to its feet again as this animal. It has no
hands to push with and nothing against which to brace its feet, and one
would think that a turtle once upside down would be upside down for ever.
But put on its back, it keeps on scrabbling till it is right side up. We
would like to pick up this animal from the dust and put it down on
Broadway, if men passing by would learn from it never to stop exertion,
even when overthrown. You cannot by commercial disasters be more thoroughly
flat on your back than five minutes ago was this poor thing; but see it
yonder nimbly making for the bushes. Vanderbilt or Jay Gould may treat you
as we did the tortoise a few moments ago. But do not lie still,
discouraged. Make an effort to get up. Throw your feet out, first in one
direction and then in another. Scrabble!

We find from this day's roadside observation that the turtle uses its head
before it does its feet: in other words, it looks around before it moves.
You never catch a turtle doing anything without previous careful
inspection. We would, all of us, do better if we always looked before we
leaped. It is easier to get into trouble than to get out. Better have goods
weighed before we buy them. Better know where a road comes out before we
start on it. We caught one hundred flies in our sitting-room yesterday
because they sacrificed all their caution to a love of molasses. Better use
your brain before you do your hands and feet. Before starting, the turtle
always sticks its head out of its shell.

But tortoises die. They sometimes last two hundred years. We read that one
of them outlived seven bishops. They have a quiet life and no wear and tear
upon their nervous system. Yet they, after a while, notwithstanding all
their glow travel, reach the end of their journey. For the last time they
draw their head inside their shell and shut out the world for ever. But
notwithstanding the useful thoughts they suggest while living, they are of
still more worth when dead. We fashion their bodies into soup and their
carapace into combs for the hair, and tinged drops for the ear, and
bracelets for the wrist. One of Delmonico's soup tureens is waiting for the
hero we celebrate, and Tiffany for his eight plates of bone. Will we be as
useful after we are dead? Some men are thrown aside like a turtle-shell
crushed by a cart-wheel; but others, by deeds done or words spoken, are
useful long after they quit life, their example an encouragement, their
memory a