He had come to tell Bibbs about Mary's letter, and
to his own angry astonishment he found it impossible to do anything
except to scold like a drudge-driver. "You better come down there
with your mind made up to hustle harder than the hardest workin'-man
that's under you, or you'll not get on very good with me, I tell you!
The way to get ahead--and you better set it down in your books--the
way to get ahead is to do ten times the work of the hardest worker
that works FOR you. But you don't know what work is, yet. All
you've ever done was just stand around and feed a machine a child
could handle, and then come home and take a bath and go callin'.
I tell you you're up against a mighty different proposition now,
and if you're worth your salt--and you never showed any signs of it
yet--not any signs that stuck out enough to bang somebody on the head
and make 'em sit up and take notice--well, I want to say, right here
and now--and you better listen, because I want to say just what I DO
say. I say--"
He meandered to a full stop. His mouth hung open, and his mind was
a hopeless blank.
Bibbs looked up patiently--an old, old look. "Yes, father; I'm
listening.
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