“Of what good is time or money, body or brain, if we do not know how to use any of them?” he would say.
“What will become of good health if we do not take care of it?
“Of what good is study-time or play-time unless we get the most we can out of it?
“Or of what worth is life itself if we waste it?”
But the townspeople would not listen to him now. Young Mr. Spendthrift had come to town and they followed him. They only laughed at Father Thrift.
“Poor, queer old man!” they said. “He must be out of his head.”
And they began to spend money foolishly, and to waste their time and their health as well as their money.
How it grieved the queer little old man to see things go so!
Day after day he would sit with his head in his hands, thinking, thinking, thinking. (He liked to think even better than most people like to eat.)