s money even then he cannot know the best
things of life.

A young man in our college yonder asked me to formulate for him what
I thought was the happiest hour in a man's history, and I studied it
long and came back convinced that the happiest hour that any man ever
sees in any earthly matter is when a young man takes his bride over
the threshold of the door, for the first time, of the house he himself
has earned and built, when he turns to his bride and with an eloquence
greater than any language of mine, he sayeth to his wife, "My loved
one, I earned this home myself; I earned it all. It is all mine, and
I divide it with thee." That is the grandest moment a human heart may
ever see. But a rich man's son cannot know that. He goes into a finer
mansion, it may be, but he is obliged to go through the house and say,
"Mother gave me this, mother gave me that, my mother gave me that,
my mother gave me that," until his wife wishes she had married his
mother. Oh, I pity a rich man's son. I do. Until he gets so far along
in his dudeism that he gets his arms up like that and can't get them
down. Didn't you ever see any of them astray at Atlantic City? I saw
one of these scarecrows once and I never tire thinking about it. I was
at Niagara Falls lecturing, and after the lecture I went to the hotel,
and when I went up to the desk there stood there a millionaire's son
from New York. He was an indescribable specimen of anthropologic
potency. He carried a gold-headed cane under his arm--more in its head
than he had in his. I do not believe I could describe the young man if
I should try. But still I must say that he wore an eye-glass he could
not see through; patent leather shoes he could not walk in, and pants
he could not sit down in--dressed like a grasshopper! Well, this human
cricket came up to the clerk's desk just as I came in. He adjusted his
unseeing eye-glass in this wise and lisped to the clerk, because it's
"Hinglish, you know," to lisp: "Thir, thir, will you have the kindness
to fuhnish me with thome papah and thome envelopehs!" The clerk
measured that man quick, and he pulled out a drawer and took some
envelopes and paper and cast them across the counter and turned away
to his books. You should have seen that specimen of humanity when the
paper and envelopes came across the counter--he whose wants had always
been anticipated by servants. He adjusted his unseeing eye-glass and
he yelled after that clerk: "Come back here th