...If You Ask Me, I'll Answer You

Q — I am a young man of twenty. Desires surge in my soul that the village cannot fulfill, and my soul does not answer to working in the heart of the earth; so I left my village to seek my way in the capital, which I had fancied an abundant watering place for rising youth. But all my hopes were shattered by life. Here the keys to employment are ruled by connections; ability stumbles before bolted doors; energy loiters on the heels of promises and waiting; and the ardor of youth, inclined toward life, is snuffed out.
A. R.

A — No doubt you have met a number of your peers, sons of the village, whose imagination tickled them with the pleasantness and abundance of jobs, so that they flocked to the capital, driven by the longing for easy gain, without noting the difficulty of attaining it and without a hint of the fetters that restrict a man's freedom in word and deed — and that, upon my life, is a silent servitude, however long one goes on living. As for you, since you have left your village, go back to it; in the earth are treasures that reveal themselves to the working arms of youth. Live free of every fetter — a prince, not a subordinate; free, not a hireling; head high, dignity intact. As the popular proverb has it:
'A farmer sufficed is a sultan concealed.'

Q — What selfishness is this, and what recklessness... The radio is turned up to its loudest, as though in listening to it and keeping it to themselves they had some claim that lets them overlook the rights of others. The thing has worn out my patience and vexed me, despite my attempts to make them understand that this does harm to others — among them the sick and the weary. What am I to do with them, when my words have gone for nothing?
S. K.

A — It is regrettable indeed that a person should fail to understand the duty of considering others in his conduct, whether at home or outside it. This, upon my life, is one of our social ills, and a campaign ought to be waged in the cause of that social refinement of which we stand in need; for a person is bound, of necessity, by mutual duties among the people of his circle and his neighbors, and he must not accept for others any harm he would not accept for himself. If man measured all his conduct by this sensible measure, the standing of the community would move toward a higher plane. As for you, to attain this just aim of yours there is nothing for it but repetition, and repetition again, until this recklessness is curbed and the matter set right.

Q — In an hour when the cup of my recurring troubles overflowed, I rebelled against my toilsome life and pictured in my mind one of two courses: either to submit to this misery, or to leave the house, leaving behind my husband and my child. Folly got the upper hand: I left my house and went down into the field of work, content with my living despite the toil and trouble in it — until I was told of my child's illness, and the feeling of motherhood flooded my heart, and I came to see it as binding upon me to return to my deserted house and to join with my husband in carrying the burdens of the responsibilities that had massed against him.

Is there in my return a humiliation that my husband will allow himself for the sake of gloating?!

A — Your return to your house is an absolute duty... and in it is a victory for the good spirit of humanity, and a reviving dew for the bond of marriage and motherhood in which you are blessed.

As for your husband, his silence over your foolish conduct is a virtue that adorns him. There is no doubt he will meet this gesture of yours with satisfaction; and your helping him to bear the burden of life, as reality requires, is an acknowledgment of the right that is yours and the duty that is upon you: to carry responsibility as wife and mother.

★

Q — I had almost forsworn travel by automobile because of the severe dizziness that seizes me and denies me the pleasure of enjoying the scenes I see. On one of my journeys yesterday a fellow passenger came to my aid with a tablet of some medicine; I took it and it gave an excellent result. I have tried in vain to call back to memory the name of the medicine, and failed. Can you help me?

Sh. M.

A — There are many people whom travel distresses. The traveler's first duty, to avoid dizziness, is to prepare the stomach with a light meal, and then, a quarter of an hour before setting out, to take a tablet of Dramamine.

I believe that is the medicine you mean.