Rose Wilder Lane, “Quarrels of the Proverbs,” San Francisco Bulletin, February 12, 1915.
Have you heard about the Proverb family?
They quarrel dreadfully.
Here they have been leading us about by the ears ever since we were innocent and confiding babes.
“Let dogs delight to bark and bite for ’tis THEIR nature to,” one of those Proverbs used to say to us, sternly, whenever we pulled sister’s hair.
And one of the most popular of them is ALWAYS saying:
“Practice what you preach,” you know.
So of course we always supposed THE PROVERBS were quite perfect, because they acted so superior to us.
But now they are “talking back” at each other.
Really, there are some DREADFUL disagreements among these Proverbs.
“Oh, what a tangled web we weave, when first we practice to deceive.” Says one of the oldest of them with a very smug expression, I must admit.
“But practice makes perfect.” Says one of the younger ones, sweetly. The younger generation is SO disrespectful!
“And if at FIRST you don’t succeed, try, try again,” chirps an impatient little one, and makes a face around the corner of the door before he runs away.
“I did not mean that at all,” the first Proverb says, angrily.
And adds, sternly, “Children should be seen and not heard.”
Whereupon the demure little Proverb sitting in the corner with her hands crossed look up innocently and says:
“Out of the mouth of babes cometh wisdom.”
I really should dislike to tell, my dear, what the Proverb family says then.
But they are constantly contradicting each other flatly.
“A rolling stone gathers no moss,” one of them-the one with the long gray beard-says pretentiously.
“A setting hen never grows fat,” one of the others will retort immediately, in the meanest way.
“An honest man is the noblest work of God,” meekly says the tall thin one in the black coat with his long then hair combed straight back. There is nothing generous about the Proverb, you know he means himself the minute he says it.
“Honesty is the best policy,” immediately puts in the short, fat one with the watch chain and the plaid suit. And he says it with a very nasty emphasis on “policy.”
Oh, they are a hateful family-the Proverbs!
Always trying to do others good.
No wonder we hate to hear them spoken.
Mrs. A.J. Wilder, “When Proverbs Get Together,” Missouri Ruralist, September 5, 1918.
It had been a busy day and I was very tired, when just as I was dropping off to sleep I remembered that bit of mending I should have done for the man of the place. Then I must have dreamed, for in my fancy, I saw that rent in the garment enlarge and stretch into startlingly large proportions.
At the same time a familiar voice sounded in my ear, “A stitch in time saves nine,” it said.
I felt very discouraged indeed at the size of the task before me and very much annoyed that my neglect should have caused it to increase to nine times its original size, when on the other side of me a cheerful voice insinuated, “It is never too late to mend.”
Ah! There was that dear old friend of my grandmother who used to encourage her to work until all hours of the night to keep the family clothes in order. I felt impelled to begin at once to mend that lengthened rent, but paused as a voice came to me from a dark corner saying, “A chain is no stronger than its weakest link.”
“Shall a man put new wine into old bottles,” chimed in another. Of course not, I thought, then why put new cloth—.But now the voices seemed to come from all about me. They appeared to be disputing and quarreling, or at least disagreeing among themselves.
“Oh what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive,” said a smug, oily voice.
“But practice makes perfect,” piped a younger voice, sweetly tho with an impudent expression.
“And if at first you don’t succeed, try, try again,” chirped a small voice with a snicker and it seemed to me that the room was filled with soft laughter.
Evidently thinking that something should be done to put the younger folks in their place, a proverb with a very stern voice spoke from a far corner. “Children should be seen and not heard,” he said and a demure little voice at once answered, “Out of the mouth of babes cometh wisdom.”
This was really growing interesting. I had not realized that there were so many wise proverbs and that they might fall out among themselves.
Now a couple of voices made themselves heard, evidently continuing a discussion.
“A rolling stone gathers no moss,” said a rather disagreeable voice and I caught a shadowy glimpse of a hoary old proverb with a long, gray beard.
“But a setting hen never grows fat,” retorted his companion in a sprightly tone.“An honest man is the noblest work of God,” came a high, nasal voice with a self righteous undertone.
“Ah, yes! Honesty is the best policy, you know,” came the answer in a brisk business-like tone, just a little cutting.
“A fool and his money are soon parted,” said a thin, tight-lipped voice with a puckering quality I felt sure would draw the purse strings tight.
“Oh, well, money is the root of all evil, why not be rid of it?” answered a jolly, rollicking voice with a hint of laughter in it.
But now there seemed to be danger of a really violent altercation for I heard the words “sowing wild oats,” spoken in a cold, sneering tone, while an angry voice retorted hotly, “There is no fool like an old fool,” and an admonitory voice added, “It is never too late to mend.” Ah! Grandmother’s old friend with a different meaning in the words.
Then at my very elbow spoken for my benefit alone, I heard again the words, “It is never too late to mend.” Again I had a glimpse of that neglected garment with the rent in it grown to unbelievable size. Must I? At this time of night! But a soft voice whispered in my ear, “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof,” and with a smile at grandmother’s friend, I drifted into a dreamless sleep.
