But one morning he went down on the cars when the superior cleanliness of others about him disturbed him no more than usual.
But that morning he glanced up.
"Be Clean. 'Tis the First Principle."
Maybe it only interested him for a moment. But the next morning, "Be Clean. 'Tis Due Yourself." It was personal; it hit him; it wasn't for someone else. "Yourself!" He looked down at himself and perhaps was beginning to be disturbed. Then:
"Be Clean. 'Tis Due to Others!" The thing had become more personal to him now and he looked about to notice that the woman on his right did not sit as close to him as she sat to the clerk on the other side of her. He had noticed that before, perhaps, but had grown used to having clerks, though drawing no more pay than he, be clean and he not. But now this had more point and meaning.
Now, perhaps, it took another card and another morning; perhaps still another and another; but one day it broke him down.
He was going by the shop or the counter where soap was for sale. Other things not his requisites were there, too; but the soap meant something to him now and he had a reason for purchasing; a direct, personal reason. And—he bought.
