In my humble position I could now appreciate the
philosophy and the true greatness of the Sagewoman's beautiful lessons
of unselfishness. I felt that I was just beginning to get strong-strong
in the grandest attribute a human being can possess-moral courage. The
great Sagewoman's teachings on forbearance were beginning to take root
in my nature. I was learning to understand that I must work and feel for
others, regardless of my own selfish desires.
One day, while I was busily engaged in my daily toil, my attention
became attracted to a big, fashionably dressed man, standing on the
sidewalk near by, calmly smoking a high-priced cigar. He was apparently
about thirty years of age, six feet tall, and weighed over two hundred
pounds. He was beastly in appearance, and looked as if he considered his
own selfish wants as the only things in the world worth attention. He
probably had never done an honest day's labor in his life. A ragged old
man, about sixty years of age, who apparently had given his whole life
to productive toil, but now feeble and half-starved in appearance,
approached and appealed to him for a few cents with which to buy
something to eat. The big fellow roughly told him to go along and not
bother him, and the old man, not doing as he was ordered, the young man
deliberately swung his fist and struck the poor beggar between the eyes,
knocking him senseless to the pavement. For a moment I was dumbfounded
by this exhibition of brutality, and then instantly every drop of blood
in my body was set boiling at the sight.
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