SID 
 SAYS 
 
Qass 
 
 Bonk 
 
 GpiillN?. 
 
SID SAYS 
 
SID SAYS 
 
 r^XU 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN M. SIDDALL 
 
 Editor of The American Magazine { 
 
 NEW YORK \ 
 
 THE CENTURY CO. j 
 
 mil 
 
 ] 
 
 i 
 

 CopfTicbt, 1917. by 
 Tmb Ccvtvbt Co. 
 
 CatfHgkl. Ittt. by 
 
 r^ktiMk^d, Hfpifmbfr. ma 
 
 J 
 
 SEP 20 1917 
 
TO 
 
 J. J. S. 
 
Introducing 
 John M. Siddall 
 
 John M. Siddall was born in Oberlin, 
 Ohio. His father and mother, realiz- 
 ing the necessity for supplying the boy 
 with the right kind of ammunition in 
 the campaign of life, loaded him up at 
 Oberlin College and tamped the charge 
 down at Harvard. From that intelli- 
 gence armory young Siddall stepped 
 into the reporters' room of the Cleve- 
 land Plain Dealer; from there to the 
 Chautauquan Magazine; thence to the 
 editorial staff of McClure's Magazine, 
 and finally to The American Magazine, 
 of which publication he became editor- 
 in-chief in 1915. A swift journey from 
 
 vu 
 
OJ>crIin to the main batten* of oppor- 
 tunity. 
 
 Along the road ht* had iK-cn ^thcr- 
 ing iMiwdcT and shot with which to firt* 
 upon readers. Hi* had pa.vst*d through 
 every rank in the grand anny of ex- 
 perience and knew what he was gun- 
 ning for. 
 
 One perftTt day he loaded the old- 
 faiihioncd puinp-giin of anihition which 
 never cxplcMlcs prcniatiirrly or dislo- 
 cates one's shoulder. t<N>k dch'UTntc 
 aim, and let fly liis first slug of **Sid 
 Says. ' A rt gimcnt of readers fell un- 
 der this lire of wis<lom, poured into tlie 
 trenches of douht. The battle raged 
 fiercely from week t*) week. Tlu- cam- 
 paign V iKhu'ted by a gunner <li- 
 recting his fire from a revolving chair 
 against the central powers of medi- 
 ocrity, detonating his butteries with the 
 s|Mirk of genius. 
 
IX 
 
 Conceding the justification for all 
 twelve-inch ordnance fired in the name 
 of democracy, and with the sincere hope 
 that the parliament of man in the feder- 
 ation of the world is not far remote, let 
 us now observe what "Sid Says" in the 
 following pages, confident that they 
 will continue to serve, long after the 
 world is disarmed, the excellent pur- 
 pose for which they were written. 
 
 I now resign to your hands this 
 White Book, from the pen of a white 
 man, guided by the white light of ex- 
 perience. 
 
 Robert H. Davis. 
 
 Written at the seventh hole of the 
 
 Dunwoodie Golf Club, 
 
 Yonkers, New York, 
 
 July 27, 1917. 
 
Sid 
 
 Says. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 1. To Get Thoroughly Married 
 
 Takes Time and Trouble ... 3 
 
 2. Men Can't Be Geared Up — Unless 
 
 They Are Cheered Up ... 7 
 
 S. A Great Ancestor Would Be All 
 Right if So Many Outsiders 
 Didn't Butt In 11 
 
 4. Let 's Break Away from Grand- 
 
 daddy 15 
 
 5. This Is a Want Ad for a World- 
 
 beater 20 
 
 6. Strive as We Will — Our Brows 
 
 Slope Gently Downward ... 23 
 
 7. Some Poetry Is Made to Be Heard 
 
 — Not Heeded 27 
 
 8. You Can Go Further if You Take 
 
 Others With You 31 
 
 xi 
 
XII 
 
 9. Good BaAiift Dox't Am. Tkatkl Tt» 
 
 Sams Wat ^0 
 
 lU. CoKfiDBM Your Rab* — Tiivv Amm 
 
 Not Pviir.Lv I)eioii%tive ... 41 
 
 II. Doh't Get A.Mioi . Ai.it Nkw 
 Yo«K: IjtT N«w \uuik Grr Am- 
 lovi Aftot'T You 46 
 
 IS. It Is 55omTiv l^rTrm to Rimain 
 A Bosk Tiiv.n iw Makk YocssLr 
 Too iNTCnirrnNcj 31 
 
 18. Some Miuhtv (t«'<Mi Salabibi Go to 
 Men Who Woild Alm«»»t *• Siu»M 
 Womb fob .N'otiiino ^ 
 
 1ft Do.h't Hblibtb Rvkbttiiiko Yoim 
 
 Koo Tell* Vm 59 
 
 15. .Sow That Wt iiwi: Hor«.MT Them 
 
 — Lrr'i UiBV Them' «« 
 
 16. A Mail Cabmiem I» Not the Only 
 Ohi Who 11 At TO Keep on Dbut- 
 
 BBtWO 
 
 M 
 
 17 Hrnt It A New Siit or Clothi ^ i.»m 
 
 Some Old Ideas 70 
 
 18. Ir Thu Be CoMTBiirT or Coibt — 
 
 Send Me thb Bill . Tt 
 
Xlll 
 
 19. It's the Encores People Call for 
 
 That Make Lying Difficult . 78 
 
 20. If Your Ego Bothers You — Go 
 
 Look at the Stars 81 
 
 21. Money Talks — but There Are 
 
 Other Speakers 86 
 
 22. Considering Who Grandpa Was — 
 
 We 're Not So Bad .... 90 
 
 23. It Is Hard to Tell How Numb a 
 
 Young Skull Is 94 
 
 24. I Will Hang This on Balboa — Be- 
 
 cause He Has Had His Fun and 
 
 Is Dead 99 
 
SID SAYS 
 
To Get Thoroughly 
 
 Married Takes Time 
 
 and Trouble 
 
 SOME people don't understand 
 marriage. They think — ^before 
 tackhng it anyway — that it is a natural 
 institution. Their idea is that man by 
 nature first loves and then marries. 
 
 Now the love part is natural, but the 
 marriage part is an artificial scheme 
 worked out by Society to prevent too 
 frequent changes in the organization. 
 Society finds a couple of youngsters 
 who have a natural attraction for each 
 other and it says to them: "Now, is n't 
 this nice! You two think a lot of each 
 other, don't you? And you don't want 
 
 3 
 
to loee each other, uf course! Isn't it 
 a shame you can't sec each otiicr except 
 when Ma or Aunt Henrietta is honicf 
 I wcuidcr if there is n't Miinethin^ wc can 
 flo alxHit it. Sny, how wmihl this httle 
 plan of mine do — marriage.' All you 
 have t^) do is to agree to it and 81^11 a 
 little document. Then vou can live to- 
 Kether. Yes? You like itf All right 
 — just put your names Aown here. 
 There now. That 's line! Just the 
 thing!" 
 
 Then the young folks learn for them- 
 selves the (lilferenee In-tween love and 
 marriage. They learn that while love 
 may turn out to he the short liaul, mar* 
 riage is the long haul. I^ve may get 
 tired and want to (|uit l)efore the piano 
 needs tuning, hut marriage nms right 
 in\ through the \Vcjrlcrs Fair, Roose- 
 velt's administration and the o|>ening of 
 the Panama Canal. It Ixrcomes the one 
 
permanent job of life — a job hard to 
 resign from and difficult to get fired 
 from. Some people get so disgusted 
 they can't stand it any longer and give 
 up in a huff. But there stands Society, 
 pointing the finger of shame at them 
 and calling them welchers and quitters. 
 Others work at the job indifferently, 
 never win success, never quite fail, and 
 go on from year to year afraid to give 
 up, but dazed and mystified until the 
 end of their days. Some glare at each 
 other like meat axes. Others hate each 
 other in their hearts, but for the sake 
 of children or for other reasons live in 
 a state of armed peace under a flag 
 of truce. In cases of this kind both 
 usually derive enormous self-satisfac- 
 tion out of the fortitude and self-control 
 which they display. Many work capa- 
 bly, unselfishly and energetically at the 
 job and make a great success of it. To 
 
such as do the job well the rcwartU arc 
 greater than any to bet obtained dae- 
 whcrc in the world. 
 
 In business, if you make a ^reat toe- 
 oeaa» there may conic a time wben peo- 
 ple begin to suggest that you ougiit to 
 get out and give others a chance. Not 
 80 with marriage. If you win out in 
 matrimony nolxxly wants you to quit. 
 You arc never su|HTarmuate<l or put on 
 a pension. If you make a aueceai 
 ever\!H>dy wants you to keep right on, 
 stay in tlie neigh iNirhood, and come 
 around for the evening. 
 
 Marriage furnishes ever>' man a 
 chance to be a great num. In the nur- 
 ried relation a yoimg man can be as 
 wise as Washington, as entertaining as 
 Ijn(^>h) and as diplomatic as Hismart^k. 
 No married man ever has the right in 
 stand up liefore tlie world and claim tliut 
 he has n*t had opportuniti(*s. 
 
Men Can't be Geared 
 
 Up — Unless They are 
 
 Cheered Up 
 
 I USED to know a man who was a 
 wonder at taking the heart out of 
 those who worked under him. He was 
 the original kill- joy — a paragon of pes- 
 simism. He would roll over on any one 
 who showed enthusiasm, and flatten him 
 out until he looked like a punctured toy 
 balloon. I don't think he intended to 
 do all the damage he wrought. He 
 simply did not know any better. 
 
 His specialty was criticism. The 
 minute you approached him with a sug- 
 gestion he got out his instruments and 
 
 7 
 
ainput.itMl ymir new idea, Tlicn he 
 tmtluti you with on antiseptic wa.sh of 
 ^l(M)iiiy wonU calcuhitcd to rt-iulcr you 
 iininunc to the developinent of any 
 fre^h outpouring of inspiration. If 
 some one did a good job in the offiee» 
 this man, who hap|)ened to be the boss, 
 wouhi (^me around and cheer him up by 
 teUing him liow it could have been done 
 l)etter. lie never even admitted that 
 a good job had l)een done at all, l>ut im- 
 me<liat<.ly set alnait to iH)int out imper- 
 feetions in the work. In his line, which 
 was criticizing, he held the world's 
 championship. If he had been present 
 at the creation of the earth, which is 
 said to have l)een put over (piite cleverly 
 in r(*i*ord time, he would have hinted that 
 the thing could easily have Irtu done in 
 five days instead of six — and |K)ssibly 
 by Friday luxm, or in four and a half 
 days, if certain precautions had been 
 
9 
 
 taken and if the work had been more 
 efficiently laid out with a view to speed. 
 
 The man about whom I write this 
 heartfelt tribute is dead. While he 
 lived he was about as popular as the 
 hives. Nobody derived any benefit 
 from him. But when he passed away 
 he left behind him (in other minds) a 
 thought. Here it is: 
 
 If you have people working for you, 
 one way to encourage them to do more 
 and better work is occasionally to pick 
 out instances where they have shown 
 signs of ability, and commend them. 
 Any worker, particularly a young 
 worker, is likely to be unable to discrimi- 
 nate between his good work and his 
 poor work. If you are his boss it is 
 up to you to help him distinguish be- 
 tween the two. It is also up to you to 
 take the young man in hand and explain 
 to him why the good job is good and 
 
10 
 
 why the |)o<»r joh in poor. I n ibr first 
 instance he will l)e hearing •omcthing 
 pleasant and inspiring, and in the sec- 
 ond inst Alice he will l>e in a better mood 
 to listen to ynti. Vou can also depend 
 ii{M)n it that the man who is intelli>^*ntly 
 praised for a ^kkI piece of work will try 
 to duphcate that work so tliat he may 
 earn more praise. 
 
 These ^K>om boys — like the one I 
 have cliararterizetl aliove — keep an of- 
 fice so dark with their doiihts that no- 
 body can see where to go. 
 
A Great Ancestor 
 
 Would he All Right 
 
 if so Many Outsiders 
 
 Didn't Butt In 
 
 A MAN tackled me for a job the 
 other day. After enumerating 
 his various accompUshments he wound 
 up with a final claim that was intended 
 to impress me with his importance once 
 and for all. He said that he was a direct 
 descendant of Bishop Ump-t-ump — ^the 
 most learned man of his time in Eng- 
 land. I asked what time that was, and 
 he said that it was about four hundred 
 years ago. I told him that — allowing 
 
 twenty -five years for each generation — 
 
 11 
 
1« 
 
 be must tic the sixteenth cletcenrtant 
 "No. not tlie sixteenth/* he said, "but 
 the fifttrnth/' -All riK»it;' T ^id. 
 •'call it the fifteenth. Now Id s lake a 
 sheet of jm|KT and see what yonr cre- 
 dentials reallv are. Ixrt 's see — you had 
 one fallur and one niotlier, two ^and- 
 fathcrs and two grandinotheni, four 
 ^freat-grand fat hers and four great- 
 ^andniothers. eight great-great-grand- 
 fatluTs and tight great -great-grand- 
 mnthers — and so on.** 
 
 Carrying the niultiplieation Imck to 
 the fifteenth preeeding generation I 
 showed that at the time tlie hishop lived, 
 my friend, the applieant, had exactly 
 8*J.708 ancestors. In other words, the 
 hishop was only one of the 8*2,708 hu- 
 man In-ings who were his foreliears at 
 that time. 
 
 **You have mentioneil the Inshop, hut 
 what about the (»ther ;i*.'.707f** I askod. 
 
13 
 
 "It seems to me that I ought to hear 
 something about them if I am to judge 
 you by the good blood which you say 
 is in you. The bishop was all right. 
 You are lucky to have as much of him 
 in you as you have. But the bishop's 
 stock has been considerably watered. I 
 don't believe he would recognize you. 
 What about the rest?" 
 
 That is the trouble with this heredity 
 game — if you carry it back very far. 
 Old Mother Nature is a wonderful lev- 
 eler. Apparently her idea is to carry 
 the race forward together, and not to 
 play favorites. She won't let geniuses 
 or boneheads breed in a straight line. 
 To the weak she frequently gives a child 
 of incredible talent — to keep the neigh- 
 bors from getting abusive. To the bril- 
 liant and favored of the earth she often 
 presents a choice piece of ivory in the 
 shape of a dull son. If Nature did n't 
 
u 
 
 protect tl>c rest of us in this inaiincr. it 
 would n't be long until we would all be 
 working for one family, made up en- 
 tirely of giants. 
 
 AnotluT feature of the selicme is that 
 it keeps us all interested. Surprises 
 abound on all sides. There is no telling 
 where the next world-beater and the 
 next dunce are coming from. 
 
LiCt 's Break A way 
 from Granddaddy 
 
 I AM for woman suffrage, or almost 
 any kind of suffrage. I would 
 have just as many voters as possible. 
 There are too few, rather than too many. 
 
 The whole human race is given over 
 to the granddaddy theory: "Now just 
 you leave everything to me. I know 
 best, and I will decide. You are not 
 smart enough, or you are a woman, or 
 you are a foreigner, or you have n't had 
 the experience. Anyway, I am your 
 grandpa, and I know what is what and 
 I will tell you what to do." 
 
 Everybody wants to do that. We all 
 do: we all want to boss. We all want 
 to keep other people from sharing au- 
 
 15 
 
16 
 
 thiirilv with us. \\\ all want fiftv-onc 
 jHT cent, of the stcKk. Wc want con- 
 trol. 
 
 And what is the result? The women 
 and all the rt^t who do not enjoy the 
 suffrage have an everU^ting **alihi.** 
 Thev have an exaise. Tliev would 
 have done thin^ difTi-rently if they had 
 had the say. No, sir! I would j^ivc 
 them all a chance — if for no other rea- 
 son, just to find out for once how little 
 the whole crowd, acting together, really 
 knows. It might teach the human race 
 a little humility. Out of tlie e.\|)eriencc 
 there miglit grow a more enlightened 
 IkhIv politic. I would give the suffrage 
 freely just as an educational aid. I 
 would sav: '*There it is! Take it, if 
 you want it. If you can do anything 
 with it. all right. All the tools for your 
 improvement in the world arc at vntir 
 dis|>osal.*' 
 
17 
 
 Frankly, I presume that an extended 
 suffrage might mean a worse world for 
 the time being. I have an idea that 
 things might grow worse before they 
 got better. But what of it? It seems 
 to me that unless there is something in- 
 herently wrong in the ballot it is foolish 
 to keep it away from this person and 
 give it to that person. Why not give 
 it to all who want it — who express a de- 
 sire to use it? It seems to me that it 
 comes right down to this point of the 
 inherent right or wrong of it. If it is 
 inherently right, a good thing in itself, 
 how can you predict who will make the 
 best use of it? If it is aimed to benefit 
 all those who are using it, why might it 
 not benefit others ? 
 
 In conclusion, let us refer to one other 
 granddaddy idea: Granddaddies of 
 all Idnds have the notion that the young 
 or the inexperienced or the minority 
 
18 
 
 st()cklK)liicr ur the out«»uicr is goinf( to 
 grab A new in«itniinent for the |)ur|>ose 
 of killing himself. Hitheulouai The 
 old forf^-t the self-preM-Tving instinct of 
 the young. The young have no idea of 
 destroying themselves. Of course they 
 make mistakes, but on the whole thev 
 strive to improve tbciDaeIves« to save 
 their own skins. If the young were as 
 uiitnistwortiiy with their (jwn hides as 
 some of their elders foolishly Indieve, 
 H road way would !>e strewn ever)* morn- 
 ing with the dead IxHiies of young men 
 aad women who have come to the great 
 ritv from the countn'. 
 
 Ihit it is n*t. And such an instru- 
 ment as the l)nll(»t is not going to !h* ns( <1 
 l>v women or l»v anvlxnlv else for pur- 
 jMisc's of general, or self, destnuiion. 
 A greater dangiT lies in the |H)ssibility 
 that the Imllot will interest too few. 
 
 I should like to sec the world really 
 
19 
 
 try sometime to find out what all the 
 people can and will do. Everybody 
 talks about democracy, but nobody 
 wants to try it. 
 
This is (I Want Ad Jar 
 a II ^orld-bcatcr 
 
 IW'OXDKU uhen it is goin^ to be 
 casicT lor |>co])lc to f^t thnni^i 
 this world without being bored. The 
 capacity of human U-ings to bore and 
 Ik.' lM>rc(l is cnornuKis. 
 
 Think of all the school children who 
 arc l)cing lH>red. There they arc — 
 millions of them — Ixittletl up in scIkhiI- 
 houses patiently learning the art of try- 
 ing to look interested in something that 
 does n't interest them. When they gel 
 out of schcMil they take up {Mist-grail- 
 uate work along the same line. They 
 go into the law. when they have real love 
 for the dairy business, and into music, 
 
 20 
 
21 
 
 "•^■— ■— "^ 
 
 when they are born hardware dealers. 
 Schooled to beheve that they ought to 
 like this or that, they are ready to try 
 what is "expected" of them — to adopt 
 other people's ideas of what would be a 
 reputable and proper calling for "one 
 of your position," and so on through a 
 lot of foohshness. Anyway, they get 
 off on the wrong tack and stay there. 
 
 No wonder the world is filled with 
 people who talk and talk about the good 
 time coming when they can retire. To 
 hear them complain about their work 
 you might think they were in jail. 
 They are. 
 
 Every employer is familiar with this 
 great Army of Misfits. They are hon- 
 est. They try. But they have n't the 
 joy of the game in their eyes. And to 
 save your life you cannot tell how to re- 
 lease their powers and give them wing. 
 
 Apparently educational systems are 
 
tlu* cnni( st of all human instituti 
 The IK ' cuius has not yet arri\ vxi 
 
 — the nian who can show us bow to take 
 a \m}\\ start with his best inclinations, 
 and work out liis cihication, holding his 
 interest, making liini proud rather than 
 ajkhaincd of his enthusiasms, turning his 
 enthusiasms to f^nod account, yet culti- 
 vating discipline and self -control. A 
 l)i^ job! No wonder the man needetl is 
 hard to find, and slow in Iniardin^; what 
 IIerl>ert (^uick calls **this gocxl hhip, 
 earth." Hut he will arrive. There arc 
 rumblings. 
 
 In the meantime children are listen- 
 ing for the three-o'clock bell, and won- 
 dering wlirtlier the teacher's cold may 
 not keep her home to-morn)W. 
 
Strive as We Will — 
 
 Our Brows Slope 
 
 Gently Downward 
 
 ONE of the most amusing facts of 
 life is that "Bud" Fisher, maker 
 of newspaper comics, should get for his 
 work fully ten times as much per year 
 as ex-President Eliot of Harvard ever 
 got. 
 
 "Bud" makes $150,000 a year, and, 
 although Dr. Eliot never confided in us 
 about personal matters, we can make a 
 mighty good guess that he never saw 
 more than $15,000 a year in his life. 
 
 Let 's be frank. Ex-President Eliot 
 is a wonderfully smart man. We all 
 respect him and feel that we are way 
 
 23 
 
«4 
 
 below him. Wo know tliat lie thinks 
 deep tliou^ht.s niul knows liow to write 
 thiiii down. We reahzc thnt if it were 
 |M)ssihle to measure a man's hraiiui and 
 abihty by dollars he would start in at 
 about $10,000 a wedc and ^i a raise be- 
 fore tlie end of the montli. But Dr. 
 Eliot does n*t get the money. He can't 
 get the- money. He can't brin^ it into 
 the 1h)X oflii-c. 
 
 Now the joke, if there is one, is not on 
 Dr. Kliot: it is on us. Vou and I are 
 the ones who deeide how mucli Dr. Kliot 
 shall have and how nuieli "Hud** shall 
 have. What is the explanation f The 
 explanation is that we won*t pay any- 
 thing like as nnieh for the di^iified im- 
 |x*rsonal expression of principles and 
 wisdom as we will pay for wisdom 
 served, as "Bud" serves it, with "pep" 
 and |K*rsonalities. 
 
 There is still nfiotlirr way to pfet nt nn 
 
25 
 
 understanding of "Bud." Take the 
 cartoonist of the old school, who carica- 
 tures public men and public events. 
 Why does that kind of cartoonist have 
 to be satisfied with less than "Bud's" in- 
 come? The answer runs about this 
 way: 
 
 Human beings think first of them- 
 selves. They can't help it. They are 
 built that way. In this fact is found 
 the reason why the modern newspaper 
 comic strip is more popular than car- 
 toons of public men or events. The 
 newspaper comic, such as "Bud" and 
 Goldberg draw, is about you and me. 
 The old-fashioned cartoon is about 
 somebody else — Woodrow Wilson or 
 Theodore Roosevelt, for example — and, 
 while you and I regard Wilson and 
 Roosevelt as interesting, we cannot hon- 
 estly say that we are as much interested 
 in them as we are in ourselves. The 
 
26 
 
 newspaper comic iimkcr. cither imtme- 
 lively or by design* has discovered this 
 truth. So, instead of giving us a pic- 
 ture of Wilson or Roo«e\'eIt. he gives us 
 a picture of a comical liappening ri^ht 
 in our own Iwme or our o\*'n n(\\w. 
 There in the picture is you^-^md there 
 am / — and over there is that bonehead 
 we know, wlio acts just tliat way. \Vc 
 have seen him do tliat a thousand times! 
 Oh, what an idiot he is! 
 
 And MV wedged into the New Vcirk 
 fubway, or on a Euclid Avenue car in 
 Cleveland, we Icxik first at these pictures 
 and chuckle over them. Afler uhich. 
 with diminished enthusiasm, we pnx*ee«l 
 to a solenm ainsideration of the news of 
 the dav and tlie editor's discussion of lib- 
 
 m 
 
 eralism in Russia. 
 
Some Poetry is Made 
 to be Heard — Not 
 Heeded 
 
 AFTER a lively day at the office I 
 wedged into the subway the other 
 evening, opened up a New York eve- 
 ning paper, and found on the editorial 
 page the following inspiring and cheer- 
 ful line: 
 
 Ambition has but one reward for all — ' 
 A little power, a little transient fame, 
 A grave to rest in, and a fading name. 
 
 I began to wonder why I had gone 
 down-town in the morning if this was all 
 I was going to get out of it. Then I 
 tried to imagine what good it would 
 
 27 
 
have (l(Hic me to stay at home and sit in 
 a nKkin^ ehair all ihiy. If my wife 
 went out and brou^^lit me my evening 
 |)aper, would n*t I \k just as unhappy 
 when I eamc ujKjn the poet's wcinlsf 
 If poets are going to "kid** me when I 
 work and relative's when I loaf, what 
 eai) I do? I can't hit off at one side 
 on n htar and nuninnte on these mat- 
 ters. I liave to mix around on earth, 
 where life is real and ereditors are 
 earnest. \\'hcre shall I go and how 
 shall I managed What do you recom- 
 mend, Mr. l*oetf I don't enjoy Ix-ing 
 a i)oor miserable wonn any more than 
 you enjoy string me one. 
 
 As a matter of fact, the 'little |)ower" 
 and the ''transient fame** which the iKxrt 
 complains of are first*claas things to 
 strive for. They are the best rewanls 
 in the market. Tc» refuse to stni: 
 for them i^ cowardly and unsi>ortsman- 
 
29 
 
 like. The human being who won't play 
 and take his part in the game of life is 
 the most useless of creatures. Here we 
 are on this earth NOW— not 100,000 
 years ago or 100,000 years hence, but 
 NOW. And here are others like us. 
 Here is work to do and here are pleas- 
 ures to enjoy. It is up to us to take 
 hold and accept those forms of satisfac- 
 tion which are available. Perhaps we 
 shall all meet again in another existence 
 where the rewards of ambition are bet- 
 ter or, at least, different. If so, go 
 after them when you get there, would be 
 my advice. 
 
 The poet who got up this dose of 
 philosophy probably has not the slight- 
 est idea of swallowing it himself. He 
 had a fine time writing the lines, and 
 probably he hopes that they will live! 
 No doubt if you stole his poem and tried 
 to palm it off as your own he would 
 
fhattite you. You would nut iiiul him 
 irady to have his nanie fade yet« lie 
 would fi^lit for luH rights, and f^^^^i to 
 keep his work fnun Ixin^ annihilated — 
 which is what we arc put in the world 
 for. 
 
 I)on*t order your life on the plans 
 and .si>ccification8 laid down by a poet 
 Kcmember that wimt a i>oet writes must 
 rhyme. Often a iK'rfectly well-inten- 
 tioned and optimistic |)oet wanders off 
 into the gl(M>m factory looking for odd 
 sizes ill metrical feet. A i)oct would 
 rather sean well than Ije President 
 
Vou Can go Further 
 
 if You Take Others 
 
 with You 
 
 IT is easy to understand how a man 
 might be three or four or even ten 
 times as successful in business as the 
 general average of men. But when a 
 man is a hundred or a thousand times as 
 successful as his fellows we look on with 
 amazement, and, because we cannot 
 comprehend it, we usually say that he is 
 a howling genius, and let it go at that. 
 But calling a man a howling genius 
 does not get us anywhere. It does not 
 explain anything. It is an unsatisfac- 
 tory definition, because it contains no 
 
 31 
 
hint or Iiolp. Nobody knows exactly 
 what a ^'nius is. 
 
 Now. I am no diaL:ii<»stician of great- 
 ness. I am just lis nmeh puzzled as 
 anylnnly when it comes to defining 
 the (lunlities thnt make for su{HTla- 
 tivc achievement. Take, for example, 
 Charles M. Schwab, whose story capti- 
 vates the imagination of most men. 1 
 cannot take Schwal) apart and show you 
 why, starting as a day lalx)rer without 
 influeiu^c or a dollar to his name, he has 
 turned out to l>e what he is — a giant in 
 the business world. Hut I know his 
 story through and through, and as I 
 have considered it this thought has come 
 to me: 
 
 'I'here are |)n»lnd»ly dozens of men in 
 the st(*el business who know almost as 
 mueh al)out that business as Schwab 
 knows. Hut where other men concen- 
 trate on tlieir own i>er2>onal contribution 
 
33 
 
 to the perfection of some part of the 
 business, perhaps some technical part, 
 Schwab takes an enormous interest in 
 studying and developing men whose tal- 
 ents can be used in broadening and ex- 
 tending the business. You will find 
 that note running all through his story 
 — a curious watchfulness for the new 
 man and almost childhke enthusiasm 
 when he discovers him. Take his de- 
 light over Eugene Grace, for example. 
 Grace was a switchman eight years ago, 
 and now Schwab has made him presi- 
 dent of the Bethlehem Steel Corpora- 
 tion and his income is a million dollars a 
 year. Schwab is so tickled over Grace 
 that he can hardly hold himself in. He 
 predicts that Grace will someday be the 
 biggest industrial figure in America ! 
 
 In other words, a man like Schwab, 
 by finding and encouraging men, and 
 by inspiring their loyalty, carries him- 
 
S4 
 
 teir und all his tMociatcs oil to a 
 which none of them a)uld achieve akxie. 
 Ue establishes a lon^ Imttle line of or- 
 ganiiation in which there are gnat 
 niinil>crs of men iiitrlli^*iitly used and 
 ^-nuiiicly appreciated by a commander 
 who rcali7x*s that his own success is mani- 
 folded by the work of his aiisociatet. 
 
 In business it is not tlic individual 
 producer who gets the biggest or the 
 surest rewards: it is the organization 
 iMiilder. And any man, no matter how 
 small his business, ought to recogniie 
 that fact Uidess an employer is inter- 
 ested in finding, training, holding and 
 dividing with giNnl men, the busint*s.s he 
 is engaged in can never grow. It will 
 remain the work of one man; and the 
 work of one man is bound to Ih* limited 
 in size and pn>fits. 
 
 Vou may think that you are in the 
 aboe liusiness or the shirt luisimiis or the 
 
35 i 
 
 furniture business — but you are mis- 
 taken. After all is said and done, we 
 are all in the same business — the man 
 business — no matter what we make or 
 sell. Some of the "big fellows" see that 
 point more clearly than the rest of us do 
 — and multiply their power and profits 
 accordingly. 
 
Good I i rains Don't all 
 
 Travel the Same 
 
 Way 
 
 1\ their iiK'iital oiMfrations I see 
 uIkjuI uic all the time two ^^hj|>s of 
 men — the nioM|uitc) licit ajul the ele- 
 phant brigade. The uios(|uito boys 
 think ({iiiekly. and dart to conclusions 
 like li>^htiiing. Voii will gt't on opinion 
 out of them instantly that will lie su|)e- 
 rior to anv thev will lie able to priNluce 
 after etiasiileration. The elephant Uiyg 
 take more time, lliey move slowly. 
 They like to think thin^ over. Ask 
 them for an opinion, and they will do 
 Mter if they meditate. 
 
37 
 
 There is no special choice between 
 these two groups. In each group there 
 are quantities of men of great ability. 
 I can at this moment think of two won- 
 derful Presidents of the United States 
 — one a mosquito and the other an ele- 
 phant. 
 
 As between men and women, it can 
 be said in general that women are of the 
 mosquito type. They pride themselves 
 on their instinct for quick judgment. 
 Men call it intuition. The "bright" boy 
 at school is usually of the mosquito type. 
 His intellectual performances are rapid 
 and showy. He may or may not go on 
 and succeed — but if he does make good 
 he won't get any particular credit for it 
 from his schoolmates, simply because 
 they "always knew he was smart." It 
 takes a successful elephant to go back 
 to his class reunion and stir up enthusi- 
 asm. Nobody expected much of him, 
 
and oooaequrntly even IkkIv is prepared 
 to Applaud liis nchic'veinents. 
 
 It is amusing to watch tlicst* twokindi 
 of men meet. Tlie mosquitoc^s bother 
 tlie elephants, and the eleplianU bother 
 the mosquitoes. In games, espeeially, 
 the irritation between tlic two rcmcbes ita 
 height. If it is canis, the moaquito, 
 with his leaping' mind, knows in a aeoond 
 what he wants to do, while Uic elephant 
 has to wait for liis inspiration. Some 
 gamea are better adapted to one of these 
 groups than to the other. Take chcas, 
 for example — an admiral)le game for 
 the elephant tyi>e of mind. There is a 
 game wliirh two elephants can enjoy for 
 a week at a stretch. 
 
 The worst thing that can happen to a 
 man is to think himself an elephant 
 when he is a mosquito, or a moaquito 
 when he is an elephant. Some of the 
 most terrible mis6ts in the world are 
 
39 
 
 misplaced elephants and misplaced mos- 
 quitoes. For example, a mosquito and 
 an elephant can go into law practice to- 
 gether and supplement each other's tal-. 
 ents beautifully. But the elephant had^ 
 better keep out of court, where nimble-, 
 ness of mind is peculiarly required. 
 
 Another point is that the mosquitoes 
 ought never to tease the elephants 
 to try to take on mosquito-like speed. 
 Neither should the elephants tease the 
 mosquitoes to try to take on elephantine 
 deliberation. It can't be done. Let 
 every man work according to his own in- 
 stinct. The minute he begins to imper- 
 sonate somebody else he loses himself, 
 and his judgments and decisions are of 
 less value. 
 
 As a final observation, it may be 
 well to record the fact that both classes 
 of men are entirely satisfied with 
 their equipment. The mosquitoes think 
 
40 
 
 tilt re is nothing m) ^natly to be desirc<I 
 as Agility, and the elephants pride them- 
 selves on their dehlK-ration. whieh is. I 
 suppose, as it shcndd be— for without 
 self-appreciation man would surrlv pr- 
 ish. 
 
Consider Your Ears— 
 
 They are not Purely 
 
 Decorative 
 
 HAVE you ever had a good din- 
 ner for nothing? I had one the 
 other night. It was absolutely free. I 
 don't refer to the cost of the meal. I 
 refer to the cost of the conversation. 
 
 From start to finish I gave nothing 
 and received everything. The man 
 with whom I dined started in with his 
 business and Ms ideas and his preju- 
 dices, and thej^ were the only topics up 
 for discussion throughout the entire 
 evening. When he lagged in his mono- 
 logue all I had to do was to prompt him 
 with a question, and he was off again. 
 
 41 
 
4f 
 
 It WIS the eancst work I ever did. 1 
 ^ot the most with the lea.st efTurt. I s«y 
 I gut the most — and I did. For he is s 
 wooderfully clever man. If I should 
 name him, most of ymi would reoognixe 
 him. 
 
 Hut in spite of all the interesting 
 things be said, I must admit that I don't 
 regard liim as really able — at least, I 
 don't think he is as a))le as he mi^ht l)e if 
 he showed more curiosity alK)ut the facts 
 and ideas that are in the |M)ssession of 
 others. Putting it difTcrently, 1 tliink 
 he is a had trader. He gives too much 
 and receives too little in return. Dur- 
 ing this dinner I honestly think I got tlie 
 best of him — simply because I gained 
 a lot of useful infonnation while he was 
 getting nothing except vocal exercise 
 and the satisfaction Uiat i^iinrs from 
 having an attentive listener, i'crhaps, 
 indeed, there was nothing of value to 
 
43 
 
 him in my point of view. But how did 
 he know? He did not even try to find 
 out. 
 
 The fact has frequently been im- 
 pressed upon me that nearly all really 
 able men are eager devourers of other 
 people's information and ideas. They 
 are too good traders to be always giving 
 and never receiving. They know better 
 than to tap continually their reservoir 
 of wisdom without setting a catch-basin 
 for a new supply. Not long ago a 
 journalist of my acquaintance went out 
 to Chicago and had several extended 
 talks with J. Ogden Armour in prepara- 
 tion for some articles. When he re- 
 turned to New York one of the first 
 things he had to say was that Armour 
 had asked him more questions than he 
 was possibly able to ask Armour. 
 Theodore Roosevelt is a human question 
 mark. Peter Dunne (creator of "Mr. 
 
41 
 
 Doolcy,** and one of the wisest men 
 oil this plnnct ) never let* nn y ^i^TMss grovr 
 under his feet if lie su.s|Hvts tlmt vtHi 
 have a new fact or a fresh point of view 
 eoneealed on your person. 
 
 Ordinarily, the man who ccaaca to ttsk 
 qucftioiis has ceased to learn. And 
 wben a man ceases to leani he grows 
 complnci*nt. Snui^ess sets in and he 
 iK'^ins t<» deteriorate. The laek of euri- 
 osity in n man is a si^i of a^e. Vou can 
 he sure that you are getting old if you 
 have lost curiosity. But old age — in« 
 tclloctuttlly— comes on ver\' early with 
 some jH-ople, ond with others it never 
 seems to come. Many <»M jHt)|»le have 
 younger and more eager minds than 
 their ehildren. 
 
 In New York rccentiv, Willie Col- 
 lier put on a sliow tlmt has one extraor* 
 dinary line in it. It is n line that 
 might suggc-st a g<iod New Year's reso- 
 
45 
 
 lution for many people. One of the 
 characters says to another : "Say, don't 
 you know that you were given one 
 mouth and two ears for a purpose?" 
 
Don't Oct Anxious 
 
 About AViu York: 
 
 Let Neii) York Get 
 
 yinxious ^Ihoiit 
 
 You 
 
 AN old friend ctDed to ask my ad- 
 \icc Ujc other day. lie cmme to 
 New York from a little Indiana to^-n. 
 lie has a wife and four childrm — and a 
 IKM)r job. As I talketl with him I kept 
 picturing him where be belongi — bade 
 in the old liome town. If lie had staved 
 there he mi^ht have worked into a 
 $1,000 or $1,200 job, which would have 
 been sufTleient to sati.sfy all his needs and 
 most of his wants. He could have had 
 a garden, a yard, a savin^ri hank aecount 
 
47 
 
 and a membership in the local lodge. 
 Evenings he could have sat on his porch 
 and held converse with his neighbors. 
 On the Fourth of July he could have 
 been "some punkins" at the neighbor- 
 hood picnic. He might have become a 
 village councilman; and when the fall 
 campaign arrived, he could have been on 
 the committee to welcome the congress- 
 man when that great personage came to 
 town in search of votes. In other 
 words, he might have had a real place in 
 the community. 
 
 Now what does he get in exchange for 
 the $1,000 or $1,200 that he earns in 
 New York? Well, I suppose he gets a 
 measly little flat with dark bedrooms, a 
 fine assortment of cheap lunches, two 
 chances daily to hang by his eyelids in 
 the subway, a great fund of loneliness 
 and a woe-begone feeling of uselessness. 
 
 That is the trouble with these whaling 
 
48 
 
 big cities like Xcu* Vork and Chimgn. 
 They arc all right for men of known 
 ahihty — men of force and ainl)ition wlio 
 have learned how to direct their talents. 
 But thev arc liard on untried men — men 
 who have not vet found tlienuclves. 
 This is not said for the purpose of scar- 
 ing venturesome and unattached young 
 fellows of al)ilitv who want to tn* their 
 muscles on the !)ig town. There is no 
 danger of scaring them. They cannot 
 be scared. The morning trains arc 
 bringing them in by the hundreds — 
 this very day — and all the printing 
 presses in the world could not drive 
 them hack. I^ut it ijt said for the pur- 
 |)ose of causing every small-town man, 
 with responsibilities, to consider care- 
 fully l)eforc coming whether he has a 
 definite aim in coming, and whether he 
 haa faith and conviction that he really 
 has something to give to tlie big town. 
 
49 
 
 Don't come just for the ride. Don't 
 come except from positive choice. 
 Don't come just because others are com- 
 ing. The best rule of all is this — if you 
 have no definite, compelling reason 
 within yourself to come, don't come un- 
 til you are invited. Do your job well 
 at home. If the big town wants you 
 she will call for you. A hundred tele- 
 grams went out from New York to-day 
 to various and remote parts of the 
 United States carrying offers of good 
 jobs to smart chaps who have done so 
 well that New York has heard of them. 
 Only last week I met a young man from 
 Massachusetts who had just been of- 
 fered an $8,000-a-year place in New 
 York. He said he had n't the least idea 
 how the thing started — except that he 
 had done work that had been brought to 
 the attention of several New York 
 bankers, one of whom had looked him 
 
50 
 
 up and then fUshctl him the ufTcr ui m 
 job. 
 
 So leave your name and address wiUi 
 the li)cn\ o|>erator and gri back to your 
 knitting. New York is not tongue- 
 tie<I. 1 f she needs you she *ll wire. Of 
 course, if you think you are a record- 
 breaking genius you will probably take 
 the first train for Hroadway — and 
 nuiybe it will lie just aa well for you to 
 do ao. A genius is just as urilinppy one 
 place as another. But, genius or no 
 genius, there won*t Ih.* any brass band to 
 meet you when you arrive nt thr Grand 
 Central Station. 
 
It is Sometimes Better to 
 
 Remain a Bore than to 
 
 Make Yourself too 
 
 Interesting 
 
 WHEN you are talking to a man, 
 and when his interest in what 
 you are saying begins to lag, a good way 
 to resuscitate him is to lean forward and 
 say: "What I am now going to tell 
 you is in the strictest confidence. You 
 must not breathe a word of it." Or- 
 dinarily one who has that said to him 
 will wake up and pay better attention 
 to your conversation — at least for a 
 while. What you have really done 
 when you say that to a man is this: 
 You have prevented him from going to 
 
 51 
 
52 
 
 sleep on ymir hand!!, you have stirred 
 his curiosity, you have advertised! 
 
 As a scheme for stimulating interest 
 in your line of talk it is all ri^ht Hut 
 if what you then proceed to tell is some- 
 thing Uiat you rtally want to have kept 
 secret, tl)c plan is a poor one. If you 
 have information that you don't want 
 people to spread around — keep it to 
 yourself. 
 
 The tn>uhle with a human l>eing who 
 hears a thing in confidi-ncc is often this 
 — he can't rememlK-r that he heard it in 
 confidence. lie rememlxTs the item of 
 news, providing it is juicy enough, hut 
 the fact that he heard it in confidence 
 dnips out of mind, and then he In^gins to 
 tell it around. Telling a thing in con- 
 fidence is a little like handing a man a 
 jewi-l in an enveloiK*. and at the same 
 time warning him to take as good care 
 of the envelojM* as he takes of tlie jewel. 
 
53 
 
 Everything goes all right for a while. 
 But by and by the envelope wears out. 
 It is a flimsy sort of thing anyway. 
 And so there comes a time when the en- 
 velope, having grown thin and weak and 
 frayed at the edges, slips off or is cast 
 off and nothing remains but the jewel. 
 How did I acquire all this wisdom on 
 the subject of confidential communica- 
 tions? I will tell you. I acquired it 
 recently in the School of Experience. 
 About three months ago I told some- 
 thing in strict confidence to a friend — a 
 man of the highest character — one who 
 would not injure me intentionally for 
 the world. But (and this is what gave 
 me a jar) he went and lost the green en- 
 velope, for yesterday he called at my 
 ofBce, carefully closed the door, drew his 
 chair near to mine, and in a low voice 
 told ME in "strictest confidence" ex- 
 actly the same thing that I had told him ! 
 
Some Mi^hti/ Good Sal- 
 
 a?ics ^o to Men Who 
 
 would Almost as soon 
 
 IVork for Nothing 
 
 AI-^niEXD of iiniu- who is as 
 l;<h»(I a mail in his line as any- 
 body in tlir riiitcd States sU^xX in my 
 office a few (lays a^o niul snid a surpris- 
 ing thing. 1 had Uon ctunph men ting 
 him on one of his latest achie\*ements. 
 His face lighted up as he remarked: 
 "Of course I got a lot of money for that 
 job, but between you and mc I 'd do 
 these things for nothing if I could n*t 
 get anylKxly to pay me for them. I 'd 
 rather do them tlian eat. It 's a shame 
 
 to take the money. Don't give me 
 
 M 
 
55 
 
 away, or they 11 be asking me to cut 
 down my price and I '11 be doing it." 
 
 That sounds like bunk. But wait a 
 minute. Think clear through the prop- 
 osition. This man will never be cutting 
 down his price at all. It is exactly the 
 other way around with him — and he 
 knows it. The truth is that his income 
 goes on rising — because those he works 
 for keep bidding up for his services. 
 What he meant was that he has found 
 the secret of progress and enjoyment — 
 namely, a field of activity to which he is 
 suited and in which he is so interested 
 and happy that he works as if he were 
 playing. No wonder he performs mir- 
 acles ! Naturally he is glad to have the 
 large sums of money he earns. They 
 are a sort of crude measurement of his 
 efficiency. They show in a rough way 
 how other people estimate his value. 
 But the main point is that he has found 
 
56 
 
 hk nielie and timt hv coiuxntrntr^i on hii 
 job for days and wct^ks at n stretch. 
 All bis tiKHjght is concerned witli wbat 
 be can put into bis work — not what be 
 can fivi out of it. Lucky man! 
 
 Evidently tbc same thin^^ is true of 
 James A. Farrell, whose stor>' I was 
 reading' the other dny. Farrell is 
 President of the United States Steel 
 Corporation, and is noted for bis won- 
 derful menior>*. He sa>'8 tbat tbe se- 
 cret of a good memor\' is interest, and 
 that anylxHly can reinenilKT thin^ be is 
 genuinely interesteil in. Anyway, Far- 
 rell devours facts alnuit the steel luisi- 
 ness — and rememlK-rs them. Now the 
 chances are that Fnrrell has ^ot into tbe 
 one place on cartli which he can fill tbc 
 best — the presidencj' of the Steel Cor- 
 poration. It is ^ * t that be would 
 rather do that job for nothinf^ than l>e 
 without work of a similar kind. And, 
 
57 
 
 of course, it follows that he is worth 
 more to the Steel Corporation than he 
 would be if he were less absorbed in 
 what he is doing. 
 
 I wish I had the prescription to hand 
 out that would turn every man into some 
 kind and degree of a Farrell. But I 
 haven't. There is only one thought I 
 can suggest. The idea is simply this: 
 don't fake for years and years an inter- 
 est in something that bores you. Don't 
 pretend all your hfe, for the sake of 
 fancied appearances, to enjoy some 
 form of work that you really dislike. 
 Of course you should give yourself a 
 fair trial at a job before throwing it up, 
 because often a man learns to like some- 
 thing that he did n't like when he set out. 
 But you know what I mean — don't 
 keep at it indefinitely. Quit and try 
 something else. Cut and run before it 
 is too late. 
 
m 
 
 The acid ti*>t to apply to your joh is 
 this: If you hail inoiuy enough to live 
 on, would you stay at it without payf 
 If vou ilon*t love it that much, hunt for 
 another — that is, if you arc youn^ an<l 
 free from the respoasihilities and ob- 
 lipitions which govern older men. The 
 greatest succeiijies of the world are 
 "crazy" about their work. Ixx)k at 
 Kdison. I^ook at Paderewski. How 
 those men enjoy their jobs! Can any- 
 Ixnly imapne that they love money more 
 than work ! And vet each — because of 
 
 • 
 
 bis jealous devotion to his work — has 
 been richly paid in money. Both men 
 are great artists. They have found 
 what thev wanted to do and stuck to it. 
 Treat yourself as if vou were an artist. 
 To a certain extent you pnihahly are — 
 in some line — if you will avoid hliams 
 and give yourself fully to your job. 
 
Don 't Believe Every- 
 thing Your Ego 
 Tells You 
 
 TWENTY-THREE years ago 
 Coxey's Army marched to Wash- 
 ington. All the papers were full of it. 
 Mention Coxey to anybody over thirty- 
 five years old and see the understand- 
 ing in his face. Know Coxey and his 
 blooming army? Well, I should say 
 so I Now try Coxey on men and women 
 in the twenties. Just try it. It will 
 open your eyes. Coxey? Who the 
 blazes is Coxey? Looks of confusion 
 and ignorance. 
 
 Coxey, you see, quit advertising. 
 That is, the Coxey publicity ceased, 
 
 59 
 
90 
 
 And the world has filled up with people 
 who never heard of him. Millions and 
 millions of them. 
 
 That IS the way with some advertiien. 
 They speak up a few times and then 
 go back to their factories. There, hy 
 George, we 've told 'em! And thrn old 
 Father Time begins to work. ^Vnd the 
 undertaker. And the parson armed 
 with a marriage license. And the 
 baby carriage. And rheumatism. And, 
 first you know, the world is peopled with 
 new bosses, new Iniyers and new house- 
 keepers who never heard of you. In- 
 creilible! What I — never beard of mc^ 
 No, never heard of t/ou! Sorry to di:i- 
 apjwint you. 
 
 Man is provided with a large sixed 
 ^ga If he did n*t have it be could n*t 
 stand it to live, ^^'itllollt an ego he 
 would pr()l)a!)ly take one look at the 
 moon and go jump in tlic lake. Now 
 
61 
 
 the best thing that an ego does is to 
 give you a fine feeling of permanence. 
 Of course you aren't permanent, and 
 your better sense tells you so. But Mr. 
 Ego keeps trying to make you think 
 you are. What he aims to do is to 
 make you feel comfortable. Nice thing 
 to have around — an ego. You need 
 him in your business. But don't be- 
 lieve everything he tells you. He is 
 the most agreeable and ever-present liar 
 on your premises. 
 
Now that PVe Have 
 
 Bought Them loci's 
 
 liury Than! 
 
 WELL, yoa and I have ^t our 
 Lil)crty Hniuls. In Iniying 
 tin in I sui)|)06e we tiiink wc have con- 
 fcired a great favor on Uncle Sam. 
 And in a way we have. But looking at 
 it atioUier way we are just plain hicky 
 — luckv that a situation arose which 
 compelled us, for at Kast once in our 
 hves, to put soiiuthin^ aiiidc for a rainy 
 day. and to put it a.sidc in the most con- 
 servative and suhd form. The rate of 
 interest may not look \cry bi^ to us^ 
 but the principal ij 9nfe. That is the 
 main thin^. John Hoc^kcfeller may 
 
63 
 
 lose his wits and his coin and have to go 
 to an old men's home, but those govern- 
 ment bonds will still be good. They 
 are backed by Uncle Sam's power to tax 
 the combined assets of the nation. 
 Therein lies the peculiar beauty of a 
 government bond. The Government 
 can do what no private corporation can 
 do — it can go out and compel people to 
 pour in taxes enough to enable the Gov- 
 ernment to meet its obligations. North 
 America would just about slide off into 
 the sea before anything could happen to 
 destroy the value of those bonds. 
 
 The reason I am so emphatic about 
 the importance of a sound investment 
 like this is that I have been thinking 
 about the ordinary man's incapacity in 
 normal times to lay by and hang on to 
 money. A big life insurance company 
 gathered some facts about this not long 
 ago. Here they are: 
 
S4 
 
 Take 100 healthy imu at the age of 
 8d aiid fnllnw t))( 111. At (\5 here if 
 where voii will timl them: 
 m will be dead. 
 1 will l)e ven* rich. 
 
 4 will be wealthy. 
 
 5 will be 8up|M)rtiii^ thenisclvi-s !)y 
 
 work. 
 54 will Ik- <k|Kn«lcnt ujKin fricn(is» 
 rilativt*s or djnrity. 
 
 Or, to sum up, only 5 out of the 64 
 living will \m: "well fixed/' The rest 
 will either not have saved anytliing be- 
 cause of their extrava^ncc, or they will 
 have lost their eapital throu^ trying to 
 make it yield an absurd return. 
 
 In other wonls, this Liberty I^^oan is 
 one of the few direct benefits to be de- 
 rive<l from the Great War — but a real 
 benefit nevertheless. For it encourages 
 all of us to be thrift}*, and to put at least 
 a part of our money into an absolutely 
 
65 
 
 safe place — where its protection does 
 not depend upon any individual but is 
 guaranteed by the combined assets and 
 earning abilities of a whole nation. 
 
 Thank God, therefore, for the Lib- 
 erty Loan. Hide those bonds and try 
 to forget them. They will be pretty 
 little things to dig up and show to the 
 meat man when you are 65. 
 
A Mai! Carrier is Not 
 
 the iJfili/ One Who 
 
 Has to Keep on 
 
 Delivering 
 
 WE were talkin>^ alMHit a young 
 iiKUi Irtc in New York. Said 
 one: **1 '11 tell you why that chap is 
 such a wonder. The minute he winds 
 up one big job he goes after another. 
 He wastes no time patting himielf OQ 
 the back for past achievements. When 
 he finishes putting something orer be 
 turns anmnd and savs to himself in re* 
 
 • 
 
 gard to his own i>erformancc — *0h, that 
 was n't nuicli. I have got to beat that 
 Now I must get to work and really do 
 somcUiing.* 'I'hcn !ic- pitches into a 
 
67 
 
 fresh job as if he had never accomplished 
 a thing in his hfe." 
 
 In other words, you have not only 
 got to do good work, but you have got 
 to repeat and keep on repeating if you 
 want the world to continue to respect 
 you. 
 
 The other day a famous author was 
 telling me how he felt when his first 
 story was accepted. He said that 
 within a few minutes the thought flashed 
 across his mind that he could not stop 
 — but must go on. One good story 
 must be followed by another and an- 
 other and another — else his reputation 
 would die and he would be humiliated. 
 He said that the feeling was not exactly 
 comfortable — ^that the prospect was in 
 a way terrible. * 'Being successful," he 
 said, "is not easy. The successful man 
 advertises to the world that he can do 
 certain things well — and he must go on 
 
making f^nni or buck otT tiic map. It *t 
 a ^ciit .s^iisatian, a great cx|K*ricncc — 
 u ortli almost oiiythiiig — but it in n't a 
 snap." 
 
 It is the aamc way in busineat. Tbe 
 nalfaman wbo seta a high nuu-k has to 
 go right out and licat that mark or suf- 
 fer by coin|)ariM)n with his own rcconL 
 He can't sit tlown in a roi*king chair and 
 devote tlie rest of liis hfc to receiving 
 eongrutuhitions. 
 
 Have you ever sat in a restaurant and 
 compared your job with tliat of a 
 waiter? Try it sometime. Xo matter 
 what your work is I am sure you will see 
 the |X)int if you wntrlj the waiter and 
 think how exactly his job typifies yours. 
 Take, for example, my job— that of an 
 editor. An echtor's job is exactly Hke 
 that of a waiter. He has to go and get 
 something good and bring it in. And 
 after he lias brought it in he has to go 
 
69 
 
 right out and get something more and 
 bring that in. The minute he sits down 
 or stops to talk unnecessarily with the 
 guests, he ceases to give as good service 
 as before. Then the guests who praised 
 him a moment ago begin to growl. And 
 so, almost immediately, he has turned 
 from a good servant into a poor one. 
 
 This fits any line of human activity. 
 A continuous performance is what is 
 wanted. Nothing else counts. 
 
Here is a New Suit of 
 
 Clothes for Some Old 
 Ideas 
 
 Two ii)tcrcsiing cxprenianf htre 
 a)>]>curcd in the vcmacuUr of 
 bii^iiic^!> within a few years — ''selling 
 yourself and **.si*lling the other fel- 
 low.'* To **sell youpiclf" is to e<»nvincc 
 ycnirsclf of the .souiHliu*?i,s of your own 
 ideas; to "sell the other fellow" is to con- 
 vince another that your position is ri^t. 
 He is absolutely sold on himself" and 
 **IIc has sold me completely" arc fre- 
 quently heard among salesmen. 
 
 Whoever voii are, wherever vou are, 
 keep on ''selling the other fellow/' 
 Never let up. When younger nien, or 
 
 70 
 
71 
 
 other men, come into your office, do not 
 depend on them to dig up the story of 
 your greatness. In many cases they 
 won't even know that such a story ex- 
 ists. They will really be impressed only 
 by fresh exhibits of your ability. You 
 must begin with them almost as if you 
 had never achieved anything, and con- 
 vince them day by day that you can do 
 great things. One new example of 
 what you can do is more convincing to 
 your associates than a whole storeroom 
 full of traditions of past performances. 
 Many a young man is not "sold" on his 
 boss, either because the boss is played 
 out and has nothing to "sell," or be- 
 cause he has grown indifferent to the 
 work of "selling." "Stuffed clubs" and 
 "old crabs" are among the expressions 
 used by the young to describe those who 
 have hardened to the point where they 
 think it unnecessary ever again to win 
 
n 
 
 anylKMly or explain anything. '\\vy 
 bccuinc law^^ivcrs — a hi>^h |>ottiion es- 
 jKrcially rrscn'ctl for |K*rsons of great 
 solcninitv who, wlu-n thcv fall, fall far 
 enough to niakc the hight worth seeing. 
 
 Keep on **8elling yourself.*' Keep 
 your mind active and kc^p up faith in 
 what your muul prcKluccs. Have en- 
 thusia!un and self -confidence. Have 
 illusions. Death comes when illusioni 
 pass. There is n*t necessarily a funeral, 
 hut death lias come jast the same. 
 Without illusions you prowl around and 
 Iwre people. Nothing remains to in- 
 terest you. No way remains by which 
 you can interest others. Did you ever 
 stop to consider that |K^)ple are far 
 more inten*sted in your illusions than in 
 anything else alnrnt you? 
 
 Wives must keep on "selling" their 
 husliands, and huslmnds should never 
 stop **jielling" their wives. Children 
 
73 
 
 must "sell" their parents, and parents 
 must "sell" their children. In no other 
 way is confidence between human beings 
 maintained. When the effort to "sell" 
 stops, the tie that binds is broken. 
 
If This be Contempt of 
 
 Court— Send Me 
 
 the Bill 
 
 HrXDREDS of thoustods of 
 iiR'n iu this countn' liavc aii idea 
 timt the Goveriuncnt (citj', county, 
 state or national) is wasteful and in- 
 efficient. Pin a lot of these men down, 
 and you will find that they got that idea 
 from personal ohsenations made when 
 called to do jun' duty. That is alnnit 
 all they know alx>ut the Govern- 
 ment — l)ut that is enouirh to dis^ist 
 them. 
 
 I was recently called as a sjKrial juror 
 on a ca.se here in New York. Alnnit 
 sevcntv-fjve men were called on the 
 
 74 
 
75 
 
 Out of the seventy-five, twelve were to 
 be selected. That is all right and neces- 
 sary. But when we seventy-five men 
 gathered — coming distances ranging 
 from a block to ten or fifteen miles in the 
 midst of a busy Monday morning — it 
 was discovered that the attorney for the 
 defense was not in court. He was sent 
 for and when he appeared it developed 
 that he had not been notified that the 
 case was to be called. He and the 
 Judge and the District Attorney agreed 
 to an adjournment for a few days — and 
 back we all went to our ofiices, having 
 wasted from two to three hours apiece. 
 Remember this, however: Each of us 
 will get two dollars for that day's jury 
 duty — although we did nothing. That 
 makes one hundred and fifty dollars, 
 to say nothing of the time of the court 
 and the officers and the rest. 
 
 A few days later we gathered again 
 
7fl 
 
 itv-fivc men froin ull over 
 New York City. Ancytber ailjcnini- 
 nicnL Mure time wajitcd. One hun- 
 dred and flfty dollars more to be given 
 ui — for no scr\'ice — to say nothing of 
 the money value of the time wasted by 
 all eonetTiied. 
 
 There was another lieautiful little ir- 
 ritation: The elerk who ealletl the n»ll 
 sat at a de^k fully thirty feet from Uie 
 first row of jurors. He growled be- 
 cause he could not hear us answer our 
 names. Did it octnir to him that he 
 might move fonvard to a {Ntsition where 
 he couhl hear l)etter? Of course not. 
 He has the hahit of doing things thus 
 and so, and proluihly nothing could in- 
 duce him to change. He prefers to sit 
 where he is, shout his own lungs out. 
 and strain his ears. 
 
 The whole |>erfonnance was io silly 
 that it was mildly enjnyahle. I tliink 
 
77 
 
 every man in the room was guilty of in- 
 ward contempt of court. 
 
 Consider this additional fact : When 
 we in the jury panel come finally face to 
 face with the defendant, we shall very 
 likely see a poor, flat-headed, mentally 
 sick person, more in need of a doctor 
 than he is of Sing Sing. Personally I 
 hope he will turn out to be a good, 
 healthy, first-class, upstanding crook. 
 Then there may be some satisfaction in 
 taking him in hand. Punishing sick 
 folks is n't much fun. 
 
// 's the Encores People 
 
 Call for that Make 
 L^U^^^S DiJJicuU 
 
 IIIA\'K long considered iiisuiiig a 
 warning to liars — m) here goes. 
 
 We are all tempted to decorate the 
 tnith. Frequently the tnith is no lily — 
 so we like to paint it. 
 
 But we have another human frailty 
 which, particularly when it comes to our 
 wanting to tell a lie, is exceetlingly 
 hotlierMHue, and tliat is our |KH)r mem- 
 ories. We don*t realize how often we 
 tell the same storj* twice — and we don't 
 realize how hard it is to tell the same 
 story twice alike, es|>ei*inlly if it is n't 
 true. Vou riTall the (»ld IltMisier say- 
 ing, "I reckon that a man in order to be 
 
 TS 
 
79 
 
 a good liar must have a wonderful mem- 
 ory." 
 
 There is no doubt that it is easier to 
 tell the truth than it is to tell a lie and 
 then try to repeat it. Test yourself on 
 this. Suppose somebody asks you what 
 size hat you wear. If you tell the truth 
 about it you won't have any trouble an- 
 swering the same question a month from 
 now. But if you lie about it you may 
 not recall the lie you told and so find 
 yourself puzzled. 
 
 That is how this editorial happened to 
 be written — only it was n't the size of a 
 man's hat that got him into trouble — but 
 the size of his salary. A friend of mine 
 had two interviews with a man whom he 
 was considering for an important job. 
 The interviews were three months apart. 
 At the first interview the man was asked 
 what salary he got. He mentioned a 
 certain figure. At the second interview 
 
the tame question was asked and a dif- 
 ferent figure was mentioned. It so 
 hftpi>rncd that my friend's conneeti<His 
 wtrr such that he omiIcI ^-t nt the truth. 
 He (lid ^*t at it — nnd fcuind that )K)th 
 fibres were lies. Tliat ended the ne- 
 f(«)tiAtion.s f(»r the new joh. 
 
 As a race we human Ix-in^ are pretty 
 clever. We can move about the nmn- 
 key cage (called the world) with con- 
 siderahle ability. Hut the liars* trapexe 
 is beyond the reach <»f most »»f us. We 
 can*t swing up to it without great dan- 
 gcr of falling and getting hurt 
 
If Your Ego Bothers 
 
 You — Go Look at 
 
 the Stars 
 
 A CUBE one seven-thousandth ol 
 an inch in diameter is a pretty 
 small object. It would not choke a 
 mosquito. You could not see it unless 
 you used a miscroscope. Possibly, if it 
 were made of the right kind of stuff, 
 and if it flew into your eye, you might 
 feel it. But even that is doubtful. 
 
 Yet John A. Brashear, the great 
 yet modest Pittsburgh scientist, shows 
 that a little cube just that big float- 
 ing around in Lake Erie takes up 
 exactly as much room in the lake, by 
 comparison, as our earth fills in the 
 space around us, known and measured 
 by astronomers, the boundaries of 
 
 81 
 
which arc only as far away an thf» ncar- 
 e?il ?»lar. 
 
 This recalls Mark Twam :» great 
 slor>-, •Captain Stomificlcrs Visit to 
 Heaven/* whtTtin arc rccordcil the diffi- 
 culties whieh the captain confn»ntetl in 
 the next world wlien he trieil to explain 
 where he came from. He liaid that San 
 Franci-scfi was his native place. Xo- 
 IkkIv in heaven h:ul heard of San Fran- 
 cisco. Thru he nanieil California, and. 
 ineetin>^ with no res|K)nsc, he went on 
 with eonsiderahle irritation to mention 
 the Tnited States and America. Xo- 
 UkIv had heard <»f tliem. Finally he 
 claimed the earth as his former home, 
 and at last, after a long search tlmnigh 
 the records of heaven, it was discovered 
 that anic)!i>; the hillions ii|M»n hillions of 
 stars, worlds, constellations and planets 
 there was, in the <liisty tomes, a slight 
 reference to an insignitieanl s|)cck 
 
83 
 
 known in heaven as The Wart, and rec- 
 ognized by Stormfield as our good old 
 Mother Earth. 
 
 In this connection it is also well to 
 remember that the wonders of time are 
 as great as the wonders of space. No- 
 body knows or can even guess how long 
 this Big Show has been running. Any- 
 way, it is a very old show as well as a 
 very large one. 
 
 I am glad that Mr. Brashear has 
 brought this matter to our attention 
 again. It is a good thing once in a 
 while to be set right on our comparative 
 importance in the scheme of things. 
 At this time it is an especially welcome 
 and refreshing bit of comment. For 
 one thing, it makes the Emperor of 
 Germany seem less important. Also, it 
 will help us to pass through the egotism 
 and dogmatism of political campaigns 
 with better perspective and more 
 
huliuir. Furthennore» the hardihipt 
 we have to endure may be nothing Cmii- 
 pare^l with those which arc pestering tin: 
 inhaljilaiilii of otlicr worlds, who, for all 
 wc kn<»w, rnav Ixr e\'cn more sclf-ccn- 
 tcrcd and senjiitivc tlian we — thougli 
 this sn*u\s hardly |>ossiblc. 
 
 '1 : kiiowlctlgc of the stars helps to 
 keep one's ego in pnjjK-r rejitraiiil is deni- 
 onslratctl in tlie case of Mr. Brashear 
 himself. ft»r in ail Piltshurgh there 
 i.Hn'l a man with less ego than lie, 
 TIkv all call him 'rnclc John." Any- 
 iMMly. from the mayor down to tJic 
 tiniest newslxiy <m Smithtield .Street, 
 will swear to you that he is the biggest 
 man in tlie cit)'— and the simplest and 
 most attractive. Street-car motomien 
 and i-onductcjrs spy the old gentleman a 
 hlcK'k away and hold up tralFic (or the 
 privilege of getting him as a passenger. 
 lliey love him because he loves them — 
 
85 
 
 and because arrogance and superiority 
 are totally absent from his make-up. 
 From studying the stars "Uncle John" 
 has learned humility. 
 
Money Talks — lint 
 
 There arc Other 
 
 Speakers 
 
 How would you like • $25,000 • 
 year jcib f I suppose you think 
 vou would likr it n lot. But would vou 
 like it f Would y<ni enjoy the work 
 voii would have to do in order to earn 
 that nmrh salar)? Would you be will- 
 ing to |>ay what it c^osts to become a 
 $S5,000 a year man f 
 
 This brin^ us to an interesting fact 
 about the human animal — namely, his 
 way of prrt ending sometimes to am- 
 bitions which he does not possess. Ask 
 almost any man in the United States 
 to-day whether he would like a job pay- 
 
87 
 
 ing $25,000 a year, and he will tell you 
 yes — vehemently and with evident sin- 
 cerity. But in ninety-nine cases out of 
 one hundred he would not really mean 
 it. He would like the money — yes — 
 but to earn it by giving a corporation 
 the price which it asks in return for 
 that much money would not suit him at 
 all. 
 
 In spite of the apparent lure of 
 money, the great mass of human beings 
 are not lured by it so much as they are 
 lured by other things. They think 
 they are, but they aren't. Men get 
 their orders from within themselves, not 
 from without. And often the inward 
 desires which control men are so power- 
 ful that they make the "almighty dol- 
 lar" look mighty weak. Frequently 
 laziness is in command, in which case a 
 rocking chair seems more valuable than 
 the presidency of a railroad. Some- 
 
88 
 
 tunes whisky Is Uic U>hs. Wc all know 
 men who sacrifice giMnl inoMnt s in unlvr 
 to liavc lots of time for drink. In mil- 
 lions of oilier casvH men dchUTatcly 
 choose jobs whidi do not pay well in 
 money, although they pay enormously 
 in other forms of satisfaction. Men are 
 ooostantly deciding ngiiinst the scram* 
 lile for money and in favor of a quiet 
 life, or a life devoted to teaching or sci- 
 ence or pul)lir ser\ice, or a life tlevotetl 
 to some otlier UM*ful enthusiasm which 
 lias no si>eeial cash value. 
 
 11)c truth is that most men luvc no 
 taste for the duties that go with the big- 
 gest salaries. The man who is worth 
 3?25,()00 a year to a wrjHiration nuist be 
 willing to work evenings nnd holidays. 
 lie must Ik? ready to upset all |)ersonal 
 plans if buiiiness culls him. He must be 
 ready at a moment's notice to give up 
 Stniflay with his family and sjiend it in 
 
89 
 
 a railway trip to another city for a Mon- 
 day morning conference. In his office 
 he must also bear the brunt. He must 
 be eager to take responsibility and be 
 ready to make hard and unpleasant de- 
 cisions. He must have real zest for 
 tough, irritating problems. And he 
 cannot hide behind others. Big pay en- 
 velopes go only to those down in front 
 where the eggs are thrown. 
 
Considering Who 
 
 Grandpa rcas We're 
 
 \ut So Bad 
 
 WHEN I was about ten yean 
 old 1 went to an auimal bhow 
 where there were tiftcen or twenty mon- 
 keys, mostly small, in one cage. lUit 
 amon^ them there wa.s one ver\' large 
 monkey, f<nir or \\\v times as big as any 
 of the others. I don't know who in- 
 vitee! him. or how he eame to lie there, 
 hut he madf his prescnee felt, a^ we sliall 
 see. 
 
 When feeding time eame. the keeper 
 apiK*are<l with a large hiindle of cah- 
 hage leaves which he thrrw into the cage, 
 a few at a time. I then saw the ad van- 
 
91 
 
 tage of being a large monkey in a cage 
 filled with small monkeys, for as fast as 
 the keeper threw the leaves into the cage 
 the big monkey grabbed them and held 
 onto them. When some of the little 
 monkeys criticized him, he merely 
 showed his teeth and went on with his 
 work. 
 
 After he had acquired all the leaves 
 that had been thrown into the cage he 
 gathered the whole supply together into 
 a pile and sat on top of the pile. Then 
 he ate all that he wanted — and perhaps 
 more than he wanted. He did not eat 
 all the leaves that had been passed into 
 the cage because his stomach would not 
 hold so many, but he did his best. After 
 he had swallowed what he could, he lost 
 interest, yawned and walked away. 
 Then the little monkeys scampered to 
 the remaining pile of leaves and got 
 what was left — but not without all sorts 
 
of bickerings and inequalities among 
 thcmaelvcs. 
 
 Although Uk' Im^ nxnikcy niatic hiin- 
 aeir un|>o|)iilar, Ixith inside And fiutMik- 
 the cage, he was not .si-nsitive alNHit it. 
 Indii'd, why .should he l>c'f Inside the 
 cage, where he iindcrstcxHl the Ungtiage, 
 size and strength were Uie only things 
 worth having. There was n't a monkey 
 on the premises that did not really envy 
 him — not a monkey that did not wish to 
 be like hint. Outiiide the cage were 
 a lot of two-leggt^l gnnnlilers resem- 
 hVmii nionkevs — hut why w()rr>- about 
 tlieir unintelligible niutterings, espe- 
 cially since they were safely sliut off 
 • • • 
 
 fnim the cabbage leaves by good sub- 
 stantial Imrs! 
 
 Perhaps this little sXnry of !»rute force 
 antl lira/en selfishness will remind you 
 of some huinnii In-iiig who makes nn 
 occasional bad hhowiiig. l)on*t Ik* too 
 
93 
 
 hard in your judgments, however. Be 
 patient. You must not blame men if 
 they show monkey characteristics once 
 in a while. You know what that fa- 
 mous high-brow Darwin and his suc- 
 cessors have taught us — that men and 
 monkeys descended from the same an- 
 cestor, namely, a certain brand of ape. 
 The work of transforming us from apes 
 began four or five million years ago, but 
 I would not go so far as to say that the 
 job has been entirely finished. Lots of 
 time will be required. It takes more 
 than a jiffy to get off one's all fours. 
 This word "human," you know, is a 
 comparatively recent degree that has 
 been conferred upon us. 
 
It 2S Hard to Tell How 
 
 Niunh a Youn^ 
 
 Skull is 
 
 Wl I AT lias become of UlanciiAni 
 KiplfV JaiiK*sf I/4>ng api \\v 
 was a hi^h-srh(M»l rlAssiiiatc of mine out 
 ill Ohio, and now he is h)st. The oUkt 
 day I found that thi-y were advertising 
 for his post-<)fY{(X! aihlress in the villa^pc 
 pa]>er haek home. It sct^ms that for 
 years and years he clerked in a store in 
 fJrand Uaj)ids, after whieh he ti>rfitene<l 
 up his iK'lt strap and made a dive into 
 the Gnat West — with what success n(v 
 bo<ly knows. 
 
 \Vtil, sir, T could not believe it. 
 lilanchard Uipley James lost? Never! 
 
 •u 
 
95 
 
 Why, he was the boy we voted as the 
 one among us with the brightest future. 
 The greatest things were predicted for 
 him. He looked Hke Daniel Webster, 
 kept his hair brushed, beat us all at our 
 studies, took more interest in school 
 than anybody — and, above all, how he 
 could wag his jaw! He was the best 
 speaker of pieces that ever walked up 
 the steps to the rostrum of the Second 
 Congregational Church. On gradua- 
 tion night he was our prize exhibit. 
 The rest of us looked foolish beside him, 
 and felt foolish. Our only pride lay in 
 the fact that for the moment our names 
 were printed on the program with his 
 and we were going to receive just as 
 good an imitation sheepskin diploma as 
 he. But of course we expected that on 
 the morning after graduation the gulf 
 between him and us would begin to 
 widen, and would increase until he 
 
06 
 
 would Ik* talking tin tlic floor of Uie 
 L'liitrd Statfs Sciinto, and wc, with our 
 wiviii and childrvn, wcxdd Ik* sittin^^ in 
 the visitors' ^illcry Imppy in our 
 membership in the **I-knrw-!nm-w!i<r) 
 Chihr 
 
 Hut the whole thin>( hju shifted. 
 You can pn^c the United States Sen- 
 ate, and even the House of Kepresenta- 
 tives, and you won't find him. He is 
 not there. Hlanehard simply did not 
 come thnui^h with the uallnp. 
 
 What ia the answer f The answer is 
 that vouth is alwnvs a mvster>% You 
 simply cannot |)iek winners that early. 
 You cannot distinguish iK'tween the 
 able and the stupid, the slip|HTy and the 
 honest, the playful and the vicious, the 
 imitative and the ori^riital. the weak and 
 the strong, the a^>n^ssive and the sen- 
 ile, the ambitious and the complacent. 
 Youth is a period of uncertainty and 
 
97 
 
 hope. This is one reason why fathers 
 and mothers are so happy over their chil- 
 dren. Nobody knows what great sur- 
 prise is in store. The slowest-appear- 
 ing child in the family may {may, mind 
 you) turn out to be the wonder of the 
 world. At any rate, the neighbors had 
 best not point the finger of scorn — not 
 yet, not yet! For if they do they may 
 have to take it back. 
 
 And so, clear up to commencement 
 night, and for some time after, fathers 
 and mothers can claim great things for 
 every child in the family — and nobody 
 will dare dispute them. Of course, the 
 world will finally call for a show-down, 
 but when it does those who might be in- 
 terested in the results are themselves 
 lost, or scattered so far that it would 
 take an explorer to find them and carry 
 them the news. 
 
 Some boys die in youth — thus pre- 
 
fcn'in>( forever the iiiysier)' as to Uicir 
 hidden taleiiU. rsuullv it is said of 
 hUi'li that thc-y were hri^^ht mid remark- 
 able, with a K^^'at future Inrfore them. 
 We all uorship jiuixf?4» — even Kiting to 
 far as to worship it where it docs rv>f 
 yet exist. 
 
 So get your uliite vest ironed and lie 
 ready for tlu- ^rachiatin^ exercises when 
 they e<»ine. \'ou cannot tell who will be 
 there. It may Ih* the coming Thomas 
 A. K<lison, or it may l)e the coming con- 
 ductor on the Kast C'olh'i^ Street car 
 line. 
 
/ JVill Hang' This on 
 
 Balboa — Because He 
 
 Has Had His Fun 
 
 and is Dead 
 
 THE other night I read in my eve- 
 ning paper that Balboa had dis- 
 covered the Pacific Ocean four hun- 
 dred and three years ago that day. At 
 first I swallowed the statement — as any 
 human being in good and regular stand- 
 ing would be likely to do. But the mo- 
 ment I began to think it over I experi- 
 enced an inward chuckle. Who gave 
 Balboa the idea that he was the first to 
 find the Pacific? And what made the 
 rest of us pin a medal on him for an 
 honor he never deserved? Don't we 
 
 99 
 
100 
 
 know— if wc stop to coowdcr— Uiat the 
 I'adfic Occaii wm diioovcrcd and for- 
 gotten l)y countless >c^-ncnitioii» before 
 Halljoa was bomf The tnitli is that 
 Balboa, instead of UinK the first to dis- 
 cover the Pacific, was one of the last 
 
 We arc wonderful creatures— wc hu- 
 man l)cinffs— wlien wc k>vc way fully to 
 lla egt) that is in us. Wc imagine tliat 
 the whole earthly show began with us, 
 and that it is going t«> end with us. We 
 think our experieiuxHi are new. pecidiar 
 and exclusive. I f our teeth ache we say 
 that our teeth are es|K*cially sensitive. 
 When we compare notes on the advan- 
 tages of various shaving utensils wc say 
 we can't use this or that because our 
 beards are particidarly stiff. If wc 
 shiver on a raw day we say that tec arc 
 peculiarly susceptible to ctild— that no- 
 bodv ever suffers with the ct»ld as xcc do. 
 I know a man who saw Joe Jefferson 
 
101 
 
 play Rip Van Winkle. I saw him play- 
 it, and so did millions of others. Jef- 
 ferson played the part 6,000 times. 
 But to hear my friend talk you would 
 think that Joe never really rose up and 
 became equal to the role except once — 
 and that was the night he saw it. 
 
 Yes, we like the feeling that we are 
 the first — the only onlys — the favored 
 few. We never get it into our heads 
 that the earth is a very old apartment — 
 inhabited by untold generations of ten- 
 ants, each of which repapers and re- 
 paints the place in an effort to prove 
 that it owns the premises. Of course 
 we admit academically that there were 
 others before us, but we don't honestly 
 beheve it. Take, for example, Ham- 
 murabi, Rameses, Ptolemy and Plu- 
 tarch. Those were men of our own com- 
 parative generation, yet they are not 
 real to us. Down in our hearts we 
 
w. iiUi never credit them with Imving M 
 tivc teeth as wc have. And it U a 
 certainty that they never enjoyed any- 
 thing a« «"i»^'l> «^ ^^' ^^^ ^''^ ^^- 
 suffer with tlic c<»ld. 
 
 And yet tins wonderful little ego is 
 the only tiling we have worth poiaeit- 
 ing. If, clear reader, your name be 
 IUnr>- Smith, the fates when they «et 
 you down in our midst might well have 
 instnictrd you a.s follows: 
 
 *'Xow, Henry, rememher that there 
 is nothing new in the world hut ytni. 
 All the rest is old. Here arc the old 
 jfrease-stained hlocks for you to play 
 ^vith— the old ideas and the old facts— 
 which billions of men have played with 
 Infore vou. and built into stnictures 
 which lx)re the stamp of their own 
 individuality. Build. Henry, build. 
 Make the best out of the materials that 
 you can. But, above all. put yaunelf 
 
103 
 
 ■^— "— ■"• 
 
 into the work. Don't imitate, don't 
 copy. Your orly chance is to be your- 
 self. What you do is the best that you 
 can contribute. You can't add any- 
 thing to the show but Henry Smith. 
 Make sure that you really add him." 
 
 And there you are. 
 
 Egos are all right. They are the best 
 thing we have — ^our most valuable asset. 
 And yet they furnish the biggest laugh.