His horse edged over and began eating grass.
“There,” said Mr. Zadok Biggs, “is a lesson for you, my friends. Take it to heart. Learn from dumb creatures, learn from nature, learn from man, learn from books, learn everywhere and anywhere. The lesson my horse teaches at this moment is: Neglect no opportunity. You observe he eats. He might well have stood in the sand without eating, but, behold! the opportunity to eat presents itself, and without hesitation he avails himself of it. Bear this in mind—never overlook opportunity.”
“We’re around here lookin’ for opportunities, but there don’t any seem to show up,” I says. And Mark scowled at me to keep still.
“Don’t be discouraged. I don’t know what kind of an opportunity you want, but, whatever it may be, it will come. It always does. Everything has got an opportunity tied to its tail like a tin can, and if you keep on listening you’ll hear it jangling.”
I could see that idea pleased Mark, and he began to look more cheerful.
“What did you say your names were?” asked Mr. Biggs. “Not Wilkins, I hope, nor Sauer, nor yet Perkins. I can’t abide those names, so give me warning if any of them are yours and I’ll be going on. I can’t have anything to do with a man if he has one of those names.”
“Mine’s Martin,” I told him, “and that’s Marcus Aurelius Fortunatus Tidd, and that over there is Sammy—just Sammy.”
“Very good, very good, indeed, especially our friend here to the right. His parents have displayed marked aptitude for naming children. His name is an achievement, a mark of genius. I should like to grasp the hand of the parent who gave you that name.”
“It was my father,” says Mark. “He got it out of the Decline and F-f-fall of the Roman Empire.”
“Excellent! You have made me your friend for life. Bear it in mind. I, Zadok Biggs, am your friend for life. Your name did it; I shall treasure it in my memory. It stands at the top of the list—the very top.”