You are "one of the boys" now. I was, fifty years since. A long time ago, that; but I've lived long enough to see and know that I was a great fool then. You'll come to that, if you don't run to seed before. I see now that what I then thought was smartness, was mere smoke; and it was a great deal of smoke with the smallest quantity of fire. The people I thought amounted to nothing, and whom I symbolized with a cipher, were merely reflections of my own small, addled brain. I, too, thought the old man slow, _passé_, stupid. I took him for a muff. He must have known I was twice that. What does one of the boys at nineteen care for advice? _I_ didn't--_you_ don't. It went in at the right ear and out over the left shoulder. Old gent said he'd been there; I said I was going. I did go. So did his money. My talent--if that's what you call it--was centrifugal, not centripetal. I was a radical out-and-outer, as to funds. I made lots of friends--you should have seen them. They swarmed-- when there was any thing in my pocket. They left me alone in solitude at other times. At twenty-nine I got pretty well along in life. But I find I did not know so much as at nineteen. I had seen something of the world, and also something of myself. The more I saw and studied the latter individual, the less I thought of him. I began sincerely to believe he was a humbug. At thirty-nine, I knew he was; or rather had been. By that time he had begun to mend--had he? He had married, and there was call for mending, equally as to ways, means, and garments. From that hour I cultivated in different fields. My wild oats were all _raked_ in. I was getting away from nineteen very rapidly--happily receding from the boy of _that_ period. Mrs. BROWNGREEN beheld a man devoted to domestics and the dailies. The clubs I left behind me--twice a week. I was at home early--in the morning. I kept careful watch of my goings and comings--so did my curious neighbors. I had my family around me--also sheriffs and trades-people. I stood tolerably well in the community; for I was straight in those times even when in straits. But there was one stand I never did like to take--anywhere in sight of my tailors. They were ungrateful. I _gave_ them any amount of patronage, and they turned on me and wanted me to pay for it. That's the way of the world. It wants much, and it wants it long; and when its bills come in, it is found to be the latter dimensions with an emphasis.