“So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times. We may make these times better， if we bestir ourselves. Industry need not wish， as Poor Richard says， and he that lives upon hope will die fasting. There are no gains without pains； then help hands， for I have no lands， or if I have， they are smartly taxed. And， as Poor Richard likewise observes， he that hath a trade hath an estate； and he that hath a calling， hath an office of profit and honor； but then the trade must be worked at， and the calling well followed， or neither the estate nor the office will enable us to pay our taxes. If we are industrious， we shall never starve； for， as Poor Richard says， at the workingman’s house hunger looks in， but dares not enter. Nor will the bailiff or the constable enter， for industry pays debts， while despair increaseth them， says Poor Richard. What though you have found no treasure， nor has any rich relation left you a legacy， diligence is the mother of good luck， as Poor Richard says， and God gives all things to industry. Then plow deep， while sluggards sleep， and you shall have corn to sell and to keep， says Poor Dick. Work while it is called today， for you know not how much you may be hindered tomorrow， which makes Poor Richard says， one today is worth two tomorrows， and farther， have you somewhat to do tomorrow， do it today. If you were a servant， would you not be ashamed that a good master should catch you idle？ Are you then your own master， be ashamed to catch yourself idle， as Poor Dick says. When there is so much to be done for yourself， your family， your country and your gracious king， be up by peep of day； let not the sun look down and say， inglorious here he lies. Handle your tools without mittens； remember that the cat in gloves catches no mice， as Poor Richard says.’Tis true there is much to be done， and perhaps you are weakhanded， but stick to it steadily； and you will see great effects， for constant dropping wears away stones， and by diligence and patience the mouse ate in two the cable； and little strokes fell great oaks， as Poor Richard says in his Almanack， the year I cannot just now remember.”