Richard Saunders.
CHAPTER XXXV.
"When poverty comes in at the door," said a shrewd observer, "love flies out at the window." When foolish families, "wasting their substance in riotous living," have fairly run their estates through the girt, and brought a host of hungry sheriffs and constables to the door, seizing on all their trumpery of fine carpets and curtains, and side-boards, and looking-glasses for auction, oh what sudden palpitations and blank looks ensue! what bitter upbraidings between husbands and wives, parents and children! what lyings, and perjuries, and secret transfers of property to cheat creditors! with universal wreck of character, and conscience, and every thing else that can give dignity or pleasure to life!
But while Franklin, by his famous Almanack "poor Richard," was generously striving to prevent all these curses of sloth and extravagance, his wide spread newspapers were scattering thousands of the finest lectures on that honest industry and prudence, which makes nations wealthy and glorious. And his lecturing, like one born to be the moralist of nations, was in that style of brevity, sprightliness, and nerve, that young and old, men, women, and children were never tired of reading. And to give more value to these beautiful little essays, they were always written under the smarting recollection of what himself had suffered, from the follies which he wished to guard others against. Witness first, his celebrated little story, entitled
THE WHISTLE.
A TRUE STORY.
WRITTEN TO HIS NEPHEW.
When I was a child, about seven years old, my friends, on a holiday, filled my pocket with coppers. I went directly to a shop, where they sold toys for children, and being charmed with the sound of a whistle, that I met by the way, in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered him all my money for it. I then came home, and went whistling all over the house, much pleased with my whistle, but disturbing all the family. My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, understanding the bargain I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was worth. This put me in mind what good things I might have bought with the rest of my money; and they laughed at me so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation; and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave me pleasure.
This, however, was afterwards of use to me. The impression continued on my mind; so that, often, when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, I said to myself, don't give too much for the whistle; and so I saved my money.
As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions of men, I thought I met with many, very many who gave too much for the whistle.