Remember, my son, you have to work. Whether you handle a pick or a pen, a wheel-barrow or a set of books, digging ditches or editing a paper, ringing an auction bell or writing funny things, you must work. If you look around you will see the men who are the most able to live the rest of their days without work are the men who work the hardest. Don't be afraid of killing yourself with overwork. It is beyond your power to do that on the sunny side of thirty. They die sometimes, but it is because they quit work at six in the evening, and do not go home until two in the morning. It’s the interval that kills, my son. The work gives you an appetite for your meals; it lends solidity to your slumbers, it gives you a perfect and grateful appreciation of a holiday.
There are young men who do not work, but the world is not proud of them. It does not know their names, even it simply speaks of them as “old So-and-So’s boy”. Nobody likes them; the great, busy world doesn’t know that they are there. So find out what you want to be and do, and take off your coat and make a dust in the world. The busier you are, the less harm you will be apt to get into, the sweeter will be your sleep, the brighter and happier your holidays, and the better satisfied will the world be with you.
有的年轻人不工作，但世界并不会因他们自豪。它不知道他们的姓名，甚至简单地将他们概括为“老令人讨厌者的男孩 ” 。没有人喜欢他们;伟大，繁忙的世界不知道他们在那里。因此，找出哪些你想成为和做的，脱下你的外衣，把粉尘抛在世界上。越是繁忙的你越是少受伤害，甜蜜将成为您的睡眠，光明和幸福着您的假期，更好地满足你的意志世界。