An Author saw a Labourer hammering
stones into the pavement of a street, and approaching
him said:
“My friend, you seem weary.
Ambition is a hard taskmaster.”
“I’m working for Mr. Jones,
sir,” the Labourer replied.
“Well, cheer up,” the
Author resumed; “fame comes at the most unexpected
times. To-day you are poor, obscure, and disheartened,
and to-morrow the world may be ringing with your
name.”
“What are you giving me?”
the Labourer said. “Cannot an honest
pavior perform his work in peace, and get his money
for it, and his living by it, without others talking
rot about ambition and hopes of fame?”
“Cannot an honest writer?” said the Author.
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