"Toward noon, or one o'clock, he must go out, and asks himself: Where shall I go to-day? Shall I go to Madame So-and-so? No, she is at the waters. I will go to Mr. So-and-so. By the way, he is in the country; and then—he yawns.
"For something better to do, he seeks the promenade, where he meets a friend of his own stamp. They shake the tips of each other's fingers, not to hurt their hands, touch the brims of their hats, and then together, one more than the other,—they yawn.
"He next takes a chair, adjusts his feet on the bars, places himself at his ease, thinks of nothing, looks vacantly into the air, or bites the head of his cane, and then—he yawns.
"In the evening he goes to the theatre, extends himself at full length in his box, gazes around him, listens, and then—he yawns.
"He returns home very late. He is quite worn out and needs sleep, and ends the day as he began it—he yawns.
"Not so the laborer: he rises early, goes to his work betimes, and he sings or whistles.
"The breakfast-hour arrives. He loses no time in examining which dish he will partake of, for there is only one. He does not yawn over it, but eats with a good appetite, and in the same cheery mood he passes the remainder of the day.
"My friends, don't be discontented with your lot. Don't say:—'If I were rich I would take my ease; for work is a blessing. Don't envy the rich, but be thankful for what God has given you. The honest and industrious workman, who has a good heart, and loves virtue, is the spoilt child of Providence."