"
At last came the day of graduation. Dudley led the class. There was a
great crowd of fine people. The last speech of all on the programme was
"Honest Work Honorable--Dudley Crawford." With a characteristic manliness
he stood up bravely for work. So fine were his arguments, so undaunted
his bearing, that the audience were carried away. Dr. Parmlee took off
his spectacles to wipe his eyes. Dudley's mother could not conceal her
pleasure. "Franklin's hands had printers' ink on them," he said, "but
they were shaken by princes and savans--the lightning did not despise
them. Garibaldi's fingers were soiled with candle-grease, but they have
moulded a free nation. Stephenson's fingers were black with coal, and
soiled with machine oil of a fireman's work, but they pointed out
highways to commerce and revolutionized civilization. There are those"
(Whittaker and his set looked crestfallen here) "who will gladly take the
hand of worthless loafers, or of genteel villains" (here certain ladies
looked down), "but who would not have dared shake hands with Franklin,
the printer, with Garibaldi, the tallow-chandler, with Stephenson, the
stoker. But before God and right-thinking men there are no soiled hands
but guilty hands or idle ones.
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