one of the best things in our life is when a young man has earned his own living, and when he becomes engaged to some lovely young woman, and makes up his mind to have a home of his own. then with that same love comes also that divine inspiration toward better things, and he begins to save his money. he begins to leave off his bad habits and put money in the bank. when he has a few hundred dollars he goes out in the suburbs to look for a home. he goes to the savings-bank, perhaps, for half of the value, and then goes for his wife, and when he takes his bride over the threshold of that door for the first time he says in words of eloquence my voice can never touch: “ i have earned this home myself. it is all mine, and i divide with thee.” that is the grandest moment a human heart may ever know.
but a rich man’s son can never know that. he takes his bride into a finer mansion, it may be, but he is obliged to go all the way through it and say to his wife, “my mother gave me that, my mother gave me that, and my mother gave me this,” until his wife wishes she had married his mother. i pity the ri
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