ʱ�䣺2022-12-08 08:19:06 ����ѧϰ ��ҫͷ��
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����antique shops exert a peculiar fascination on a great many people. the more expensive kind of antique shop where rare objects are beautifully displayed in glass cases to keep them free from dust is usually a forbidding place. but no one has to muster up courage to enter a less pretentious antique shop. there is always hope that in its labyrinth of musty, dark, disordered rooms a real rarity will be found amongst the piles of assorted junk that litter the floors.


����no one discovers a rarity by chance. a truly dedicated bargain hunter must have patience, and above all, the ability to recognize the worth of something when he sees it. to do this, he must be at least as knowledgeable as the dealer. like a scientist bent on making a discovery, he must cherish the hope that one day he will be amply rewarded.

����my old friend, frank holliday, is just such a person. he has often described to me how he picked up a masterpiece for a mere��50. one saturday morning, frank visited an antique shop in my neighborhood. as he had never been there before, he found a great deal to interest him. the morning passed rapidly and frank was about to leave when he noticed a large packing-case lying on the floor. the dealer told him that it had just come in, but that he could not be bothered to open it. frank begged him to do so and the dealer reluctantly prised it open. the contents were disappointing. apart from an interesting-looking carved dagger, the box was full of crockery, much of it broken. frank gently lifted the crockery out of the box and suddenly noticed a miniature painting at the bottom of the packing-case. as its composition and line reminded him of an italian painting he knew well, he decided to buy it. glancing at it briefly, the dealer told him that it was worth��50. frank could hardly conceal his excitement, for he knew that he had made a real discovery. the tiny painting proved to be an unknown masterpiece by correggio and was worth hundreds of thousands of pounds.


����it has been said that everyone lives by selling something. in the light of this statement, teachers live by selling knowledge, philosophers by selling wisdom and priests by selling spiritual comfort. though it may be possible to measure the value of material good in terms of money, it is extremely difficult to estimate the true value of the services which people perform for us. there are times when we would willingly give everything we possess to save our lives, yet we might grudge paying a surgeon a high fee for offering us precisely this service. the conditions of society are such that skills have to be paid for in the same way that goods are paid for at a shop. everyone has something to sell.

����tramps seem to be the only exception to this general rule. beggars almost sell themselves as human beings to arouse the pity of passers-by. but real tramps are not beggars. they have nothing to sell and require nothing from others. in seeking independence, they do not sacrifice their human dignity. a tramp may ask you for money, but he will never ask you to feel sorry for him. he has deliberately chosen to lead the life he leads and is fully aware of the consequences. he may never be sure where the next meal is coming from, but he is free from the thousands of anxieties which afflict other people. his few material possessions make it possible for him to move from place to place with ease. by having to sleep in the open, he gets far closer to the world of nature than most of us ever do. he may hunt, beg, or steal occasionally to keep himself alive; he may even, in times of real need, do a little work; but he will never sacrifice his freedom. we often speak of tramps with contempt and put them in the same class as beggars, but how many of us can honestly say that we have not felt a little envious of their simple way of life and their freedom from care?



����puppies for sale���۵�с��

����a farmer had some puppies he needed to sell. he painted a sign advertising the pups and set about nailing it to a post on the edge of his yard. as he was driving the last nail into the post, he felt a tug on his overalls. he looked down into the eyes of a little boy.


����"mister," he said, "i want to buy one of your puppies."


����"well," said the farmer, as he rubbed the sweat off the back of his neck, "these puppies come from fine parents and cost a good deal of money."


����the boy dropped his head for a moment. then reaching deep into his pocket, he pulled out a handful of change and held it up to the farmer. "i've got thirty-nine cents. is that enough to take a look?"


����"sure," said the farmer.


����and with that he let out a whistle, "here, dolly!" he called.


����out from the doghouse and down the ramp ran dolly followed by four little balls of fur. the little boy pressed his face against the chain link fence. his eyes danced with delight.


����as the dogs made their way to the fence, the little boy noticed something else stirring inside the doghouse. slowly another little ball appeared; this one noticeably smaller. down the ramp it slid. then in a somewhat awkward manner the little pup began 1)hobbling toward the others, doing its best to catch up��.


����"i want that one," the little boy said, pointing to the runt.


����the farmer knelt down at the boy's side and said, "son, you don't want that puppy. he will never be able to run and play with you like these other dogs would."


����with that the little boy stepped back from the fence, reached down, and began rolling up one leg of his trousers. in doing so he revealed a steel brace running down both sides of his leg attaching itself to a specially made shoe. looking back up at the farmer, he said, "you see sir, i don't run too well myself, and he will need someone who understands.".


����the world is full of people who need someone who understands



����the touchstone


����when the great library of alexandria burned, the story goes, one book was saved. but it was not a valuable book; and so a poor man, who could read a little, bought it for a few coppers.


����the book wasn't very interesting, but between its pages there was something very interesting indeed. it was a thin strip of vellum on which was written the secret of the "touchstone"!


����the touchstone was a small pebble that could turn any common metal into pure gold. the writing explained that it was lying among thousands and thousands of other pebbles that looked exactly like it. but the secret was this: the real stone would feel warm, while ordinary pebbles are cold.


����so the man sold his few belongings, bought some simple supplies, camped on the seashore, and began testing pebbles.


����he knew that if he picked up ordinary pebbles and threw them down again because they were cold, he might pick up the same pebble hundreds of times. so, when he felt one that was cold, he threw it into the sea. he spent a whole day doing this but none of them was the touchstone. yet he went on and on this way. pick up a pebble. �c cold. - throw it into the sea. �c pick up another. �c cold. �c throw it into the sea.the days stretched into weeks and the weeks into months.


����one day, however, about mid-afternoon, he picked up a pebble and it was warm. he threw it into the sea before he realized what he had done. he had formed such a strong habit of throwing each pebble into the sea that when the one he wanted came along, he still threw it away.


����so it is with opportunity. unless we are vigilant, it's easy to fail to recognize an opportunity when it is in hand and it's just as easy to throw it away.



����building your house �����լ��ķ���

����an elderly carpenter was ready to retire.he told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house-building business to live a more leisurel life with his wife and enjoy his extended family.he would miss the paycheck each week ,but he wanted to retire.they could get by.


����the contractor was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor.the carpenter said yes,but over time it was easy to see that his heart was not materials.it was an unfortunate way to end a dedicated career.


����when the carpenter finished his work ,his employer came to inspect the house.then he handed the front-door key to the carpenter and said,"this is your house...my gift to you."

����the carpenter was shocked!


����what a shame!if he had only known he was building his own house,he would have done it all so differently.


����so it is with us .we build our lives, a day at a time,often putting less than our best into the building.then, with a shock;we realize we have to live in the house we have built.if we could do it over,we would do it much differently.


����but, you cannot go back.you are the carpenter,and everyday you hammer a nail,place a board ,or erect a wall,someone once said,"life is a do-it-yourself project."your attitude and the choices you made today,help build the "house"you will live in tomorrow.therefore,build wisely!