ADDRESS TO THE REDDING (CONN.) LIBRARY ASSOCIATION, OCTOBER 28, 1908
Suppose this library had been in operation a few weeks ago, and the burglars who happened along and broke into my house—taking a lot of things they didn’t need, and for that matter which I didn’t need—had first made entry into this institution.
Picture them seated here on the floor, poring by the light of their dark-lanterns over some of the books they found, and thus absorbing moral truths and getting a moral uplift. The whole course of their lives would have been changed. As it was, they kept straight on in their immoral way and were sent to jail.
For all we know, they may next be sent to Congress.
And, speaking of burglars, let us not speak of them too harshly. Now, I have known so many burglars—not exactly known, but so many of them have come near me in my various dwelling-places, that I am disposed to allow them credit for whatever good qualities they possess.
Chief among these, and, indeed, the only one I just now think of, is their great care while doing business to avoid disturbing people’s sleep.
Noiseless as they may be while at work, however, the effect of their visitation is to murder sleep later on.
Now we are prepared for these visitors. All sorts of alarm devices have been put in the house, and the ground for half a mile around it has been electrified. The burglar who steps within this danger zone will set loose a bedlam of sounds, and spring into readiness for action our elaborate system of defences. As for the fate of the trespasser, do not seek to know that. He will never be heard of more.
All books are sourced from Project Gutenberg