When I was a boy, there was but one permanent ambition among
my comrades in our village on the west bank of the Mississippi River. That was,
to be a steamboatman. We had transient ambitions of other sorts, but they were
only transient. When a circus came and went, it left us all burning to become
clowns; the first negro minstrel show that came to our section left us all
suffering to try that kind of life; now and then we had a hope that if we lived
and were good, God would permit us to be pirates. These ambitions faded out,
each in its turn; but the ambition to be a steamboatman always remained.
Mark Twain, from Life on the Mississippi
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