Page:The cry for justice - an anthology of the literature of social protest. - (IA cryforjusticea00sinc).pdf/511

 Seeä'd her todaäy goä by—Saäint's daäy—they was ringing the bells. She's a beauty thou thinks—an' soä is scoors o' gells, Them as 'as munny an' all—wot's a beauty?—the flower as blaws. But proputty, proputty sticks, an' proputty, proputty graws.

Doänt't be stunt: taäke time: I knaws what maäkes tha sa mad. Warn't I craäzed fur the lasses mysén when I wur a lad? But I knaw'd a Quaäker feller as often 'as towd ma this: "Doän't thou marry for munny, but goä wheer munny is!"

Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

(American capitalist, born 1839)

Then, and indeed for many years after, it seemed as though there was no end to the money needed to carry on and develop the business. As our successes began to come, I seldom put my head upon the pillow at night without speaking a few words to myself in this wise:

"Now a little success, soon you will fall down, soon you will be overthrown. Because you have got a start, you think you are quite a merchant; look out, or you will lose your head—go steady." These intimate conversations with myself, I am sure, had a great influence on my life.