Page:Cyclopedia of illustrations for public speakers, containing facts, incidents, stories, experiences, anecdotes, selections, etc., for illustrative purposes, with cross-references; (IA cyclopediaofillu00scotrich).pdf/89

 What a price to pay for a foolish act! All acts of carelessness are not followed by such serious consequences, but there is always an element of risk in doing the wrong thing.

In how many lives has the fire of sin been kindled by some deed of folly in early life, and it still smolders in the soul, cursing the man's whole being.—Onward.

(319)

CAREERS CONTRASTED

In the year 1877 two young men stood up with the rest of their class at Bowdoin University to receive diplomas. One was called Bob, the other was called Charlie. They were Maine boys, both of them, and of about the same age. Within the last few weeks those two boys, now grown into grizzled men in the early fifties, have been conspicuous in the news of the day.

One of them, Bob, went in for fame, and after devoting the best years of his life to wrestling with arctic storms, throwing dice with death, enduring the very limits of privation and hardship, more than once glad to chew tanned leather or bite into rancid blubber, he emerged the other day with a story of discovery which thrilled the whole world, and will send his name, Robert E. Peary, sounding down the ages to the end of time.

The other boy, Charlie, went in for fortune. He had already developed the knack of the money-maker, and he did not tie up his talent in a napkin. He sold candy. He sold ice. He sold lumber. He acquired banks and trust companies and juggled stocks and bonds until he amassed a fortune of twenty millions. Then something happened. On the day after New-year's day of this year (1910), his money gone, his reputation destroyed, his liberty lost, he took the 10:43 train on the Southern Limited, escorted by a United States marshal and two deputies, on the way to the Federal prison at Atlanta, Ga., to which he had been sentenced for a term of fifteen years. Every legal device to save him had been tried, and had failed, and Charles Wyman Morse has now become convict Number 2814—that is all.—Current Literature.

(320)

CARGOES THAT WRECK

Every ship has a cargo, or if no cargo it is seeking for cargo. Some cargoes are safe and some dangerous. In olden time they used to load grain in bulk, which was dangerous, for if the grain shifted in a storm it was apt to throw the ship on her beam ends. Cotton is a dangerous cargo, and many steamship lines advertise, "These ships carry no cotton." Some years ago, an evil-minded man tried to ship an infernal machine on one of the steamers of a transatlantic line. His intention was that the clockwork in the machine should go off while the ship was in mid-ocean, and blow her to pieces. Fortunately, the clockwork went off while the infernal machine was on the dock. It blew off the stern of the steamer and killed thirteen men. Surely that would have been a dangerous cargo to carry.

Just so every man carries a cargo. By this I mean a cargo of opinions, passions, appetites, and these are sure to wreck any young man who carries them.—, The Christian Herald.

(321)

CASTE

Dr. Pauline Root, of India, gives this example of the tenacity of the Hindus to their rules of caste:

The Brahman custom which prescribes for every man and woman the ceremonial bath every day also prescribes that during any illness the bath shall be omitted. A woman who is ill is banished to a little room and left to take care of herself unless a hired person is sent to be her nurse. I had under my care a young girl of high caste who was ill with an illness which had already carried off the mother and two sisters. The father was ready to make almost any concessions to me if I would only come and save his daughter's life. I insisted that she be brought out into one of the main rooms of the home, and that she be given a cot to sleep upon. When she grew better she wanted me with her most of the time to sit beside her and hold her hand. I really thought she was succumbing before love. Finally, I told her that she was convalescent enough to have her ceremonial bath. The next morning her father met me with a munificent gift. I saw the girl arrayed in her beautiful dresses, but a great distance had been put between us, and when I held out my hand she refused it, saying, "Please don't touch me; I have taken my bath."

(322)

Catalepsy—See.

Catching Souls—See