？　He　〃pussyfooted〃　it　along　so　carefully。　He　bumped　his　hand　against　a　seat。　Then　he　did　what　every　blind　man　does；　he　lifted　his　hand　higher　and　didn't　bump　any　more　seats。
  I　looked　down　my　nose。　〃Ralph　Parlette；〃　I　said　to　myself；　〃when　are　you　going　to　learn　to　see　as　well　as　that　blind　man？　He　learns　his　lesson　with　one　bump；　and　you　have　to　go　bumping　into　the　same　things　day　after　day　and　wonder　why　you　have　so　much　‘bad　luck'！〃
  Are　You　Going　Up　or　Down？
  Let　me　repeat；　things　that　go　downward　will　run　themselves。　Things　that　go　upward　have　to　be　pushed。　Going　upward　is　overcoming。　Notice　that　churches；　schools；　lyceums；　chautauquas；　reform　movementsthings　that　go　upwardnever　run　themselves。　They　must　be　pushed　all　the　time。
  And　so　with　our　own　lives。　Real　living　is　conscious　effort　to　go　upward　to　larger　life。
  If　you　are　making　no　effort　in　your　life；　if　you　are　moving　in　the　line　of　least　resistance；　depend　upon　it　you　are　going　downward。　Look　out　for　the　bumps！
  Look　over　your　community。　Note　the　handful　of　brave；　faithful；　unselfish　souls　who　are　carrying　the　community　burdens　and　pushing　upward。　Note　the　multitude　making　little　or　no　effort；　and　even　getting　in　the　way　of　the　pushers。
  Majorities　do　not　rule。　Majorities　never　have　ruled。　It　is　the　brave　minority　of　thinking；　self…sacrificing　people　that　decides　the　tomorrow　of　communities　that　go　upward。　Majorities　are　not　willing　to　make　the　effort　to　rule　themselves。　They　are　content　to　drift　and　be　amused　and　follow　false　gods　that　promise　something　for　nothing。　They　must　be　ledsometimes　drivenby　minorities。
  People　are　like　sheep。　The　shepherd　can　lead　them　to　heavenor　to　hell。
  Bumping　the　Prodigals
  Human　life　is　the　story　of　the　Prodigal　Son。　We　look　over　the　fence　of　goodness　into　the　mystery　of　the　great　unknown　world　beyond　and　in　that　unknown　realm　we　fondly　imagine　is　happiness。
  Down　the　great　white　way　of　the　world　go　the　million　prodigals；　seeking　happiness　where　nobody　ever　found　happiness。　Their　days　fill　up　with　disappointment；　their　vision　becomes　dulled。　They　become　anaemic　feeding　upon　the　husks。
  They　just　must　get　their　coffee…pot！
  How　they　must　be　bumped　to　think　upon　their　ways。　Every　time　we　do　wrong　we　get　a　Needless　Knock。　Every　time！　We　may　not　always　get　bumped　on　the　outside；　but　we　always　get　bumped　on　the　inside。　A　bump　on　the　conscience　is　worse　than　a　bump　on　the　〃noodle。〃
  〃I　can　do　wrong　and　not　get　bumped。　I　have　no　feelings　upon　the　subject；〃　somebody　says；　You　can？　You　poor　old　sinner；　you　have　bumped　your　conscience　numb。　That　is　why　you　have　no　feelings　on　the　subject。　You　have　pounded　your　soul　into　a　jelly。　You　don't　know　how　badly　you　are　hurt。
  How　the　old　devil　works　day　and　night　to　keep　people　amused　and　doped　so　that　they　will　not　think　upon　their　ways！　How　he　keeps　the　music　and　the　dazzle　going　so　they　will　not　see　they　are　bumping　themselves！
  Consider　the　Sticky　Flypaper
  Did　you　ever　watch　a　fly　get　his　Needless　Knocks　on　the　sticky　flypaper？
  The　last　thing　Mamma　Fly　said　as　Johnny　went　off　to　the　city　was；　〃Remember；　son；　to　stay　away　from　the　sticky　flypaper。　That　is　where　your　poor　dear　father　was　lost。〃　And　Johnny　Fly　remembers　for　several　minutes。　But　when　he　sees　all　the　smart　young　flies　of　his　set　go　over　to　the　flypaper；　he　goes　over；　too。　He　gazes　down　at　his　face　in　the　stickiness。　〃Ah！　how　pretty　I　am！　This　sticky　flypaper　shows　me　up　better　than　anything　at　home。　What　a　fine　place　to　skate。　Just　see　how　close　I　can　fly　over　it　and　not　get　stuck　a　bit。　Mother　is　such　a　silly　old　worryer。　She　means　all　right；　of　course；　but　she　isn't　up…to…date。　We　young　set　of　modern　flies　are　naturally　bright　and　have　so　many　more　advantages。　You　can't　catch　us。　They　were　too　strict　with　me　back　home。〃
  You　see　Johnny　fly　back　and　forth　and　have　the　time　of　his　naturally　bright　young　life。　Afterwhile；　tho；　he　stubs　his　toe　and　lands　in　the　stickiness。　〃Well；　well；　how　nice　this　is　on　the　feet；　so　soft　and　soothing！〃
  First　he　puts　one　foot　down　and　pulls　it　out。　That　is　a　lot　of　fun。　It　shows　he　is　not　a　prisoner。　He　is　a　strong…minded　fly。　He　can　quit　it　or　play　in　it；　just　as　he　pleases。　After　while　he　puts　two　feet　down　in　the　stickiness。　It　is　harder　to　pull　them　out。　Then　he　puts　three　down　and　puts　down　a　few　more　trying　to　pull　them　out。
  〃Really；〃　says　Johnny　Fly　bowing　to　his　comrades　also　stuck　around　him；　〃really；　boys；　you'll　have　to　excuse　me　now。　Good…bye！〃　But　he　doesn't　pull　loose。　He　feels　tired　and　he　sits　down　in　the　sticky　flypaper。　It　is　a　fine　place　to　stick　around。　All　his　young　set　of　flies　are　around　him。　He　does　like　the　company。　They　all　feel　the　same　waythey　can　play　in　the　sticky　flypaper　or　let　it　alone；　just　as　they　please；　for　they　are　strong…minded　flies。　They　have　another　drink　and　sing；　〃We　won't　go　home　till　morning。〃
  Johnny　may　get　home；　but　he　will　leave　a　wing　or　a　leg。　　Most　of　them　stay。　They　just　settle　down　into　the　stickiness　with　sleeping　sickness。
  The　tuition　in　The　College　of　Needless　Knocks　is　very　high　indeed！
  〃Removed〃　or　〃Knocked　Out〃？
  The　man　who　goes　to　jail　ought　to　congratulate　himself　if　he　is　guilty。　It　is　the　man　who　does　not　get　discovered　who　is　to　be　pitied；　for　he　must　get　some　more　knocks。
  The　world　loves　to　write　resolutions　of　respect。　How　often　we　write；　〃Whereas；　it　has　pleased　an　all…wise　Providence　to　remove；〃　when　we　might　reasonably　ask　whether　the　victim　was　〃removed〃　or　merely　〃knocked　out。〃
  There　is　a　good　deal　of　suicide　charged　up　to　Providence。
  Chapter　III
  The　College　of　Needful　Knocks
  The　Bumps　That　Bump　Into　Us
  BUT　occasionally　all　of　us　get　bumps　that　we　do　not　bump　into。　They　bump　into　us。　They　are　the　guideboard　knocks　that　point　us　to　the　higher　pathway。
  You　were　bumped　yesterday　or　years　ago。　Maybe　the　wound　has　not　yet　healed。　Maybe　you　think　it　never　will　heal。　You　wondered　why　you　were　bumped。　Some　of　you　in　this　audience　are　just　now　wondering　why。
  You　were　doing　rightdoing　just　the　best　you　knew　howand　yet　some　blow　came　crushing　upon　you　and　gave　you　cruel　pain。
  It　broke　your　heart。　You　have　had　your　heart　broken。　I　have　had　my　heart　broken　more　times　than　I　care　to　talk　about　now。　Your　home　was　darkened；　your　plans　were　wrecked；　you　thought　you　had　nothing　more　to　live　for。
  I　am　like　you。　I　have　had　more　trouble　than　anybody　else。　I　have　never　known　anyone　who　had　not　had　more　trouble　than　anyone　else。
  But　I　am　discovering　that　life　only　gets　good　after　we　have　been　killed　a　few　times。　Each　death　is　a　larger　birth。
  We　all　must　learn；　if　we　have　not　already　learned；　that　these　blows　are　lessons　in　The　College　of　Needful　Knocks。　They　point　upward　to　a　higher　path　than　we　have　been　traveling。
  In　other　words；　we　are　raw　material。　You　know　what　raw　material　ismaterial　that　needs　more　Needful　Knocks　to　make　it　more　useful　and　valuable。
  The　clothing　we　wear；　the　food　we　eat；　the　house　we　live　in；　all　have　to　have　the　Needful　Knocks　to　become　useful。　And　so　does　humanity　need　the　same　preparation　for　greater　usefulness。
  I　should　like　to　know　every　person　in　this　audience。　But　the　ones　I　should　most　appreciate　knowing　are　the　ones　who　have　known　the　most　of　these　knockswho　have　faced　the　great　crises　of　life　and　have　been　tried　in　the　crucibles　of　affliction。　For　I　am　learning　that　these　lives　are　the　gold　tried　in　the　fire。
  The　Sorrows　of　the　Piano
  See　the　piano　on　this　stage？　Good　evening；　Mr。　Piano。　I　am　glad　to　see　you。　You　are　so　shiny；　beautiful；　valuable　and　full　of　music；　if　properly　treated。
  Do　you　know　how　you　got　upon　this　stage；　Mr。　Piano？　You　were　bumped　here。　This　is　no　reflection　upon　the　janitor。　You　became　a　piano　by　the　Needful　Knocks。
  I　can　see　you　back　in　your　callow　beginnings；　when　you　were　just　a　treea　tall；　green　tree。　You　were　green！　Only　green　things　grow。　Did　you　get　the　meaning　of　that；　children？　I　hope　you　are　green。
  There　you　stood　in　the　forest；　a　perfectly　good；　green　young　tree。　You　got　your　lessons；　combed　your　hair；　went　to　Sunday　school　and　were　the　best　young　tree　you　could　be。
  That　is　why　you　were　bumpedbecause　you　were　good！　There　came　a　man　into　the　woods　with　an　ax；　and　he　looked　for　the　best　trees　there　to　bump。　He　bumped　youhit　you　with　the　ax！　How　it　hurt　you！　And　how　unjust　it　was！　He　kept　on　hitting　you。　〃The　operation　was　just　terrible。〃　Finally　you　fell；　crushed；　broken；　bleeding。
  It　is　a　very　sad　story。　They　took　you　all　bumped　and　bleeding　to　the　sawmill　and　they　bumped　and　ripped　you　more。　They　cut　you　in　pieces　and　hammered　you　day　by　day。
  They　did　not　bump　the　little；　crooked；　dissipated；　cigaret…stunted　trees。　They　were　not　worth　bumping。
  But　shake；　Mr。　Piano。　That　is　why　you　are　on　this　stage。　You　were　bumped　here。　All　the　beauty；　harmony　and　value　were　bumped　into　you。
  The　Sufferings　of　the　Red　Mud
  One　day　I　was　up　the　Missabe　road　about　a　hundred　miles　north　of　Duluth；　Minnesota；　and　came　to　a　hole　in　the　ground。　It　was　a　big　holeabout　a　half…mile　of　hole。　There　were　steam…shovels　at　work　throwing　out　of　that　hole　what　I　thought　was　red　mud。
  〃Kind　sir；　why　are　they　throwing　that　red　mud　out　of　that　h