“That is not a great difference either,” the boy replied, “for they both do eat. Tell me the big difference.”
“I do not know it, my son; but I have always thought there was a big difference. Perhaps it is that an old man has memories of things which a boy cannot even guess at.”
“But they both have memories,” said the boy, laughing, “and so it is not a big difference.”
“That is true,” said the Philosopher. “Maybe there is not so much difference after all. Tell me things you do, and we will see if I can do them also.”
“But I don’t know what I do,” he replied.
“You must know the things you do,” said the Philosopher, “but you may not understand how to put them in order. The great trouble about any kind of examination is to know where to begin, but there are always two places in everything with which we can commence—they are the beginning and the end. From either of these points a view may be had which comprehends the entire period. So we will begin with the things you did this morning.”
“I am satisfied with that,” said the boy.
The Philosopher then continued:
“When you awakened this morning and went out of the house what was the first thing you did?”
The boy thought “I went out, then I picked up a stone and threw it into the field as far as I could.”