There are times, said Eb Hopkins, when you want to Let Things Alone, and then again there are times when you want to Meddle.  
I lean mostly to lettin’ ’em alone, myself.
 
As I git older I notice that most things sorta cure ’emselves, if you leave ’em lay.
 
I used to butt in frequent when young, but since I passed the draft age I kinda lost my taste for fixin’ things.
 
I suppose they’s some would call me a coward, and a sidestepper, and an opportunist, and a trimmer, and all that—I dunno—maybe I am—but I’ve had my eye on old Mr. Time for lo, these many years, and I’ve 132 observed that, as a mender of bones, hearts, political differences, and religious quarrels, he is like A. Ward’s kangaroo, “seldom ekaled and never surpassed.”
 
The way to teach a boy how to swim is to throw him into the water and go away. Then he has to learn, right off.
 
There was old man Eustis and his wife, over Sanford way, that had no end o’ trouble over their boy. They was always workin’ with him and lecturin’ him and rasslin’ in prayer over him, and he was just carousin’ and actin’ up like all the time; till the old folks up and died, and then they was nobody cared a whoop for the boy, whether he hung hisself or not, and he had the first good spell o’ lettin’ alone he’d ever had in his life, and he just turned ri............