ a man, with Lav- ater's strait Nose, to make laws for the state, as a man or woman with a mons-, trous Under-Lip, to labour for me. Na- ture has been kind enough to hang out, upon every man's face, the sign of the commodities for market within. Then look at the sign before you make a bar- gain. Yet in avoiding the Lip of dullness, don't run against edge tools. A thin p^iiv of Lips, that make good joints, are usually wrought of good stuff, well tempered by nature, and honed to a razor's edge. Touch them and they cut. Look to that, gentle reader. THE PROMPTER. IS THE PROMPTER. NU3IBER 5. Every one to his notion. Most certainly ; and the Prompteu io his notion of course. If a man is a little odd in his way, his friends say he is a no- tional creature, ov full of notions. And where is the man or woman living, that is not full ofnotiojis. Love is the most notional passion; not excepting ambition and superstition. I once knew a woman, who had a very ami- able daughter, declare it was monstrous indelicate for a young- lady to love a man. She might love an elegant house, a car- riage, and even money : but to love a ?nan's person was shocking. But eve7'y one to her notion. When I was a young man, I knew an at- torney who was attached to what is called family ; that is, whose family, by good luck, had stripped off their woolen shirts and checked aprons, just one generation before, and kept them off, till their com- panions who had associated with them in their woolen dress, were mostly dead. The attorney had not wore linen shirts 8o long 14 THE PROMPTER by ten years as this family ; and yet had the assurance to fall in love with one of the daughters. The man however did not meet with cold looks from the daughter : but the parents walked a tip toe at the af- front offered their family. The daughter was notional as well as the parents: they intended to have their 7iotion, but she had hers : and a very good notion it was, for a more happy couple does not exist. But the queerest of all notions is, that parents will not permit a daughter, no nor even a son, to love for himself. I know a widow \wi^\ a family of likely daughters, who insists upon it that her daughters do not know how to love for themselves: she therefore will love for them. She is a queer woman, and a notional creature : but every one to his notion. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 6. He does not work it right. What a vulgar saying the Prompter has selected for his text in this number ; THE PROMPTER 15 Yet these vulgar sayings are often full ot good sense. I knew a young man who left the army with an invincible attachment to gambling. fie followed it closely till he had lost most of his wages ; he then purchased a shop of goods, mostly on credit : he had his night- ly frolicks : he kept it up ; he was a blood of the first rate ; his goods were soon gone and not paid for ; his creditors called and he began to shrug his shoulders ; in fact, he did not work it right. But his friends helped him out of six scrapes, yes out of seven. At length necessity broke his spir- it ; it tamed him ; he married ; became a man of business; recovered his lost cred- it ; and now he works it right. I often say to myself, as I ride about the country, what a pity it is our farmers do not work it right. When I see a man turn his cattle into the street to run at large and waste their dung, during a winter's day, I say this man does not work it right. Ten loads of good manure at least, are lost in a season by this slovenly :^actice ; and all for what ? For nothing indeed, but to ruin a farm. So when I see cattle, late in the fall or early in the spring, rambling in a meadow IS TUK PROMPTER. or mowing field, poaching the soil and breaking the grass roots, I say to myself, this man does not work it right. So when I see a harn-yard with a drain eading into the highway, I say the owner does not work it right ; for how easy it is to make a yard hollow, or lowest in the middle, to receive all the wash of the sides, which will he thus kept dry for the cattle. The wash of the yard, mixed with any kind of earth, or straw, is the best manure in the world; yet how much do our far- mers lose 1 In fact, they do not work it right. " When I pass along the road and see a house with the clap-hoards hanging an end by one nail, and old hats and cloths stuffed into the broken windows, and the fences tumbling down or destroj'^ed, I conclude the owner loves rum and brandy; in truth he does not work it right. When I see a man frequently attending courts, I suspect he does not loorh it right. When I see a countryman often go to the retailers with a bottle, or the laboring man carrying home a bottle of rum, after his work is done on Siiturday-night, I am certain the man does not work it right. When a farmer divides a farm of 100 acres of land among five or six sons, and THE PROMPTER. 17 builds a small house for each and sets them to work for a living on a little patch of land, I question whether he icorksit right. And when these sons are afterwards unable to live on these mutilated farms, and are compelled by a host of children, to go to work by the day to get hread, I believe they are all convinced that they have not worked it right. When a rnan tells me his wife will not consent to go from home into new settle- ments, where he may have land enough and live. like a nabob, and therefore he is obliged to sit down on a corner of his fa- ther's farm, I laugh at him, and some time or other he will own, he has not worked it right. A man in trade who is not punctual in his payments, certainly does not ivork it right ; nor does the man, who trusts his goods to any body and every body. Whether in Congress or a kitchen, the person who talks much is little regarded. Some members of Congress then certainly do not work it right. A hint to the ivise is sufficient; but twenty hints have not been sufficient to silence the clamorous tongues of some congressional spouters. Family government gives complexion to the manners of a town ; but when we 2 13 THE rnOilPTER. see, every where, chiklrcn profane, indeli- cate, rude, saucy, we may depend on it their jiurents do not work it right. I once knew a young man of excellent hopes, who was deeply in love with a la- dy ; The first time he had an opportunity to whisper in her ear, and before he hud ma-e any impression on her heart in his favor*, he sighed out his sorrowful tale to her, in full explanation : the lady was frightened ; she soon rid herself of the dis- tressed lover ; s5ie said he did not icork it risht. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 7. It will do for ike present. This common saying does as much mis- chief in society as rtimov ix ]'>(■' stilcncc. If I hear a man, whether a farmer, aracchan- ick, or any other person, often repeat that saying and-appcar to act from the opinion, that it will do for the present, I rely on it he IS a sloven, a drone o something worse. I never knew such a m^ to thrive. THE PROMPTEH. 19 A young man setting out in life, is in ha5teto be married. He wants a house to live in, but is not fully able to build one. Yet his pride requires a large showy house. At last, between poverty and pride, he de- termines to build a large house, but not to finislr it till he is 7hore able. He sets up a large two story house, with four rooms in a story; he covers it and paints it. This is a showy house-; his pride exults to see passengers stare at his elegant house. But though pride governs the outside, poverty reigns within ; he can finish but two rooms, half finish one or two more; and lay a loose floor above, to spread his corn upon. This elegant mansion house then is a gra- nary ; a corn-house. The man and a litter of children below ; and rats and mice above. But the man says itvAll do for the jiresent. True, but the man has but 20 or 30 acres of land, or an indifTeient trade ; his family grows faster than his income ; he is not able to tinish his house. The cov- ering soon decays and admits water; the house falls to pieces; the man is forced poor into the wilderness, or he and his children loiter alout, dependent on their neighbors for subsistence by day labor. I know one of these do-for-the-present farmers who never effectually repairs his 20 THE PROMPTEn. fences ; but when a breach is made, he fills it with a bush that a sheep may remove ; if a rail is broke, and another is not at hand, he takes the next billet of wood, in- serts one end in the post and ties up the other with elm or hickory bark; he says, this ivill do for the present. His cattle learn to be unruly; to remedy the evil, fetters, shackles, clogs, yokes and what he callsj^oATS are invented ; and his cattle and horses are doomed to hobble about their pasture, with a hundred weight of wood or iron machines upon their feet and necks. The man himself in two years spends time enough in patching up his fences and mak- ing shackles, to make a good effectual fence round his whole farm, which would want very little repairing in -twenty years. In family affairs, these do-for-the-pres- ejit-folks double their necessary labor : They labor hard to put things out of order, and then it requires nearly the same work to put them into order again. A man uses an axe, a hoe, a spade, and throws it down where he uses it ; instead of putting it in its proper place under cover. Exposed to the weather, tools do not last more than half so long, as when kept housed ; but this is not ali: a sloven leaves the tool where he last .used it ; or throws it down THE PROMPTER. 21 any where at random : in a few days he wants it again ; he has forgot where he left it ; he goes to look for it : he spends perhaps half an hour in search of it, or walks a distance to get it ; this time is lost, for it breaks in upon some other business. The loss of this small portion of time ap- pears trifling ; but slovens and sluts incur such losses every day ,• and the loss of these little scraps of time determines a man's fortune. Let the Prompter make a little calculation. A farmer, whose fami- ly expends four hundred dollars a year, if he can clear forty dollars a year, is a thriving man. In order to get this mon- ey suppose he labors ten hours in a day : in this case if he loses an hour every day, in repairing the carelessness of the day be- fore, (and every sloven and every slut looses more time than this, every day, for v/antof care and order) he looses a tenth part of his time ; a tenth part of his in- come. Such a man cannot thrive ; he must grow poorer, for want of care, of or- der, of method. So it is with a woman. A neat woman who does business thoroughly, keeps things iti order with about half the labor that a slut employs who keeps things forever out of order. If a pail or a kettle is used, it 23 THE PROMPTER. is directly made clean, fit for other uses and put in its place. When it is wanted, it is ready. But a slut uses an article and leaves it any where, dirty, unfit for use another time: by and by it is wanted and cannot be found, " Moll, where did you leave the kettle ?" " I han't had the ket- tle ; Nab had it last." " Nab did you have the kettle?" "Yes, but it is dirty." So the kettle is found, but it is a half hour's woik to fit it for the purpose required ; in the meantime, the necessary business must be delayed. Yet this woman says, when she does any thing, it will do for the jrrcs- eiit. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 8. It will do for the present. — Part 2d. Custom, with an iron rod, rules four fifths of mankind. My /a^/ier planted corn in a certain piece of land ; it answered well ; I do the same, though it does not answer well. My neighbor such a one tells me I had better try a change of crops. THE PROMPTER. 23 deep plou2,hing or sowing- turneps or c?o- vcr ; it may be the land will recruit. But my neighbor is notional and fond of new tilings} I do not like projects. My fa- ther did so before me, and- it docs for the ■present. So says the Virginian Planter ; he has raised tobacco on a field, until the soil is ex- hausted ; he knows not how to fertilize the land again ; his only resource is to clear a new spot and take benefit of nature's ma- nure. T/iis does for the present. But when his land is all impoverished, what will he do ? Go to Kentucky or Mississippi, as the New-England men to Genesee or Ohio. Bat when the western •.>7orId is all peopled, what will our do for (he present folks do for good land ? The answer is easy; necessity will compel them to use common sense ; and comaiou sense will soon make old poor land rich again. Y/hen farmers learn to twork it right, they will keep it good, for the Prompter ventures to assert, . that a proper tillage will forever keep land good. How does nature work it ? Why nature covers land with herbage ; that herbage withers and rots upon the land ; and gradually forms a rich black mould. But farmers when they have used land till it will bear no crops, let it lie without feed- 24 THE PROMPTER. ing it. No herbage grows on the land, till weeds and a little grass creep in by chance ; after three or four years, the farmer plows it for a crop and has a job at killing weeds. Surely the man does not icork it right ; but he says, this will do for the present. I will close with the following short, but pertinent letter, which I have lately '•• '^ived from an unknown hand. To TiiK Prompter. liv your last number, do you mean 7Jie? A. B. To A. B. Sir, I do, and all that are like you between A and Z, and you have not on earth a bet- ter friend than the Prompter. Sir, THE PROMPTER 25 THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 9. JTo THE Prompter. Hoiv should I work it ? A. Z. According to what is to be done. If you would do a great deal and do it well, write in large letters and paste up over the fire place of your keeping-room, the following maxim of the great De Wit, Pensionary of Holland, do one thing ONLY AT A TIME. Are you a farmer ? keep each kind of work, as much as possible by itself. Don't run to half a dozen fields in a day and work a little in each ; unless necessity obliges you to do it. That work which may be done at any time, should be done in winter or when you have leisure. Get wood in winter and cover it ; if I see a man, in midst of harvest, forced to go af- ter a load of wood, I am sure he has not worked it right. Keep a complete set of instruments or tools. When I see a man running to one neighbor after a fan, and to another after a shovel, I set'him down, not only as poor, but as doomed to be poor. 26 tux: PKOMPTEa. His neighbor's fan or his shovel will do far the present, but the occasions for them oc- cur often, and how much time and labor are lost in goina; after them ! If you would work to advantage keep a co(|(^)lete set of utensils for your business ; keep them hous- ed, that they may last lonii; ; and in their place, that you may easily find them. Do not run in debt to buy land. Land will not generally support a family, and pay taxes and interest on its value. If ^you have but a small piece of land, culti- ' vate it well, make it produce as much as possible, and if you can get more than will maintain you from this little farm, lay out the surplus in buying more. If you can- not get more than a subsistence, it is time to think of lessening expenses, or selling out and buying new land. Depend on it, fari^rs who pay interest, do not work it ri^U't. Never do ■ work to the halves. If you build a house or a barn, Jay a plan that is within vour power and then finish what you begin. For want of the Za&fhalf, the first isoftcn totally lost. Sm, THE PROMPT I:R. 27 THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 10. *To THE Prompter. How should I work it ? Are you a parent ? Then you have a hard task to be both the friend and the master of your children ; and if you are not both, you do not work it right. Some- times yoii are the fond indulgent parent ; nothing is too good for the darling ; he Riay pout ind strike, or kick over the tea- kettle, cups and glasses ; and you tvould just moderately say, " why Billy, hov/ you behave ; that is not pretty ; 1 shan't love you for that." At other times you are in a pet, and the child by accident in mere play, or in attempting to drink, lets fall a tumbler, or a tea cup ; you fly at h^m. and fail on him like a mastif, and cufT his ears and shake him to a jelly. In ih& first case you are the iceak silly dupe of your child ; in the last, you are the tyrant, thus you do not work it right. Hear what the Prompter says ; Never strike your child in a passion ; never punish him for acci- defital mischief; never fail to punish him 28 THE PROMPTER. for ohstinate disobedience or willful mis- chief; and, a word to you in particular, when you have real cause to correct him, never cease, till his temper gives way, and he becomes really submissive.*^ A blow or two only raises his anger and increases willful obstinacy ; if you quit him then, you do hurt rather than good ; you make your child worse. But if you continue to apply the rod, till his mind bends and soft- ens down into humble supplication, believe me, that child will rarely or never want a second correction ; the Prompter has tried it in repeated instances. But, say some people, the rod should be sparingly used. True, but as most people use it, one correction only makes way for another, and frequent whippings harden the child, till they have no effect. Now mind the Prompter ; two sitnple rules, if observed, will prevent this. 1st. JVever punish a child, when he does not desei've it ; 2d. When he does deserve it, make the first punishment effectuai.. If you strike a child for accidental mischief, or for what he does ignorantly or in good humor, the child is not conscious he has done wrong ; he is grieved at first ; if such punishmenUs frequent, it excites indigna- tion ; he is angry with his parent and thinks THE rR03IPTEK. 29 him cruel ; then correction does more hurt than good, I sincerely believe that nine times out of ten, the bad conduct of children is owing to parents ; yet parents father most of it upon Adam and the Devil. Parents then do not workit right ; They work it thus ; A child .wants an apple ; and a child is governed by ajopetite, not by reason ; the parent says he must not have it ; but he says it with a simple unmeaning tone of voice, that makes no impression on the child ; the child cries for the apple ; the parent is angry, and tells him, he shan't have the apple ; the child bawls: and perhaps strikes his little brother, or throws down a glass in anger ; at last the parent is tired with the noise and to appease the child, gives him the apple. Does this pai'ent work it right ? So far from it that he loses the little authority he had over the ihild ; the order of things is changing ; the child is the master ; and when the child has been master a few months, you may as well break his neck, as his icill. A thousand la- shes on a young master^s back, will not do so much as one . decisive conunand, before he becomes master of his parents. Now listen to my advice ; a child does not regard so much what a parent says, as 30 THE PROMPTER. 7ww he says it. A child looks at his pa- rent's eye, when he speaks ; and there he reads intuitively what his parent means and how ?nuch he means. If a paren* speaks with an air of indifference, rcith out emphans, or looks another way when he speaks, the child pays little or no regard to what he says. (I speak of a young- child over whom a parent has not yet established an authority.) But if a parent, when he commands a child to do or not to do, looks at him with the eye of command, and speaks with a tone and air of decision and authority, the child is impressed with this manner of commanding, and will seldom venture to disobey. A steady uniform au- thority of this kind, which never varies from its purpose, which never gives way to the caprices or appetites of children, which carries every commz^ndi i7ito effect, will prevent the necessity of a rod. 1 am bold to say that a parent who has this steady au- thority will never have occasion to correct a child of common sensibility ; and never hut once, a child of imcommon obstinacy. This is the way every parent and master should work it. But the common practice is, for a parent to throw away his own authority and be- come the slave of his children : and when TKE PROMPTKR. SI the youninj 7nas{crs grow head stronpj and commit all manner of mischief, then the parent complains of old Adam, original sin and the Devil ; and declares he'll drive the devil out, or he'll know the reason why. Then for the Ji3t and the rod. THE PROMPTER. KUMBER 11. It is better to borrow thar^ to buy. So says ray correspondent, hut he things as. I do. Yes, if you v/ant a thing hut tmce in your life, it is better to borrow than to buy. But think of borrowin:^ the instru- ments o{ every day, ov of vrofessio7ial busi- ness ! Yes, it is cheaper to borroio 1000 dollars than to earn it ; but look ye, when a man has borrowed the money, how much licher is he for it ? It is easier to go once to a neiglibor's for a shovel, than to work two days to buy it ; but alack, a fiirmer wants a shovel a great many times in tlie year; and the trouble of going after it and return- ing it is interest on the worth of it; yes, double interest. Now look ye to this, my 32 THE PROMPTER. friend; if a man works two days for a shovel, he earns it and he has a shovel of his own:, he is richer by the whole value of a shovel. But when he goes to borrow it, he labors and gets • nothing ; he may spend a week's time in borrowing, but where is his shovel when he has done ? Does he work it right ? To THE Prompter. Sir, Suppose public officers to be unfaithful, and some thbiisands,pf pounds in arrear ; or, suppose men in the first offices of gov- ernment, act like mere old women ; do they work it right 7 Tom Qukrsst. The Prompter thinks they do not ; but they do not work it half so tvrong as those who fill offices with such men. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 12. Come, tve'll take the other sip. The grog-drinker is not the only man who takes the other sip. The drone, the THE PROMPTER. 33 sluggard opens his eyes upon t!^€! morning dawn; he stretches; rolls over; gapes; feels drowsy ; says it is time enough yet ; hugs the pillow, and takes the other sip. He naps away a precious hour or two, when he might have earned his breakfast. The gamester takes a hand at whist in the evening ; a hand or two can do no harm ; it is an amusement; a quarter of a dollar a corner is a trifle ; his mind is eri- gaged ; if he has Zosi a game, he must play another to win ; if he has won, he hopes to win again; he must take the othetjsip; and the other ; and the other ; the b^ rings nine o'clock ; but one hand ?/zore can do no harm ; who would go to bed with the chickens? The clock strikes ftccZi'c;. b'ut one hand more and I positively go ; the clock strikes ojie ; he starts; scolds at his luck ; but the next evening he'll t^ke another sip ; he swears he'll recover what he has lost; he marches home, when not an animal should be awake, but owls aud rats and thieves. »* The poor man, with a i;core of barefoot- ed children, breadless and ^aked, v/crks hard foi- a liltlo meat to sifence the de- mands of hunger, and a little wood io warm their naked limbs,. But there is a Lottery ; U prize of a thousand dollars i 34 THE PROMPTKfl. and not two blanks to a prize ! Yes, one prize that is worth having, among nine thousand tickets ! Glorious chance ! nine thousand to one against him I But a tick- et he must have. Four or five days la- bor, the subsistence of several days must be bartered for a ticket ! JYins thousand to one against him ! Is this all ? No, no. He is anxious for good fortune ; he must stand by and see the drawing ; a week more lost; time is money ; the price of the ticket is two dollars, and it costs him four. The wheel of fortune rolls and rolls and rolls him up — a blank. But like the grog- drinker, who takes the other sip, he must try his luck again. Luckless man ! ?iine thousand to 07ie, is odds against him. On^ certainty is better than a thousand Lotte- ries, where some thousands of probabilities are against a man. Suppose a poor man saves enough out of his usual grog expenses to buy a ticket ;" but it would be better to save the money to buy bread and a pair of shoes for a shoe- less boy. THE PROMPTER. 83 THE PROMPTER. KUMBER 13. Any other time will do as well. Yes, yes ; but are you sure that any oth- er time will arrive ? or if it should, are you certain you can attend to it ? If I hear a man or a woman say frequently, aiiy other time will do as ivell, I set them down on my list, the one as slack, slovenly ; the other, a careless slip-shod hussy. Call en such a man to settle his accounts ; *• O, I can't attend to it now," says the man, " it will do as well any other time."^ Call again ; O I am busy ; it will do as well to-morrow, or any other time. Call a third and a fourth time ; but he is never ready. The account stands unsettled ; it encreases from year to year ; at length death, that sturdy tyrant, trips up his heels, and lays him flat on his back : his accounts unsettled : his administrator has work e- nough upon his hands ; for a man who will- settle his accounts at any other time, will generally make his charges in the same way ; he does not set down every article at the time o£ purchase or sale ; he trusts to memory ; ne can remember the article S6 THE PROMPTER. and price and charge it at any other time ; he forgets ; makes mistakes ; his books are irregularly kept : they are disputed ; his administrator has no proof but the books ; and other people are alive to swear to their accounts or produce other evidence. Then begin lawsuits; and when law opens the door of litigation, poverty follows up close and enters with it. Juries and arbitrators decide these disputes upon vague uncer- tain evidence ; and somebody suffers the loss. So much for this any other time. But suppose a man lives long, as the worst men sometimes live the longest ; why he plagues every one that has any dealings with him ; yes, and is eternally haunted himself. The Prompter has heard it said, that taJie care of the farthings, the pounds ui 1 1 take care of themselves. Now a word up- on this, if you please. Take special care of little shilling accounts ; they are like the old serpent, who deceived Eve, sly, insin- uating, tempting things. "How much does it cost ?" is the question whenever an article is to be purchased. A shilling, is the answer. O, then get it by all means : a shilling is a trifle. It is so, but " sands form the mountain.'^ Look^ i)a0t I say. The whole evil is, that i\ds"9htlling is a fUTS, PROMPTER. 87 h-ifle ; a dollar ! that is no trifle I can't af- ford a dollar ; Very well : a dollar con- sists only of the small number of six shil- lings, and when six of these little trifles, these Lilliputian shillings are gone ; a dollar, that gigantic part of a man's es tate, is gone. Now then in order to baffle the tempta- tion of spending shillings ; settle your ac- counts often ; once a year at least ; for otherwise they will swell into an unman- ageable size. Suppose four neighbors take a news-paper, in partnership ; this makes the expence ^ trifie ; very good ; this is laudable; it is economical. But suppose you do not pay this trifle. How are the printers and post-riders and paper-makers, to live ? Look ye, my friends ; Connec- ticut river is a large river ; but this river is made up of little springs that will run through a gimblet hole. Vv^hen you walk about your fields, or traverse the woods, you step over little brooks, and little gur- gling rills, and never think you are stri- ping over Connecticut river. But rem-r ber, if all these little rills dry up. Conn ticut river is gone. Just so it is with Pi i.i- ters, v.ith Merchants, and with the State Treasury. Every shilling Is a little rill ; a small stream that runs into the post-ri- 33 THE PROMPTER. der's pocket or the collector's purse ; a number of these little streams, thus united, make a large stream, like Farmington and Chickopee rivers; these streams empty in- to the printing-office or treasury, where they form Connecticut river and keep the business going on. Now follow nature ; little rills run perpetually. They murmur too, but they ru7i, or the river dries up ; They never stop and say, any other time will do as well. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 14. Any other ti?ne will do as well. Nature never says this. She jogs on without delay and always does her work in season. The Parson puts off preparation for Sun- day, from Monday to Tuesday, and from Tuesday to Wednesday, and so on to Sat- urday. He can write a sermon at any time. The first of the week slides away in visits; in business; in amusements; the last of the week is to be devoted to THE PROMPTBR. 39 study ; but company, a sick parishioner, and twenty unexpected avocations break in upon the reserved part of the week ; no preparation is made for the duties of Sun- day, until Saturday evening; a genii may yet be tolerably well prepared ii : few hours; but how few are the preatii ers of such genius ! Yet even the dull have a resource ; an eld sermon with a nav text is just as good as a fresh made sermon. True, for how few would know "whether they had heard a sermon once or a dozen times. Happy dullness ! Like peo- ple, like priest ! The doctor has a patient in a dangerous situation; he hurries to his relief; he makes no delay. But suppose his patient has a lingering disorder; why, says f!-. doctor, I can visit him at any time. I . has assigned an hour indeed when )io vv; see his patient ; but any other time inW ■■ as u-ell. The patient waits till (he her: past; then he becomes impatient; i: disorder is not violent, niopt probably ! cross and irritable ; be frets at the docf and ten to one the doctor loses his iU«(o! Then the doctor believes with the Pjol >> ter, that no time will do so well as the right time. The Lawyer has several cases in court : 40 THE PROMPTER. he can prepare them for trial at any time. Several cases stand assigned for trial be- fore his ; he can finish the pleadings at any time ; by some unforeseen accident, busi- ness takes a new turn : the court urge for- ward to complete it ; his cases are called, and they are not ready ; a nonsuit ; a con- tinuance ; or some other expensive alter- native is the consequence. The Farmer's fence is down and his fields exposed to his neighbor's cattle ; but he has a little job to do first ; he can repair his fences at any time ; before his any time comes, fifty or a hundred sheep get into his field and eat and trample down his wheat ; for want of an hour's vrork, he loses ten, fifteen or twenty bushels of wheat. His apple trees want pruning ; but he must dress his flax before he can do it ; warm weather approaches ; he will certainly prune his trees in a day or two, but he'll finish a little job first; before he has done, the season is past ; it is too late to prune his trees ; they must go another year ; and half his fruit is lost. The lounging house-wife rises in the morning in haste; for lazy folks are ever in a hurry ; she has not time to put on her clothes properly ; but she can do it at any time. She di^ws on her gown, but leave* •riiE PROMPTER. 41 it half pinned ; her handkerchief is thrown awry across her neck ; her shoes down at her heels; she bustles about with her hair over her eyes ; she runs from room to room slip-shod, resolved to do rip the icorlz and dress herself; but folk? who are slip- shod about the feet, are usually slip-shod all over the house and all day ; they leri^in every thing and finish nothing. In the midst of the poor woman's hurry, some- body comes in ; she is in a flutter ; runs into the next rooms ; pins up her gown and handkerchief; hurries back v.'ith her heels thumping the floor; O dear you have cutched us all in the suds ; I intended to have cleaned iqy before any body came in ; but I have had every thing to do this morning; in the meantime, she catches hold of the broom and begins to sweep ; the dust rises and stifles every soi.l pres- ent. This is ill manners indeed to brush the dust into a neighbor's face ; but tho woman is very sorrow it happens so. Many a neighbor has thus been enter- tained with apologies and dust at a friend's house, and wherever this takes place, de- pend on it, the mistress puts otf to any time, that is, to no time ; what ought to be done at the present time. 42 THE PROMPTER. TO CORRESPONDENTS. The Prompter sends his respects to his correspondents, with thanks for their aid. As it is his professed business to give good hints, he is cordially disposed to take them. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 15. When a man's name is up, he may lay abed till noon. Our good country folks who talk En- glish, when they mean to say a man's fame is spread abroad, or his reputation ex- tensively established, say, his name is itp^ or he has got his name i(p. How blessed is the man who has got his name up. Every body knows how a certain asti-on- omer got his name up for ^ great Alma- nack maker, by foretelling snow in the month of May. The truth was, in the copy of his Almanack, in the month of May, there happened to be a blank space ; he cast about for something to fill the blank space ; snow was the first word that THE PROMPTER. 43 ■ :'* occurred, aixd snow "was written in the blank. Heaven, not by accident, for Heaven has nothing to do with the capri- cious things called accidents ; heaven had determined there should be snow that year in May, and snow there was, though the almanack maker had as little foreknowl- edge of this as his horse block. No soon- er did it snow, but all the world looked in- to the almanack ; " La, (said the world) our almanack tells us of snow at this very time. This is a knowing man ; he is a gen- ius." What a lucky hit ! The marl's name was up , no almanack so good as his ; and while he continued to make almanacks, Sir Isaac Newton himself would have starved upon almanack making, within the fame of this mighty conjurer, whose alma- nacks, by one mere guess, had got his name up and drove all competitors from the market. When this was done, he might lie abed till noon. A single blunder before his name was up, would have dam- ned his almanacks ; afterwards, fifty errors only gave credit to his woi-k, for, say the world, great men ?7iay mistake, but this man's name is up. I have known a man get Ms name up by curing the belly ache (excuse me La- dies, for the Ladlea in Philadelphia of the 44 THE PROMPT£tt. tip top fashion call certain rolls of sweet cake by a much less delicate name) with a powder of unknown composition. All at once the doctor is sent for to cure the bel- ly ache. Even the boys who eat screen apples must have the belly ache Doctor : Skill, science, wisdom, prudence are <^11 prostrated before that doctor and his pow- der. If his patients die, no matter ; his 7iame is up, and he will still have business. It is a good thine; to get one^sname up ; especially for curing some disease that no body else can cure ; one that is com- monly fatal. The more terrifyinej the dis- ease, the better ; as the consumption or cancers, for example. But the most de- lectable way for the fviculty to get up their names, is, to advertise as German Doctors, to prescribe for all diseases by inspecting a sample of the water ; hov/ ? But to receive bottles from all quarters ! I once knew a shop-keeper who got his name up as a cheap trader. He did indeed sell cheap ; wondrous cheap ; even heloii} first cost. He began to trade with little capital : sold goods for less than he gave ; and yet grew rich. Hov/ can this be ? The Prompter thinks it is very easy. That article which every body wants and knows the value of, fell very low ; even lower THE PROMPTER. 45 than first cost ; get your name up ; draw all the world to your shop : and then put double profit on other goods. It is very easy and very common ; the greatest block-head can do this and make a fortune. I Avas once traveling through a neigh- boring State, and inquiring for the best inns on the road, was directed to a noted one, whose owner had got his name up for the best entertainment. He had a large house well partitioned into small rooms for single lodgers. His stable was excellent ; but his cookery at his table was wretched, mean indeed ; I could eat no- thing. But every traveler would seek this noted inn; he would ride half the night and pass half a dozen better houses,to get to this noted inn ; in the fact the man had got his waw?e t/p and he might lie abed till noon. A young lady gets her name up for a beauty or a fortune ; all the world are sighing and dying for her. Wit, sense, accomplishments all distinguish her ; beaus hang round her, like flies round a cask of sugar ; suddenly she hag a fit of sickness ; the roses on her cheek decay. It is dis- covered she has no fortune ; her admirers draw off; she is a clever girl, but she is not so clever as I thought her. I once knew a very sensible woman who 46 THE PKOMTTEn. took a great fancy to names. One of her whims was that her daughters should marry names beginning with H. She could give no reason for her inclination but this ; she had known several of her neighbors who had married men with a name lieginning with H and they all made good husbands. They were not the greatest men, she said, but they were kind, good natured husbands and would suffer any thing rather than be offended. All the neighborhood were in love with the letter H; nothing would do for a husband, but this letter H, which some squeamish grammarians will have to be no letter. But the name of the letter was up. To conclude, a man by the name of Washington some time ago passed through the village where I live. This was soon known ; i>Ir. Washington ! What, a rela- tion of the President ? This indeed was not known ; but every body really thought he looked a little like the President. All. the world collected to get a peep at him as he passed the windows of his lodgings ; every body bowed as he passed. Every body looked and admired ! The man was indeed a very great scoundrel ; but he knew human nature ; he knew the name of Washington was ujo ; he assumed the THE PROMPTER. 47 name for traveling purposes;lhe President's real letters of recommendation could have procured more respect. When a man's name is up, he may lie abed till noon. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 16. What is every body^s business is no body^s. The consequence is, that every body and nobody are just the same thing ; a truth most pointedly exemplified in the kitchen of a southern Nabob. " Phil," says the mistress, Avith the air of an empress; Phil appears. " Go tell Peg to tell Sue to come along here and pick up a needle." " Yes ma'am," answers Phil, and waddles back like a duck. " Peg, mistress says you must tell Sue to go to her and pick up a needle." Peg carries the message to Sue, but Sue is busy cleaning a candlestick. •' Well," says Sue, " I will go as soon as I have done." The mistress wants the needle ; she can't go on with her work without the needle ; she waits ten or fif- 48 THE PROMPTER. teen minutes ; grows impatient ; " Phil, did you tell Peg what I told you ?" " Ye — s ma'am," says Phil drawling out her an- swer. " Well why don't the jade do what I told her ?" " Peg, come here you hussy, did you tell Sue what Phil told you?" " Yes ma'm." " Well, why don't the la- zy trollop come along : Here I am wait- ing for the needle ; tell the jade to come instantly." Risum tcneatis? Huld, my readers don't know Latin ; but can you help laughing, my friends ? Laugh then at the southern Nabob, with twenty fat slaves in his kitch- en. Laugh well at him ; for there is cause enough ; then come home and laugh. You want a good school perhaps; and Fo do your neighbors ; but whose business is it to find a teacher, a house, &c. " John I wish you would speak to William to ask Joseph to desire our friend Daniel to set about getting a good school. We want one very much ; it is a shame for us to be so negligent." This is thelast^ we hear of the good school. What is every- body's business is 7iGbo(7y's. Now in fact it is a very easy thing to pick up a needle ; but if one cannot stoop to pick it up, another ought to be jfttid for it. One servant that is paid for THB PKOMPTER. his work, will pick up more needles than twenty fat lounging slaves that think it a drudgery and get nothing for it. THE PROMPTER. NgMBER 17. When a man is going down hill, every one gives hi77i a kick. This, it is said, is very natural ; that is, it is very common. There are two rea- sons for this^. First, it is much easier to kick a man doion hill, than to push him tqi hill ; Second, men love to see every hody at the bottom of the hill but them- selves. Different men have diflerent ways of climbing into, rank and office. Some bold fellows take a run and mount at two or three strides. Others of less vigor use more art; they creep slyly along upon their bellies, catching hold of the clifts and twigs to pull themselves up; some- times they meet a high rock and are oblig- ed to craw] round it ; at other times they catch hold of a prominent cliflf or a little 4 50 THE PROMPTER. twig, which gives way and back they tum- ble, scratching their clothes and sometimes their skin. However it is, very few will lift their neighbors; unless to get a lift themselves. Yet sometimes one of these crawlers will lend a hand to their neigh- boring crawlers ; affect to pull hard to raise them all a little ; then getting upon their shoulders, give a leaf to an eminence, and leave them all in. the lurch, or kick them over'. The moment one begins to tumble, every one who is near hits him a kick. But no people get so many kicks as poor debtors in failing circumstances. While a man is doing very well, that is, while his credit is good, every one helps him ; the moment he is pressed for money, however honest and able he may be, he gets kicks from all quarters. His friends and his re- putation desert him with the loss of his purse, and he soon tumbles to the bottom of the hill. THE PROMPTER. 51 THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 18. ^* / told you so. What a wise man is this // He fore- sees all evils and tells when and how they will happen. He warns erery one of eve- ry misfortune that ever falls upon him : after the mischief is all done, he struts and says with a boasting superiority, / told you so, though perhaps he never said a word about it, until the thing happened. It is warm weather, a man buys a quar- ter of veal or mutton ; he deliberates whether he had better hang it up in the buttery or in the cellar ; he does not know whether the heat above stairs, or the damp air below, is most injurious to fresh meat ; finally he puts it in the buttery , his wife knows nothing of this ; but the next day the meat is spoiled ; the husband says, " My dear, the meat is spoiled." " Where was it put ?" says the good wo- man. " In the buttery." " Aye, / told you so," says the wife. " My dear," says the wife, one very pleasant day, not a cloud to be seen ; " I shall visit Mrs. Such a one to day ; will 52 THE PROMPTER. you come and drink tea and wait on me home ?" The husband pouts a little ; but the woman makes her visit ; in the after- noon a shower comes over, and the earth is covered with water ; in the evening the woman comes in, dripping with water; her husband meets her at the door, exult- ing, Jiye, I told you so, but you are always gossipping about. A young man in going to take a ride; it is fine weather, and he thinks it useless to take a great coat ; a shower comes upon him suddenly and he gets wet ; he comes home at evening and is met at the door with this consoling address, / told you so THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 19, *'Carpe diem." Horace. ' " Take time by tJie forelock." Plain English. There is a mighy difference between going before and behind ; between pulling THE PKOMPTER. 63 ftnd being pulled. He who takes time by the forelock goes before and helps the draft; but the man who does not, is like a horse tied to the tail end of a cart, pulling back with all his weight. Time is a sturdy beast, and steady to the draft ; he will drag along the heaviest slug- gard that snores and nods ; but what a fig- ure a man makes, tied by the head to Ap- pollo's chariot ! The drone awakes in the morning ; looks at the sun ; " O, it is only an hour high," down he lays his head. In summer the flies disturb him ; they light on his face and buz about his ears ; as much as to say get up, you lazy fellow. He brushes off the little busj' monitors, swears at them, covers his face, or darkens the room ; then sleeps in quiet. At length his bones ache; he shifts sides and tries hard to lie easy ; but all will not do'; by the middle of the forenoon, he is forced to leave his bed ; he ;'ises up on end (but how the middle of a man can be called an end, the Prompter submits to the consideration of learned word-mqRgers) he scratches his head ; he gapes ; after much ado, the man is up and dressed. He gets his breakfast, and then, has an hour or two for business before din- ner. The man is dragged along by time 54 THE PROMPTER. and his business drags heavily after him. Is he a merchant? Customers call before he is up, and go away as they come. One good bargain after another lost, while the man is snoring. Is he a mechanic ? His apprentices follow his example ; they doze away the morning ; or get up and loiter about. Work is not done or it is ill done and the man loses his custom. Is he a farmer ? while he is in bed, the sun warms the air, and dries the earth. He loses the benefit of plowing the earth with the dew on, or cutting the grass when it is moist and cuts easy. Some times his cattle break into a field of corn and destroy the crop, while the drone is rolling from side to side to ease his bones, or brushing off the flies which interrupt his sleep. i Is he a public officer ?. He is everlast- ingly hurried, so that he cannot do any business. " Call another time, call again," is his answer to every man who wants business done. " Do you want a paper or a copy," O, I can't attend to it now, you must call again." Such a man never takes time by the forelock. THE PROMPTER. 55 THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 20. She carries the bell. Our honest farmers, who turn their cat- tle and sheep into the woods, put a bell upon one of the stoutest of the herd, which is said to carry the bell ; and the rest of the flock usually follow their lead- er. So a lady of uncommon beauty or sprightliness is said to carry the hell. She is easily found and has a large herd in her train. This carrying the bell has a wonderful effect in procuring notice and admiration. It is like getting one's name up. The la- dy who arrives at the honor of carrying the hell, may do and say what she pleases with impunity. Like the bell weather in the woods, wherever she goes, even thro' swamps and rivers and briers, all the herd will stupidly follow. A lady who carries the bell will have a croud of flatterers about her ; every one is her most humble servant. One will court her a few weeks ; she will smile till t!ie man is half distracted ; then she will frown on him and smiJe on another. 66 THE PROMPTER. ' Sometimes she gives hopes that her heart and hand will be surrendered to her fond lover; then all at once, she can suit her- self better. She makes a dozen ninies dance attendance for years. Till at last s'ne loses her character and admirers at once, or gives her hand, with a worthless, fickle, proud, unfeeling heart, to some good man of great simplicity of intentions. Here we have a pretty couple yoked to- gether for life. But look ye, young bach- elors: a lady who carries the bell before marriage, always carries the fore end of the yoke after marriage. An officer who has long commanded a regiment, is not easily reduced to the ranks. Astonishing ! Can the Prompter wish a wife to be redu- ced to the ranks ; subdued, humbled, com- manded by her husband, like a soldier by his officers ! No, no, my dear good wo- man ; but will a captain lieutenant sub- mit to be second lieutenant ? Ah, there's the rub. How charming it is to carry the bell ! Every body who comes to town must call upon the lady who carries the bell ; Just call at least, so as to say, when he gets home, " I saw Miss , the bell of the town, and she looked and acted so and so." Every man who is going to Boston, to THE PROMPTER. 57 New-York, to Philadelphia, must call on Miss * ^ --, pay their respects and beg the favor to be permitted to carry a letter from her to her friend. If she does not want to write, she must write a line at least ; it is such an honor ; a happiness, for every bo- dy, to speak to her ; to speak of her ; and to carry a letter which she wrote. O the pleasures, the advantages and the vexations of carrying the bell ! THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 21. He is solving his toild oats. And a plentiful crop, they will produce. It is expected of a young man that he will sow all his wild oats, when young ; but the mischief is, that a man who begins life with sowing wild oats, seldom sows a better kind, in middle life and old age. Many a man has been ruined by an in- dulgent parent. He has a sprightly turn as it is called : he likes a good frolick ; he plays a good game ; he is not malicious in hv3 vices j in short his father says, he is 5S THE PROMPTER. only sowhig his wild oats ; he therefore does not restrain him or put him to busi- ness ; the young man makes free with gaming and the bottle ; at first he is mod- erate in his pleasures ; he does not get drunk nor break windows. After sowing wild oats a year or two, he loves it better than ever ; he gambles deeper ; he leaves his quarter of a dollar a corner for a dol- lar, and a dollar for an eagle. He drinks more, as his head bears it better ; he stays later at night : at length he knows no bounds ; he gets drunk : he oversets tables and chairs, and breaks windows and wine- glasses ; and this is sport ; fun up to the eyes; and if the poor landlord interferes to keep order, he has- broken glasses and bowls at his head ; he retreats ; and in the morning finds his house a scene of desola- tion, in short, the young blade has been sowing his wild otits. A heavy bill for broken tumblers, glasses and chairs follows the frolicks ; but what then ; must a man never have a frolick, a scrape, a riot ? What a poor pitiful mouse of a man is he that always keeps sober and stays at home; or sits simpering and whimpering with la- dies ! Can a mah of business or study be a gentleman, or a clever fellow ? The young buck sows his wild oats till THE PROMPTER. 69 he is a master of the business ; he does it with a grace ; a habit is formed; ah, then let him quit it, if he can. O habit ! thou / stickest to a man like his shadow or a guil- - ty conscience. ' " But reformed rakes make the best hus- bands." Upon the honor of the Prompter, it may be so ; but such an animal as a re- formed rake, is as rare as camels or lions in America. The sight of one would com- mand as good a price as that of the Orang Outang. The creature is like patriotism, much talked about and often praised but never seen. The man who is indulged freely in sow- ing his wild oats when young, generally sows them all his days. But suppose he does not ; where is the advantage of sow- ing them at all ? " None, will be the an- swer : but young folks all have follies they must get rid of." True, but in get- ting rid of /oZ/ies, look to them well, that they do not acquire vices. Habit sticks fast to a man, like his skin ; look to that, says the Prompter. 60 THE PROMPTER. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 22. He would have his own ivay. And no way is so good as ?Jime. The question is not whether this or that is the better way, but whether it is my way or your way. Orthodoxy is my doxy and he- terodoxy is your doxy. If a man is successful in an undertaking, every neighbor he has cries out, ah, I thought so ; that is my way. If unsuccess- ful, every one says, ah, I told him so, but he would have his own way. Said a very complying husband to his wife, " shall I put the winter apples into the east or west cellar." "Just which you please," said the wife ;"you know which is best." In the winter the apples froze and were spoiled ; the good lady found it out, and complained to her husband, " My dear, the apples are all froze and spoiled ; you put them into the wrong cellar ; but you would have your own way." " Susy," says a careful mother to her daughter, who is going to church, " it is cold; had you better wear a cloke?" ** Why, ma'am" says Susy, " I will do as THE PROMPTED 61 you please ; if you think it best I will wear one." " Well, I don't know, Susy, what to say ; people hardly ever catch cold by going to church. You may ven- ture to go without it, Susy." Susy goes t0 churcTi ; wets her feet and in two days is quite laid up with a cold. " Ah Susy" says the kind mother, " I spoke to you about wearing a cloak ; but you would have your own way." " Father," says John, " shall I go to mowing to day ?" " Why John," says the old gentleman, " wont it rain ? I should be sorry to have the grass cut, if it is going to rain." But John goes to mowing. Soon after, the clouds are dissipated and a fine clear day follows. "Ah John," says the father, " 1 am glad you went to mowing; for I thought we should have a good day, after such a-lowry morning." "Husband," said a pious lady "let us bring up our son to college and make a minister of him. We have but one, and I want him to preach." The son goes to college ; there he learns that some other professions are better calculat- ed to get money, than that of clergymen. He leaves college and studies law. The good lady's hopes are defeated, and in her vexation she declares she is sorry her son 62 THE PROMPTER. went to college. But, addressing herself to her husband, " you would have your own way." THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 23. If I was he. Ah ! what if you was ? Why I would do so and so. No, Sir, under the same cir- cumstances, you would do just like him or worse. " If I was a minister," says a well mea- ning parishioner, " and had as little to do as most ministers have, I would study my sermons better. I would not come into the pulpit, without a sermon and have to make one as I go along ; nor would I preach one of Blair's. " If I was a lawyer," says a farmer, " I should not have the face to ask three dol- lars for a few words of advice." But sup- pose sir, you had spent five hundred pounds in qualifying yourself to give that advice. " If I was Mr. Such a one I would not THE PROMPTER. 63 be plagued with law suits as he is. I am sure he might avoid it. '• Neighbor such a one has a large farm ; he owns a large stock of cattle ; but he lives wretchedly in his house. His wife is a drozzle, his tables and chairs are covered with grease. If I was he, I would put things into better order, or Pd know the reason why." Alas, poor man, wait till you have a slut for a housekeeper, and then change your tone. " If I was a shopkeeper, I would not meanly undersell my neighbors, nor would I give credit. I am sure I should not be gi-iiiy of the dirty business of dealing out gills of rum to every low lived fellow." " If I was such a one," says a young man, "I would not marry such a lady for depend on it, she will be a Xantippe, If I ivas he, I am sure I could not love her." " If I was a married man," says an old bachelor " I would govern my children, or I'd know the reason why. There is neigh- bor such a one who suffers his children to do all manner of mischief, and if a word of reproof is uttered, the little fellows laugh in his teeth." Bachelors'children are al- ways well governed. fA THE PROMPTER. What a pity, that since the world is so bad, this Mr. /, who is so wise and benev- olent, cannot turn into every body and cor- rect every body's vices and follies ; then change from every body into / a^ain and correct I's own vices and follies. THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 24. M stitch in time saves nine. Not merely in stockings ; it holds in every article of business. A woman wants to use a dish, a spoon, a pail, a tumbler, or something else. When she has done for that time, she does not clean it, for she will put it up dirty and wait till she has a number of articles to clean. By and by every thing is dirty and half a day must be devoted to washing and scrubbing ; whereas, had every thing been cleaned at first separately, it would only have filled up little vacancies of time which would not otherwise have been em- ployed;the time never wouldhave been per- ceived. Every thing that is left dirty, tends THE PROMPTER. 66 lo sour something about it; a few dirty articles in the closet, make it necessary to clean and scrub the whole, as often again as would otherwise be necessary. A stitch in time saves nine. A man sees a post of his fence falling; one post commands but little attention ; the fence will answer for this summer. The next spring the frost heaves the land, and loosens half a dozen posts near it, and the weight of the leaning fence pulls it down, and half a dozen lengths with it. A clap-board gets loose, or a shingle upon his house. One clap-board off can do no great injury, says the man ; he neg- lects it; But rain and snow get in unper- ceived ; and in a year or two twenty clap- boards are rotten and fall off by wholesale. " Ah, says the man, this has been neglect- ed too long. All this might have been saved with a few minutes trouble." True, but it is too late to shut the door, when the horse is stolen. A stitch in time saves nine. :--- A lawyer or a public officer has papers to be filed. One after another is handed in, and he throws them into his desk, waiting for a large number, and then he will arrange them in order. Before he is ready, somebody calls and wants to look at 5 66 THE PROMPTER, a paper; the man tumbles over the papers an hour or two, and after all can't find it ; but he will file them soon, and then he will be ready to show any paper whatever. Pray, call again, is all the man gets for calling. But in no article does a stitch in time save so much as in government. One public officer neglects his duty a little ; another cheats a little ; but these pecca- dillo's are overlooked ; the mischief is not great ; the j'^ublic does not feel it ; and individuals will not inform, for they will make some scoundrel their enemy. At last a thousand little evils swell into a great public one, the public is cheated, betrayed, abused ; but where's the rem- edy ? THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 25. He has come out at the little end of the horn. When a man thrives and swells large, h« cornea out at the big end of the horu THE PROMPTER 67 of course ; but when he pines away in poverty, he may very well slip through the little end. A young man often has eyes bigger than his belly. He lays out great plans; which he has feeble means and S7nall talents io accomplish. He begins a hundred things which he does not tinish ; he plants his seed so thick, that the growth of the whole crop is checked, and it produces nothing in perfection. In a short time his means are totally exhausted and he comes out at the little end of the horn. A man begins trade upon credit ; as soon as he gets money into his hands, he begins to spend it ; he builds a large house; he buys horses and carriages, makes en- tertainment?, drinks rich wines and wears expensive clothing ; in a few months, he creeps out of the horn at the little end. He runs away or looks through the grates. A young man with a good trade, or a small farm designs to live easier than by work. He begins to trade in horses, in- digo, pins and combs. He goes two hun- dred miles, with his saddle-bags loaded with commodities ; he barters them away for horses ; he leads home three or four horses ; he makes a small advance on each, it is true ; but he forgets to estimate €8 THE PROMPTER. among profits and losses, the constant ex- penses of himself and horses, the uncom- mon wear and tear of clothes, horse equip- age and the accidents to which horses are liable, and the uncertainty of market, be- fore the horses have eaten out half their value. The fourpenny grogs and three penny horse baitings are overlooked ; he pursues the business, till he is sued ; he wonders why he does not make money. At last he is jockied out of the little estate he had ; he is out at the little end of the horn. By the way, a word to horse jock- ies : the buyer of horses who stays at home and waits for horses to be brought to him for market, buys them to advan- tage. But the buyer who goes after them, and courts the sale of horses, buys them at a disadvantage. It makes an immense difference, to have the proposal come from the seller, rather than the purchaser. When a farmer runs to the merchant for goods, telling him, " Sir, I want some of your goods, but cannot pay you till fall." I expect to see him peep out at the little end of the horn. He takes up goods, per- haps rum, on credit, and intends to pay for them with his corn, his beef and his pork. But suppose a drouth or a blast cuts off his corn, and his grass is short ; tlien he THE PROMPT 1:R. 69 has none to spare, and he cannot fatten his hogs and his cattle. Poor man, he has consumed the merchant's goods and they are not paid for. Then a suit is brought for the money ; officers' fees increase the sum ; the man borrows money on interest to pay the execution, or parts with a horse or a cow at half price ; in a short time his land must go at this rate ; he slips out at the little end of the horn, and runs to the Ohio or the Gennessee. But no men go out at the little end of the horn sso easily as the tavern-haunter and the grog-drinker. A fat young heir, just come in possession of his estate, mounts his horse, with his pocket full of guineas, and rides full tilt to the tavern. He worships Bacchus twenty years, night and day. He takes his cheerful glass of wine at first, with very good company. He scorn to drink grog and toddy, with the rabble. He once in a while gets tumbled under the table in a high gale but in gen- eral goes home sober and clean. By and by the smell of grog becomes agreeable ; he begins to take a nip i;ov/ and then ; his relish improves by little and little till he never steps into a tavern with- out calling for a glass of rum and water. When this is the case, his situation is des- 70 THE PROMPTER. perale. To be in character, he must love dirty women ; he must sneak about into kitchens aud by places, into barns and back chambers, in search of his filthy game. In a few years, he becomes a sot, a nasty debauchee ; his clothes are torn and stain- ed with liquor and spotted with grease, his body bent down with intemperance ; his gouty feet swathed in flannel, his hands trembling, his bloated nose of crimson hue, and his knees tottering beneath his feeble emaciated carcase. A man wants to be popular ; he knows he has but small talents and no great in- tegrity ; but he can smile and flatter and look sweet at every body, whether knave, fool or honest man. He plays off his arts for some years, till the mob cry out, he is a clever man, h-e is 71c t proud. They then begin to lift him ; make him selectman, moderator of town meetings, tavern keep- er, constable, justice of the peace, colonel of a regiment, representative in the assem- bly, &c. He is aiming at the Senate, or at Congress, or at the chair of the chief magistrate. He expects to pop in at the next election ; he doubles his smiles; but even fools discover his arts and his mean- ness; they neglect him ; one young man after another goes over his head ; ho frets THE PROMPTER. 71 and wriggles a while, but his hobby-horse cannot carry him a step further. He gives over the pursuit ; and sits down quiet in obscurity ; he is out at the little end of the hirn. It is laughable to see the admirers of quacks, mountebanks and jugglers, sneak out at the little end of the horn. Dr. Sil- verhead has just come to town ; he cures all disorders ; he never yet failed ; he has a medicine at a quarter of a dollar which is infallible ; he can turn unguentum, diacu- lum, and every sort of drug into silver or gold ; he changes quicksilver into dollars in half a minute ; he will cure all diseases but death, and make us rich by the great ; he is generous and benevolent, beyond de- scription he will take no reward, but as many presents as fools will give ; all the world go out after the quack ; he thrives upon their ignorance and credulity for a short time ; he draws the last nine-pence from the purses of his poor deluded fol- lowers ; he then takes a journey on busi- ness of magnitude; and leaves them in the lurch ; they are all out at the little end of the horti. Miss Smart is not a lady of fortune, but her father is a good liver ; he has a good estate and has given his children a good 72 THE PROMPTER. education. Miss Smart gets above her school-mates, dresses well and has the vis- its and notice of good company. She is addressed by a young man of no fortune, but of good education and character. " But she will not marry him ; not she. She must have a man of higher standing than all that." One good offer after another is rejected. She does not know how to choose a man that will he rich and respect- able ; but she or any body else can know when a man is called rich. Every body wonders why Miss Smart cannot suit her- self out of so many admirers. She is growing old ; five and twenty already ; and has not found the man to her mind. Still she is nice ; she has not seen any bo- dy she can love ; and it is better to live single, than to marry the man one cannot fancy; [by the way, /a^icy, she supposes, will be a standing dish to ieedi upon thro' life ; but a word to the wise ; fancy is froth, mere froth ; a little family breeze blows it away and it is gone.] Miss Smart is almost thirty and has seen nobody to suit her. Her admirers are gone ; her friends are sorry she is difficult ; her ene- mies jnty her and rejoice. At five and ihirty,Miss Smart marries a widower with seven children, and this is the last we THE PROMPTER. 73 hear of her v/hima and her prospects. Sh« creeps through the little end of the horn. A mechanic begins business with pom- pous promises; he will work very reason- ably indeed, and his work shall exceed ev- ery thing of the kind. He gives his work a fine polish, a good gloss, and sends it out to satisfy his engagements and gratify public expectation. In a few days, one article breaks ; then another and a third ; this is the man with fine speeches and promises ; his credit is soon gone ; he is out at the little end of the horn, The merchant is determined to get rich very fast ; he imports rum ; high proof; it will bare reducing ; he reduces it ; he sells it for good West-India rum ; it is carted into the country ; and lo ! it is on- ly strong grog. The purchaser curses the rum and the seller of it together ; the mer- chant loses his credit and his custom ; gets the name of a jockey ; a cheat ; and people will go to others for their rum ; even to other towns, for one dirty trick gives a whole town a bad name. A man small enough to barter away his character and that of his neighbors, for a few gallons of rum will easily slip through the little end of the horn. Another set of men who most readily 74 THE PItOMPTEB. slip through the small end of the horn, ar« fat plump speculating doctors, tailors, car- penters, hucksters and butchers. " Bless me," says the tailor, " six per Cents above par, bank scripts at 180 dollars ! Every l)ody is making a fortune ; it must be so ; for what else makes the paper so high and every body bewitched after it ?" This is the beginning and end of his calculation ; he throws down his goose ; hurries to the exchange or the brokers, and buys stock ; and to make sure of a fortune, cuts deep ; 50 shares in the bank at 180 or 240 dollars for 25 ! A fortune ; a fortune ; His head is so full of good fortune, that he cannot sleep for a night or two. Even his wife runs distracted at the thoughts of a for- tune ! In four days time, stock falls two, three, five hundred per cent. ; it subsides to that natural level, from which a hund- red men of his fortune cannot stir it. Alas the man is ruined in making a fortune ! He creeps through the little end of the horn ; but there is one comfort for him ; he is as well off as his neighbors. Half the town is taken in as well as himself. JV^e sutor ultra crepidani, tailor stick to your goose^^ ' * Alluding to speculations in slockB at the tim« Ibe debts of the United States were funded. TBB PaOMI^TIBK. 79 THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 26. Stolen waters are sweet. Aye, and stolen cherries too, though as green as an olive ! But why does stealing a thing make it sweet ? Here I am puzzled. Perhaps, because it hits the taste the bet- ter. What a pure taste must that be, which can relish green cherries, sour half grown apples and pears, and green water- melons, as tough and insipid as a squash. J3ut stealing is done in the dark ; it is a sly trick ; and how clever it is to be sly .' yes, and it's noble, heroic and manly too I But stop : let us think a moment. Hero- ism in the dark ! in. private! alone! Ama- zing heroism indeed, when people are fast asleep, and not a puppy awake to resist you, to creep slily and softly into a garden or an orchard, and pick a few cherries or pears, or trample on a few harmless mel- on vines! How noble and nianly it is to sneak away from a neighbor's garden, with !i whole handful of stolen fruit! Alexan- der himself might envy the glory of such heroic dirty tricks ! But who doof it ? the boys, the boyi. 76 THE PROMPTER. Yes, longlegged boys of fifteen, twenty, five and twenty years old. Little boys are usually put to bed by nine o'clock. No, no ; these heroic fellows are boys indeed, but boys of size. Sturdy fellows, these that put on their beaver hats and muslin cravats on Sunday, and must be called ge7i- tlemen. But hark, ye gentlemen orchard- robbers and cherry-stealers, would ye like to be caught stealing sheep or robbing a hen-roost? Oh no. But pray, where is the difference, between stealing sheep, and stealing fruit that a man labors several years to rear. I'll tell you, the sheep-stealer, is if possible, the less mean and criminal of the two. If a man has a sheep stolen, he can buy another as good : but if he loses choice fruit, he cannot replace it at least for a year. The fruit-stealer therefore does more injury than the sheep-stealer ; and I think the laws of the state will very soon put both on a level, in the peniten- tiary. Fine gentlemen indeed you will be, when making nails ; noble fellows at the anvil ! THE PBOMPTER. 77 THE PROMPTER. NUMBER 27. Tell me a story. Nothing delights the child like a story ; a familar tale that he understands. Mamma, pray tell me a story, says the child, looking at the mother with spark- ling eyes. What shall I tell you ? Shall I tell you the story of Jack the Giant- Killer ? O, no ; tell me Goosy, Goosy Gan- der, where shall I wander. The story is told. Now tell me another ; tell me a great many stories — I love to hear stories. Do not smile at the little child. Great children love to hear stories, as well as lit- tle children. The princess, the duchess, the baron, the dandy, the mother, and the grandmother, the professor and the pupil, all love to read stories. Two hundred dollars offered for the best story ! Our cus- tomers want stories — new stories. O, for a Scott to tell us a story. What shall we do Cor stories ?