We shall get to be ashamed to go about without socks on our feet, but cease to feel shame at the sight of their ball dresses. We shall have no compunction in throwing overboard our ancient manners, nor any in emulating their lack of courtesy. We shall leave off wearing our achgans because they are susceptible of improvement, but think nothing of surrendering our heads to their hats though no head gear could well be uglier.
In short, consciously or unconsciously, we shall have to cut our lives down to the measure of the clapping of their hands.
Wherefore I apostrophise myself and say: O Earthen Pot! For goodness' sake get away from the Metal Pot! Whether he comes for you in anger, or merely to give you a patronising pat on the back, you are done for, and go down, all the same. So pay heed to old Æsop's sage counsel, I pray,—and keep your distance.
Let the metal pot ornament wealthy homes, you have your work to do in those of the poor. If you let yourself be broken, you will have no place in either, but merely return to the dust; or at best you may secure a corner in a bric-a-brac cabinet,—as a curiosity. It is more glorious by far to be borne to fetch water by the meanest of village women.
