戴爾·卡耐基/Dale Carnegie
Within a minute's walk of my house there was a wild stretch of virgin timber, where the blackberry thickets foamed white in the springtime, where the squirrels nested and reared their young, and the horseweeds grew as tall as a horse's head. This unspoiled woodland was called Forest Park—and it was a forest, probably not much different in appearance from what it was when Columbus discovered America. I frequently walked in this park with Rex, my little Boston bulldog. He was a friendly, harmless little hound; and since we rarely met anyone in the park, I took Rex along without a leash or a muzzle.
One day we encountered a mounted policeman in the park, a policeman itching to show his authority.
"What do you mean by letting that dog run loose in the park without a muzzle and leash?" he reprimanded me. " Don't you know it' s against the law?"
"Yes, I know it is," I replied softy, "but I didn't think he would do any harm out here."
"You didn't think! You didn't think! The law doesn't give a tinker's damn about what you think. That dog might kill a squirrel or bite a child. Now, I'm going to let you off this time; but if I catch this dog out here again without a muzzle and a leash, you'll have to tell it to the judge."
I meekly promised to obey.
And I did obey—for a few times. But Rex didn't like the muzzle, and neither did I; so we decided to take a chance. Everything was lovely for a while, and then we struck a snag. Rex and I raced over the brow of a hill one afternoon and there, suddenly—to my dismay I saw the majesty of the law, astride a bay horse. Rex was out in front, heading straight for the officer.
I was in for it. I knew it. So I didn't wait until the policeman started talking. I beat him to it. I said! "Officer, you've caught me redhanded. I'm guilty. I have no alibis, no excuses. You warned me last week that if I brought the dog out here again without a muzzle you would fine me."