And these few precepts in
thy memory
See thou character—Give
thy thoughts no tongue,
Nor any unproportioned thought
his act.
Be thou familiar, but by no
means vulgar.
The friends thou hast, and
their adoption tried,
Grapple them to thy soul with
hoops of steel;
But do not dull thy palm with
entertainment
Of each new-hatch’d,
unfledged comrade. Beware
Of entrance to a quarrel:
but, being in,
Bear’t that the opposed
may beware of thee.
Give every man thine ear,
but few thy voice:
Take each man’s censure,
but reserve thy judgment.
Costly thy habit as thy purse
can buy,
But not express’d in
fancy; rich, not gaudy:
For the apparel oft proclaims
the man;
And they in France of the
best rank and station
Are of a most select and generous
sheaf in that.
Neither a borrower nor a lender
be;
For loan oft loses both itself
and friend,
And borrowing dulls the edge
of husbandry,
This above all—to
thine ownself be true;
And it must follow, as the
night the day,
Thou canst not then be false
to any man.
[Illustration: “Wedlock in Time”—The Fairbanks’ Family]
The time has come to close this little book. It has been a great pleasure to write it and a greater pleasure to hope that it will be received in the same spirit it has been written. These are busy days for all of us. We go in a gallop most of the time, but there comes the quiet hour when we must sit still and “take stock.” I know this from the letters that come to me asking my opinion on all sorts of subjects. People believe I am happy because my laughing pictures seem to denote this fact—and it is a fact! In the foregoing chapters I have told why. If, in the telling I shall have been instrumental in adding to the world’s store of happiness I shall ever thank my “lucky stars.”
Very Sincerely
Douglas Fairbanks
A “CLOSE-UP” OF DOUGLAS FAIRBANKS
by George Creel
Reprinted from Everybody’s Magazine by Permission of The Ridgway Company, New York.
CHAPTER XX
A “CLOSE-UP” OF DOUGLAS FAIRBANKS
Young Mr. Douglas Fairbanks, star alike in both the “speakies” and the “movies,” is well worth a story. He is what every American might be, ought to be, and frequently is not. More than any other that comes to mind, he is possessed of the indomitable optimism that gives purpose, “punch,” and color to any life, no matter what the odds.
He holds the world’s record for the standing broad grin. There isn’t a minute of the day that fails to find him glad that he’s alive. Nobody ever saw him with a “grouch,” or suffering from an attack of the “blues.” Nobody ever heard him mention “hard luck” in connection with one of his failures. The worse the breaks of the game, the gloomier the outlook, the wider his grin. He has made cheerfulness a habit, and it has paid him in courage, in bubbling energy, and buoyant resolve.