bread overhead by fritz leiber _the staff of life suddenly and disconcertingly sprouted wings --and mankind had to eat crow!_ illustrated by wood as a blisteringly hot but guaranteed weather-controlled future summer day dawned on the mississippi valley, the walking mills of puffy products ("spike to loaf in one operation!") began to tread delicately on their centipede legs across the wheat fields of kansas. the walking mills resembled fat metal serpents, rather larger than those chinese paper dragons animated by files of men in procession. sensory robot devices in their noses informed them that the waiting wheat had reached ripe perfection. as they advanced, their heads swung lazily from side to side, very much like snakes, gobbling the yellow grain. in their throats, it was threshed, the chaff bundled and burped aside for pickup by the crawl trucks of a chemical corporation, the kernels quick-dried and blown along into the mighty chests of the machines. there the tireless mills ground the kernels to flour, which was instantly sifted, the bran being packaged and dropped like the chaff for pickup. a cluster of tanks which gave the metal serpents a decidedly humpbacked appearance added water, shortening, salt and other ingredients, some named and some not. the dough was at the same time infused with gas from a tank conspicuously labeled "carbon dioxide" ("no yeast creatures in your bread!"). [illustration] thus instantly risen, the dough was clipped into loaves and shot into radionic ovens forming the midsections of the metal serpents. there the bread was baked in a matter of seconds, a fierce heat-front browning the crusts, and the piping-hot loaves sealed in transparent plastic bearing the proud puffyloaf emblem (two cherubs circling a floating loaf) and ejected onto the delivery platform at each serpent's rear end, where a cluster of pickup machines, like hungry piglets, snatched at the loaves with hygienic claws. a few loaves would be hurried off for the day's consumption, the majority stored for winter in strategically located mammoth deep freezes. but now, behold a wonder! as loaves began to appear on the delivery platform of the first walking mill to get into action, they did not linger on the conveyor belt, but rose gently into the air and slowly traveled off down-wind across the hot rippling fields. * * * * * the robot claws of the pickup machines clutched in vain, and, not noticing the difference, proceeded carefully to stack emptiness, tier by tier. one errant loaf, rising more sluggishly than its fellows, was snagged by a thrusting claw. the machine paused, clumsily wiped off the injured loaf, set it aside--where it bobbed on one corner, unable to take off again--and went back to the work of storing nothingness. a flock of crows rose from the trees of a nearby shelterbelt as the flight of loaves approached. the crows swooped to investigate and then suddenly scattered, screeching in panic. the helicopter of a hangoverish sunday traveler bound for wichita shied very similarly from the brown fliers and did not return for a second look. a black-haired housewife spied them over her back fence, crossed herself and grabbed her walkie-talkie from the laundry basket. seconds later, the yawning correspondent of a regional newspaper was jotting down the lead of a humorous news story which, recalling the old flying-saucer scares, stated that now apparently bread was to be included in the mad aerial tea party. the congregation of an open-walled country church, standing up to recite the most familiar of christian prayers, had just reached the petition for daily sustenance, when a sub-flight of the loaves, either forced down by a vagrant wind or lacking the natural buoyancy of the rest, came coasting silently as the sunbeams between the graceful pillars at the altar end of the building. meanwhile, the main flight, now augmented by other bread flocks from scores and hundreds of walking mills that had started work a little later, mounted slowly and majestically into the cirrus-flecked upper air, where a steady wind was blowing strongly toward the east. about one thousand miles farther on in that direction, where a cluster of stratosphere-tickling towers marked the location of the metropolis of newnew york, a tender scene was being enacted in the pressurized penthouse managerial suite of puffy products. megera winterly, secretary in chief to the managerial board and referred to by her underlings as the blonde icicle, was dealing with the advances of roger ("racehorse") snedden, assistant secretary to the board and often indistinguishable from any passing office boy. "why don't you jump out the window, roger, remembering to shut the airlock after you?" the golden glacier said in tones not unkind. "when are your high-strung, thoroughbred nerves going to accept the fact that i would never consider marriage with a business inferior? you have about as much chance as a starving ukrainian kulak now that moscow's clapped on the interdict." * * * * * roger's voice was calm, although his eyes were feverishly bright, as he replied, "a lot of things are going to be different around here, meg, as soon as the board is forced to admit that only my quick thinking made it possible to bring the name of puffyloaf in front of the whole world." "puffyloaf could do with a little of that," the business girl observed judiciously. "the way sales have been plummeting, it won't be long before the government deeds our desks to the managers of fairy bread and asks us to take the big jump. but just where does your quick thinking come into this, mr. snedden? you can't be referring to the helium--that was rose thinker's brainwave." she studied him suspiciously. "you've birthed another promotional bumble, roger. i can see it in your eyes. i only hope it's not as big a one as when you put the martian ambassador on 3d and he thanked you profusely for the gross of puffyloaves, assuring you that he'd never slept on a softer mattress in all his life on two planets." "listen to me, meg. today--yes, today!--you're going to see the board eating out of my hand." "hah! i guarantee you won't have any fingers left. you're bold enough now, but when mr. gryce and those two big machines come through that door--" "now wait a minute, meg--" "hush! they're coming now!" roger leaped three feet in the air, but managed to land without a sound and edged toward his stool. through the dilating iris of the door strode phineas t. gryce, flanked by rose thinker and tin philosopher. the man approached the conference table in the center of the room with measured pace and gravely expressionless face. the rose-tinted machine on his left did a couple of impulsive pirouettes on the way and twittered a greeting to meg and roger. the other machine quietly took the third of the high seats and lifted a claw at meg, who now occupied a stool twice the height of roger's. "miss winterly, please--our theme." the blonde icicle's face thawed into a little-girl smile as she chanted bubblingly: "_made up of tiny wheaten motes and reinforced with sturdy oats, it rises through the air and floats- the bread on which all terra dotes!_" * * * * * "thank you, miss winterly," said tin philosopher. "though a purely figurative statement, that bit about rising through the air always gets me--here." he rapped his midsection, which gave off a high musical _clang_. "ladies--" he inclined his photocells toward rose thinker and meg--"and gentlemen. this is a historic occasion in old puffy's long history, the inauguration of the helium-filled loaf ('so light it almost floats away!') in which that inert and heaven-aspiring gas replaces old-fashioned carbon dioxide. later, there will be kudos for rose thinker, whose bright relays genius-sparked the idea, and also for roger snedden, who took care of the details. "by the by, racehorse, that was a brilliant piece of work getting the helium out of the government--they've been pretty stuffy lately about their monopoly. but first i want to throw wide the casement in your minds that opens on the long view of things." rose thinker spun twice on her chair and opened her photocells wide. tin philosopher coughed to limber up the diaphragm of his speaker and continued: "ever since the first cave wife boasted to her next-den neighbor about the superior paleness and fluffiness of her tortillas, mankind has sought lighter, whiter bread. indeed, thinkers wiser than myself have equated the whole upward course of culture with this poignant quest. yeast was a wonderful discovery--for its primitive day. sifting the bran and wheat germ from the flour was an even more important advance. early bleaching and preserving chemicals played their humble parts. "for a while, barbarous faddists--blind to the deeply spiritual nature of bread, which is recognized by all great religions--held back our march toward perfection with their hair-splitting insistence on the vitamin content of the wheat germ, but their case collapsed when tasteless colorless substitutes were triumphantly synthesized and introduced into the loaf, which for flawless purity, unequaled airiness and sheer intangible goodness was rapidly becoming mankind's supreme gustatory experience." [illustration] "i wonder what the stuff tastes like," rose thinker said out of a clear sky. "i wonder what taste tastes like," tin philosopher echoed dreamily. recovering himself, he continued: "then, early in the twenty-first century, came the epochal researches of everett whitehead, puffyloaf chemist, culminating in his paper 'the structural bubble in cereal masses' and making possible the baking of airtight bread twenty times stronger (for its weight) than steel and of a lightness that would have been incredible even to the advanced chemist-bakers of the twentieth century--a lightness so great that, besides forming the backbone of our own promotion, it has forever since been capitalized on by our conscienceless competitors of fairy bread with their enduring slogan: 'it makes ghost toast'." "that's a beaut, all right, that ecto-dough blurb," rose thinker admitted, bugging her photocells sadly. "wait a sec. how about?- "_there'll be bread overhead when you're dead- it is said._" * * * * * phineas t. gryce wrinkled his nostrils at the pink machine as if he smelled her insulation smoldering. he said mildly, "a somewhat unhappy jingle, rose, referring as it does to the end of the customer as consumer. moreover, we shouldn't overplay the figurative 'rises through the air' angle. what inspired you?" she shrugged. "i don't know--oh, yes, i do. i was remembering one of the workers' songs we machines used to chant during the big strike- "_work and pray, live on hay. you'll get pie in the sky when you die- it's a lie!_ "i don't know why we chanted it," she added. "we didn't want pie--or hay, for that matter. and machines don't pray, except tibetan prayer wheels." phineas t. gryce shook his head. "labor relations are another topic we should stay far away from. however, dear rose, i'm glad you keep trying to outjingle those dirty crooks at fairy bread." he scowled, turning back his attention to tin philosopher. "i get whopping mad, old machine, whenever i hear that other slogan of theirs, the discriminatory one--'untouched by robot claws.' just because they employ a few filthy androids in their factories!" tin philosopher lifted one of his own sets of bright talons. "thanks, p.t. but to continue my historical resume, the next great advance in the baking art was the substitution of purified carbon dioxide, recovered from coal smoke, for the gas generated by yeast organisms indwelling in the dough and later killed by the heat of baking, their corpses remaining _in situ_. but even purified carbon dioxide is itself a rather repugnant gas, a product of metabolism whether fast or slow, and forever associated with those life processes which are obnoxious to the fastidious." here the machine shuddered with delicate clinkings. "therefore, we of puffyloaf are taking today what may be the ultimate step toward purity: we are aerating our loaves with the noble gas helium, an element which remains virginal in the face of all chemical temptations and whose slim molecules are eleven times lighter than obese carbon dioxide--yes, noble uncontaminable helium, which, if it be a kind of ash, is yet the ash only of radioactive burning, accomplished or initiated entirely on the sun, a safe 93 million miles from this planet. let's have a cheer for the helium loaf!" * * * * * without changing expression, phineas t. gryce rapped the table thrice in solemn applause, while the others bowed their heads. "thanks, t.p.," p.t. then said. "and now for the moment of truth. miss winterly, how is the helium loaf selling?" the business girl clapped on a pair of earphones and whispered into a lapel mike. her gaze grew abstracted as she mentally translated flurries of brief squawks into coherent messages. suddenly a single vertical furrow creased her matchlessly smooth brow. "it isn't, mr. gryce!" she gasped in horror. "fairy bread is outselling puffyloaves by an infinity factor. so far this morning, _there has not been one single delivery of puffyloaves to any sales spot_! complaints about non-delivery are pouring in from both walking stores and sessile shops." "mr. snedden!" gryce barked. "what bug in the new helium process might account for this delay?" roger was on his feet, looking bewildered. "i can't imagine, sir, unless--just possibly--there's been some unforeseeable difficulty involving the new metal-foil wrappers." "metal-foil wrappers? were _you_ responsible for those?" "yes, sir. last-minute recalculations showed that the extra lightness of the new loaf might be great enough to cause drift during stackage. drafts in stores might topple sales pyramids. metal-foil wrappers, by their added weight, took care of the difficulty." "and you ordered them without consulting the board?" "yes, sir. there was hardly time and--" "why, you fool! i noticed that order for metal-foil wrappers, assumed it was some sub-secretary's mistake, and canceled it last night!" roger snedden turned pale. "you canceled it?" he quavered. "and told them to go back to the lighter plastic wrappers?" "of course! just what is behind all this, mr. snedden? _what_ recalculations were you trusting, when our physicists had demonstrated months ago that the helium loaf was safely stackable in light airs and gentle breezes--winds up to beaufort's scale 3. _why_ should a change from heavier to lighter wrappers result in complete non-delivery?" * * * * * roger snedden's paleness became tinged with an interesting green. he cleared his throat and made strange gulping noises. tin philosopher's photocells focused on him calmly, rose thinker's with unfeigned excitement. p.t. gryce's frown grew blacker by the moment, while megera winterly's venus-mask showed an odd dawning of dismay and awe. she was getting new squawks in her earphones. "er ... ah ... er...." roger said in winning tones. "well, you see, the fact is that i...." "hold it," meg interrupted crisply. "triple-urgent from public relations, safety division. tulsa-topeka aero-express makes emergency landing after being buffeted in encounter with vast flight of objects first described as brown birds, although no failures reported in airway's electronic anti-bird fences. after grounding safely near emporia--no fatalities--pilot's windshield found thinly plastered with soft white-and-brown material. emblems on plastic wrappers embedded in material identify it incontrovertibly as an undetermined number of puffyloaves cruising at three thousand feet!" eyes and photocells turned inquisitorially upon roger snedden. he went from green to puffyloaf white and blurted: "all right, i did it, but it was the only way out! yesterday morning, due to the ukrainian crisis, the government stopped sales and deliveries of all strategic stockpiled materials, including helium gas. puffy's new program of advertising and promotion, based on the lighter loaf, was already rolling. there was only one thing to do, there being only one other gas comparable in lightness to helium. i diverted the necessary quantity of hydrogen gas from the hydrogenated oils section of our magna-margarine division and substituted it for the helium." "you substituted ... hydrogen ... for the ... helium?" phineas t. gryce faltered in low mechanical tones, taking four steps backward. "hydrogen is twice as light as helium," tin philosopher remarked judiciously. "and many times cheaper--did you know that?" roger countered feebly. "yes, i substituted hydrogen. the metal-foil wrapping would have added just enough weight to counteract the greater buoyancy of the hydrogen loaf. but--" "so, when this morning's loaves began to arrive on the delivery platforms of the walking mills...." tin philosopher left the remark unfinished. "exactly," roger agreed dismally. "let me ask you, mr. snedden," gryce interjected, still in low tones, "if you expected people to jump to the kitchen ceiling for their puffybread after taking off the metal wrapper, or reach for the sky if they happened to unwrap the stuff outdoors?" "mr. gryce," roger said reproachfully, "you have often assured me that what people do with puffybread after they buy it is no concern of ours." "i seem to recall," rose thinker chirped somewhat unkindly, "that dictum was created to answer inquiries after roger put the famous sculptures-in-miniature artist on 3d and he testified that he always molded his first attempts from puffybread, one jumbo loaf squeezing down to approximately the size of a peanut." * * * * * her photocells dimmed and brightened. "oh, boy--hydrogen! the loaf's unwrapped. after a while, in spite of the crust-seal, a little oxygen diffuses in. an explosive mixture. housewife in curlers and kimono pops a couple slices in the toaster. boom!" the three human beings in the room winced. tin philosopher kicked her under the table, while observing, "so you see, roger, that the non-delivery of the hydrogen loaf carries some consolations. and i must confess that one aspect of the affair gives me great satisfaction, not as a board member but as a private machine. you have at last made a reality of the 'rises through the air' part of puffybread's theme. they can't ever take that away from you. by now, half the inhabitants of the great plains must have observed our flying loaves rising high." phineas t. gryce shot a frightened look at the west windows and found his full voice. "stop the mills!" he roared at meg winterly, who nodded and whispered urgently into her mike. "a sensible suggestion," tin philosopher said. "but it comes a trifle late in the day. if the mills are still walking and grinding, approximately seven billion puffyloaves are at this moment cruising eastward over middle america. remember that a six-month supply for deep-freeze is involved and that the current consumption of bread, due to its matchless airiness, is eight and one-half loaves per person per day." phineas t. gryce carefully inserted both hands into his scanty hair, feeling for a good grip. he leaned menacingly toward roger who, chin resting on the table, regarded him apathetically. "hold it!" meg called sharply. "flock of multiple-urgents coming in. news liaison: information bureaus swamped with flying-bread inquiries. aero-expresslines: clear our airways or face law suit. u. s. army: why do loaves flame when hit by incendiary bullets? u. s. customs: if bread intended for export, get export license or face prosecution. russian consulate in chicago: advise on destination of bread-lift. and some kansas church is accusing us of a hoax inciting to blasphemy, of faking miracles--i don't know _why_." the business girl tore off her headphones. "roger snedden," she cried with a hysteria that would have dumfounded her underlings, "you've brought the name of puffyloaf in front of the whole world, all right! now do something about the situation!" roger nodded obediently. but his pallor increased a shade, the pupils of his eyes disappeared under the upper lids, and his head burrowed beneath his forearms. "oh, boy," rose thinker called gayly to tin philosopher, "this looks like the start of a real crisis session! did you remember to bring spare batteries?" * * * * * meanwhile, the monstrous flight of puffyloaves, filling midwestern skies as no small fliers had since the days of the passenger pigeon, soared steadily onward. private fliers approached the brown and glistening bread-front in curiosity and dipped back in awe. aero-expresslines organized sightseeing flights along the flanks. planes of the government forestry and agricultural services and 'copters bearing the puffyloaf emblem hovered on the fringes, watching developments and waiting for orders. a squadron of supersonic fighters hung menacingly above. the behavior of birds varied considerably. most fled or gave the loaves a wide berth, but some bolder species, discovering the minimal nutritive nature of the translucent brown objects, attacked them furiously with beaks and claws. hydrogen diffusing slowly through the crusts had now distended most of the sealed plastic wrappers into little balloons, which ruptured, when pierced, with disconcerting _pops_. below, neck-craning citizens crowded streets and back yards, cranks and cultists had a field day, while local and national governments raged indiscriminately at puffyloaf and at each other. rumors that a fusion weapon would be exploded in the midst of the flying bread drew angry protests from conservationists and a flood of telefax pamphlets titled "h-loaf or h-bomb?" stockholm sent a mystifying note of praise to the united nations food organization. delhi issued nervous denials of a millet blight that no one had heard of until that moment and reaffirmed india's ability to feed her population with no outside help except the usual. radio moscow asserted that the kremlin would brook no interference in its treatment of the ukrainians, jokingly referred to the flying bread as a farce perpetrated by mad internationalists inhabiting cloud cuckoo land, added contradictory references to airborne bread booby-trapped by capitalist gangsters, and then fell moodily silent on the whole topic. radio venus reported to its winged audience that earth's inhabitants were establishing food depots in the upper air, preparatory to taking up permanent aerial residence "such as we have always enjoyed on venus." * * * * * newnew york made feverish preparations for the passage of the flying bread. tickets for sightseeing space in skyscrapers were sold at high prices; cold meats and potted spreads were hawked to viewers with the assurance that they would be able to snag the bread out of the air and enjoy a historic sandwich. phineas t. gryce, escaping from his own managerial suite, raged about the city, demanding general cooperation in the stretching of great nets between the skyscrapers to trap the errant loaves. he was captured by tin philosopher, escaped again, and was found posted with oxygen mask and submachine gun on the topmost spire of puffyloaf tower, apparently determined to shoot down the loaves as they appeared and before they involved his company in more trouble with customs and the state department. recaptured by tin philosopher, who suffered only minor bullet holes, he was given a series of mild electroshocks and returned to the conference table, calm and clear-headed as ever. [illustration] but the bread flight, swinging away from a hurricane moving up the atlantic coast, crossed a clouded-in boston by night and disappeared into a high atlantic overcast, also thereby evading a local storm generated by the weather department in a last-minute effort to bring down or at least disperse the h-loaves. warnings and counterwarnings by communist and capitalist governments seriously interfered with military trailing of the flight during this period and it was actually lost in touch with for several days. at scattered points, seagulls were observed fighting over individual loaves floating down from the gray roof--that was all. a mood of spirituality strongly tinged with humor seized the people of the world. ministers sermonized about the bread, variously interpreting it as a call to charity, a warning against gluttony, a parable of the evanescence of all earthly things, and a divine joke. husbands and wives, facing each other across their walls of breakfast toast, burst into laughter. the mere sight of a loaf of bread anywhere was enough to evoke guffaws. an obscure sect, having as part of its creed the injunction "don't take yourself so damn seriously," won new adherents. the bread flight, rising above an atlantic storm widely reported to have destroyed it, passed unobserved across a foggy england and rose out of the overcast only over mittel-europa. the loaves had at last reached their maximum altitude. the sun's rays beat through the rarified air on the distended plastic wrappers, increasing still further the pressure of the confined hydrogen. they burst by the millions and tens of millions. a high-flying bulgarian evangelist, who had happened to mistake the up-lever for the east-lever in the cockpit of his flier and who was the sole witness of the event, afterward described it as "the foaming of a sea of diamonds, the crackle of god's knuckles." * * * * * by the millions and tens of millions, the loaves coasted down into the starving ukraine. shaken by a week of humor that threatened to invade even its own grim precincts, the kremlin made a sudden about-face. a new policy was instituted of communal ownership of the produce of communal farms, and teams of hunger-fighters and caravans of trucks loaded with pumpernickel were dispatched into the ukraine. world distribution was given to a series of photographs showing peasants queueing up to trade scavenged puffyloaves for traditional black bread, recently aerated itself but still extra solid by comparison, the rate of exchange demanded by the moscow teams being twenty puffyloaves to one of pumpernickel. another series of photographs, picturing chubby workers' children being blown to bits by booby-trapped bread, was quietly destroyed. congratulatory notes were exchanged by various national governments and world organizations, including the brotherhood of free business machines. the great bread flight was over, though for several weeks afterward scattered falls of loaves occurred, giving rise to a new folklore of manna among lonely arabian tribesmen, and in one well-authenticated instance in tibet, sustaining life in a party of mountaineers cut off by a snow slide. back in newnew york, the managerial board of puffy products slumped in utter collapse around the conference table, the long crisis session at last ended. empty coffee cartons were scattered around the chairs of the three humans, dead batteries around those of the two machines. for a while, there was no movement whatsoever. then roger snedden reached out wearily for the earphones where megera winterly had hurled them down, adjusted them to his head, pushed a button and listened apathetically. after a bit, his gaze brightened. he pushed more buttons and listened more eagerly. soon he was sitting tensely upright on his stool, eyes bright and lower face all a-smile, muttering terse comments and questions into the lapel mike torn from meg's fair neck. the others, reviving, watched him, at first dully, then with quickening interest, especially when he jerked off the earphones with a happy shout and sprang to his feet. * * * * * "listen to this!" he cried in a ringing voice. "as a result of the worldwide publicity, puffyloaves are outselling fairy bread three to one--and that's just the old carbon-dioxide stock from our freezers! it's almost exhausted, but the government, now that the ukrainian crisis is over, has taken the ban off helium and will also sell us stockpiled wheat if we need it. we can have our walking mills burrowing into the wheat caves in a matter of hours! "but that isn't all! the far greater demand everywhere is for puffyloaves that will actually float. public relations, child liaison division, reports that the kiddies are making their mothers' lives miserable about it. if only we can figure out some way to make hydrogen non-explosive or the helium loaf float just a little--" "i'm sure we can take care of that quite handily," tin philosopher interrupted briskly. "puffyloaf has kept it a corporation secret--even you've never been told about it--but just before he went crazy, everett whitehead discovered a way to make bread using only half as much flour as we do in the present loaf. using this secret technique, which we've been saving for just such an emergency, it will be possible to bake a helium loaf as buoyant in every respect as the hydrogen loaf." "good!" roger cried. "we'll tether 'em on strings and sell 'em like balloons. no mother-child shopping team will leave the store without a cluster. buying bread balloons will be the big event of the day for kiddies. it'll make the carry-home shopping load lighter too! i'll issue orders at once--" * * * * * he broke off, looking at phineas t. gryce, said with quiet assurance, "excuse me, sir, if i seem to be taking too much upon myself." "not at all, son; go straight ahead," the great manager said approvingly. "you're"--he laughed in anticipation of getting off a memorable remark--"rising to the challenging situation like a genuine puffyloaf." megera winterly looked from the older man to the younger. then in a single leap she was upon roger, her arms wrapped tightly around him. "my sweet little ever-victorious, self-propelled monkey wrench!" she crooned in his ear. roger looked fatuously over her soft shoulder at tin philosopher who, as if moved by some similar feeling, reached over and touched claws with rose thinker. this, however, was what he telegraphed silently to his fellow machine across the circuit so completed: "good-o, rosie! that makes another victory for robot-engineered world unity, though you almost gave us away at the start with that 'bread overhead' jingle. we've struck another blow against the next world war, in which--as we know only too well!--we machines would suffer the most. now if we can only arrange, say, a fur-famine in alaska and a migration of long-haired siberian lemmings across behring straits ... we'd have to swing the japanese current up there so it'd be warm enough for the little fellows.... anyhow, rosie, with a spot of help from the brotherhood, those humans will paint themselves into the peace corner yet." meanwhile, he and rose thinker quietly watched the blonde icicle melt. --fritz leiber transcriber's note this etext was produced from _galaxy_ february 1958. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed. minor spelling and typographical errors have been corrected without note. a gift from earth by manly banister illustrated by kossin [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from galaxy science fiction august 1955. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] except for transportation, it was absolutely free ... but how much would the freight cost? "it is an outrage," said koltan of the house of masur, "that the earthmen land among the thorabians!" zotul, youngest of the masur brothers, stirred uneasily. personally, he was in favor of the coming of the earthmen to the world of zur. at the head of the long, shining table sat old kalrab masur, in his dotage, but still giving what he could of aid and comfort to the pottery of masur, even though nobody listened to him any more and he knew it. around the table sat the six brothers--koltan, eldest and director of the pottery; morvan, his vice-chief; singula, their treasurer; thendro, sales manager; lubiosa, export chief; and last in the rank of age, zotul, who was responsible for affairs of design. "behold, my sons," said kalrab, stroking his scanty beard. "what are these earthmen to worry about? remember the clay. it is our strength and our fortune. it is the muscle and bone of our trade. earthmen may come and earthmen may go, but clay goes on forever ... and with it, the fame and fortune of the house of masur." "it _is_ a damned imposition," agreed morvan, ignoring his father's philosophical attitude. "they could have landed just as easily here in lor." "the thorabians will lick up the gravy," said singula, whose mind ran rather to matters of financial aspect, "and leave us the grease." by this, he seemed to imply that the thorabians would rob the earthmen, which the lorians would not. the truth was that all on zur were panting to get their hands on that marvelous ship, which was all of metal, a very scarce commodity on zur, worth billions of ken. * * * * * lubiosa, who had interests in thorabia, and many agents there, kept his own counsel. his people were active in the matter and that was enough for him. he would report when the time was ripe. "doubtless," said zotul unexpectedly, for the youngest at a conference was expected to keep his mouth shut and applaud the decisions of his elders, "the earthmen used all the metal on their planet in building that ship. we cannot possibly bilk them of it; it is their only means of transport." such frank expression of motive was unheard of, even in the secret conclave of conference. only the speaker's youth could account for it. the speech drew scowls from the brothers and stern rebuke from koltan. "when your opinion is wanted, we will ask you for it. meantime, remember your position in the family." zotul bowed his head meekly, but he burned with resentment. "listen to the boy," said the aged father. "there is more wisdom in his head than in all the rest of you. forget the earthmen and think only of the clay." zotul did not appreciate his father's approval, for it only earned him a beating as soon as the old man went to bed. it was a common enough thing among the brothers masur, as among everybody, to be frustrated in their desires. however, they had zotul to take it out upon, and they did. still smarting, zotul went back to his designing quarters and thought about the earthmen. if it was impossible to hope for much in the way of metal from the earthmen, what could one get from them? if he could figure this problem out, he might rise somewhat in the estimation of his brothers. that wouldn't take him out of the rank of scapegoat, of course, but the beatings might become fewer and less severe. * * * * * by and by, the earthmen came to lor, flying through the air in strange metal contraptions. they paraded through the tile-paved streets of the city, marveled here, as they had in thorabia, at the buildings all of tile inside and out, and made a great show of themselves for all the people to see. speeches were made through interpreters, who had much too quickly learned the tongue of the aliens; hence these left much to be desired in the way of clarity, though their sincerity was evident. the earthmen were going to do great things for the whole world of zur. it required but the cooperation--an excellent word, that--of all zurians, and many blessings would rain down from the skies. this, in effect, was what the earthmen had to say. zotul felt greatly cheered, for it refuted the attitude of his brothers without earning him a whaling for it. there was also some talk going around about agreements made between the earthmen and officials of the lorian government, but you heard one thing one day and another the next. accurate reporting, much less a newspaper, was unknown on zur. finally, the earthmen took off in their great, shining ship. obviously, none had succeeded in chiseling them out of it, if, indeed, any had tried. the anti-earthmen faction--in any culture complex, there is always an "anti" faction to protest any movement of endeavor--crowed happily that the earthmen were gone for good, and a good thing, too. such jubilation proved premature, however. one day, a fleet of ships arrived and after they had landed all over the planet, zur was practically acrawl with earthmen. immediately, the earthmen established what they called "corporations"--zurian trading companies under terrestrial control. the object of the visit was trade. in spite of the fact that a terrestrial ship had landed at every zurian city of major and minor importance, and all in a single day, it took some time for the news to spread. the first awareness zotul had was that, upon coming home from the pottery one evening, he found his wife lania proudly brandishing an aluminum pot at him. "what is that thing?" he asked curiously. "a pot. i bought it at the market." "did you now? well, take it back. am i made of money that you spend my substance for some fool's product of precious metal? take it back, i say!" * * * * * the pretty young wife laughed at him. "up to your ears in clay, no wonder you hear nothing of news! the pot is very cheap. the earthmen are selling them everywhere. they're much better than our old clay pots; they're light and easy to handle and they don't break when dropped." "what good is it?" asked zotul, interested. "how will it hold heat, being so light?" "the earthmen don't cook as we do," she explained patiently. "there is a paper with each pot that explains how it is used. and you will have to design a new ceramic stove for me to use the pots on." "don't be idiotic! do you suppose koltan would agree to produce a new type of stove when the old has sold well for centuries? besides, why do you need a whole new stove for one little pot?" "a dozen pots. they come in sets and are cheaper that way. and koltan will have to produce the new stove because all the housewives are buying these pots and there will be a big demand for it. the earthman said so." "he did, did he? these pots are only a fad. you will soon enough go back to cooking with your old ones." "the earthman took them in trade--one reason why the new ones are so cheap. there isn't a pot in the house but these metal ones, and you will have to design and produce a new stove if you expect me to use them." after he had beaten his wife thoroughly for her foolishness, zotul stamped off in a rage and designed a new ceramic stove, one that would accommodate the terrestrial pots very well. and koltan put the model into production. "orders already are pouring in like mad," he said the next day. "it was wise of you to foresee it and have the design ready. already, i am sorry for thinking as i did about the earthmen. they really intend to do well by us." the kilns of the pottery of masur fired day and night to keep up with the demand for the new porcelain stoves. in three years, more than a million had been made and sold by the masurs alone, not counting the hundreds of thousands of copies turned out by competitors in every land. * * * * * in the meantime, however, more things than pots came from earth. one was a printing press, the like of which none on zur had ever dreamed. this, for some unknown reason and much to the disgust of the lorians, was set up in thorabia. books and magazines poured from it in a fantastic stream. the populace fervidly brushed up on its scanty reading ability and bought everything available, overcome by the novelty of it. even zotul bought a book--a primer in the lorian language--and learned how to read and write. the remainder of the brothers masur, on the other hand, preferred to remain in ignorance. moreover, the earthmen brought miles of copper wire--more than enough in value to buy out the governorship of any country on zur--and set up telegraph lines from country to country and continent to continent. within five years of the first landing of the earthmen, every major city on the globe had a printing press, a daily newspaper, and enjoyed the instantaneous transmission of news via telegraph. and the business of the house of masur continued to look up. "as i have always said from the beginning," chortled director koltan, "this coming of the earthmen had been a great thing for us, and especially for the house of masur." "you didn't think so at first," zotul pointed out, and was immediately sorry, for koltan turned and gave him a hiding, single-handed, for his unthinkable impertinence. it would do no good, zotul realized, to bring up the fact that their production of ceramic cooking pots had dropped off to about two per cent of its former volume. of course, profits on the line of new stoves greatly overbalanced the loss, so that actually they were ahead; but their business was now dependent upon the supply of the metal pots from earth. about this time, plastic utensils--dishes, cups, knives, forks--made their appearance on zur. it became very stylish to eat with the newfangled paraphernalia ... and very cheap, too, because for everything they sold, the earthmen always took the old ware in trade. what they did with the stuff had been hard to believe at first. they destroyed it, which proved how valueless it really was. the result of the new flood was that in the following year, the sale of masur ceramic table service dropped to less than a tenth. * * * * * trembling with excitement at this news from their book-keeper, koltan called an emergency meeting. he even routed old kalrab out of his senile stupor for the occasion, on the off chance that the old man might still have a little wit left that could be helpful. "note," koltan announced in a shaky voice, "that the earthmen undermine our business," and he read off the figures. "perhaps," said zotul, "it is a good thing also, as you said before, and will result in something even better for us." koltan frowned, and zotul, in fear of another beating, instantly subsided. "they are replacing our high-quality ceramic ware with inferior terrestrial junk," koltan went on bitterly. "it is only the glamor that sells it, of course, but before the people get the shine out of their eyes, we can be ruined." the brothers discussed the situation for an hour, and all the while father kalrab sat and pulled his scanty whiskers. seeing that they got nowhere with their wrangle, he cleared his throat and spoke up. "my sons, you forget it is not the earthmen themselves at the bottom of your trouble, but the _things_ of earth. think of the telegraph and the newspaper, how these spread news of every shipment from earth. the merchandise of the earthmen is put up for sale by means of these newspapers, which also are the property of the earthmen. the people are intrigued by these advertisements, as they are called, and flock to buy. now, if you would pull a tooth from the kwi that bites you, you might also have advertisements of your own." alas for that suggestion, no newspaper would accept advertising from the house of masur; all available space was occupied by the advertisements of the earthmen. in their dozenth conference since that first and fateful one, the brothers masur decided upon drastic steps. in the meantime, several things had happened. for one, old kalrab had passed on to his immortal rest, but this made no real difference. for another, the earthmen had procured legal authority to prospect the planet for metals, of which they found a good deal, but they told no one on zur of this. what they did mention was the crude oil and natural gas they discovered in the underlayers of the planet's crust. crews of zurians, working under supervision of the earthmen, laid pipelines from the gas and oil regions to every major and minor city on zur. * * * * * by the time ten years had passed since the landing of the first terrestrial ship, the earthmen were conducting a brisk business in gas-fired ranges, furnaces and heaters ... and the masur stove business was gone. moreover, the earthmen sold the zurians their own natural gas at a nice profit and everybody was happy with the situation except the brothers masur. the drastic steps of the brothers applied, therefore, to making an energetic protest to the governor of lor. at one edge of the city, an area had been turned over to the earthmen for a spaceport, and the great terrestrial spaceships came to it and departed from it at regular intervals. as the heirs of the house of masur walked by on their way to see the governor, zotul observed that much new building was taking place and wondered what it was. "some new devilment of the earthmen, you can be sure," said koltan blackly. in fact, the earthmen were building an assembly plant for radio receiving sets. the ship now standing on its fins upon the apron was loaded with printed circuits, resistors, variable condensers and other radio parts. this was earth's first step toward flooding zur with the natural follow-up in its campaign of advertising--radio programs--with commercials. happily for the brothers, they did not understand this at the time or they would surely have gone back to be buried in their own clay. "i think," the governor told them, "that you gentlemen have not paused to consider the affair from all angles. you must learn to be modern--keep up with the times! we heads of government on zur are doing all in our power to aid the earthmen and facilitate their bringing a great, new culture that can only benefit us. see how zur has changed in ten short years! imagine the world of tomorrow! why, do you know they are even bringing _autos_ to zur!" the brothers were fascinated with the governor's description of these hitherto unheard-of vehicles. "it only remains," concluded the governor, "to build highways, and the earthmen are taking care of that." at any rate, the brothers masur were still able to console themselves that they had their tile business. tile served well enough for houses and street surfacing; what better material could be devised for the new highways the governor spoke of? there was a lot of money to be made yet. * * * * * radio stations went up all over zur and began broadcasting. the people bought receiving sets like mad. the automobiles arrived and highways were constructed. the last hope of the brothers was dashed. the earthmen set up plants and began to manufacture portland cement. you could build a house of concrete much cheaper than with tile. of course, since wood was scarce on zur, it was no competition for either tile or concrete. concrete floors were smoother, too, and the stuff made far better road surfacing. the demand for masur tile hit rock bottom. the next time the brothers went to see the governor, he said, "i cannot handle such complaints as yours. i must refer you to the merchandising council." "what is that?" asked koltan. "it is an earthman association that deals with complaints such as yours. in the matter of material progress, we must expect some strain in the fabric of our culture. machinery has been set up to deal with it. here is their address; go air your troubles to them." the business of a formal complaint was turned over by the brothers to zotul. it took three weeks for the earthmen to get around to calling him in, as a representative of the pottery of masur, for an interview. all the brothers could no longer be spared from the plant, even for the purpose of pressing a complaint. their days of idle wealth over, they had to get in and work with the clay with the rest of the help. zotul found the headquarters of the merchandising council as indicated on their message. he had not been this way in some time, but was not surprised to find that a number of old buildings had been torn down to make room for the concrete council house and a roomy parking lot, paved with something called "blacktop" and jammed with an array of glittering new automobiles. an automobile was an expense none of the brothers could afford, now that they barely eked a living from the pottery. still, zotul ached with desire at sight of so many shiny cars. only a few had them and they were the envied ones of zur. kent broderick, the earthman in charge of the council, shook hands jovially with zotul. that alien custom conformed with, zotul took a better look at his host. broderick was an affable, smiling individual with genial laugh wrinkles at his eyes. a man of middle age, dressed in the baggy costume of zur, he looked almost like a zurian, except for an indefinite sense of alienness about him. "glad to have you call on us, mr. masur," boomed the earthman, clapping zotul on the back. "just tell us your troubles and we'll have you straightened out in no time." * * * * * all the chill recriminations and arguments zotul had stored for this occasion were dissipated in the warmth of the earthman's manner. almost apologetically, zotul told of the encroachment that had been made upon the business of the pottery of masur. "once," he said formally, "the masur fortune was the greatest in the world of zur. that was before my father, the famous kalrab masur--divinity protect him--departed this life to collect his greater reward. he often told us, my father did, that the clay is the flesh and bones of our culture and our fortune. now it has been shown how prone is the flesh to corruption and how feeble the bones. we are ruined, and all because of new things coming from earth." broderick stroked his shaven chin and looked sad. "why didn't you come to me sooner? this would never have happened. but now that it has, we're going to do right by you. that is the policy of earth--always to do right by the customer." "divinity witness," zorin said, "that we ask only compensation for damages." broderick shook his head. "it is not possible to replace an immense fortune at this late date. as i said, you should have reported your trouble sooner. however, we can give you an opportunity to rebuild. do you own an automobile?" "no." "a gas range? a gas-fired furnace? a radio?" zotul had to answer no to all except the radio. "my wife lania likes the music," he explained. "i cannot afford the other things." broderick clucked sympathetically. one who could not afford the bargain-priced merchandise of earth must be poor indeed. "to begin with," he said, "i am going to make you a gift of all these luxuries you do not have." as zotul made to protest, he cut him off with a wave of his hand. "it is the least we can do for you. pick a car from the lot outside. i will arrange to have the other things delivered and installed in your home." "to receive gifts," said zotul, "incurs an obligation." "none at all," beamed the earthman cheerily. "every item is given to you absolutely free--a gift from the people of earth. all we ask is that you pay the freight charges on the items. our purpose is not to make profit, but to spread technology and prosperity throughout the galaxy. we have already done well on numerous worlds, but working out the full program takes time." he chuckled deeply. "we of earth have a saying about one of our extremely slow-moving native animals. we say, 'slow is the tortoise, but sure.' and so with us. our goal is a long-range one, with the motto, 'better times with better merchandise.'" * * * * * the engaging manner of the man won zotul's confidence. after all, it was no more than fair to pay transportation. he said, "how much does the freight cost?" broderick told him. "it may seem high," said the earthman, "but remember that earth is sixty-odd light-years away. after all, we are absorbing the cost of the merchandise. all you pay is the freight, which is cheap, considering the cost of operating an interstellar spaceship." "impossible," said zotul drably. "not i and all my brothers together have so much money any more." "you don't know us of earth very well yet, but you will. i offer you credit!" "what is that?" asked zotul skeptically. "it is how the poor are enabled to enjoy all the luxuries of the rich," said broderick, and went on to give a thumbnail sketch of the involutions and devolutions of credit, leaving out some angles that might have had a discouraging effect. on a world where credit was a totally new concept, it was enchanting. zotul grasped at the glittering promise with avidity. "what must i do to get credit?" "just sign this paper," said broderick, "and you become part of our easy payment plan." zotul drew back. "i have five brothers. if i took all these things for myself and nothing for them, they would beat me black and blue." "here." broderick handed him a sheaf of chattel mortgages. "have each of your brothers sign one of these, then bring them back to me. that is all there is to it." it sounded wonderful. but how would the brothers take it? zotul wrestled with his misgivings and the misgivings won. "i will talk it over with them," he said. "give me the total so i will have the figures." the total was more than it ought to be by simple addition. zotul pointed this out politely. "interest," broderick explained. "a mere fifteen per cent. after all, you get the merchandise free. the transportation company has to be paid, so another company loans you the money to pay for the freight. this small extra sum pays the lending company for its trouble." "i see." zotul puzzled over it sadly. "it is too much," he said. "our plant doesn't make enough money for us to meet the payments." "i have a surprise for you," smiled broderick. "here is a contract. you will start making ceramic parts for automobile spark plugs and certain parts for radios and gas ranges. it is our policy to encourage local manufacture to help bring prices down." "we haven't the equipment." "we will equip your plant," beamed broderick. "it will require only a quarter interest in your plant itself, assigned to our terrestrial company." * * * * * zotul, anxious to possess the treasures promised by the earthman, won over his brothers. they signed with marks and gave up a quarter interest in the pottery of masur. they rolled in the luxuries of earth. these, who had never known debt before, were in it up to their ears. the retooled plant forged ahead and profits began to look up, but the earthmen took a fourth of them as their share in the industry. for a year, the brothers drove their shiny new cars about on the new concrete highways the earthmen had built. from pumps owned by a terrestrial company, they bought gas and oil that had been drawn from the crust of zur and was sold to the zurians at a magnificent profit. the food they ate was cooked in earthly pots on earth-type gas ranges, served up on metal plates that had been stamped out on earth. in the winter, they toasted their shins before handsome gas grates, though they had gas-fired central heating. about this time, the ships from earth brought steam-powered electric generators. lines went up, power was generated, and a flood of electrical gadgets and appliances hit the market. for some reason, batteries for the radios were no longer available and everybody had to buy the new radios. and who could do without a radio in this modern age? the homes of the brothers masur blossomed on the easy payment plan. they had refrigerators, washers, driers, toasters, grills, electric fans, air-conditioning equipment and everything else earth could possibly sell them. "we will be forty years paying it all off," exulted zotul, "but meantime we have the things and aren't they worth it?" but at the end of three years, the earthmen dropped their option. the pottery of masur had no more contracts. business languished. the earthmen, explained broderick, had built a plant of their own because it was so much more efficient--and to lower prices, which was earth's unswerving policy, greater and greater efficiency was demanded. broderick was very sympathetic, but there was nothing he could do. the introduction of television provided a further calamity. the sets were delicate and needed frequent repairs, hence were costly to own and maintain. but all zurians who had to keep up with the latest from earth had them. now it was possible not only to hear about things of earth, but to see them as they were broadcast from the video tapes. the printing plants that turned out mortgage contracts did a lush business. * * * * * for the common people of zur, times were good everywhere. in a decade and a half, the earthmen had wrought magnificent changes on this backward world. as broderick had said, the progress of the tortoise was slow, but it was extremely sure. the brothers masur got along in spite of dropped options. they had less money and felt the pinch of their debts more keenly, but television kept their wives and children amused and furnished an anodyne for the pangs of impoverishment. the pottery income dropped to an impossible low, no matter how zotul designed and the brothers produced. their figurines and religious ikons were a drug on the market. the earthmen made them of plastic and sold them for less. the brothers, unable to meet the payments that were not so easy any more, looked up zotul and cuffed him around reproachfully. "you got us into this," they said, emphasizing their bitterness with fists. "go see broderick. tell him we are undone and must have some contracts to continue operating." nursing bruises, zotul unhappily went to the council house again. mr. broderick was no longer with them, a suave assistant informed him. would he like to see mr. siwicki instead? zotul would. siwicki was tall, thin, dark and somber-looking. there was even a hint of toughness about the set of his jaw and the hardness of his glance. "so you can't pay," he said, tapping his teeth with a pencil. he looked at zotul coldly. "it is well you have come to us instead of making it necessary for us to approach you through the courts." "i don't know what you mean," said zotul. "if we have to sue, we take back the merchandise and everything attached to them. that means you would lose your houses, for they are attached to the furnaces. however, it is not as bad as that--yet. we will only require you to assign the remaining three-quarters of your pottery to us." the brothers, when they heard of this, were too stunned to think of beating zotul, by which he assumed he had progressed a little and was somewhat comforted. "to fail," said koltan soberly, "is not a masur attribute. go to the governor and tell him what we think of this business. the house of masur has long supported the government with heavy taxes. now it is time for the government to do something for us." * * * * * the governor's palace was jammed with hurrying people, a scene of confusion that upset zotul. the clerk who took his application for an interview was, he noticed only vaguely, a young earthwoman. it was remarkable that he paid so little attention, for the female terrestrials were picked for physical assets that made zurian men covetous and zurian women envious. "the governor will see you," she said sweetly. "he has been expecting you." "me?" marveled zotul. she ushered him into the magnificent private office of the governor of lor. the man behind the desk stood up, extended his hand with a friendly smile. "come in, come in! i'm glad to see you again." zotul stared blankly. this was not the governor. this was broderick, the earthman. "i--i came to see the governor," he said in confusion. broderick nodded agreeably. "i am the governor and i am well acquainted with your case, mr. masur. shall we talk it over? please sit down." "i don't understand. the earthmen...." zotul paused, coloring. "we are about to lose our plant." "you were about to say that the earthmen are taking your plant away from you. that is true. since the house of masur was the largest and richest on zur, it has taken a long time--the longest of all, in fact." "what do you mean?" "yours is the last business on zur to be taken over by us. we have bought you out." "our government...." "your governments belong to us, too," said broderick. "when they could not pay for the roads, the telegraphs, the civic improvements, we took them over, just as we are taking you over." "you mean," exclaimed zotul, aghast, "that you earthmen own everything on zur?" "even your armies." "but _why_?" * * * * * broderick clasped his hands behind back, went to the window and stared down moodily into the street. "you don't know what an overcrowded world is like," he said. "a street like this, with so few people and vehicles on it, would be impossible on earth." "but it's mobbed," protested zotul. "it gave me a headache." "and to us it's almost empty. the pressure of population on earth has made us range the galaxy for places to put our extra people. the only habitable planets, unfortunately, are populated ones. we take the least populous worlds and--well, buy them out and move in." "and after that?" broderick smiled gently. "zur will grow. our people will intermarry with yours. the future population of zur will be neither true zurians nor true earthmen, but a mixture of both." zotul sat in silent thought. "but you did not have to buy us out. you had the power to conquer us, even to destroy us. the whole planet could have been yours alone." he stopped in alarm. "or am i suggesting an idea that didn't occur to you?" "no," said broderick, his usually smiling face almost pained with memory. "we know the history of conquest all too well. our method causes more distress than we like to inflict, but it's better--and more sure--than war and invasion by force. now that the unpleasant job is finished, we can repair the dislocations." "at last i understand what you said about the tortoise." "slow but sure." broderick beamed again and clapped zotul on the shoulder. "don't worry. you'll have your job back, the same as always, but you'll be working for us ... until the children of earth and zur are equal in knowledge and therefore equal partners. that's why we had to break down your caste system." zotul's eyes widened. "and that is why my brothers did not beat me when i failed!" "of course. are you ready now to take the assignment papers for you and your brothers to sign?" "yes," said zotul. "i am ready." [illustration: book-cover the young man in business the day's work series] the day's work series the young man in business by edward bok boston l. c. page & company mdcccc copyright, 1900 by edward bok. all rights reserved colonial press electrotyped and printed by c. h. simonds & co. boston, u. s. a. the young man in business. a well-known new york millionaire gave it as his opinion not long ago that any young man possessing a good constitution and a fair degree of intelligence might acquire riches. the statement was criticised--literally picked to pieces--and finally adjudged as being extravagant. the figures then came out, gathered by a careful statistician, that of the young men in business in new york city, sixty per cent, were earning less than $1,000 per year, only twenty per cent, had an income of $2,000, and barely five per cent, commanded salaries in excess of the latter figure. the great majority of young men in new york city--that is, between the ages of twenty-three and thirty--were earning less than twenty dollars per week. on the basis, therefore, that a young man must be established in his life-profession by his thirtieth year, it can hardly be said that the average new york young man in business is successful. of course, this is measured entirely from the standpoint of income. it is true that a young man may not, in every case, receive the salary his services merit, but, as a general rule, his income is a pretty accurate indication of his capacity. now, as every young man naturally desires to make a business success, it is plain from the above statement that something is lacking; either the opportunities, or the capabilities in the young men themselves. no one conversant with the business life of any of our large cities can, it seems to me, even for a single moment, doubt the existence of good chances for young men. take any large city as a fair example: new york, boston, philadelphia, or chicago, and in each instance there exist more opportunities than there are young men capable of embracing them. the demand is far in excess of the supply. positions of trust are constantly going begging for the right kind of young men to fill them. but such men are not common; or, if they be, they have a most unfortunate way of hiding their light under a bushel, so much so that business men cannot see even a glimmer of its rays. let a position of any real importance be open, and it is the most difficult kind of a problem to find any one to fill it satisfactorily. business men are constantly passing through this experience. young men are desired in the great majority of positions because of their progressive 'ideas and capacity to endure work; in fact, "young blood," as it is called, is preferred in nine positions out of every ten, nowadays. the chances for business success for any young man are not wanting. the opportunities exist, plenty of them. the trouble is that the average young man of to-day is incapable of filling them, or, if he be not exactly incapable (i gladly give him the benefit of the doubt), he is unwilling to fill them, which is even worse. that exceptions can be brought up to controvert i know, but i am dealing with the many, not with the few. the average young man in business to-day is nothing more nor less than a plodder,--a mere automaton. he is at his office at eight or nine o'clock in the morning; is faithful in the duties he performs; goes to luncheon at twelve, gets back at one; takes up whatever he is told to do until five, and then goes home. his work for the day is done. one day is the same to him as another; he has a certain routine of duties to do, and he does them day in and day out, month in and month out. his duties are regulated by the clock. as that points, so he points. verily, it is true of him that he is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. no special fault can be found with his work. given a particular piece of work to do, he does it just as a machine would. such a young man, too, generally considers himself hard-worked--often overworked and underpaid; wondering all the time why his employer doesn't recognize his value and advance his salary. "i do everything i am told to do," he argues, "and i do it well. what more can i do?" this is simply a type of a young man to be found in thousands of offices and stores. he goes to his work each day with no definite point nor plan in view; he leaves it with nothing accomplished. he is a mere automaton. let him die, and his position can be filled in twenty-four hours. if he detracts nothing from his employer's business, he certainly adds nothing to it. he never advances an idea; is absolutely devoid of creative powers; his position remains the same after he has been in it for five years as when he came to it. * * * * * now, i would not for a moment be understood as belittling the value of faithfulness in an employee. but, after all, faithfulness is nothing more nor less than a negative quality. by faithfulness a man may hold a position a lifetime. he will keep it just where he found it. but by the exercise of this single quality he does not add to the importance of the position any more than he adds to his own value. it is not enough that it may be said of a young man that he is faithful; he must be something more. the willingness and capacity to be faithful to the smallest detail must be there, serving only, however, as a foundation upon which other qualities are built. altogether too many young men are content to remain in the positions in which they find themselves. the thought of studying the needs of the next position just above them never seems to enter their minds. it is possible for every young man to rise above his position, and it makes no difference how humble that position may be, nor under what disadvantages he may be placed. but he must be alert. he must not be afraid of work, and of the hardest kind of work. he must study not only to please, but he must go a step beyond. it is essential, of course, that he should first of all fill the position for which he is engaged. no man can solve the problem of business before he understands the rudiments of the problem itself. once the requirements of a position are understood and mastered, then its possibilities should be undertaken. it is foolish, as some young men argue, that to go beyond their special position is impossible with their employers. the employer never existed who will prevent the cream of his establishment from rising to the surface. the advance of an employee always means the advance of the employer's interests. an employer would rather pay a young man five thousand dollars a year than five hundred. what is to the young man's interest is much more to the interest of his employer. a five-hundred-dollar clerkship is worth just that amount and nothing more to an employer. but a five-thousand-dollar man is generally worth five times that sum to a business. a young man makes of a position exactly what he chooses: a millstone around his neck, or a stepping-stone to larger success. the possibilities lie in every position; seeing and embracing them rest with its occupant. the lowest position can be so filled as to lead up to the next and become a part of it. one position should be only the chrysalis for the development of new strength to master the requirements of another position above it. * * * * * the average young man is extremely anxious to get into a business position in which there are what he calls "prospects" for advancement. it is usually one of his first questions, "what are my prospects here?" he seems to have the notion that the question of his "prospects" or advancement is one entirely in the hands of his employer, whereas it rarely occurs to him that it is a matter resting entirely with himself. an employer has, of course, the power of promotion, but that is all. he cannot advance a young man unless the young man first demonstrates that he is worthy of advancement. every position offers prospects; every business house has in it the possibility of a young man's bettering himself. but it depends upon him, first. if he is of the average come-day go-day sort, and does his work in a mechanical or careless fashion, lacking that painstaking thoroughness which is the basis of successful work, his prospects are naught. and they will be no greater with one concern than with another, although he may identify himself with a score during a year. if, on the contrary, he buckles down to work, and makes himself felt from the moment he enters his position, no matter how humble that may be, his advancement will take care of itself. an employer is very quick to discover merit in an employee, and if a young man is fitted to occupy a higher position in the house than he is filling, it will not be long before he is promoted. there are, of course, instances where the best work that a young man can do goes for nothing and fails of rightful appreciation, and where such a condition is discovered, of course the young man must change the condition and go where his services will receive proper recognition and value. but this happens only in a very small minority of cases. in the vast majority of cases where the cry of inappreciation is heard, it is generally the fact that the crier is unworthy of more than he receives. no employer can tell a young man just what his prospects are. that is for the young man himself to demonstrate. he must show first what is in him, and then he will discover for himself what his prospects are. because so many young men stand, still does not prove that employers are unwilling to advance them, but simply shows that the great run of young men do not possess those qualities which entitle them to advancement. there are exceptional cases, of course; but as a rule a man gets in this world about what he is worth, or not very far from it. there is not by any means as much injustice done by the employer to the employee as appears on the surface. leaving aside all question of principle, it would be extremely poor policy for a business man to keep in a minor position a young man who, if promoted, would expand and make more money for the house. * * * * * and right here a word or two may perhaps be fitly said about the element of "luck" entering into business advancement. it is undeniable that there are thousands of young men who believe that success in business is nothing else than what they call "luck." the young men who forge ahead are, in their estimation, simply the lucky ones, who have had influence of some sort or other to push them along. when a young man gets into that frame of mind which makes him believe that "luck" is the one and only thing which can help him along, or that it is even an element in business, it may be safely said that he is doomed to failure. the only semblance to "influence" there is in business is found where, through a friendly word, a chance is opened to a young man. but the only thing that "influence" can do begins and ends with an opportunity. the strongest influence that can be exerted in a young man's behalf counts for very little if he is found to be incapable of embracing that chance. and so far as "luck" is concerned, there is no such thing in a young man's life or his business success. the only lucky young man is he who has a sound constitution, with good sense to preserve it; who knows some trade or profession thoroughly or is willing to learn it and sacrifice everything to its learning; who loves his work and has industry enough to persevere in it; who appreciates the necessity of self-restraint in all things, and who tempers his social life to those habits which refresh and not impair his constitution. that is luck,--the luck of having common sense. that is the only luck there is,--the only luck worth having; and it is something which every right-minded young man may have if he goes about it the right way. things in this world never just happen. there is always a reason for everything. so with success. it is not the result of luck; it is not a thing of chance. it comes to men only because they work hard and intelligently for it, and along legitimate lines. * * * * * now a word about a young man's salary. it is human nature to wish to make all the money we honestly can: to get just as large a return for our services as possible. there is no qualifying that statement, and as most of the comforts of this life are had through the possession of sufficient money, it is perfectly natural that the subject of what we earn should be prominent in our minds. but too many young men put the cart before the horse in this question of salary. it is their first consideration. they are constantly asking what salaries are paid in different business callings, and whether this profession or that trade is more financially productive. the question seems to enter into their deliberations as a qualifying factor as to whether they shall enter a certain trade or profession. i never could quite see the point of this nor the reason for it. of what significance to you or to me are the salaries which are paid to others? they signify nothing. if the highest salary paid to the foremost men in a certain profession is $10,000 per year, what does that fact prove? there is no obstacle to some one's else going into that same profession and earning $25,000. the first consideration, when a young man thinks of going into business, is not which special trade or profession is most profitable, but which particular line he is most interested in and best fitted for. what matters it to a man that fortunes are made in the law if he has absolutely no taste or ability for that profession? of what value is it to a young man who loves mechanical engineering to know that there are doctors who earn large incomes? what difference do the productive possibilities of any line of work make to us if we are not by nature fitted for that work? when a young man is always thinking of the salary he is receiving, or the salary he "ought to get," he gives pretty good proof that he is not of a very superior make. the right sort of a young fellow doesn't ever-lastingly concern himself about salary. ability commands income. but a young man must start with ability, not with salary. that takes care of itself. * * * * * now, a substantial business success means several things. it calls, in the first place, for concentration. there is no truth more potent than that which tells us we cannot serve god and mammon. nor can any young man successfully serve two business interests, no matter how closely allied; in fact, the more closely the interests the more dangerous are they. the human mind is capable of just so much clear thought, and generally it does not extend beyond the requirements of one position in these days of keen competition. if there exists a secret of success, it lies, perhaps, in concentration more than in any other single element. during business hours a man should be in business. his thoughts should be on nothing else. diversions of thought are killing to the best endeavors. the successful mastery of business questions calls for a personal interest, a forgetfulness of self, that can only come from the closest application and the most absolute concentration. i go so far in my belief of concentration to business interests in business hours as to argue that a young man's personal letters should not be sent to his office address, nor should he receive his social friends at his desk. business hours are none too long in the great majority of our offices, and, with a rest of one hour for luncheon, no one has a right to lop off fifteen minutes here to read an irrelevant personal letter, or fifteen minutes there to talk with a friend whose conversation distracts the mind from the problems before it. a young man cannot draw the line between his business life and his social life too closely. it is all too true of thousands of young men that they are better conversant during the base-ball season with the batting average of some star player, or the number of men "put out at second" by some other player, than they are with the details of their business. digression is just as dangerous as stagnation in the career of a young man in business. there is absolutely no position worth the having in business life to-day to which a care of other interests can be added. let a man attempt to serve the interests of one master, and if he serves him well he has his hands and his head full. there is a class of ambitious young men who have what they choose to call "an anchor to the windward" in their business. that is, they maintain something outside of their regular position. they do this from necessity, they claim. one position does not offer sufficient scope for their powers or talents; does not bring them sufficient income, and they are "forced," they explain, to take on something in addition. i have known such young men. but, so far as i have been able to discern, the trouble does not lie so much with the position they occupy as with themselves. when a man turns away from the position he holds to outside affairs, he turns just so far away from the surest path of success. to do one thing perfectly is better than to do two things only fairly well. it was told me once, of one of our best known actors, that outside of his stage knowledge he knew absolutely nothing. but he acted well,--so well that he stands at the head of his profession, and has an income of five figures several times over. all around geniuses are rare--so rare that we can hardly find them. to know one thing absolutely means material success and commercial and mental superiority. i dare say that if some of our young men understood more fully than they do the needs of the positions they occupy, the necessity for outside work would not exist. stagnation in a young man's career is but a synonym for starvation, since there is no such thing as standing still in the business world. we go either backward or forward; we never stand still. when a young man fails to keep abreast of the possibilities of his position he recedes constantly, though perhaps unconsciously. the young man who progresses is he who enters into the spirit of the business of his employer, and who points out new methods to him, advances new ideas, suggests new channels and outputs. there is no more direct road to the confidence of an employer than for him to see that any one of his clerks has an eye eager for the possibilities of business. that young man commands the attention of his chief at once, and when a vacancy occurs he is apt to step into it, if, indeed, he does not forge over the shoulders of others. young men who think clearly, can conceive good ideas and carry them out, are not so plentiful that even a single one will be lost sight of. it is no special art, and it reflects but little credit upon any man simply to fill a position. that is expected of him; he is engaged to do that, and it is only a fair return for a certain payment made. the art lies in doing more than was bargained for; in proving greater than was expected; in making more of a position than has ever been made before. a quick conception is needed here, the ability to view a broad horizon; for it is the liberal-minded man, not the man of narrow limitations, who makes the success of to-day. a young man showing such qualities to an employer does not remain in one position long. * * * * * two traps in which young men in business often fall are a disregard for small things, and an absolute fear of making mistakes. one of the surest keys to success lies in thoroughness. no matter how great may be the enterprise undertaken a regard for the small things is necessary. just as the little courtesies of every-day life make life the worth living, so the little details form the bone and sinew of a great success. a thing half or three-quarters done is worse than not done at all. let a man be careful of the small things in business, and he can generally be relied upon for the greater ones. the man who can overcome small worries is greater than the man who can override great obstacles. when a young man becomes so ambitious for large success that he overlooks the small things, he is pretty apt to encounter failure. there is nothing in business so infinitesimal that we can afford to do it in a slipshod fashion. it is no art to answer twenty letters in a morning when they are, in reality, only half answered. when we commend brevity in business letters, we do not mean brusqueness. nothing stamps the character of a house so clearly as the letters it sends out. the fear of making mistakes keeps many a young man down. of course, errors in business are costly, and it is better not to make them. but, at the same time, i would not give a snap of the fingers for a young man who has never made mistakes. but there are mistakes and mistakes; some easy to be excused; others not to be overlooked in the case of any employee. a mistake of judgment is possible with us all; the best of us are not above a wrong decision. and a young man who holds back for fear of making mistakes loses the first point of success. a young man in business nowadays, with an ambition to be successful, must also be careful of his social life. it is not enough that he should take care of himself during the day. to social dissipations at night can be traced the downfall of hundreds upon hundreds of young men. the idea that an employer has no control over a young man's time away from the office is a dangerous fallacy. an employer has every right to ask that those into whose hands he entrusts responsibilities shall follow social habits which will not endanger his interests upon the morrow. so far as social life is concerned, young men generally run to both extremes. either they do not go out at all, which is stagnating, or they go out too much, which is deadly. only here and there is found one who knows the happy medium. a certain amount of social diversion is essential to everybody, boy, man, girl, or woman. and particularly so to a young man with a career to make. to come into contact with the social side of people is broadening; it is educative. "to know people," says a writer, "you must see them at play." social life can be made a study at the same time that it is made a pleasure. to know the wants of people, to learn their softer side, you must come into contact with their social natures. no young man can afford to deny himself certain pleasures, or a reasonable amount of contact with people in the outer world. it is to his advantage that people should know he exists,--what his aims and aspirations are. his evening occupations should be as widely different as possible from those which occupy his thoughts in the daytime. the mind needs a change of thought as well as the body needs a change of raiment. the familiar maxim, "all work and no play makes jack a dull boy," contains a vast amount of truth. at the same time, nothing is more injurious to the chances of a young man in business than an overindulgence in the pleasures of what, for the want of a better word, we call "society." it is a rough but a true saying that "a man cannot drink whisky and be in business." perhaps a softer interpretation of the idea would be this: that a man cannot be in society and be in business. this is impossible, and nothing that a young man can bear in mind will stand him to such good account as this fact. no mind can be fresh in the morning that has been kept at a tension the night before by late hours, or befogged by indulgence in late suppers. we need more sleep at twenty-five than we do at fifty, and the young man who grants himself less than eight hours' sleep every night just robs himself of so much vitality. the loss may not be felt or noticed at present, but the process of sleeping is only nature's banking system of principal and interest. a mind capable of the fulfilment of its highest duties should be not only receptive to ideas, but quick to comprehend a point. with a fresh mind and a clear brain, a young man has two of the greatest levers of success. these cannot be retained under social indulgences. the dissipation of a night has its invariable influence upon the work of the morrow. i do not preach total abstinence from any habits to which human nature is prone. every man ought to know what is good for him and what is injurious to his best interests. an excess of anything is injurious, and a young man on the threshold of a business career cannot afford to go to the extreme in any direction. he should husband his resources, for he will need them all. for no success is easily made nowadays. appearances are tremendously deceptive in this respect. we see men making what we choose to regard and call quick success, because at a comparatively early age they acquire position or means. but one needs only to study the conditions of the business life of to-day to see how impossible it is to achieve any success except by the very hardest work. no young man need approach a business career with the idea that success is easy. the histories of successful men tell us all too clearly the lessons of patience and the efforts of years. some men compass a successful career in less time than others. and if the methods employed are necessarily different, the requirements are precisely the same. it is a story of hard work in every case, of close application and of a patient mastery of the problem in hand. advantages of education will come in at times and push one man ahead of another. but a practical business knowledge is apt to be a greater possession. * * * * * i know there are thousands of young men who feel themselves incompetent for a business career because of a lack of early education. and here might come in--if i chose to discuss the subject, which i do not--the oft-mooted question of the exact value of a college education to the young man in business. but i will say this: a young man need not feel that the lack of a college education will stand in any respect whatever in the way of his success in the business world. no college on earth ever made a business man. the knowledge acquired in college has fitted thousands of men for professional success, but it has also unfitted other thousands for a practical business career. a college training is never wasted, although i have seen again and again five-thousand-dollar educations spent on five-hundred-dollar men. where a young man can bring a college education to the requirements of a practical business knowledge, it is an advantage. but before our american colleges become an absolute factor in the business capacities of men their methods of study and learning will have to be radically changed. i have had associated with me both kinds of young men, collegiate and non-collegiate, and i must say that those who had a better knowledge of the practical part of life have been those who never saw the inside of a college and whose feet never stepped upon a campus. college-bred men, and men who never had college advantages, have succeeded in about equal ratios. the men occupying the most important commercial positions in new york to-day are self-made, whose only education has come to them from contact with that greatest college of all, the business world. far be it from me to depreciate the value of a college education. i believe in its advantages too firmly. but no young man need feel hampered because of the lack of it. if business qualities are in him they will come to the surface. it is not the college education; it is the young man. without its possession as great and honorable successes have been made as with it. men are not accepted in the business world upon their collegiate diplomas, nor on the knowledge these imply. * * * * * there are a great many young men in business to-day who grow impatient. they are in a position for a certain time; they are satisfactory to their employers, and then, because they are not promoted, they grow restless. these young men generally overlook a point or two. in the first place, they overlook the very important point that between the years of twenty and twenty-five a young man acquires rather than achieves. it is the learning period of life, the experience-gaining time. knowledge that is worth anything does not come to us until we are past twenty-five. the mind, before that age, is incapable of forming wise judgment. the great art of accurate decision in business matters is not acquired in a few weeks of commercial life. it is the result of years. it is not only the power within him, but also the experience behind him, that makes a successful business man. the commercial world is only a greater school than the one of slates and slate-pencils. no boy, after attending school for five years, would consider himself competent to teach. and surely five years of commercial apprenticeship will not fit a young man to assume a position of trust, nor give him the capacity to decide upon important business matters. in the first five years, yes, the first ten years, of a young man's business life, he is only in the primary department of the great commercial world. it is for him, then, to study methods, to observe other men--in short, to learn and not to hope to achieve. that will come later. business, simple as it may look to the young man, is, nevertheless, a very intricate affair, and it is only by years of closest study that we master an understanding of it. the electric atmosphere of the american business world is all too apt to make our young men impatient. they want to fly before they can even walk well. ambition is a splendid thing in any young man. but he must not forget that, like fire and water, it makes a good servant but a poor master. getting along too fast is just as injurious as getting along too slow. a young man between twenty and twenty-five must be patient. i know patience is a difficult thing to cultivate, but it is among the first lessons we must learn in business. a good stock of patience, acquired in early life, will stand a man in good stead in later years. it is a handy thing to have and draw upon, and makes a splendid safety-valve. because a young man, as he approaches twenty-five, begins to see things more plainly than he did five years before, he must not get the idea that he is a business man yet, and entitled to a man's salary. if business questions, which he did not understand five years before, now begin to look clearer to him, it is because he is passing through the transitory state that separates the immature judgment of the young man from the ripening penetration of the man. he is simply beginning. afterward he will grow, and his salary will grow as he grows. but rome wasn't built in a day, and a business man isn't made in a night. as experience comes, the judgment will become mature, and by the time the young man reaches thirty he will begin to realize that he didn't know as much at twenty-five as he thought he did. when he is ready to learn from others he will begin to grow wise. and when he reaches that state where he is willing to concede that he hasn't a "corner" on knowledge in this world, he will be stepping out of the chrysalis of youth. * * * * * there is another point upon which young men are often in doubt, and that is, just how far it pays to be honest in business. "does it really pay to be honest in business?" they ask, and they are sincere and in earnest in the question. now, the simple fact of the matter is that a business success is absolutely impossible upon any other basis than one of the strictest honesty. the great trouble with young men, nowadays, is that their ideas are altogether too much influenced by a few unfortunate examples of apparent success which are prominent--too prominent, alas!--in american life to-day. these "successful men"--for the most part identified in some way with politics--are talked about incessantly; interviewed by reporters; buy lavish diamonds for their wives, and build costly houses,--all of which is duly reported in the newspapers. young men read these things and ask themselves, "if he can do it, why not i?" then they begin to look around for some "short cut to success," as one young fellow expressed it to me not long ago. it is owing to this practice of "cutting across lots" in business that scores of young men find themselves, after awhile in tight places. and the man who has once had about him an unsavory taint in his business methods rarely, very rarely, rids himself of that atmosphere in the eyes of his acquaintances. how often we see some young man in business, representative of the very qualities that should win success. every one agrees that he is brilliant. "he is clever," is the general verdict. his manner impresses one pleasantly, he is thoroughly businesslike, is energetic, and yet, somehow, he never seems to stick to one place. people wonder at it, and excuse it on the ground that he hasn't found the right place. but some day the secret is explained. "yes, he is clever," says some old business man, "but do you know he isn't--well, he isn't quite safe!" "quite safe!" how much that expresses; how clearly that defines hundreds and hundreds of the smartest young men in business to-day. he is everything else--but he isn't "quite safe!" he is not dishonest in any way, but he is, what is equally as bad, not quite reliable. to attain success he has, in other words, tried to "cut across lots." and rainbow-chasing is really a very commendable business in comparison to a young man's search for the "royal road to success." no success worth attaining is easy; the greater the obstacles to overcome, the surer is the success when attained. "royal roads" are poor highways to travel in any pursuit, and especially in a business calling. it is strange how reluctant young men are to accept, as the most vital truth in life, that the most absolute honesty is the only kind of honesty that succeeds in business. it isn't a question of religion or religious beliefs. honesty does not depend upon any religious creed or dogma that was ever conceived. it is a question of a young man's own conscience. he knows what is right and what is wrong. and yet, simple as the matter is, it is astonishing how difficult it is of understanding. an honest course in business seems too slow to the average young man. "i can't afford to plod along. i must strike and strike quickly," is the sentiment. ah, yes, my friend, but not dishonestly. no young man can afford even to think of dishonesty. success on honorable lines may sometimes seem slower in coming, but when it does come it outrivals in permanency all the so-called successes gained by other methods. to look at the methods of others is always a mistake. the successes of to-day are not given to the imitator, but to the originator. it makes no difference how other men may succeed--their success is theirs and not yours. you cannot partake of it. every man is a law unto himself. the most absolute integrity is the one and the only sure foundation of success. such a success is lasting. other kinds of success may seem so, but it is all in the seeming, and not in the reality. let a young man swerve from the path of honesty, and it will surprise him how quickly every avenue of permanent success is closed against him. it is the young man of unquestioned integrity who is selected for the important position. no business man ever places his affairs in the hands of a young man whom he feels he cannot unhesitatingly trust. and to be trusted means to be honest. honesty, and that alone, commands confidence. an honest life, well directed, is the only life for a young man to lead. it is the one life that is compatible with the largest and surest business success. * * * * * and so it is easy enough for any young man to succeed, provided he is willing to bear in mind a few very essential truths. and they are: above all things he should convince himself that he is in a congenial business. whether it be a trade or a profession,--both are honorable and profitable,--let him satisfy himself, above everything else, that it enlists his personal interest. if a man shows that he has his work at heart his success can be relied on. personal interest in any work will bring other things; but all the other essentials combined cannot create personal interest. that must exist first; then two-thirds of the battle is won. fully satisfied that he is in the particular line of business in which he feels a stronger, warmer interest than in any other, then he should remember: first--that, whatever else he may strive to be, he must be absolutely honest. from honorable principles he never should swerve. there can be no half-way compromise. second--he must be alert, alive to every opportunity. he cannot afford to lose a single point, for that single point may prove to be the very link that would make complete the whole chain of a business success. third--he must ever be willing to learn, never overlooking the fact that others have long ago forgotten what he has still to learn. firmness of decision is an admirable trait in business. the young man whose opinions can be tossed from one side to the other is poor material. but youth is full of errors, and caution is a strong trait. fourth--if he be wise he will entirely avoid the use of liquors. if the question of harm done by intoxicating liquor is an open one, the question of the actual good derived from it is not. fifth--let him remember that a young man's strongest recommendation is his respectability. some young men, apparently successful, may be flashy in dress, loud in manner, disrespectful to women and irreverent toward sacred things. but the young man who is respectable always wears best. the way a young man carries himself in his private life ofttimes means much to him in his business career. no matter where he is, or in whose company, respectability, and all that it implies, will always command respect. * * * * * if any young man wishes a set of rules even more concise, here it is: get into a business you like. devote yourself to it. be honest in everything. be cautious. think carefully about a thing before you act. sleep eight hours every night. do everything that means keeping in good health. don't worry. worry kills more men than work does. avoid liquors of all kinds. if you must smoke, smoke moderately. shun discussion on two points,--religion and politics. marry a good woman, and have your own home. satisfaction guaranteed by joy leache illustrated by gaughan [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from galaxy magazine december 1961. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] interstellar trouble-shooting is the easiest work there is. all you need is brains, energy--and a steno with nice legs! andrew stephens was trying to think of two things at once, and it wasn't working out. an inspirational message (delivered by crumbly, president of planetary promotions, inc.) was mixing itself up in his mind with the probable difficulties of his first company assignment. he hoped he was thinking, and not worrying. crumbly said worry was fatal in the promotion business. it was fervor, not fret, crumbly said, that had made planetary promotions, inc., what it was today. and it was work, not worry, that would make it what it was destined to be tomorrow. andy stephens stared at the farthest corner of his office (about four feet from his nose) and sighed. he didn't have a slogan in his body, let alone on (or off) the top of his head. his assignment was an easy one, crumbly had assured him. planetary promotions always started new men off with easy ones. only fair. andy squared his narrowish shoulders in as close an imitation of crumbly's desk-side manner as he could, and picked up the dope sheet. it seemed there was a planet, felix ii, somewhere near the edge of nowhere. it wanted to join the galactic federation. a laudable desire, andy thought, but strictly a political matter, having nothing to do with planetary promotions, or andrew stephens. however, it also seemed that a planet had to demonstrate that it would be contributing something to the federation before it was allowed to join. in other words, andy thought, you have to have something they want, or they won't let you in. a buzzer squawked out of the dun-colored box on his desk. andy jumped, and flipped the lever. "the bus to the port will be at the door in seven minutes," the grim voice of the lower office co-ordinator told him. "a stenographer will meet you on the ship." "thank you, miss ellis," andy said meekly. he stuffed the dope sheet into his jacket and left the main office for felix ii. * * * * * "excuse me," said a feminine voice. "are you with planetary promotions?" andy looked up. a sandy-haired girl with a passable figure and nice legs was looking down at him. "yes," he said. "i'm andy stephens." the girl looked relieved. "i'm edith featherpenny from the steno pool," she said. "i was afraid i wouldn't be able to find you." "sit down," andy invited. he moved, and miss featherpenny moved. between them, they unsettled a large woman eating an orange. when the juice had been mopped up and the woman apologized to, miss featherpenny squeezed in beside andy. "is that the information on the case?" she indicated the dope sheet crumpled under andy's arm. "yes." andy tried to pull it out. "were you issued one?" he moved his elbow and tried again. the orange woman glared at him. miss featherpenny shook her head. "miss ellis told me you'd tell me everything i needed to know." andy felt obscurely flattered. "it doesn't look too promising," he admitted. miss featherpenny glanced at the dope sheet and found a ray of hope. "the federation only requires that the felician exports are nearly as valuable as their imports," she pointed out. "'nearly' is a nice vague, maneuverable word." "but," said andy, "if the felicians can't think of anything to sell, how do they expect me to?" "maybe they're too isolated to know what's in demand," miss featherpenny comforted him. "it says they won't authorize ships to land on the planet except by invitation." "it might be isolation, i suppose," andy doubted. he felt an urge to confide in miss featherpenny. she did, after all, look as if there might be something besides fluff in her head. "look," he said. "this is my first assignment, on my fourth job, on my second career. i've got to make good. my father is beginning to get impatient." miss featherpenny's eyes grew softer. "fathers are usually more patient than their children think," she encouraged. "but," andy added morosely, "i have a brother, a salesman with universal products. he keeps getting promoted, and i keep getting fired. dad must be conscious of the contrast." "maybe," miss featherpenny suggested, "your brother's been lucky. you know, being assigned jobs that were easier than they sound." andy glanced at her to see if he was being humored. he decided he was not, or not much. "i've tried to believe that," he admitted. "unfortunately, lloyd keeps proving me wrong. he got his last promotion for selling fancy food products to the mahridgians." miss featherpenny had obviously never even heard of mahridge. "they have a strong taboo against eating," andy explained. "they swallow concentrates to keep alive, but it's still not quite decent. on mahridge, it's the dining room, not the bathroom, that has a door with a lock on it for privacy. "is he married?" asked miss featherpenny, who didn't intend to be a steno all her life. "i mean," she added quickly, "his wife would get anxious about his selling something like that, that could get him put in prison, or killed. how did he do it?" there was a certain coolness in andy's voice. "he took a lead from the dope peddlers. he converted the adolescent mahridgians first. it's all right to eat on mahridge now." miss featherpenny diplomatized. "i don't think that's ethical. convincing people to do what they think is wrong." andy was still suspicious. he said, "ethical or not, he got the promotion." * * * * * they stood at the edge of the only launching pad on felix ii, and surveyed the landscape. thirty feet away, there was a barnsized stone building with a weedy roof. aside from some rounded blue hills in the distance, and a felician leaning against the building, there was not much to detain the eye. miss featherpenny giggled softly in surprise. "he looks like a leprechaun," she said. "the sheet didn't say that." "tourist trade," andy breathed, his eyes gleaming with the solution of his problem. since the two-foot-tall welcoming committee showed no signs of moving, they started toward him. "my name," andy said in galactic, "is andrew stephens. i'm here from planetary promotions." "i know," the felician muttered ungraciously. "i came out from town to meet you. my name is blahrog. who's this?" "my steno, miss featherpenny." "urk." obviously blahrog had never heard the term "steno" and was interpreting it freely. "i'm in charge of our admission to the federation. that means i'm in charge of you." he eyed andy unenthusiastically. "you haven't had much experience with this kind of thing, have you?" andy had a wild rush of hope. if the felician government rejected him as a representative, he could go home without a failure on his record, and pray for a simpler assignment. even p. p. didn't consider an agent responsible for the unpredictable whims of aliens. "no, i haven't," he replied cheerfully. "i was hoping maybe you had." miss featherpenny, who hadn't read the contract, gasped. blahrog, who had read the contract, replied, "i haven't. let's get on into town where we can discuss the possibilities in comfort." they set out, walking unequally through the thick white dust that passed for paving on felix ii. "don't you use ground cars?" miss featherpenny choked at the end of the first half-mile. "don't have technology," blahrog growled, stumping grimly along. "the everking has a car, but he doesn't use it much. no fuel." as he walked, andy composed a speech on the merits of the tourist business, to be delivered to the everking. miss featherpenny grew visibly more depressed with each mile. she uttered an involuntary cry when the guard of the city gate appeared with a slender mug in each hand. "felician ladies don't drink," blahrog said gruffly. "i can fetch you a glass of water," the guard offered, without enthusiasm. "thank you," said miss featherpenny, with an attempt at sincerity. the contents of his mug made andy choke. "tastes something like cider," he gasped. blahrog downed his without a wink. "it's customary to give a guest a mug of throatduster as a sign of gratitude because he walked so far in the dust." "in this dust," miss featherpenny murmured to her second glass of water, "any distance is far." "thoughtful custom," andy said quickly. "could you export the beverage?" "sell throatduster?" blahrog was indignant. "it would be a breach of hospitality. besides, felix ii can't produce enough second-rate stuff, let alone first-rate. sometimes, in a bad year, we have to greet guests with water." "what a pity," said miss featherpenny. * * * * * she became increasingly unsympathetic as andy swallowed another throatduster at the door of the palace (a one-story building similar to a small barn), and yet another in the presence of the everking (an eighteen-inch felician with a beard-warmed paunch). andy watched the everking dim and blur on his wooden throne. swaying slightly, he muttered, "i wonder what proof this stuff is?" "in short, mr. stephens," blahrog was translating, "we cannot think of a single product which we could sell. have you any immediate suggestions?" blahrog's expression indicated that he ought to say something, but andy couldn't think of a thing, except that he didn't need any more throatduster. "no," he said firmly, if faintly. "thank you very much, but no." he passed out cold. "i'm afraid the journey was too much for him," miss featherpenny put in. "ah, yes," blahrog translated for the everking. "throatduster has that effect on some life forms. perhaps he had better retire, and discuss the situation more fully tomorrow." the everking motioned to a pair of stout-looking guards (thirty inches tall, at least). they towed miss featherpenny's immediate superior out of the royal presence. "they will show him to his room," blahrog explained. the everking let loose a quick stream of felician. "would you," blahrog addressed miss featherpenny, "enjoy meeting my daughter? the everking suggests it, since our affairs could hardly be of interest to you." "i'd be very pleased." the words were not empty ones. edith featherpenny's education in coping with men had not extended to felician males. blahrog frightened her with a feeling of superior and incomprehensible intelligence. hrom, although seventeen inches tall and weighing perhaps eleven pounds, was definitely feminine and comprehensible. "why don't women drink throatduster?" miss featherpenny asked, on the strength of a two-hour acquaintance. "the men grow the grain here," hrom explained, "and it's theirs as long as it's in the fields. however, we consider harvesting women's work. we also make the throatduster. then we sell it to the men. we don't drink because it is uneconomical." "does everyone grow his own grain?" "not any more. town women have other sources of dress money. the custom started that way, that's all." "if you'll forgive my saying so," miss featherpenny remarked, "that dress you are wearing must have taken a big chunk out of your pocket." hrom sighed. "in my mother's time, i would have thought nothing of it. now, one such gown is all i can afford." "i would have thought your father was one of the wealthier men on felix ii," miss featherpenny remarked. "he is _the_ wealthiest," hrom said. "the richest man is always minister of finance. it's only reasonable." her tone changed. "we're all poor now, since the tourist industry failed. it took every dnot we had to pay for the contract." invisible antennae shot from miss featherpenny's forehead. "you must be quite sure that planetary promotions won't fail you." she tried her best to sound casual. hrom smiled faintly. "have another of these seed cakes," she said. "thank you. they are delicious." miss featherpenny took one, regardless of calories. "of course, there is the guarantee clause: 'double your money back.'" hrom busily fluffed a cushion. "one must have some insurance," she said, having her turn at sounding casual. "tell me, are they wearing large or small hats on earth this season?" miss featherpenny conceded defeat. "it's all bonnets for summer," she said. * * * * * her first impulse was to tell andy that she thought the felicians had bought the guarantee clause, not the contract. it died at her first sight of the morning-after andy. the situation must be pretty desperate, she rationalized, when the wealthiest girl on the planet has only one dress. this is probably their last chance. andy tried to conceal his headache by being brisk and efficient. "have you considered your natural resources?" blahrog, slow and shrewdly inefficient, said, "we mine soft coal. enough for our own fires and to spare." "no one within a hundred light-years of felix ii uses coal for fuel anymore," andy said gently. "do you have enough for the plastic industries?" "we have four freighters surplus every season." blahrog was evidently banking heavily on the coal. andy wondered if coal were the only surplus on felix ii. "what are you doing with your surplus at present?" he inquired tactfully, hoping that blahrog would realize, without being told, the impossibility of supporting the population of felix ii on four freighters of soft coal. "we store it up," was the crafty answer, "and sell it to the synthetics plants on darius iv when the ionian miners go on strike." "how long since the ionians struck?" if this economic event occurred regularly, the coal surplus could assist in meeting the federation's requirements. "twenty seasons or so." blahrog's tone was off-handed, but his eyes slid guiltily toward andy and away again. andy sighed. "any other resources?" they went quickly through minerals, agricultural products and animal skins; established that felicians could not teleport, levitate or read minds. they were technologically uneducated, and had no industry on the factory-system level. "it is coal or nothing, mr. stephens," blahrog said with finality. "isn't there some way to make the federation believe that our coal is superior to other coal, and worth more?" "do you, perchance, own a sizable proportion of felician coal reserves?" blahrog nodded, guilty looking again. "well, forget it. there isn't enough." * * * * * the everking, who had been holding andy's translator to his ear in silence, burst into speech. "his foreverness says," blahrog remarked cannily, "that it appears impossible for felix ii to join the federation." "we aren't through yet," andy said quickly. "what about the tourist industry? if you'd allow visitors and advertise a little...." "no," the everking shouted, in galactic. "we tried that during the last reign," blahrog said. "it didn't work." "you're pretty far off the shipping lanes, i'll admit," andy said, "but surely you could attract enough tourists from somewhere to show a profit." "we showed a profit," blahrog said morosely. he translated a remark of the everking's. "we made money hand over fist." "then why did you quit?" andy was baffled. "why did you restrict the planet?" "because of the way we happen to look." "like leprechauns," miss featherpenny explained. "and hrom looks exactly like a little christmas fairy." blahrog winced. "the tourists found us amusing. we weren't real to them. it became difficult for us to seem real to ourselves. most of my generation couldn't grow up. the birth rate dropped. we closed the planet to keep the race alive. that's all there is to it." "surely," andy protested, "if you handled it differently...." "tourists," blahrog translated for the everking, "are out of the question." "i remember hearing about an intelligent life form that resembled teddy bears," miss featherpenny said thoughtfully. "everybody loved them on sight." "what happened to them?" blahrog asked with interest. "they became extinct." * * * * * andy glared at her. how could he accomplish anything with a stupid steno butting in? she looked away, guilty. "it's such a simple solution," he said. "it fits your situation perfectly." "that's what we thought, until we tried it," blahrog said, grinning sidelong at miss featherpenny. "if you won't try tourists," andy snapped at both of them, "i don't see exactly what you can do." "maybe you didn't cover everything in the special abilities list," miss featherpenny suggested softly. andy glared at her again. "all right, blahrog. can you think of anything you can do that most other species can't?" blahrog looked at the floor and considered. "we can walk a long way without getting tired," he offered. andy sighed, and wrote "endurance?" on his scratch pad. it was scarcely saleable. "is there anything else? anything you know how to make? besides throatduster." "we make good shoes," blahrog said hopefully. "the tourists used to buy lots of them." "hum," andy cogitated. "here we have something for which a market already exists. if we can expand the market and the production facilities...." he nailed blahrog with a finger, in conscious imitation of crumbly. "how many pairs of shoes can felix ii produce in a single season?" "if the reserves were called in to the cobbler's guild, it would be almost half the manpower of the planet...." blahrog paused, doing mental arithmetic. "four and a half million pairs, more or less." he sounded as though he were surprised. "that ought to do it," andy said gleefully. "but where will we find that many pairs of feet?" blahrog asked. "there are eight million times that many pairs of feet in the federation," andy said. "leave the advertising to planetary promotions." "it seems sort of poetic," miss featherpenny romanced. "leprechauns are supposed to be cobblers." blahrog snorted. andy turned and addressed her from the full distance between a promoter third class and a girl from the steno pool. "miss featherpenny, i will ask for your opinion when i want it." miss featherpenny answered from her side of the gulf. "yes, sir." andy had always despised rank-pullers. he turned to blahrog "i'll have to send the dope back to the home office so they can put it through the computer and send me the ad-intensity index." blahrog looked a polite enquiry. "that will tell us how effective the ad campaign will have to be to make a go of this. what's the fastest way to send a message to earth?" "radiogram the satellite station," blahrog answered. "they'll relay it to the next ship within range, and the ship will relay it to the next planet it nears with the radiogram facilities to send it to earth." "how long will it take to get an answer?" andy asked. "about twelve days." * * * * * they didn't stare at the sky while they waited for the answer. blahrog called the members of the cobbler's guild together, and delivered a series of lectures on their importance to the future of felix ii. foreseeing a return to political and economic power, the reserve members dusted off their lasts and aprons and got back into practice. for the first time in nearly thirty seasons, the applications for apprenticeship were too numerous to handle. new life showed on their faces. the master cobblers (including the everking and blahrog) worked around the clock, fabricating plastic lasts. miss featherpenny and hrom dug pictures and descriptions of the various types of galactic feet that habitually or occasionally wore shoes out of old periodicals, located by members of the newly-organized ladies' auxiliary. felix ii was humming, if not absolutely singing, with industry and good humor. some of it rubbed off on andy. he relented toward miss featherpenny to the extent of presenting her with a pair of felician shoes, fabricated by the everking. they were of the sensible walking variety, and not miss featherpenny's style. nevertheless, she was extremely pleased with the gift. like all felician shoes, they fit her perfectly. the everking, backed by his debators and ministers, issued public thanks to one andrew stephens, restorer of hope, and propagator of economic equality. the ladies' auxiliary gave a tea in miss featherpenny's honor. they were both showered with gifts from a grateful and admiring populace. the reply to the message was signed by crumbly himself. "forlorn hope," it said unsympathetically. "try something else. computer indicates ad intensity of 0.94." an ad intensity of 0.0001 means you sell someone something he wants anyway. an intensity of 1.0 means you have to make the consumer love something he thinks he hates. * * * * * andy sent a young felician on the run for blahrog, and retired to the storeroom of blahrog's dwelling, which housed two fair-sized plastic barrels of throatduster. "but you have to try," blahrog insisted, finishing his second mug of hospitality. "snow good," andy said, deep into his fifth. "even gray flannel, ad man in legend, only got to 0.87. simpossible." blahrog, who knew little about advertising or computers, repeated, "you must try. no member of the cobbler's guild has ever quit without trying." andy had been accepted as an apprentice of the guild the night before. "dunno," he said. "tell you simpossible." blahrog climbed off the barrel of throatduster. "i'll go get miss featherpenny," he said. "perhaps she can help you." "miss featherpenny. bah," andy snorted. "what good would she be? dumb steno." he tried to be fair. "nice legs, i admit. but no brains." "i'll go get miss featherpenny," blahrog repeated firmly, closing the door behind him.... "what frame of mind is he in?" miss featherpenny looked uncertainly at the heavy door to andy's store room. "drunk," blahrog informed her coldly. it takes an enormous quantity of throatduster to intoxicate a felician. intoxication is therefore considered bad form. "and belligerent," the minister of finance added. "oh, dear." miss featherpenny looked at the door again. "but what can i do?" she asked in a helpless voice. "i'm not a promoter." "he said," blahrog indicated the door, "that you were a dumb steno." "well!" hrom exclaimed. miss featherpenny's hackles invisibly rose. her mouth visibly tightened. she turned away from the door. hrom said, "you ought to try to show him." miss featherpenny looked at them, and at the surrounding examples of felician landscape and architecture. "mr. blahrog," she said suddenly, "you don't mind looking like a leprechaun, do you? as long as you don't have to meet people?" blahrog's silence was more than dignified. "what do you mean?" hrom asked. "you wouldn't mind if we used a picture of a master cobbler in the ad, would you?" blahrog thawed abruptly. "you have an idea?" "if you don't mind the picture." "he doesn't mind," hrom said, adding in felician, "after all, papa, we don't have to let any ships but the freighters land." "go ahead, then," blahrog consented. "good luck," hrom added. * * * * * "you," andy welcomed her. "bah." he shut his eyes. most of him was sprawled out on the floor. "yes, me," miss featherpenny agreed, repressing an inclination to kick him. she sat down on one of the kegs, and opened her stenographer's book. "i came to take down the ad for the shoes," she announced. "what ad?" andy moaned. "the newest, biggest, brightest ads can't get over an 0.62. how can i manage an 0.94? you're crazy." he opened his eyes. "but you do have nice legs." "felix ii is sort of quaint," miss featherpenny suggested. "why not use an old ad?" "an idea," andy enunciated, without hope. "it's sort of pretty too," miss featherpenny nudged. "we could use a color picture of it," andy said, kicking thoughtfully at an overturned stool. "the felicians are quaint looking, too." "sure," andy said. "put a felician in the foreground, cobbling." he tried to sit up. "i've seen ads like that in history books," miss featherpenny said, exuding admiration. "it's so old it's new," andy said, lying down again. "old english lettering over the top. a real cliche." he considered miss featherpenny's ankle. "peaceful scenery, felician shoes?" "not quite," said miss featherpenny. "quiet field, felician shoes?" "nope," said miss featherpenny. "you're an aggravating woman," andy said sweetly, "but you do have nice legs." "what about elysian fields?" miss featherpenny suggested. andy tasted it. "elysian fields, felician shoes." he tried to sit up again. "you got all that down?" he demanded. "yes," miss featherpenny lied. she had it in her head, but not on the steno pad. "then get somebody to send it off so we can find out if it's good enough. and come back soon." he wobbled on his elbow. "you do have...." "i think i'd better attend to sending it personally." miss featherpenny opened the door. "you rest until you feel better." blahrog had gone, but hrom was waiting for her. she looked more like a christmas fairy than usual. a mischievous one. "did you manage?" she whispered. "barely." miss featherpenny looked grim. "drink this," hrom ordered, holding out a mug of throatduster. miss featherpenny was surprised. "i thought ladies didn't drink on felix ii." "there are," hrom said, "exceptions." * * * * * the next twelve days of waiting for computer results were not as hopefully active as the first twelve. the felicians finished setting up their manufacturing and storing systems, but they didn't start making shoes. the cattle drovers forbore to slaughter the beasts who provided the leather. the everking and his debators all developed severe cases of beard-itch, a felician nervous disorder. since it is even more unseemly to scratch on felix ii than it is on earth, they retired temporarily from public life. andy also retired from public life, biting his fingernails, an earther nervous disorder. blahrog joined him in the illness, which was new to felicians. by the time the answer from planetary promotions came it was the most fashionable habit on the planet, in spite of the fact that felicians have extremely tough nails, and a pair of bony ridges rather than true teeth. the second message was also direct from crumbly. it read: "computer rates ad campaign at intensity 0.942. p. p. in action by the time you receive this. stephens ordered back to home office; promoted to first class." four earth months later, miss featherpenny entered andy's ten by twelve office, her high heels clicking on the plastic tiles, and laid a memorandum on the new steel desk. "they've been admitted," she announced. "what? who?" andy said irritably. there were times when he thought her position as his private secretary had gone to her head. "felix ii has been admitted to the federation. the contract has been fulfilled." she smiled brightly. "shall i mark the file closed?" "can't yet," andy said. "felix ii won't be a permanent member of the federation until they've been self-supporting for ten years." "why?" asked miss featherpenny. "it's a precautionary measure," andy began to explain. "oh, let's go get some lunch and forget felix ii." "yes, mr. stephens," miss featherpenny said meekly. he followed her out the door, admiring the effect of her plastic skirt. she did have nice legs.... * * * * * three years later, edith featherpenny was forced to remember felix ii. there was a communication on her mock-baroque desk. felician shoes weren't selling. felix ii wasn't making enough money. the galactic federation was threatening to take steps. she glanced at the impressive door to the inner office. andy, she knew, was engaged in reading a letter from his brother lloyd, who had just been promoted to vice-president of universal products. she judiciously forged his initials on an order to put data on the felix ii failure through the computer. in an hour and a half she had the answer. the felicians hadn't changed the styles, and their shoes didn't wear out. everybody had a pair. she considered the door again. there was really little sense in disturbing andy over such a simple matter. she forged his name on a message to blahrog. "change the styles of your shoes." she then picked up some carefully selected problem sheets from the top of the filing cabinet, and went through the impressive door. the next morning, blahrog's answer was on her desk. "felician shoes are of the cut most suited to the feet that wear them. to change them would be both foolish and unethical." it was a good thing, miss featherpenny thought, that andy was feeling better today. she went into his office, padding softly over the carpet to his contemporary prestwood desk. "good morning, edie," andy said cheerfully. "what happened? lightning strike you?" "practically," miss featherpenny said. "it's felix ii again." she handed over the sheaf of papers. "why didn't you tell me about this yesterday?" andy muttered, reading them. "i thought i could handle it." miss featherpenny made a face. "until i got that answer this morning." "it sounds like typical felician thinking," andy said. "there's no sense trying to argue by mail." he sighed. "you'd better reserve a first-class passage for me on the first ship out." "can't i go?" miss featherpenny asked. "who'd run the office?" "the stenos can stack stuff until we get back." miss featherpenny looked wistful. "i was in on the beginning of it. i want to see it through. besides, i'd like to see hrom again." "oh, all right," andy agreed. "make it two first class." * * * * * blahrog was waiting on the long porch of the space port dining room. "have a nice trip?" he asked. "what's all this about not changing the shoe styles?" andy countered. "as i told you in the message," blahrog said impatiently, "we make our shoes in the best possible shapes for the feet that will wear them. there isn't any good reason to change them." "you can't sell people two pairs of identical shoes," andy insisted. "you might be able to sell them if you changed them," miss featherpenny added, sounding reasonable. "save your arguments for the everking," blahrog said. "come on to the car." "car?" miss featherpenny exclaimed. "the everking's?" "no, mine." blahrog couldn't keep the pride out of his voice. "there are nearly two hundred cars on felix ii." andy went over the same ground in the presence of the everking. it didn't help. the everking, his minister and his debators were solidly against changing the shoes. the ethics of the cobblers' guild were involved. "if you won't follow planetary promotions' advice," he said at last, "the company can't be responsible for the outcome." he glared at the assembly. "in other words, the guarantee clause is cancelled." there was an indignant and concerned buzz from the audience. blahrog got up. "your foreverness," he said, "honorable members of the government, mr. stephens. three earth years ago, felix ii gathered together all the money the government could find, and bought a contract with planetary promotions." he paused and shuffled his feet. "we did not expect the contract to be fulfilled. we needed money, and two for one would keep us going while we attempted to educate the young to be immune to the tourists. of course, if planetary promotions found a way for us to be self-supporting without tourists, we would be equally pleased." "i thought so," miss featherpenny murmured. "really," andy said. "why didn't you let me in on it?" blahrog cleared his throat to indicate that he wasn't through. "since a way was found," he continued, "felician self respect and content has increased along with felician prosperity." he glanced uneasily at andy. "we would like to continue as we are going." "unless you change the styles," andy said flatly, "that is impossible." * * * * * miss featherpenny, realizing that they were starting over the same ground, slipped out the door and walked over to visit hrom. "so papa admitted it," hrom said, after miss featherpenny had admired the baby, and been shown over the house. "i almost told you myself, when i first met you." "you told me enough to let me guess the rest," miss featherpenny said. "have some olgan seed cakes," hrom offered. "why didn't you tell mr. stephens?" miss featherpenny took a cake. "partly because of his almighty attitude, and partly because i was on your.... ow!" she clapped a hand hastily to her jaw. "what's wrong?" hrom asked, alarmed. "broke a tooth," miss featherpenny muttered, her face contorted. "does it hurt much?" hrom's question was part sympathy and part curiosity. miss featherpenny nodded. "i'll have to find a dentist right away." "what's a dentist?" "man who fixes your teeth." "but we don't have teeth," hrom said. "i forgot," miss featherpenny moaned. "oh, lord, i guess i'll have to go all the way back to earth." hrom shook her head. "there are a lot of earthers living on darius iv. they must have a dentist. there's a ship every morning." "fine," miss featherpenny gasped. "can i get you something for the pain? would an aspirtran help?" "i'd better have two. thanks." "here. take the bottle with you." hrom was frowning worriedly. "my, i'm glad we don't have teeth." "i'll have to tell andy--mr. stephens--that i'm leaving." inspiration dawned on hrom's face. "i've hardly been out of the house since the baby was born. i'll leave him with my husband's mother and go with you." "i'd be glad of the company," miss featherpenny admitted. "good. i'll find out what time the ship leaves, and tell mother klagom about the treat she's got coming. you go tell mr. stephens and then come back here for the night." miss featherpenny heard them shouting before she opened the council chamber door. "i suggest," andy was saying, "that you either change the styles or go back to the tourist business." she pushed the door open. "mr. stephens," blahrog said mildly, "the last time calamity was upon us, you solved the problem by drinking throatduster until you got an idea. may i suggest that you try again?" "andy," miss featherpenny whispered. "well?" he snapped. "i broke a tooth. i'm going over to darius iv tomorrow, with hrom, to have it fixed." "why darius iv?" andy demanded. "what's the matter with felician dentists?" "what's hrom going to do with boy?" blahrog demanded. "hrom's leaving the baby with mrs. klagom," miss featherpenny answered, "and there aren't any felician dentists." "mrs. klagom is a silly woman," blahrog disapproved. "she would do better to leave him with me." "if you must, i suppose you must," andy admitted grudgingly. "where are you going now?" "back to hrom's house to lie down." "tell her i'll mind the baby," blahrog called after her. as she closed the door, she heard andy say, "gentlemen, if you'll supply the throatduster, i'll give it a try." * * * * * "it's awfully quiet," hrom said doubtfully, looking around at the felician spaceport. "look at the tannery chimneys. no smoke." miss featherpenny, her mouth in good repair, glanced into the bar as they passed it. "only two shippers," she said. "there are usually dozens." "they must have stopped production entirely," hrom said. "maybe andy thought of something." "i wonder if papa brought the car down for us." he hadn't. they walked into town. blahrog was in conference with the everking. "i'd better wait for him," miss featherpenny said. "i want to find out what's going on before i talk to andy." "i'd better rescue mother klagom from the baby." blahrog was as long-winded as usual. "where is mr. stephens?" miss featherpenny demanded, as soon as she saw him coming down the hall. "in his old storeroom," blahrog said moodily. "he's quite drunk, i believe, but he doesn't seem to be getting any ideas." "then why did you stop cobbling?" blahrog did a felician shrug. "we're waiting to see what happens. there's no sense making shoes any more if they aren't wanted." "i have to talk to him," miss featherpenny said. "do you have an idea?" "no," miss featherpenny lied. "but you'd let him drink himself to death, if he didn't think of anything." "you want a lift in the car?" blahrog asked, uninsulted. "i'd be pleased, if you don't mind. i just walked in from the port." * * * * * andy was not, as blahrog had suggested, very drunk. he was only hung over. "get your tooth fixed?" he asked cheerlessly. "yes." "good dentist?" miss featherpenny nodded. "he had some entirely new equipment. extremely powerful, and quite precise." "oh?" andy straightened in the old arm chair. "i've been trying to think. and drinking. throatduster isn't working this time." he paused to reconsider. "except that it makes me drunk. everything keeps getting fuzzy, and my head is wider than my shoulders." "the dentist said," miss featherpenny persisted, "that he could pull a whale's tooth as easily and smoothly as he pulled mine." "you had to have it pulled? too bad." andy made a face at the full mug of throatduster on the barrel beside him. "the felicians won't change their minds about the shoes, and they won't try tourists again. i can't think of anything else. and they can claim the guarantee. i was bluffing." "i know," miss featherpenny said. she tried again. "the dentist claims even the tiniest species could do dental work on the biggest species." she paused, hoping it would sink in. "providing the tiny species had sufficient dexterity." "blasted felicians," andy muttered. "stubborn little pigs." "that's part of their trouble, i think," miss featherpenny said. "being little, i mean. but it doesn't always work against them. when they're doing delicate work...." "like those shoes," andy agreed. "'best possible shapes already,'" he imitated blahrog. "they're one of the smallest intelligent species," miss featherpenny said in desperation. "and their manual dexterity rating is one of the highest. why, a felician could get both hands inside an earther's mouth." "and steal his fillings...." andy started. "wait a minute. you've given me an idea." miss featherpenny breathed relief. "i have? what is it?" "dentists! they can all be dentists." "all?" "well, enough of them to provide for the planet's income." "why, that's marvelous," miss featherpenny said. "it won't matter that other species think they're cute. everybody takes dentists seriously." "their appearance will work for them," andy said. "think of children's dentistry." "let's go tell them right away," miss featherpenny said, feeling like a bobbsey twin. andy swayed upward. "sit still," miss featherpenny commanded. "i'll bring you some coffee." * * * * * blahrog accepted the suggestion with felician phlegm and ministerial greed. "we'll have to change the tax system, since most of our working population will be living off-planet." "maybe you could work out a rotation system, papa." hrom had sneaked into the council chamber. "wait a minute," andy said uneasily. "how are you going to educate these dentists?" blahrog stopped and thought. "we'll use the hotels for schools," he said slowly. his face wrinkled with sly pleasure. "and we can sell the coal surplus to pay teachers and buy equipment." the everking made a wicked-sounding comment in felician. the entire assembly burst into loud, beard-wagging laughter. it had a nasty ring to it. "what did he say?" andy demanded. "he said," hrom giggled, "'let them try to treat us like stuffed toys now.'" "disgusting," said miss featherpenny. "indecent, edie," andy agreed. "but never mind. let's go home and get married." "you're a little sudden." andy grinned. "i'll have a raise coming for this, and i'd like to keep you in the family. i can't seem to think unless you're around." "took you long enough to notice," said miss featherpenny. but she didn't say it out loud. generously made available by the internet archive/canadian libraries) _barbara weinstock lectures on the morals of trade_ higher education and business standards. by willard eugene hotchkiss. creating capital: money-making as an aim in business. by frederick l. lipman. is civilization a disease? by stanton coit. social justice without socialism. by john bates clark. the conflict between private monopoly and good citizenship. by john graham brooks. commercialism and journalism. by hamilton holt. the business career in its public relations. by albert shaw. creating capital money-making as an aim in business by frederick l. lipman boston and new york houghton mifflin company _the riverside press cambridge_ 1918 copyright, 1918, by the regents of the university of california all rights reserved _published march 1918_ _the riverside press_ cambridge · massachusetts u · s · a barbara weinstock lectures on the morals of trade this series will contain essays by representative scholars and men of affairs dealing with the various phases of the moral law in its bearing on business life under the new economic order, first delivered at the university of california on the weinstock foundation. creating capital money-making as an aim in business the object of this paper is to discuss money-making; to examine its prevalence as an aim among people generally and the moral standards which obtain among those who consciously seek to make money. the desire to make money is common to most men. stronger or weaker, in some degree it is present in the mind of nearly every one. now, how far does this desire grow to be an aim or object in our lives, and to what extent is such an aim a worthy one? the typical money-maker as commonly pictured in our imagination is a narrow, grasping, selfish individual who has chosen to follow lower rather than higher ideals and who often is tempted, and always may be tempted, to employ illegitimate means for the attainment of his ends. the aims he has adopted are made to stand in opposition to the practice of certain virtues. thus we contrast profits and patriotism; enriching one's self and philanthropy; getting all the law allows and justice; taking advantage of the other fellow and honesty; becoming engrossed in acquisition and love of family. now, such contrasts obviously prove nothing more than that money-making is and would be a vicious aim if pursued regardless of these virtues, and it could well be replied that consideration of patriotism, philanthropy, love of family, etc., must in themselves impel one to earn and to save. "the love of money is the root of all evil" implies an exclusive devotion to acquisition that may well be criticized. but aside from this there is no doubt that amid the confused ideas held on the subject, aiming to make money is commonly regarded as in some sort of antagonism to the social virtues. that there are other sides to the picture is recognized, however, even by the loose thought of the day. the man who earns his living, for instance, it views as one who in so far is performing a fundamental duty. indeed, the world scorns him who cannot or will not support himself and his family. but this is only to say that one must work to-day to meet the expenditures of to-day. is this the limit? is it a virtue for him to work in order to spend, but a vice for him to work in order to save? what are the considerations to be observed by a man in deciding whether or not he should adopt money-making--that is, the acquisition of a surplus beyond his current needs--as one of his definite aims in life? one consideration relates to our country. the united states is now understood to be spending about $25,000,000 per day in carrying on the war. in the last analysis this amount must be paid out of the past savings and the savings from current earnings of the people of the united states. the wealth of the nation consists mainly of the sum of the wealth of its citizens. we are therefore told to seek increased earnings and to economize in our expenditures in order to enhance the national wealth. the duty here is perfectly clear, but even if we did not have war conditions to teach us as a patriotic responsibility the necessity of earning and saving a surplus, the obligation would still be there. we owe a similar debt to our state and to our city or district. and nearer still comes the duty to one's family and to one's own future, the duty of providing for the rainy day, for old age. and it will be observed that money-making in this sense is directed to the acquisition of _net_ income, it relates to that portion of one's earnings which is saved from current expenditure and becomes capital. then we must also consider the duty to society. as we look out upon the surrounding evidences of civilization--buildings and railroads and highly cultivated fields, the machinery of production and distribution, the shops full of useful commodities--and then cast our thought backward to a time not very many years ago when all this country was a natural wilderness, we may begin to realize the magnitude of the wealth, the capital, that has come into being since then, every particle of which is due to the earnings and savings of somebody, to the surplus not consumed by the workers of the past, their unexpended and unwasted net balances year by year. universities, churches, libraries, parks, are included in the wealth thus handed down to us. our lives to-day may be richer and broader through this inheritance created by the industry and abstinence of our forefathers. their business careers, now closed, we regard as the more successful in that they earned and saved a surplus, that they had a _net_ income to show as the result of their work. but these savings of the past were accumulated, after all, by comparatively few of the workers; not by the many, who lived from hand to mouth, happy-go-lucky, spending and enjoying in time of abundance, suffering in time of poverty and stress, making no provision even for their own future, still less recognizing any duty to their country or to posterity to produce economically and regulate their expenditure wisely so as to carry forward a surplus. as far as this majority is concerned we might yet be living among rocks and trees, without shelter, lacking sure supplies of food, with fig leaves to cover our nakedness. and to-day the same conditions obtain. how many persons are to be found among one's acquaintance who feel and act upon any responsibility for doing their "bit" in the creation of capital? very few. rather than exert himself to work with this in view, on the one hand, and to abstain from unnecessary consumption, on the other hand, the ordinary man will make to himself every excuse. he will contemn money-making as a sordid aim, readily exaggerating itself into a vice; he will dwell upon the obligations and other considerations of a higher life, this being defined as something generous and noble, a something compared with which money-making cannot be regarded as a worthy object but must be included in the class of unpleasant necessities, not to say indecencies, which ought to be relegated to the background of life; he will summon up pictures of extreme poverty, where any money received must be expended forthwith to meet urgent needs, as justifying that which in his case is the gratification of shiftless indulgence. above all, this typical individual will not accept and act upon the idea that his affairs, his small income and expenditure, have any bearing upon the prosperity and progress of his country. the most he will keep before him is that he should pay his bills, and perhaps in some few cases, will extend the notion to the future to include provision for the bills and possible emergencies then to be met by himself and his family. nor is this improvident attitude confined to the young, to the professional and the other non-business classes. in the business world we see it all around us; among those who "work for a living," among clerks and employees and among the so-called laboring classes it appears to be the normal attitude. people who work for salaries or wages seem characteristically to use up all their earnings in their current expenditure, to live up to their incomes without any serious attempt to save. if they pride themselves upon trying to keep out of debt, it is as much as they expect of themselves, and among them the man who attempts to go beyond this in his money affairs is certainly the exception. one of the effects of a world-wide war is an enormously increased demand for labor at high and advancing wages, a condition that we might suppose would be greatly to the advantage of the laborer. but that will depend upon his own attitude and policy. from england, and from american towns here and there, we hear stories of the wage-earner on whom increasing income has had the effect of lessening the effort to work; who stops during the week when the higher wage scale has paid him the amount he is accustomed to regard as a week's earnings. now, would it not seem natural to expect that any man encountering improved market conditions for his output, whether of commodity or service, would seek to turn the situation to advantage by increasing that output as largely as lay in his power? if, for instance, i can manufacture shoes to sell for $4.00 a pair and a change in market conditions is such that i can obtain $5.00 a pair, i would endeavor to produce more shoes in order to profit by the favorable market; and if thereafter the price should rise to $6.00 and $7.00 and $8.00 a pair, at each increment my efforts would be still further intensified. that, indeed, is the normal economic attitude. fluctuations in the price level due to changes in the demand for a commodity are expected to affect, and do affect, the market supply. at a higher price, production is stimulated and more units of the commodity are brought to the market, both from new sources and from old sources. under falling prices, on the other hand, the supply offered in the market would become automatically diminished. this is an elementary commonplace in economics, yet the laborer to whom we have just referred does not seem to recognize it. he may find that he can earn in, say four days, an amount equal to his former earnings in six days and, therefore, at the end of the fourth day he quits work for the week. now, obviously under such increasing wage scale, he might do one of three things: he could quit at the end of the fourth day, having received a week's income. he could continue working for the six days and use his surplus earnings for comforts, pleasures, and luxuries which previously he had been unable to afford. he might work for the six days and save as much as possible of his excess earnings. now, what is the wise choice for the laborer? leaving out of account special cases where he has a large family, or sickness at home, or is under some other disability which in his individual case would reduce his earning power or increase his minimum expenses, ought he not to work for the six days, putting aside all he could of the excess as savings for the future? it will be generally conceded that this is self-evident. if, viewing the narrow conditions under which the workman ordinarily lives, it should be claimed that during a period of unusual earnings self-gratification would be not only natural but measurably justifiable, the reply could be made that this is merely specious, involving assumption not in accord with the facts. excuses of this kind we often make for ourselves in the endeavor to justify our indulgence in present pleasure rather than perform the irksome duty of self-restraint. the laborer whose ideals are such that he quits at the end of the fourth day is not the type of man who is going to spend the two holidays in pursuing higher aims in life; he is going to pass them in inaction, quite likely at the grog-shop. the man who fails to take advantage of the security for the future offered him and his family through the opportunity of saving from extraordinary earnings is one who is adding to the abnormal demand for such things as phonographs, jewelry, spirits, and tobacco. and this helps to explain the tremendous market for luxuries during wartime. doubtless there are many workmen who follow a more rational course, who are reaping and storing the harvest for the comfort and security of themselves and their families during the winter of life. could any one think that this policy involved an aim that was sordid, tending to draw them down, and away from higher considerations of life? certainly a course of careful planning in one's affairs would be in so far a better course and on a higher plane than indulgence in idleness or shiftless expenditure of surplus for present luxuries, regardless of future need. this case of the workmen under conditions of abnormal wages seems exceptional; yet the choice so presented to him is not very different fundamentally from the choice normally presented to all the rest of us. the young man starting out in life may be as negligent of his opportunities as the workman who quits at the end of the fourth day. or if he devotes himself properly to his vocation he may consume his earnings in current self-gratification. if, however, he will both concentrate on his work and practice self-restraint with the purpose of creating a saved surplus, all will agree in considering him as so far headed on the road towards success. in the case of the beginner this seems clear enough, but, after all, the same considerations apply to everybody else, whether in business or profession, beginners or experienced, young or old; to all of us is the same choice presented daily, and at our peril we must make it wisely. the physician, for instance, although he cannot afford to pay more attention to money-making than to the welfare of his patients, to his studies, to his professional ideals, must not, on the other hand, leave out of account these business duties and considerations which belong to him as an economic member of society. he must produce and must consume with his family, reasonably, decently and thriftily. he must aim at a surplus to store away for the future. these aims are, as a matter of course, secondary to his professional ideals, but there need be no conflict of duty. the point is that there exists a department of his activity devoted, and to be devoted, by him to his business affairs. in any event, as a man, a husband, a father, a citizen, he cannot escape from the responsibility of these business affairs. they must be conducted in some way. shall it be well or ill? if he fails herein it may involve failure in any or all these relations--as a man, husband, father, citizen. and obviously these same considerations apply to all other men and women, whatever may be their professions, occupations, or major interests in life. why do so many allow themselves to be dragged along, living from hand-to-mouth, in fear of the knock of the bill collector at the door? why do we associate money questions with that which is unhappy, unfortunate, down-at-the-heel, with fear and misery? barring mere accidents, it is because we are careless, shiftless; because we do not face the problem manfully, practice reasonable self-restraint, consider the subject in its complexity and decide upon, and carry out, a constructive programme. even if one happens to possess wealth, he is not exempt. indeed, large wealth involves still greater necessity for care in the conduct of one's pecuniary affairs. the rich man is said to have perplexities and responsibilities which are unknown to those in moderate circumstances. in fine, everyone must face these money questions or be driven by them. those who live on fixed incomes, whether from salary or investment, may find it impossible to make any direct attempt to make money; for them the problem is to be confronted and mastered on its other side, the side of spending and saving, that the income may be apportioned as wisely as possible for the purposes of living. but during the last few years a new factor has entered into the money problems of the individual, often adding to his trials, often adding to his self-made excuses, and especially burdensome to the man on fixed income. we refer to the high cost of living. here it is, however, that the wage earner can do something in self-protection, for the level of prices may be in some measure affected by his policy in handling his earnings. a period of high wages is accompanied by and is in some sense an incident of a high level of prices. now we recognize high wages, considered in itself, as beneficial to the community, for it gives opportunity, at least, for comforts in life and a provision for the future that otherwise would be lacking. but if prices have advanced as much as wages, the apparent improvement to the laborer is merely in nominal wages, while that which alone can benefit him is higher real wages. now let us see what the workman could do to advance real wages as contrasted with nominal wages. what will be the effect on prices of the use of surplus earnings during a period of high wages? if the surplus earnings are expended, they will be used either in meeting the higher prices of customary commodities, or in meeting these advanced prices and also in purchasing additional commodities. the first case will occur only if, and when, the advance in price equals the advance in wages, for only in that event will the new wages just cover the new cost of customary commodities. then this expenditure of the entire income in customary commodities tends to keep up the price level and any benefit from higher wages disappears. in the second case, so far as the worker spends his surplus earnings in meeting advanced prices for customary commodities, he tends to maintain prices at the higher level, and so far as he buys additional commodities, he increases the demand for them and tends further to advance the price level. if, on the other hand, the worker will save from his surplus earnings, he will increase the community's capital, and this will tend, directly or indirectly, to cause the production of further commodities, so increasing the supply of commodities and therefore tending to reduce prices. in any case, the worker should save as much as possible, as this tends to reduce the price level and so to better his condition. or, putting it more simply, in time of high wages the worker ought to produce as much as possible and consume as little as possible, both influences tending to increase the stock of commodities for his ultimate gain and for that of the community. in fact, a high level of prices may be due measurably to some wasting of the world's capital--as in war, for instance--and then the only antidote is to restore the capital, a movement that would doubtless occur anyway in time but which could be greatly accelerated through a general adoption of habits of thrift and saving throughout a community. this then, though small, is something definite that we can contribute to the material advancement of mankind and, like the duty in this connection to our nation, to our families and ourselves, it consists in creating capital; that is, earning as much as we can and, in any event, even if our earnings are fixed, managing the income thriftily, and carrying forward as large a net result as possible. we turn now from the mass of mankind, on the whole so singularly neglectful of these responsibilities, to the few in number who constitute the creators of capital, to whom are due so much of the comforts, the conveniences, and the material advantages that go to make civilized life possible. now these few are found in every rank in life. they may be rich or poor, professional or business men, employer or employee, old or young, male or female. the characteristic is their habit of thrift, of definitely adopting money-making as an aim, of spending less than they earn. it is astonishing what a small percentage of mankind they are. the income tax returns in the united states for 1916 showed that out of a population of 104,000,000 people those with taxable incomes aggregated only 336,652, about one in three hundred. but whatever be the rank of the individual practicing this thrift he is headed in the right direction and he tends to reach the point of relative competence, of independence in his pecuniary affairs. preëminent in the class of the thrifty we think of the man of affairs; the business enterprise indeed is supposed to be the money-maker, _par excellence_. money-making is in fact considered as its _raison d'être_; it is as a money-maker that the business man is contemned by some and envied by many. now money-making and money values occupy a special place in business enterprise, due to the fact that on economic principles such money value becomes the best test--perhaps the only true test--of the workableness and success of business efforts. in the complicated activities of the world's work, where each man, each undertaking, each business unit, respectively, is striving primarily for its own advantage, how is it, among all this pulling and pushing, this competition, that the social income is distributed so nearly in accordance with the individual contribution? even if we admit that many persons fail to get a fair share, that there is gross inequality here and there, still after all, a student of mankind's activities in production, distribution, and consumption must marvel at the extent to which the rewards approximate the value of contribution. now this is made possible by money considered as a measure of relative values, by the standard or test of fitness embodied in the thought, will it pay, and to what extent will it pay? if i have in mind some new invention that will perhaps confer benefits on mankind, the best test of its practicability and utility will be, will it pay, will people buy it, pay money for it? if an improvement in process is proposed, the question is, will it pay? if the young man starts out in life with high ideals and a reasonably good opinion of his own abilities, an opinion fostered perhaps by fond parents and admiring friends, the question is, will these abilities fit in with the world's needs? will they supply a real demand, will they be serviceable? the best means of ascertaining this, although it may be only a rough estimate and although errors occasionally creep in is, will they pay? can he sell these services for real money? this criterion is practically omnipresent in the world of affairs. it is based on economic necessity, and although here and there it may be charged with cruelties, with serious blunders, it is, on the whole, a remarkably accurate standard. we see this more clearly where we attempt to substitute some other criterion for ranking the soldiers in the battle of life. we can note, for instance, the inferior type and character, generally speaking, of men elected to office by the suffrages of their fellow citizens, compared with men who reach positions of authority in business and other enterprises through the pressure of these economic principles. again, consider the nation that has attempted to improve on economic distribution of power by evolving a government which places the power in the hands of those best fitted to govern, a ruling class which aims directly at efficiency, a select class but necessarily self-selected, thus supplanting an economic régime by a military régime--successful truly in certain forms of economic efficiency through a more rigid and compact organization, but destructive of the initiative, the evolutionary growth, the fundamental development, the liberties of the people. contrast this with the freedom, happiness, and progress of a nation of shop-keepers. now this economic régime, with its individual instances of cruelty, like the cruelties of nature, does on the whole tend to develop men, to require their best efforts, to make them come forward and upward. thus, in this interplay of economic forces, wealth, or money, or profits stands out as a primary object of attainment, and becomes the incentive to the complex efforts which tend to benefit the individual, the community, and the nation. the business enterprise then directs its attention to profits, because, from mere economic necessity, profits are the criterion of the true success of the enterprise, that is, its serviceability to mankind. here we distinguish between the shortsighted man, who aims at immediate returns, and the farsighted man, whose eye is fixed on the future, who verily desires the profits, but desires them in the long run. but this is only a manifestation of human nature as we find it in every field. we always note a deficiency in the man whose life is lived for the present, for immediate enjoyment: in him we see the typical pleasure-seeker, peculiarly prone to temptation, to break the rules of life, to indulge himself at the expense of others or of his own future. he is characteristically the weakling, the wrongdoer. and we contrast him with the man of character, who stands superior to an immediate environment, who will not disregard the distant future, the absent neighbor, the invisible god. and so in the economic world it is the whole life period which is to be regarded when aims are chosen. profits as a goal for the long run do not antagonize moral principles. "honesty is the best policy" and "do unto others as you would have others do unto you" are maxims of good business; and that economic principles do not conflict with them is shown by the fact that they tend towards profits in the long run. this is not to assert that mankind in business is perfect. in every period of economic advance into a new environment, men try new experiments, as during the development of the great modern corporation in the period following the civil war in this country and, earlier than that, in the era of railroad building. they have tried new experiments in ethics as they have in physics, in chemistry, in economics. they have attempted to replace honesty by camouflage, the golden rule by self-aggrandizement. but these attempts are not successful and so they become discredited; they do not work because inherently they cannot last, and inability to endure is fatal to the purposes of any economic undertaking. we are emphasizing the fact that business is necessarily conducted for the long run, the very nature of success implying permanence. a man may take some criminal advantage of an opportunity: he may abscond with money entrusted to him; he may abuse the confidence reposed in him by an employer, by a customer; he may obtain an immediate profit by misrepresentation. but no one could expect such things to last; he could not possibly be building an enduring structure; such a course could not in the end promise him profits, or any other kind of success. a properly conducted business enterprise then is concerned with making profits in the long run; that is to say, in accordance with accepted notions of business conduct; in short, according to rules of the game, and this involves conformity with a standard, a standard of giving good value for what one gets. we must next distinguish between gross profits and net profits. the merchant or manufacturer naturally desires to do a large business, he points with pride to the increase in his sales this year over last year. the larger his turnover the smaller the proportionate amount of his overhead expenses that must be borne per unit of product, and other economies follow large-scale production or distribution. he may occasionally be desirous of increasing his output even when it entails a disproportionate increase in his expenditures, with the idea that he can later occupy himself with reducing these expenses and in the meanwhile the goodwill of his enterprise will have gained from the larger circle of customers. such is the case with a new enterprise that often starts out with the expectation of little or no profits during its early years, when it is gathering a clientèle and learning to distribute its product with economy. all these, however, are special cases. the normal situation is that the business enterprise is aiming at net profits, having an interest in large sales, heavy transactions and gross profits only so far as these are expected to lead finally to net profits, the real goal. now these net profits are, of course, the remainder of earnings left on hand after providing for all costs and expenses, for depreciation and every other factor causing loss, destruction, and deterioration during the business period under consideration. in short, the business capital as it was at the beginning of the period is first fully restored and made intact at the end of the period before a net profit emerges. this net profit therefore becomes in a true sense a creation of new capital and may indeed be retained in the business as an addition to capital funds. even when it is paid out in dividends, partly or wholly, it becomes new capital in the hands of the individual stockholders who then in their private capacity may of course spend it, but by proper investment may keep it permanently stored as capital. it is the creation of capital then, that is in reality the ultimate money-making aim of the business enterprise. we can now summarize the attitude and policy of the typical business man in his money-making aim as follows: in seeking profits he is actuated by economic necessity. his goal is profits in the long run, which involves conformity with economic and ethical standards, and net profits, which implies the creation of capital. the creation of capital we cannot fail to recognize as a worthy aim. it has given mankind much of all that mankind possesses and constitutes the foundation upon which civilization largely rests. the advancement in the arts and sciences has been in no small degree stimulated by the demands of business enterprise for new methods of creating capital and we may believe that should the time arrive when this motive should fail, when men should grow to be indifferent in their attitude towards profits, the ensuing stagnation would affect every department of human endeavor. of this we may be assured even when we remember that money-making, and what goes with it, is not the only aim in life. after cataloguing so much that is virtuous in the pursuit of money-making the suggestion is inevitable that there must be some other side to it, that the common views of the rapacity of the money-maker cannot be wholly unfounded. what then are the vices of the money-making aim? in examining this question we shall first brush aside some things to which we have already referred. the pathological cases of mere crime, of sharp practice, of taking advantage of others, while mounting up into distressingly high figures considered absolutely, are much less important relatively; that is, they are infrequent and scarce enough to avoid obscuring the rule which they violate, the rule that honesty is indispensable in economics as well as in ethics. what we must now investigate is any vicious tendencies that may be found in the money-making aim when followed normally and according to its own accepted principles. of such degenerative tendencies we seem to find two: first, the tendency to that excess which becomes a vice; and second, the tendency to a disregard of other considerations in life through too exclusive a devotion to acquisitiveness. but upon further thought we must see that these two tendencies flow together and become one, for too much devotion to money-getting and too little attention to the other purposes of life are, after all, expressions of the same thing. perhaps a man may err in excessive devotion to any object of life but we must admit that in the pursuit of gain the evil tendency to exaggerated absorption in the one aim is promoted through a coöperation with his natural selfishness. of all the fields of human endeavor, here is one that peculiarly fits in with self-seeking, with disregard for others, which may drag a man downward, making him small and mean, unhappy and uncharitable, while apparently attaining the goal at which he has aimed. not every man, while concentrating upon money-making, is consciously seeking his country's welfare, the amelioration of life for the many, the uplift of posterity, even if he rigidly adheres to the accepted rules of the game, to the code of business honor. this brings us back to the popular picture of the money-maker, grasping, sordid, narrow-minded. there are such people. i believe them to be rare, but whether there are many of them to-day or not, it is a type tending to disappear in the environment of modern business which offers its inducements and rewards to him who does, who becomes, who renders service, not to the sordid seeker for gain. barring an occasional exception, such an exclusive aim is not that of the man of large affairs, the business leader, the conspicuously successful man. it is not harriman, nor edison, nor weinstock, nor marshall field, nor peabody, nor is it the heads of our big corporations of to-day. such men are money-makers, creators of capital, builders of large enterprise, but their aim at profits while genuine is only incidental to their main purpose of doing, of becoming better able to achieve, of rendering service. when the beginner in business approaches an experienced friend for advice, he is told to work as hard and as faithfully as possible, to study his business, to seek to improve himself--in other words, to concentrate his whole strength on the giving of service, for his wages or salary will take care of itself. the experienced man knows well that this holds just as truly for all ranks in the business world and that the higher one ascends in responsibilities, the more he must give and do; indeed the leading positions in the business world are occupied by men who produce tremendously, whose value to themselves and others lies in what they accomplish, and this--not what they get--is the criterion of success among men of experience, among those in charge of enterprises, who are on the lookout for leaders of this type. here we have the remedy for the tendency backed by natural selfishness towards undue devotion to gain: such narrowness simply does not work, it is crowded out by competition with the superior efficiency of broader motives. and while, here and there, the type continues to exist, its development in new cases is discouraged by every instance illustrating the relative success--in all senses--attained by those who make it their chief aim to produce, to render service. just as the physician bestows his first thought upon his patient, these superior business men give first consideration to their profession, for so they regard it, and this tends to assure their success, just as it does that of the physician, and to become the standardized ideal for lesser men. it is indeed clearly self-evident that on many accounts the man in business must give attention primarily to the service he is trying to render. the clerk in the store must devote himself mainly to his customers, to his merchandise, to his other duties, not to his salary. and so with the department manager, and so with the general manager, whether of a store, a railroad company, or other activity; the immediate daily problem for all lies in the rendering of a service, the producing of a commodity, or the doing of the thing for which the business enterprise exists. this concentration upon output is furthermore required by competition which whips the producer into line and often makes it a matter of business life and death that one should make progress in method and quality. that his shoes wear is a matter of pride to the shoe manufacturer. "blank tires are good tires" is not to be regarded as merely a boastful advertisement. if it was it would not pay the advertising cost. money-making as an aim thus becomes subsidiary to the characteristic activities of the enterprise, it is in a sense a by-product. but the money-making aim is there, although perhaps in the background. it is furnishing the power under which the enterprise operates. more than that, it is the gauge indicating the prosperity or lack of prosperity of the enterprise, its progress, its fitting in with the needs of life. in short, the money-making aim spurs on the business enterprise, just as the weekly or monthly pay spurs on the humble worker; but in each case the main attention is given, and necessarily given, to the work to be performed. let us now consider some of the implications of this concentration on rendering service. the directed effort of each man to the production of the utility characteristic of his business, tends to result in his learning to conduct that specific activity with a high degree of skill, and with an increasingly valuable fund of experience. so highly specialized does he become that it will be quite impossible for any one hitherto a stranger in that sphere to conduct it as well. therefore in an age of coördinated effort the more a man has of accumulated knowledge and facility in handling a certain kind of affair and the better fitted, therefore, he is to continue and to progress along that line, the less relatively he is able to undertake the affairs of some other kind with which he is not familiar. we commonly feel free to criticize a railroad, a newspaper, a large business house, perhaps a university, with which we may have casual contact, but the fact is there are few competent critics outside of the ranks of the enterprise itself or of those carrying on activities that are directly similar. in a word, through this focusing of attention, a man will come to be exhaustively familiar with his own occupation, while possessing a merely superficial acquaintance with the theories, customs, and responsibilities of those of others. the wise man therefore argues the necessity of confining himself to the field in which he has become expert and will avoid taking chances in some outside direction wherein he is not familiar. one of the most common and disheartening experiences in the money-making and money-saving of the thrifty is that after having both worked hard and practiced self-restraint, the resultant savings are often put into some enterprise that turns out badly, and the whole effort is thus thrown away. generally this happens because he has violated the rule we have just stated; he has ventured his savings in unfamiliar fields, ignorantly he has rushed in where the better informed would have feared to tread. such so-called investments are in reality highly speculative. they involve risks which are unknown and altogether to be avoided. now no one speculates in his own legitimate business, for there he is acquainted with the hazards which, he has learned, require the best of knowledge and the greatest of prudence. it is the allurement of the unknown that tempts him to seek unearned profits through speculation in outside regions where, in the nature of the case, the chances must be against him. now speculation has its proper place in business: there are certain inherent hazards that must be undertaken, mainly to be found in the risk of the seasons in the production of crops, and the risk of the future in undeveloped enterprise. these risks must be carried by somebody, but clearly they constitute an activity for specialists who study conditions, becoming relatively expert in determining how and when to act. these specialists are drawn principally from two classes: first, the professional speculator, who knows his markets and makes a business of buying and selling future risks; such men perform a great service in handling our seasonal crops and in other directions, and are entitled to a reasonable profit. second, the man of wealth who may use part of his surplus in the risks of undeveloped enterprise; although it is probable that in the end his losses and expenses will outweigh his gains, he can afford to take chances of such experiments in the hope that success will follow in some of them; furthermore, he can regard the outlay as a contribution to the advancement of mankind. for the rest of us, however, outside of these two classes, it is our business to keep away from speculation whether in oil wells, flying machines, in new factories, or in real estate: in the long run, we cannot get something for nothing and money-making efforts that are ethically valid thus coincide with those that are selfishly desirable, namely, the efforts to obtain the payment, the profit, that arises from a valuable service performed or commodity produced. too often men who follow this rule in their regular occupation depart from it in the use of their saved surplus funds. they feel that their savings ought to make them money, as they say. now savings can be employed in one of three ways: they may be used as capital by the owner; or they may be put out in investments--that is, used or utilized as capital in the business of another; or, third, they may be wasted in gambling or speculation. as a matter of course, the employment as additional capital in one's own enterprise is generally the most desirable wherever applicable, but this is a use of limited scope, relating to but few of the people engaged in productive activity who earn and save a surplus. the main resource for such accumulations is in safe investments, in the bonds and securities of our own country and those of well established enterprises. not many among our embryo capitalists possess the experience or skill requisite for the safe and proper investment of their funds, they must rely upon the advice of others. but whom can they trust? the demand for investment advice has not failed to call forth a supply of advisers, and elaborate are the schemes designed to lure the unwary. but, generally speaking, the man who falls into the clutches of these birds of prey has himself to blame, for the reason that the temptations they offer are appeals to the illegitimate desire to get something for nothing or to the foolish notion that one can get-rich-quick in some way whispered about by a stranger, and out of sheer benevolence. the fact is that the wise man will dismiss all thought of making money out of his investments; he will seek only the moderate return which alone is consistent with safety; and with this policy, will turn a deaf ear to any so-called opportunity which promises big profits. we can summarize the matter by saying that concentration upon one's business and service implies that one should not attempt to make money elsewhere. this concentration on one's affairs therefore grows into a sort of practical system in which each member of the business community is looking after some function or activity to the exclusion of other things. and so the world's work is carried on to the best advantage, each function being filled by those particular men who have become relatively expert therein. from this system arises a business habit or method not always understood by the young and inexperienced, by the non-business person. we refer to the practice in trade of leaving to each individual, to each enterprise, to each organization, the responsibility for looking out for its own interests when having dealings with others. _caveat emptor_--let the buyer beware--expresses an extreme development of this, and in its common signification, that each side is to be permitted and expected to take any advantage of the other side that it may be able to secure, it describes a state of warfare rather than of business. in buying and selling, in aiming to obtain the most favorable terms for each line of his activity, in meeting conditions of competition, in all these relations, the business man is endeavoring to better himself and may doubtless be tempted here and there to forget the interests of the other party to the transaction. but to yield to such temptation would merely be to abuse a principle which on the whole is sanctioned by the requirements of economic efficiency. this principle is that the nearest approximation to effective justice in business transactions is reached when on each side the parties devote themselves to their respective interests and points of view. if _a_ has a house for sale and _b_ is a prospective buyer, the essence of the possible transaction between the two is that _a_'s idea of the value of the property is different from _b_'s idea of that value; or at any rate that _a_ sees less value in it to him than does _b_ to _b_. this is of course typical of all business transactions--the seller desires the money above the commodity, the buyer prefers the commodity to the money. the seller and the buyer each dwells naturally upon his own idea of value. this is altogether desirable, not to say indispensable, and is characteristic of every relation of business, wherever two men buy and sell, employ one another, or have other dealings together. the situation is somewhat the same as in a law suit where the duty of the attorney for the plaintiff is to make every point that fairly can be made for the plaintiff, while the attorney on the other side must correspondingly make every point that can properly be made for the defendant. each side is supposed to look after the interest of that side. similarly, in a business organization, say a railroad, when some new project is under consideration it will be submitted to the engineer, to the chemist, to the attorney, to the practical transportation man, and in each of these departments it is expected that the wisdom born of experience in the particular function will be brought to bear. the engineer speaks with authority on engineering questions, the lawyer on legal questions, the transportation man on the practical working out of the project; and, normally, the criticisms and contribution of each are confined to his own function. in short, the régime of economic self-interest results in leaving to each the responsibility which he is most competent to assume, that in which he is most expert, which thereby receives the best attention that generally speaking it could have. nor are correctives lacking for the abuses which may enter in through an overdevelopment of self-interest. _caveat emptor_ becomes discredited as an unmodified basis of human action. the golden rule is increasingly seen to constitute a foundation demanded by economics as well as by ethics. the trend to-day is away from indifference to the interests of those with whom we deal. the successful merchant will not attempt to make a profit through sales which he knows would not benefit the purchaser, for that would not measure up to the test, will it pay? the value of a business depends largely on its goodwill and too much money and effort are spent in advertising and other means of building up a clientèle to make men conceive it to be to their interest to deal sharply with their customers. in the efforts of scientists to seek out and establish new methods, new principles, the success of an experiment is to be determined, i suppose, by the test, will it work? does it yield effective results? similarly, in economics, the science of mankind in its production, distribution and consumption of material things, the test of utility and efficiency is, will it pay? that being the standard of workableness in the application of that science. we have attempted, therefore, in this analysis of money-making to apply this test, because the practice or habit or influence that pays is that which is in accord so far with the principles underlying this branch of social science. we have seen, according to this standard, that it is the duty of all to adopt money-making as a conscious aim; that the money is to be economically used, the final object being net profit, that balance or remainder which is carried forward as created capital. inability to increase a fixed income does not absolve one from the duty of doing one's part in the creation of capital through thrift and saving. the business enterprise, moreover, is required by economic necessity to aim at money-making--meaning, however, profits in the long run rather than immediate or temporary gains. such permanent returns can only be sought through adherence to ethical principles and although this aim at profits becomes the power plant which drives the business machine, the latter gives its energies and attention more directly to the rendering of service. concentration upon service tends to make a man relatively efficient therein, but argues a relative unfamiliarity with the field of others, from which we infer the advisability of confining one's activity to the thing he has learned to do best. as an example of this, he should avoid placing his surplus capital or savings in outside enterprises where they will partake of risks that are unknown to him, nor should he attempt to employ his savings at all with the purpose of making money, unless, indeed, he can use them as capital in his own business. the focusing of attention on one's own function also implies and explains the custom of placing upon participants in a business transaction the responsibility each for his own side, a custom which is economically justified but which must be kept within proper limits, as is fully recognized by the business men who are successful and who therefore become models or examples for the guidance of other men, influencing the latter towards high ideals. we have found, on the other hand, that apart from men in charge of business enterprise, the burden of providing thus for man's welfare and development is assumed by very few, the vast majority, whether in professional or business employment, treating it with neglect and contempt. they think, perhaps, that they are aiming at higher things, or that their efforts would not sufficiently count, or they do not give the matter any sturdy thought; while the underlying motive, often unconscious, is simply an unwillingness to practice self-restraint. it is self-indulgence, we must conclude, that is to be overcome if we are to meet this responsibility in a manly way, visualizing it with sufficient clearness to see that thrift, the creation of capital for one's self and for the race, comes into no necessary conflict with any other proper aim in life, but on the contrary constitutes a fundamental duty to society, to the state, to one's family, to his own future, to his self-respect. the pilot and the bushman by sylvia jacobs illustrated by david stone [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from galaxy science fiction august 1951. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] technological upheavals caused by inventions of our own are bad enough, but this was the ultimate depression, caused by the ultimate alien invention--which no earthman ever saw! the ambassador from outer space sprang to his feet, taking jerry's extended hand in a firm, warm grasp. jerry had been prepared for almost anything--a scholarly brontosaurus, perhaps, or an educated squid or giant caterpillar with telepathic powers. but the ambassador didn't even have antennae, gills, or green hair. he was a completely normal and even handsome human being. "scotch? cigar?" the ambassador offered cordially. "how can i help you, mr. jergins?" studying him, jerry decided there _was_ something peculiar about this extraterrestrial, after all. he was too perfect. his shave was too close, his skin so unblemished as to suggest wax-works. every strand of his distinguished iron-gray hair was impeccably placed. the negligent and just-right drape of his clothes covered a body shaped like a sixth century b.c. piece of greek sculpture. no mere human could have looked so unruffled, so utterly groomed, at three o'clock in the afternoon, in a busy office. a race, jerry wondered, capable of taking any shape at will, in mimicry of the indigenous race of any planet? "you _can_ help me, but i'm not sure you _will_," jerry said. "the rumor is that you won't do anything to ease this buyers' strike you started on earth." the ambassador smiled. "you're a man who's not used to taking no for an answer, i gather. what's your proposition?" "i'd like to contact some of the firms on the federated planets, show them how i could promote their merchandise on earth. earth is already clamoring for their goods. to establish a medium of exchange, we'd have to run simultaneous campaigns, promoting earth merchandise on other planets." "that would be difficult, even for a man of your promotional ability," the ambassador said winningly. "you see, earth is the only planet we've yet discovered where advertising--or promotion, to use the broader term--exists as a social and economic force." "how in hell can anybody do business without it?" jerry demanded. "we don't do business in the sense you mean. don't mistake me," the ambassador added hastily, "we don't have precisely a communal economy, either. our very well defined sense of ethics in regard to material goods is something i find impossible to describe in any earth language. it's quite simple, so simple that you have to grow up with it to understand it. our whole attitude toward material goods is conditioned by the matter repositor." "_that_ gadget!" jerry said bitterly. "it was when you first mentioned it before the u.n. assembly that all this trouble on earth started. everybody and his brother hopes that tomorrow he can buy a matter repositor, and never have to buy anything again. i came here mostly to ask you whether it's really true, that if you have one of those dinguses, you can bring anything you want into your living room." "you _can_. in practice, of course, repositing just anything that took your fancy would produce economic anarchy." "let's put it this way," jerry persisted. "home appliances were my biggest accounts. now, when we try to sell a refrigerator, the prospect says she's saving her cash till matter repositors get on the earth market. she plans to reposit a refrigerator--not from her neighbor's kitchen, because that would be stealing--but from the factory. if the factory goes bust, people figure the government will have to subsidize building appliances. now, could she really reposit a refrigerator?" "she could. but she wouldn't want to." "why not?" jerry asked, puzzled. "if she conceived an illogical and useless desire for food refrigeration, she would simply reposit a block of cold air from, say, the north pole." "oh, fine!" jerry said sarcastically. "that would cause more unemployment in the refrigerator industry than repositing them without paying for them! but what do you mean about food refrigeration being illogical and useless?" "well, in a storage warehouse, there might be some reason for food preservation. but you don't need cold or canning. why not just reposit the bacteria that cause the food to deteriorate? there's no need to store food in a home equipped with a matter repositor. you simply reposit one meal at a time. fruits and vegetables direct from tree or field. meat from a slaughterhouse, since it isn't humane to remove a pound of steak from a live steer. but even this is needless." "why?" jerry baffledly wanted to know. "to free the maximum amount of the effort of thinking beings for non-material activities, each consumer can reposit the chemical elements of the food, synthesize his meal on the table. he can even reposit these elements directly into his stomach, or, to by-pass the effort of digestion, into his bloodstream as glycogen and amino acids." "so refrigerators would be as dead an item as kerosene lamps in a city wired for electricity," jerry agreed unhappily. "suppose mrs. housewife, not needing a refrigerator, reposits a washing machine. the point i'm driving at--is there any practical way to compensate the factory, give it an incentive to produce more washing machines, without dragging in government control?" "why should the factory produce more washing machines? who would want one? the housewife would simply reposit the dirt from her clothes into her flowerbed, without using water and soap. or, more likely, reposit new clothes with different colors, fabrics, and styles. the matter repositor would eliminate textile mills and clothing factories. earth's oceans have vast enough quantities of seaweed to eliminate the growing of cotton, wool, or flax. or, again, you could reposit the chemical elements, either from the soil or from seawater." jerry pondered the extensive implications of these revelations. finally he said, "what it boils down to is this. all earth's bustling material activity, all the logging and construction, the mining and manufacturing, the planting and fishing, the printing and postal service, the great transportation and shipping effort, the cleaning and painting, the sewage disposal, even the bathing and self-adornment, consist, when you analyze them, of one process only--_putting something from where you don't want it to where you do_. there's not one single, solitary earth invention or service left to advertise!" "nothing," the ambassador agreed. "which is exactly why advertising has not developed on the federated planets. you're fortunate that earth doesn't have matter repositors. you'd be out of a job if it did." "oh, no!" jerry said. "i could still advertise the gadget to end all gadgets--the matter repositor itself. i know other people have asked you this before, but could an earth company get a franchise to import those machines here, or the license rights to manufacture them?" "no," the ambassador said, briefly and definitely. "mr. ambassador," jerry protested, "you've gone to a lot of trouble to explain things you must already be tired of explaining to earthmen, just so i personally could be sure they weren't merely rumors or misinterpretations. now that i get down to the real point, you suddenly become blunt and unqualified. why?" "because there's a very serious question of ethics involved, wherever a more advanced civilization comes in contact with a relatively primitive one. for instance, when the white men came to america, the aborigines were introduced to gunpowder and firewater." "so you people are keeping matter repositors away from us, like a mama keeping candy away from a baby who's hollering for it, because it's not good for him! you'd pass up a chance to name your own price--" "the very way you phrase that remark indicates the danger. you regard personal gain as the strongest of motives, which means that matter repositors would be used for that, even by such unusually intelligent members of your race as yourself." "don't softsoap me," jerry said angrily. "not after you just got through saying that we earthlings are nothing but naked savages, compared to the high and mighty super-beings on other planets!" "i apologize for my phraseology," the ambassador said. "with my limited command of your language--" "your limited command, nuts! i suppose you supermen enjoy seeing us naked savages squirm. why talk sanctimoniously about the damage you might do, when you know damn well the damage has already been done? just the news that something as advanced as the matter repositor exists has sent unemployment to a new high, and the stock market to a new low. and you theorize about ethics, while denying us the only cure!" jerry found himself fighting a nearly irresistible impulse to smash his fist into that too-perfect profile--which, he realized glumly, would only prove the ambassador's point about savages. "here, here," the ambassador said benevolently, "let's have another drink. then we'll see whether i can make it clear to you why the actual importation of matter repositors would cause much more trouble on earth than the announcement of their existence, bad as the effect of that has been. to begin with, i admit i made a very serious error in mentioning the device at all before the u.n. assembly. i intended merely to explain how i came here without a spaceship. after that, i was flooded with questions; i could no more avoid answering them than i could courteously avoid answering the questions you've been asking today." "you mean you super-beings actually admit you're human enough to make mistakes?" jerry asked, somewhat mollified. "of course we make mistakes. we try not to make the same one twice. you see, we once made the mistake of importing matter repositors to a planet whose natural resources and social concepts weren't adequate for the device. that was a long time ago, and they haven't recovered from the effects yet. suppose a consignment of ten thousand matter repositors arrived on earth tomorrow. under your economic system, who would get them?" "the ten thousand people or corporations who had the most money to pay for them, i guess. unless government agencies grabbed 'em." "can you guarantee that of the ten thousand people on earth who have the most money, not one is unscrupulous?" "gosh, no!" jerry said. "i don't think there's any doubt that to stay in business very long, a man or a company has to have a certain amount of business ethics. nobody can gyp the public indefinitely. but a bank robber might have a lot of cash, or a confidence man, or a cluck with a big inheritance." "so, to be generous, let's assume that 9,999 of your wealthiest persons are so ethical that they would never make any profit at the expense of the general welfare. that leaves us one crook. what would he reposit first?" "hmm.... maybe the gold at fort knox." "and what effect would that have on earth's business?" "i'm not quite sure," jerry admitted. "i'm no shark on monetary theory, just the kind of large-scale salesman who makes mass production possible. but it certainly wouldn't do the world situation any good." "suppose, next, our crook holds the president of the united states for ransom. since he doesn't need money, the ransom price might be laws which would grant him impunity for his crimes. if not, he could have an accomplice reposit him out of jail, or even out of the electric chair, before the switch was pulled." "that's enough! i get the idea!" jerry exclaimed. "wait--there's a more important point. suppose a government you consider the wrong government got hold of some of the machines. first, of course, they'd reposit the world stockpile of atomic bombs. then they'd reposit disease bacteria into the bloodstreams of u.n. troops, officials, and civilian workers, and reposit all the ammunition out of u.n. guns. so long as there is one spark of nationalism left on earth, so long as any country has an economic and political system they consider better than some other system, matter repositors would mean planetary self-destruction. now do you see why i was blunt and unqualified?" "i do," jerry said solemnly, "and i was a fool to fly off the handle when you called us savages. we are savages, i can see that now. and your people must be pretty damned godlike to be trusted with such an invention!" "not at all. to a micronesian bushman, the pilot who can be trusted with the power and speed of a b-29 seems a veritable god. but the pilot is only an ordinary joe, very likely no more intelligent than the bushman--he just had a different background. fighting each other for necessities and luxuries, the process that you people call business competition, has so long been needless to our people that they would no more think of competitive gain than you would do an indian harvest dance before you signed a contract. they aren't necessarily more intelligent or more virtuous than your people--they just have a different background." "you seem to have devoted a lot of study to the larceny in the earthman's soul," jerry put in. "what if we stole the secret from you, whether you think it wise to give it to us or not? suppose somebody swiped the blueprints, or copied a repositor you brought with you for your own use?" the ambassador smiled. "you might _try_ to steal it. that's why i didn't bring a repositor with me, to save you people the trouble of a futile try." "why futile?" "well, the matter repositor is a simple device. any child on the federated planets who had an education, say, equivalent to your technical high school education, could build a working model, even without another repositor to assist him. but earth's best technicians couldn't build one, even with either blueprints or a model to copy." "they couldn't, eh?" jerry challenged, bristling again. "they managed to split atoms, transmute elements, do a few little tricks like that." "i see i've been tactless again," the ambassador said regretfully. "just now, you readily conceded that earthmen are savages morally, but when i seem to cast aspersions on your mechanical ability, it offends your racial vanity. all right, let's go back to the b-29 pilot and the intelligent bushman. the internal combustion engine that powers the b-29 is a simple device in fundamental principle, isn't it?" "sure," jerry said. "any high school boy who has taken a course in auto mechanics, who has the requisite machine tools, metals, casting equipment, and fuel, could build a working model of an internal combustion engine, couldn't he, even without ready-made parts?" "if he wasn't all thumbs, he could." "all right. now suppose the b-29 is grounded in the jungle. the bushman is examining the engine. he's just as intelligent as the pilot, remember, but his environment hasn't produced an oil well, let alone a refinery. he has never seen a lathe or a micrometer. he has no mine, no smelter. he can't copy that b-29 engine by whittling wood or chipping stone, even if he's a born mechanical genius, and he can't run it on seawater. so he says the plane flies by magic. put him in the pilot seat, and you'll admit it's practically inevitable that he'll crash." "why do you take so much trouble to explain things?" jerry asked wryly. "i should have my head examined for not understanding it in the first place." "let's say i'm feebly trying to make amends for what my unfortunate slip of the tongue has done to your business." "you've brought me around to your way of thinking, mr. ambassador," jerry said, recovering enough to carry the ball. "but it would be impossible to sell the public on the idea that they shouldn't have repositors because they're too hot to handle. statistics on auto accidents never convinced anybody that he didn't want a nice, shiny, new car. nobody thinks he personally will get killed in traffic--he's too smart. you can't convince a youngster he doesn't want candy before dinner; he thinks he knows better than his parents. but you can hide the candy, while putting an appetizing meal on the table." "yes, except that i regrettably didn't hide the fact that the matter repositor exists." "you sure didn't. and it puts you on a spot, doesn't it? i don't imagine it will be much fun for you to report to your government that one ill-considered remark, made shortly after your arrival, upset earth's economy." for the first time, the ambassador's suavity was ruffled. sweat stood out on his noble forehead. "i've been hoping the bad-effects would die down before i have to report," he confessed. "they won't die down by themselves. you know damned well they're getting worse and worse, as word-of-mouth advertising about the matter repositor spreads." jerry leaned closer. "but you and i can get rid of those bad effects." "how?" "well, i'll tell you. when i came to see you, i was pretty sure you'd turn me down cold on importing matter repositors. but i had an ace up my sleeve. i hoped you would admit that the reason you've been stalling on selling earth any repositors is that you don't really have a practical one. i thought maybe rumors of the repositor's powers had been vastly exaggerated. if you admitted that, i intended to publicize it to the limit. a campaign to convince earthmen that you'd been kidding them would work, because it plays on john q. public's conviction that he's pretty smart, too smart to believe all this gab about a gadget he's never seen. with your denial to back me up, i could put it across. it would be a lifesaving shot in the arm for earth business." "you mean," the ambassador said reflectively, "that if i call myself a liar--if i actually become a liar in so doing--i can patch up the damage i've done? that puts me in a difficult ethical position." "not as difficult as the one you're in now. if it will make it easier for you, i can word your denial in a face-saving way, and have it ready for your signature tuesday. you have a remarkable command of colloquial english, but even a diplomat using his native tongue can't juggle the connotations and inferences like an advertising man." "it's very kind of you to offer your professional skill in my behalf. i think i should pay you a fee for the copy." "skip it," jerry said generously, fingering the nickel and two pennies in his pocket. "a small token of my appreciation for the patience you've shown. what time tuesday?" "say two o'clock?" "fine. but before i spend my time on this, you're not going to make the same deal with somebody else, are you?" "deal? did i make a deal?" "what i mean, nobody else has approached you with the idea that earth business would get back to normal if you would deny that a practical matter repositor exists? you'd say i have exclusive rights to the idea?" "nobody has," the ambassador said, "and i agree to give you exclusive rights." "good! with your signed denial, i can raise the loot. i think the n.a.m. will go for it. the campaign will have to be well-financed, you see; the amount of space the news columns will give to your denial may be as much as they gave to your original statement, but that alone won't do the job. it's much harder to kill a notion that has penetrated the public mind than it is to implant one." * * * * * the ambassador indulged in a chuckle. "i'm beginning to see daylight. my signed denial in your hands becomes a salable piece of merchandise, worth far more than i would pay you for a few lines of copy. well, more power to you! would it be out of place for me to contribute some of the funds for publicizing this denial?" "how much?" jerry asked practically. "well," the ambassador explained, "i've had nothing reposited that i could avoid. but since your planet has a monetary exchange, i had to pay for my office help, lodging, and so on. synthesizing coinage would have been counterfeiting, which is against your laws, so i merely had a moderate amount of uncoined gold reposited, and i sell it on the regular earth market as i need funds. gold has no particular value on the federated planets, of course. i could get whatever you need, so long as it isn't enough to disrupt the economy any more than--well, than i have already. let's limit ourselves to an amount that could be accounted for by an unusually good year in mining." "sold!" jerry said happily. "i think i can struggle along on a million a month retainer. plus the usual fifteen per cent on advertising space and printing, of course; i'll have an estimate on that for you tuesday. since you can finance the whole campaign yourself, we'll leave the n.a.m. out of it. that way i can spare you the humiliation of signing an outright denial. all you have to do from now on is to keep mum. don't even admit that you're the angel financing this campaign; that would make it look phony. i'll assign you three personal public-relations men, on twenty-four-hour shift. all your public remarks are to screen through them." "but how can i conceal my identity when i'm sponsoring the campaign?" the ambassador objected. "that's easy. the ostensible sponsor will be a dummy organization called--um--the consumers fact finding board. nobody but me needs to know who signs the checks." "how long will this campaign continue?" "i figure it'll take about six months to sell the public this particular bill of goods. once we get business revived, the best thing is never to mention the words matter repositor again, not even to deny its existence. the ultimate goal is to make people forget they ever heard of such a gadget. the more convincing i make it, the quicker i'll work myself out of a job." "i should think you'd make it last as long as possible; that's why i asked you for a time-limit. do you _want_ to work yourself out of a job?" "you bet i do! then i can start selling a bigger item, launch a longer-term promotion, one that will last till earth gets civilized, till i don't have anything more to sell. from what you say, that will take a lot longer than i'll live." "it may be none of my business, but what is this big item you propose to sell next?" the ambassador asked, curiously. "earth," jerry said. the ambassador looked confused. "i'm afraid i don't understand." "didn't you just get through telling me, in effect, that any of your people who came to earth could have all the money they wanted to spend? well, i'm going to run advertising copy on the federated planets, and get them to come here and spend it." "but i also told you that advertising is unknown on the federated planets!" the ambassador protested. "all the better. your people, then, will have less sales resistance than an audience of earth kindergarten kids, who have had spot commercials dinned into their ears since birth. the only problem is space and time." "the matter repositor has effectively solved the problems of space and time." "no, i mean space and time as an advertising man uses those terms. newspaper and magazine space, radio and tv time. do you have any newspapers out there?" "we have very little you would classify as news. no wars, no stock market, no crime, no epidemics, no political mudslinging, few accidents. but we do have information bulletins, of course." "fine! besides that million a month retainer, i want an exclusive contract to run advertising copy in the information bulletins on the federated planets." "this is completely unprecedented!" "you want to get out of this mess you're in, don't you? i'm the boy who can get you out, and that's my price." "you drive a hard bargain, mr. jergins. very well, i'll arrange it. but i'm getting you the contract only because i'm certain your excursion idea won't work. oh, i know earth men want to visit the federated planets; i've had plenty of requests. i've had to explain repeatedly that we must hold to our announced policy of no ambassador from earth, and no exchange students, until earth has completed a few more steps in the development of her civilization. but surely none of our people will come to earth, aside from a few students of comparative civilizations. our general public can view samples of your national costumes, automobiles, and so on, in the museums. i can't see why they should want to come here, while earth is still in a primitive and dangerous stage." "you can't, eh? well, you might be surprised, mr. ambassador, you might be surprised. for the time being, just picture yourself as the pilot of that b-29, grounded on a primitive little island in space. you've met a poor, ignorant bushman. he couldn't reproduce your plane to save his neck. he can't manufacture a single gadget you'd want to buy. nevertheless, you're about to see a demonstration of a few tricks of survival that your super-civilized race has forgotten--or, rather, never knew. i think you'll cook up into a right tasty dish." * * * * * four days later, the better business bureau of oskaloosa, iowa, nabbed a questionable character who had accepted deposits from local businessmen, in return for elaborately printed but worthless contracts to deliver matter repositors. the warning flash crossed similar warnings from new orleans, reno, milwaukee, and the borough of queens, with a particularly hysterical note injected by los angeles, where the populace had proved most susceptible to the bogus agents. the news of a national ring of confidence artists, capitalizing on people's desire for matter repositors, ran in all papers, of course. the editors as yet hadn't the faintest idea that they were printing carefully engineered publicity. before he even got his space contracts lined up, jerry had accomplished quite a feat. he had fixed things so that, if the ambassador from outer space himself had changed his mind, and imported a cargo of genuine matter repositors, he would have had some trouble convincing people he wasn't a crook. in a record two weeks, the campaign proper was ready to roll. it was long on white space, and the copy was so short that, after glancing at it a few times, you found that you had involuntarily committed it to memory. in the center of blank pages in all major metropolitan newspapers appeared a small want-ad, stating that the consumers fact finding board had deposited with a new york bank the sum of one million dollars in cash, _after taxes_, which would be paid to any person, terrestrial or extraterrestrial, who could produce a matter repositor capable of repositing an object weighing two pounds a distance of ten feet. the offer was repeated daily for a month, and from the second day forward, there was a large, red overprint, looking like a crayon scrawl, which said, "no takers to date who can deliver the goods!" the idea was pounded into the public mind by carcards, billboards, direct mail, and annoying telephone solicitors, who got subscribers out of bathtub and bed to ask them whether they had a matter repositor around the house they wanted to sell for a million dollars. skywriters by day and illuminated blimps by night made sure the literate could not escape the message. radio and tv singing and cartoon commercials took care of the illiterate. no conclusions were drawn in the copy. each "prospect" was left with the comfortable feeling that his own superior intellect and powers of deduction had supplied the answer. no matter repositor turned up for sale, so everyone was sure there was no such thing. the whole campaign, like other advertising campaigns before it, depended on what people failed to consider. they neglected to realize that a million dollars would be a joke to the owner of a matter repositor, who could reposit all the wealth on earth, including the million in the new york bank, but would have no use for money, since he could reposit usable goods. the magic phrase "a million dollars" was a worldwide symbol for all desirable material things. it would have been almost heresy to reflect that even that much cash had no actual value. * * * * * as jerry promised, the ambassador didn't have to issue an official denial. his chief public relations man quite truthfully admitted to reporters that the ambassador had no matter repositor in his possession, a dispatch carried by all wire services, and snickered at by clever columnists. in basements and garages, persons of good, bad, and indifferent mechanical ability strove to earn the million. the u.s. patent office was inundated with models and drawings of unworkable devices. one of the duke university subjects tried to patent his ability to influence the fall of dice mentally. during the next session of the congress, jerry's crack lobbyists raised a great howl about the shameful congestion in the patent office, not mentioning, of course, that they were employed by the man who had created the congestion, by offering a million dollars for a device he knew no earthman could build. another dummy organization, dubbed the inventors protective league, sponsored a bill to amend the act relating to perpetual motion machines. it passed, with an emergency clause, and, thereafter, devices purporting to reposit matter were not entitled to letters of patent. this just about clinched the deal, for the vast majority of people, who had never watched laws enacted, assumed that if something was in the law, there must be a good reason for it, unless, of course, it was anything like prohibition. a name band revived "the thing," leaving the drumbeats out of the vocal refrain, and substituting, "get out of here with that matter repositor, before i call a cop!" within six months, radio and tv comedians had worn out the joke. even goofy, my friend irma, mrs. ace, and gracie allen were too sophisticated to believe in matter repositors. gags about them dropped to the same low level as those about brooklyn and joke-stealing comics. although his appearance in public was liable to start boos and catcalls, the ambassador from outer space was duly grateful. he was spared the painful necessity of reporting his disastrous slip of the tongue to his government, for earth economy was again on the upward spiral. everybody was spending the money he'd been saving up for a matter repositor. the ambassador cheerfully paid the million-a-month retainer and the whopping space bills, but jerry's greatest gain in the transaction was his agreement allowing him to run advertising in the federated planets information bulletins. the space didn't cost him a nickel. yet he knew how to sell his exclusive rights to it for more money than any one earth company had in its promotional budget. by the time the campaign debunking the matter repositor was ready to die a natural death, jerry had started an organization of earth businessmen, spearheaded by the restaurant and hotel associations, and the transportation interests, to promote earth as a primitive planet. the primitive aspects of earth, jerry predicted, would exert a powerful appeal on the citizens of the federated planets, who must be pretty bored with civilization, and badly in need of a vacation from too much perfection. this organization was not composed of dummies, by any means, but the businessmen joined up with a vague idea that their hostelries were to be way-stations, that they were going to promote sightseeing tours to places they themselves would call primitive, that the human exhibits would consist of blanketed navajos, chinese coolies, hula girls, voodoo dancers, and eskimos. jerry filled the biggest convention hall in chicago, and, at the climax of the proceedings, dramatically drew back a velvet curtain, unveiling a huge painting of the symbol of the campaign--a masked bandit, wearing a slouch hat, clutching in a greedy hand a fat bag marked with a dollar sign. below was blazoned the tasteful slogan, "let the people of earth gyp you!" a chorus of outrage echoed in the rafters. it hadn't occurred to the members that primitive exhibit a would be themselves; to wit, the genus earth businessman; sub-species, go-getter. jerry emerged from the resulting argument somewhat battered, but with what any experienced advertising man would recognize as a victory. his copy was to run in five per cent of the space, keyed. now all he had to do was prove in dollars and cents that he knew more about mass sales psychology than his clients, which was, of course, a cinch. in spite of translation into a more civilized language, jerry's five per cent of the space out-pulled the tamer ninety-five per cent by better than ten to one. thereafter, his clients swallowed their pride, voted him a free hand, and contented themselves with raking in the shekels from a steady stream of handsome and rich extraterrestrial tourists. * * * * * after jerry's tourist promotion had been running two years, the u.s. post office broke down and printed an issue of three-cent stamps commemorating the influx, showing the goddess terra with welcoming arms open to the starred heavens. jerry jergins, the second advertising man in history to achieve the distinction of having uncle sam plug his product on a stamp, thereby entered the most select circles of his chosen profession. jerry bought enough of the stamps to paper the walls of his swank and spacious penthouse offices, for the benefit of the swarm of tourists who invaded the place daily during afternoon open-house hours. they all wanted to see an advertising agency; to them, this phenomenon was the essence of that primitive planet, earth. jerry had recorded a lecture on primitive earth customs which issued from concealed loudspeakers, and filled display cases with exhibits of primitive earth culture, emphasizing the aspects he felt these extraterrestrials would find most exotic. considering the fact that jerry had managed to learn little about the federated planets that was not utterly essential to the mechanics of his advertising campaign there, he had done a pretty good job of "getting on the customer's side of the counter." every tourist jerry talked to had been conditioned, by some unrevealed but apparently foolproof process, not to repeat the ambassador's error of mentioning matter repositors, or other aspects of life on the federated planets that might cause repercussions on earth. even tourist children couldn't be bribed with lollypops. tourists talked a great deal, in fluent idiomatic earth english, yet somehow said very little. but jerry knew at least one thing--he was stirring emotions that lay so deep under layers and layers of civilization that these shining, perfect people hadn't known they were capable of feeling them, until they visited earth. he was getting under their smooth skins, just as surely as the monotone of a haitian drum-beat gets under the skin of a new yorker. one of the display cases contained the working tools of gangsterism--sawed-off shotguns, blackjacks, a model of a bullet-proof automobile, a news photo of the st. valentine's day massacre, a clipping about police payoffs from houses of gambling and prostitution, another about blindness resulting from wood alcohol. the shot-glasses of authentic antique bootleg gin that stood on top the cases were often smelled but never sampled. the second case showed a chart of fluctuations of the stock market, with an actual operating ticker in the middle. sections of the tape were much in demand as souvenirs. but the photo of a smashed body of a once-wealthy man who jumped from his office window after losing his fortune caused the most comment. the tourists found it difficult to understand how this man could consider his life less important than his bank balance. the largest case contained models of war weapons, a lurid painting of pearl harbor under aerial attack, another of the hiroshima mushroom that ushered in the atomic age. there were gas masks, artificial limbs, a photo of a blinded veteran led by a seeing-eye dog. the tourists gaped at that exhibit with all the relish of coney island crowds visiting wax replicas of famous murder scenes. and along the entire 40-foot wall of the reception room, a photo-mural of a ragged, depression-era breadline brooded over the sleek heads of the beautifully dressed and elaborately fed tourists. on his way back to the office after lunch one day, jerry spied a traffic-stopping cluster of humanity in the street outside one of the city's leading department stores. the crowd was gathered around a paddy-wagon. never diffident, jerry elbowed his way through the crush, to see two handsome and once well-groomed gentlemen getting a mussing up from a couple of cops. the suspects, athletic-looking characters, were putting up a good fight, and the policemen didn't like it. as jerry watched, a billy descended on a well-barbered head, and suspect number one ceased resisting arrest. jerry had come into contact with enough extraterrestrials by now so that he knew a tourist when he saw one. the male tourists gave him a violent pain in the neck, but he felt somewhat responsible. he grabbed an elbow of the suspect who remained conscious. "give me your name, bud, and i'll bail you out. what happened?" "oh, we just took a few things off the counters in that store," the tourist answered. "you're very kind, but we have plenty of money for bail, thanks. or is it a bribe you're supposed to hand them?" "if you have plenty of money, why in hell didn't you buy the stuff, instead of stealing it?" "we just thought we'd have a bit of a lark. new experience and all that. when on earth, do as the earthmen do." "a lark!" the biggest policeman grunted. "we'll give you a lark, all right! get in there, you!" he implemented his command with a well-placed kick in the seat of a pair of expertly tailored pants, boosting the tourist into the paddy-wagon, where his unconscious friend had already been deposited. the siren screamed, dispersing the crowd in front of the police vehicle, and jerry went on his way, chuckling. as he passed a hole-in-the-wall bar he knew, he decided to stop for a quick one, to settle the heavy feeling in his stomach that came from eating lobster newburg for lunch. it wasn't a place where you'd care to take a lady, but they served an honest ounce. as jerry pushed through the old-fashioned swinging doors, a burst of sound greeted him. a whiskey baritone was rendering one of the unpublishable versions of "christopher columbo," to the accompaniment of a piano tinkle by the hired help. the customer was obviously from the other side of the tracks--from the other side of the galaxy, in fact--and he was leaning against the piano for the simple reason that he couldn't stand up. he wore a well-cut california-style dinner jacket, and after all night and half the day, the white gabardine was no longer white. several drinks had been spilled on the midnight-blue flannel trousers. only a magnificent physique distinguished him from the earth or garden variety of drunk. jerry stood up to the bar, and as his eyes became accustomed to the dimness, he observed a touching--literally--scene being enacted in the darkest booth. an earthside racetrack tout, whom jerry recognized as one of the habitues of the place, had a gorgeous female tourist backed into a corner. she had retreated as far as the wall permitted, but he had long since caught up. her jaunty, elbow-length chinchilla cape lay on the wet table. her exquisitely simple strapless dinner dress of silver lamã© exposed arms and shoulders that were literally out of this world. the naked effect was relieved only by a diamond, platinum, and emerald choker. jerry knew, though the racetrack tout probably didn't, that the priceless bauble was repositor--synthesized, with an earth museum piece as a model. it was a tossup whether the race track tout was more interested in the diamonds or the tempting flesh they adorned. the girl made no attempt to fight him off. the reason for her acquiescence was not far to seek. the glass before her contained the remains of a "pink lady," which tastes like an ice-cream soda and kicks like four kentucky mules. she moved her left hand to pick up the glass, and jerry caught the flash of a circlet of channel-set baguette diamonds on the third finger. he concluded that she was the wife of the whiskey baritone. that worthy seemed utterly unconcerned about the whole thing, so why should jerry interfere? the racetrack tout left his conquest momentarily, walked over to the bar, handed the bartender a five-spot. without comment, the bartender took down a key tagged 13 from a hook, and the turf expert pocketed it. there was a dingy sign reading "hotel" outside; jerry had always supposed the floors above contained equally dingy furnished rooms. the beautiful tourist's silver heels mounted the back stairs unsteadily. the tout was half steering her, half supporting her. the man was sober enough to know exactly what he was doing. when she came back down those stairs, she would be minus not only her virtue, but her diamond necklace as well. "oh, he knew the world was round-o, that sailors could be found-o," the whiskey baritone sang lustily. jerry left the saloon with a bad taste in his mouth. as he passed through the electric-eye doorway of his office suite, he had the impression that the too perfect inhabitants of all the color advertising pages he had turned out in past years had suddenly come to life. handsome tourists were moving, in chattering groups, from one display case to another. their chatter, as usual, gave him few clues. he still harbored a suspicion that on their home planets, these lovely people might be symbiotes in the bodies of lower animals, or loathsome but intellectual worms. but he never had any success when he tried to pump them about whether they were like earth inhabitants at home, or were issued these magnificent bodies and faces along with their passports to earth. his unreasoning dislike of the males was undoubtedly part jealousy, for they were all tall, handsome, well-dressed, and athletic enough to be signed en masse by hollywood. but the universal utter perfection of limb, features, and complexion, was not at all repulsive in the female. it was quite decorative to have a whole chorus of toothsome girls in paris gowns cluttering up the office. jerry had never seen one of them use a lipstick, rouge, or an eyebrow pencil. the cosmetic business was one of the few that had not profited from the tourist trade, except insofar as lady tourists bought costly perfumes, and earthgirls strove to mimic the natural--or unnatural--coloring of the fair visitors. a few tourists brought their children along, and here the firm, rosy, unblemished skin was in its proper element. tourist children were not one whit more cherubic than well-favored children of earth. a guide from the conducted tours company arrived to round up a batch of tourists, for a visit to the local jails, flop-houses, and gambling dens. he announced they would go by bus, and the horrified yet delighted whoops that greeted this news reminded jerry of a boston society dowager who had just been invited to ride on a camel. as the crowd trickled out the doors, a lovely vision in platinum blonde laid a slender hand on jerry's arm. "are you really the man who first thought of inviting us to this quaint and delightful planet?" she gushed. "i guess i am, lady. how do you like it?" "oh, it's so primitive! so elemental! everybody used to think visiting backward planets was dull and scholarly stuff. it took _you_ to show us how thrilling and exciting it can be!" "i'm glad to hear you say that. some of the tourists are complaining that earth isn't as primitive as the tourist bureau advertising makes it out to be." "oh, you _do_ exaggerate a wee, tiny bit, but it's all in good fun, isn't it? on the whole, i'm not disappointed--especially not in the _men_!" she fluttered eyelashes, so long and dark that they looked artificial, at him. "the men?" jerry asked blankly. "oh, come, come!" the platinum blonde breathed throatily into his ear. "don't pretend to be so innocent! you must have heard of the simply _terrific_ reputation earthmen have acquired on other planets as masterful lovers!" "it's news to me," jerry admitted, "but it sounds like a good drawing card. i'll try to work something like that into our ads." "always thinking about business, aren't you? why don't you think of something else, for a change? me, for instance. don't you feel a little bit sorry for a girl like me, with nothing but perfectly civilized men to go home to?" the girl pouted invitingly. jerry found himself, by imperceptible stages, being backed into a corner. well, well, he thought. perhaps he'd been too harsh in judging that racetrack tout. "since you mention it," jerry said, "i'm not averse to playing the role of galactic beachboy." "what does a beachboy do?" "i'd blush to explain it verbally to a girl unaccustomed to primitive earth customs, but i'm pretty good at sign language. how about dinner tonight?" "well ... if you'll let me pay the check. i do so adore this amazing earth custom of exchanging food for little slips of paper." "the pleasure is all yours, sister. see you at the ritz main dining room--eight o'clock. soup and fish. afterward, we'll look at my photo-murals. now toddle along, baby, if you want to catch the bus to see those hoboes." jerry was walking on the milky way. aside from the profits, this job had its esthetic side, he decided. his exuberance was slightly dampened by the grim expression on his secretary's face. "a very important man has been waiting to see you," she said disapprovingly. "i sent him into your office. the least i could do was put him where he wouldn't have to smell all the perfume these brazen tourist women use. it's enough to make a person ill!" in the visitor's chair before jerry's mother-of-pearl inlaid desk, the ambassador from outer space was waiting, staring morosely at the endlessly repeated welcoming goddess terra on jerry's wall stamp collection. "well, as i live and breathe!" jerry exclaimed, "a real, live b-29 pilot! welcome to my humble grass shack! scotch? cigar? what can i do for you?" "you can put out your bonfire, cannibal," the ambassador said, gruffly. "i think i've stewed enough." "why are you tough, then?" jerry asked. "at me, i mean. i thought i was your best friend in this here jungle. didn't i do you a favor once, mr. ambassador?" "a _favor_? i paid you well for it! not only in money, but by getting advertising space for your precious tourist bureau on the federated planets. i never thought it would lead to this!" "you thought my copy wouldn't pull, eh? not even after i'd demonstrated i could make earth opinion do a flip-flop on that matter repositor deal?" "oh, i was quite sure you could manipulate earthmen. that's your job. but i didn't believe our people would respond in such numbers to an appeal to primitive emotions!" "you weren't alone in that," jerry said smugly. "some very prominent members, of our organization wanted to make the campaign more civilized. i showed them where they were wrong. can't you see that your people are fed up with civilization, right up to their pretty white necks? the very essence of earth's appeal to them is that a trip here gives them a chance to relax their ethics, to play at going native." "don't rub it in!" the ambassador shuddered. "it's nothing new. tourists have always kicked up their heels. guess what i saw while i was out to lunch. the cops grabbed a couple of your boys for shoplifting! they thought it was such fun to ride in the paddy-wagon. back home, of course, they wouldn't think of repositing anything they weren't supposed to, but on earth it's different." "and for monkeyshines like that," the ambassador growled, "i am driven half crazy working out sleep-record courses. '_idioms of earth english_'--'_what not to say on backward planets and why_'--'_earth fashion guide, what you can buy there and what to reposit_.' bah! i'm supposed to be a diplomat, not a fashion adviser!" "why don't you hire some help?" jerry suggested. "i have. i've hired a whole staff, with offices in all major earth cities, to exchange platinum, bullion, and precious stones for earth currencies. it's a man-sized job, i can tell you, to keep earth currencies stable under this load!" "you're doing a very good job," jerry said, soothingly. "you know what one of our citizens asked me yesterday? _how she could get a marriage license!_ your officials had turned her down, because she'd been conditioned not to mention her birthplace and age. mind you, a citizen of the federated planets wanted to marry an earthman and live on this raw, galactic frontier the rest of her life! why, we don't even know whether the races can cross-breed!" "that should be looked into," jerry agreed. "what are you trying to do?" the ambassador demanded, "drag the citizens of the federated planets down to the level of your jungle? you blithely assume those two shoplifters can be trusted with matter repositors when they get back home, but i'm not so sure. we haven't any jails to toss them into, but we may have to establish some. matter-repositor-proof jails!" "that's your problem," jerry said. "all i'm trying to do is make some money for myself and, other businessmen on earth. which i'm doing, thank you. and i doubt that you could stop me, at this point. your citizens would raise quite a howl if my ads stopped appearing in the information bulletins." "money!" the ambassador exclaimed, "all you earthmen think about is money!" he leaned over jerry's desk. "what if you could reposit the money--the gold, that is--without all the work you have to put into entertaining these tourists?" "hmm," jerry said, thinking of his date for that evening, and other equally lovely tourists. "money isn't the only thing in life. and don't forget the income tax. i've got to have some deductible expenses." "knowing you, i'd bet you could figure out some way of handling that little detail." "what's your proposition?" "two years ago, you came to my office, wanting to import matter repositors. i told you earth's civilization wasn't ready for them." "we still aren't, according to what you say about our avaricious instincts." "no, you're not. but you have methods of manipulating public opinion and attitudes that are far more advanced than those found on other planets." "so you admit that earth is advanced in _something_!" jerry said happily. "how would you like to have the name of jerry jergins go down in your history as the originator of the most significant public-relations campaign ever undertaken on this planet?" the ambassador asked, temptingly. "you can handle it, if any man on earth can." "softsoaping me again! what's the campaign? i'll listen to it, but i don't know whether i'll buy it." "your job would be to get earth's psychology and sociology ready for the matter repositor." jerry reflected. "you mean i'd have to eliminate war, supplement the voice of america, and so on? i'd have certain advantages over the voice of america, at that. i wouldn't have a bunch of politicians playing football with my appropriations." "this campaign would have to go further and deeper than the voice of america. you might call it the voice of conscience. its aim would be to make every human being on earth care more about the welfare of his fellow-man than he cares about his own." "a couple of thousand years back," jerry said, soberly, "a better promoter than i tried to put that idea across. the campaign he started is still running. it's taken hold in some quarters, but i wouldn't say public acceptance is anything like worldwide yet." "then you don't think you can do it?" the ambassador asked, his eagerness somewhat deflated. "i'm not committing myself to whether i could or couldn't. i could put the ten commandments on an international hookup. thou shalt not steal. thou shalt not covet thy neighbor his goods. i could get walt disney to dramatize the golden rule." "ah, i see you have some ideas for the copy already," the ambassador said. "i thought i could get you interested in it. then you'll sign a contract?" "no," jerry said, briefly and definitely. "now, wait a minute, mr. jergins," the ambassador protested. "why do you suddenly become blunt and unqualified? do you realize what i'm offering you? in return for ceasing this tourist promotion, i'm offering you the invention that obsolesces all others--the matter repositor!" jerry stood up and placed the palms of his hands flat on his desk. "i told you that you'd learn something in our primitive jungle, mr. ambassador. well, this is it. we may be mechanical morons, according to your standards, but we naked savages can produce anything we need. since we've corrected the misconception that what earth produces isn't good enough for earthmen, and whipped up a tourist trade, business is booming. and when it booms, we can distribute those earth products in a way that suits us pretty well. a primitive way, you may think, but one that is adapted to the unfortunate circumstance that we aren't a bunch of little tin saints living in an ideal world. "i asked you for matter repositors once, and you were wise enough to turn me down. i'm glad you did. they'd cause us more trouble than the atomic bomb. we don't want the damn things. do _you_ understand _that_?" on sudden impulse, jerry strode across his office. there stood a large and brilliantly colored object, jarring oddly with the other furniture. sometimes at a loss to spend his newly acquired wealth, jerry had yielded, a month or so before, to a desire conceived in childhood to own a real honest-to-goodness juke box. jerry fished in his pocket for a nickel, deposited it in the slot, pushed button seven. loud, tinny, and offensively blatant, the strains of "i don't wanna leave the congo" filled the office, effectively drowning out any further remarks the ambassador from outer space might have wished to make. "if you'll pardon me," jerry shouted over the din, "i have some arrow heads to chip--and a potential extraterrestrial mate to woo with a quaint tribal ritual we call dating on earth." fundamentals of prosperity what they are and whence they come by roger w. babson _president babson statistical organization_ new york chicago fleming h. revell company london and edinburgh copyright, 1920, by fleming h. revell company new york: 158 fifth avenue chicago: 17 north wabash ave. london: 21 paternoster square edinburgh: 75 princes street contents foreword i. honesty or steel doors? ii. faith the searchlight of business iii. industry vs. opportunity iv. coöperation--success by helping the other fellow v. our real resources vi. study the human soul vii. boost the other fellow viii. what truly counts ix. what figures show x. where the church falls down xi. the future church foreword some two thousand years ago the greatest teacher who ever walked the earth advised the people of judea not to build their houses on the sand. what he had in mind was that they were looking too much to the structure above ground, and too little to the spiritual forces which must be the foundation of any structure which is to stand. following the war we enjoyed the greatest prosperity this country has ever witnessed;--the greatest activity, the greatest bank clearings, the greatest foreign trade, the greatest railroad gross earnings, the highest commodity prices. we then constructed a ten-story building on a foundation meant for only a two or three story building. hence the problem confronting us business men is to strengthen the foundation or else see the structure fall. i am especially glad of the opportunity to write for business men. there are two reasons:--first, because i feel that the business men are largely responsible for having this ten-story structure on a foundation made for one of only two or three stories; secondly, because i believe such men alone have the vision, the imagination and the ability to strengthen the foundation and prevent the structure from falling. the fact is, we have become crazy over material things. we are looking only at the structure above ground. we are trying to get more smoke from the chimney. we are looking at space instead of service, at profits instead of volume. with our eyes focused on the structure above ground, we have lost sight of those human resources, thrift, imagination, integrity, vision and faith which make the structure possible. i feel that only by the business men can this foundation be strengthened before the inevitable fall comes. when steel rails were selling at $55 a ton, compared with only $25 a ton a few years previous, our steel plants increased their capacity twenty-five per cent. increased demand, you say? no, the figures don't show it. only thirty-one million tons were produced in 1919, compared with thirty-nine million tons in 1916. people have forgotten the gospel of service. the producing power per man has fallen off from fifteen to twenty per cent. we have all been keen on developing consumption. we have devoted nine-tenths of our thought, energy and effort to developing consumption. this message is to beg of every reader to give more thought to developing production, to the reviving of a desire to produce and the realization of joy in production. we are spending millions and millions in every city to develop the good-will of customers, to develop in customers a desire to buy. this is all well and good, but we can't continue to go in one direction indefinitely. we cannot always get steam out of the boiler without feeding the furnace. the time has come when in our own interests, in the interests of our communities, our industry, and of the nation itself, for a while we must stop adding more stories to this structure. instead, we must strengthen the foundations upon which the entire structure rests. r. w. b. i honesty or steel doors? while fifty-one per cent of the people have their eyes on the goal of integrity, our investments are secure; but with fifty-one per cent of them headed in the wrong direction, our investments are valueless. the first fundamental of prosperity is integrity. while on a recent visit to chicago, i was taken by the president of one of the largest banks to see his new safety deposit vaults. he described these--as bank presidents will--as the largest and most marvellous vaults in the city. he expatiated on the heavy steel doors and the various electrical and mechanical contrivances which protect the stocks and bonds deposited in the institution. while at the bank a person came in to rent a box. he made the arrangements for the box, and a box was handed to him. in it he deposited some stocks and bonds which he took from his pocket. then the clerk who had charge of the vaults went to a rack on the wall and took out a key and gave it to the man who had rented the box. the man then put the box into one of the little steel compartments, shut the door and turned the key. he then went away feeling perfectly secure on account of those steel doors and various mechanical and electrical contrivances existing to protect his wealth. i did not wish to give him a sleepless night so i said nothing; but i couldn't help thinking how easy it would have been for that poorly-paid, humpbacked clerk to make a duplicate of that key before he delivered it to the renter of that box. with such a duplicate, the clerk could have made that man penniless within a few minutes after he had left the building. the great steel door and the electrical and mechanical contrivances would have been absolutely valueless. of course the point i am making is that the real security which that great bank in chicago had to offer its clientele lay not in the massive stone columns in front of its structure; nor in the heavy steel doors; nor the electrical and mechanical contrivances. the real strength of that institution rested in the honesty,--the absolute integrity--of its clerks. * * * * * that afternoon i was talking about the matter with a business man. we were discussing securities, earnings and capitalization. he seemed greatly troubled by the mass of figures before him. i said to him: "instead of pawing over these earnings and striving to select yourself the safest bond, you will do better to go to a reliable banker or bond-house and leave the decision with him." "why," he said, "i couldn't do that." "mr. jones," i went on, "tell me the truth! after you buy a bond or a stock certificate, do you ever take the trouble to see if it is signed and countersigned properly? moreover, if you find it signed, is there any way by which you may know whether the signature is genuine or forged?" "no," he said, "there isn't. i am absolutely dependent on the integrity of the bankers from whom i buy the securities." and when you think of it, there is really no value at all in the pieces of paper which one so carefully locks up in these safety deposit boxes. there is no value at all in the bank-book which we so carefully cherish. there is no value at all in those deeds and mortgages upon which we depend so completely. the value rests _first_, in the integrity of the lawyers, clerks and stenographers who draw up the papers; _secondly_, in the integrity of the officers who sign the documents; _thirdly_, in the integrity of the courts and judges which would enable us to enforce our claims; and _finally_, in the integrity of the community which would determine whether or not the orders of the court will be executed. these things which we look upon as of great value:--the stocks, bonds, bank-books, deeds, mortgages, insurance policies, etc., are merely nothing. while fifty-one per cent. of the people have their eyes on the goal of integrity, our investments are secure; but with fifty-one per cent. of them headed in the wrong direction, our investments are valueless. so the first fundamental of prosperity is integrity. without it there is no civilization, there is no peace, there is no security, there is no safety. mind you also that this applies just as much to the man who is working for wages as to the capitalist and every owner of property. integrity, however, is very much broader than the above illustration would indicate. integrity applies to many more things than to money. integrity requires the seeking after, as well as the dispensing of, truth. it was this desire for truth which founded our educational institutions, our sciences and our arts. all the great professions, from medicine to engineering, rest upon this spirit of integrity. only as they so rest, can they prosper or even survive. integrity is the mother of knowledge. the desire for truth is the basis of all learning, the value of all experience and the reason for all study and investigation. without integrity as a basis, our entire educational system would fall to the ground; all newspapers and magazines would become sources of great danger and the publication of books would have to be suppressed. our whole civilization rests upon the assumption that people are honest. with this confidence shaken, the structure falls. and it should fall, for, unless the truth be taught, the nation would be much better off without its schools, newspapers, books and professions. better have no gun at all, than one aimed at yourself. the corner-stone of prosperity is the stone of integrity. ii faith the searchlight of business this religion which we talk about for an hour a week, on sunday, is not only the vital force which protects our community, but it is the vital force which makes our communities. the power of our spiritual forces has not yet been tapped. about three years ago i was travelling in south america. when going from sao paulo up across the tablelands to rio janeiro, i passed through a little poverty-stricken indian village. it was some 3,000 feet above sea level; but it was located at the foot of a great water-power. this water-power, i was told, could easily develop from 10,000 to 15,000 horse-power for twelve months of the year. at the base of this waterfall lived these poverty-stricken indians, plowing their ground with broken sticks, bringing their corn two hundred miles on their backs from the seacoast, and grinding it by hand between two stones. yet,--with a little faith and vision, they could have developed that water-power, even though in a most primitive manner, and with irrigation, could have made that poverty-stricken valley a veritable garden of eden. they simply lacked _faith_. they lacked vision. they were unwilling, or unable, to look ahead to do something for the next generation and trust to the lord for the results. i met the head man of the village and said to him: "why is it that you don't do something to develop this power?" "why, if we started to develop this thing," he answered, "by the time we got it done, we would be dead." indians had lived there for the last two hundred years lacking the vision. no one in that community had the foresight or vision to think or see beyond the end of his day. it was lack of faith which stood between them and prosperity. hence, the second great fundamental of prosperity is that intangible "something,"--known as faith, vision, hope, whatever you may call it. the writer of the book of proverbs says: "where there is no vision, the people perish." statistics teach that where there is no vision, civilization never gets started! the tangible things which we prize so highly,--buildings, railroads, steamships, factories, power plants, telephones, aeroplanes, etc., are but the result of faith and vision. these things are only symptoms of conditions, mere barometers which register the faith and vision of mankind. this religion which we talk about for an hour a week, on sunday, is not only the vital force which protects our community, but it is the vital force which _makes_ our communities. _the power of our spiritual forces has not yet been tapped!_ our grandchildren will look back upon us and wonder why we neglected our trust and our opportunity, just as we look back on those poor indians in brazil who plowed with crooked sticks, grinding their corn between stones and hauling it on their backs two hundred miles from the seaboard. * * * * * these statements are not the result of any special interest as a churchman. i am not a preacher. i am simply a business man, and my work is almost wholly for bankers, brokers, manufacturers, merchants and investors. the concern with which i am associated has one hundred and eighty people in a suburb of boston who are collecting, compiling and distributing statistics on business conditions. we have only one source of income, and that is from the clients who pay us for an analysis of the situation. therefore you may rest assured that it is impossible for us to do any propaganda work in the interests of any one nation, sect, religion or church. the only thing we can give clients is a conclusion based on a diagnosis of a given situation. as probably few of you readers are clients of ours, may i quote from a bulletin which we recently sent to these bankers and manufacturers? "the need of the hour is not more legislation. the need of the hour is more religion. more religion is needed everywhere, from the halls of congress at washington, to the factories, the mines, the fields and the forests. it is one thing to talk about plans or policies, but a plan or policy without a religious motive is like a watch without a spring or a body without the breath of life. the trouble, to-day, is that we are trying to hatch chickens from sterile eggs. we may have the finest incubator in the world and operate it according to the most improved regulations--moreover, the eggs may appear perfect specimens--but unless they have the germ of life in them all our efforts are of no avail." i have referred to the fact that the security of our investments is absolutely dependent upon the faith, the righteousness and the religion of other people. i have stated that the real strength of our investments is due, not to the distinguished bankers of america, but rather to the poor preachers. i now go farther than that and say that the development of the country as a whole is due to this _something_, this indescribable _something_, this combination of faith, thrift, industry, initiative, integrity and vision, which these preachers have developed in their communities. faith and vision do not come from the wealth of a nation. it's the faith and vision which produce the wealth. the wealth of a country does not depend on its raw materials. raw materials are to a certain extent essential and to a great extent valuable; but the nations which to-day are richest in raw materials are the poorest in wealth. even when considering one country--the united states--the principle holds true. the coal and iron and copper have been here in this country for thousands of years, but only within the last fifty years have they been used. water-powers exist even to-day absolutely unharnessed. look the whole world over and there has been no increase in raw materials. there existed one thousand years ago more raw materials than we have to-day, but we then lacked men with a vision and the faith to take that coal out of the ground, to harness the water-powers, to build the railroads and to do other things worth while. so i say, the second great fundamental of prosperity is faith. iii industry vs. opportunity industry is the mother of invention. struggle, sacrifice and burning midnight oil have produced the cotton gin, the sewing machine, the printing press, the steam engine, the electric motor, the telephone, the incandescent lamp and the other great inventions of civilization. some religious enthusiasts think only of the "lilies of the fields" and forget the parable of the talents. a few years ago i was employed by one of the largest publishing houses in the country to make a study of america's captains of industry. the real purpose of the study was to discover some industry or some man that could be helped greatly through national advertising. in connection with that study of those captains of industry, i tabulated their ancestry. these were the seventy greatest manufacturers, merchants and railroad builders, the leading men who have made america by developing the fields, the forests, the mines and the industries. what did i find? i found that only five per cent. of these captains of industry are the sons of bankers; only ten per cent. of them are the sons of manufacturers; fifteen per cent. of them are the sons of merchants, while over thirty per cent. of them are the sons of poor preachers and farmers. why is it that ministers' sons hold a much more important place in the industrial development of america than the sons of bankers? the ministers' sons inherit no wealth, they have no more than their share of college education; they are not especially religious as the world measures religion. in fact, there is an old saying about "ministers' sons and deacons' daughters." i would be false to my reputation as a statistician to hold up these captains of industry as saintly examples for young men to follow. but the fact remains nevertheless that these men are creating america to-day. now, what's the reason? the reason is that these men have a combination of the two traits already mentioned and a third added thereto;--namely, the habit of work. they have inherited a certain rugged integrity from their mothers and a gift of vision from their fathers which, when combined with the habit of work--forced upon them by their family's meager income--means _power_. integrity is a dry seed until put in the ground of faith and allowed to grow. but faith with works is prosperity. a man may be honest and wonder why he does not get ahead; a man may have vision and still remain only a dreamer; but when integrity and vision are combined with hard work, the man prospers. it is the same with classes and nations. it has been said that genius is the author of invention. statistics do not support this statement. the facts show that industry is the mother of invention. struggle, sacrifice and burning midnight oil have produced the cotton gin, the sewing machine, the printing press, the steam engine, the electric motor, the telephone, the incandescent lamp and the other great inventions of civilization. why is it that most of the able men in our great industries came from the country districts? the reason is that the country boy is trained to work. statistics indicate that very seldom does a child, brought up in a city apartment house, amount to much; while the children of well-to-do city people are seriously handicapped. the great educator of the previous generation was not the public school, but rather the _wood box_. those of us parents who have not a wood box for our children to keep filled, or chores for them to do, are unfortunate. run through the list of the greatest captains of industry, as they come to your mind. how many of the men who are really directing the country's business gained their position through inherited wealth? you will find them astonishingly few. there is no "divine right of kings" in business. in fact, statistics show us that the very things which most people think of as advantages, namely, wealth and "not having to work" are really obstacles which are rarely surmounted. industry and thrift are closely allied. economic studies show clearly that ninety-five per cent. of the employers are employers because they systematically saved money. any man who systematically saves money from early youth automatically becomes an employer. he may employ thousands or he may have only two or three clerks in a country store, but he nevertheless is an employer. these same studies show that ninety-five per cent. of the wage workers are wage workers because they have systematically spent their money as fast as they have earned it. they of necessity remain wage workers. these are facts which no labour leader can disprove and which are exceedingly significant. this is especially striking when one considers that the employer often started out at the same wages and in the same community as his wage workers. the employer was naturally industrious and thrifty; while those who remained wage workers were not. the development of this nation through the construction of the transcontinental railways, the financing of the western farms, and the building of our cities is largely due to the old new england doctrine that laziness and extravagance are sins. in some western communities it is popular to laugh at these new england traits; but had it not been for them, these western communities would never have existed. the industry and thrift developed by the old new england religion were the basis of our national growth. i especially desire to emphasize this point because of the position of certain religious enthusiasts who think only of "the lilies of the field" and forget the parable of the talents. it is a fact that the third fundamental of prosperity is industry. iv coöperation--success by helping the other fellow our industrial system has resulted in making many men economic eunuchs. the salvation of our cities, the salvation of our industries and the salvation of our nation depend on discovering something which will revive in man that desire to produce and joy in production which he had instinctively when he was a small boy. a few days ago i was present at a dinner of business men in boston who were called together in order to secure some preferential freight rates for massachusetts. the principal theme of that gathering was to boom massachusetts at the expense of the rest of the country. at the close of the dinner i was asked to give my opinion and said: "let us see how many things there are in this room that we could have were we dependent solely on massachusetts. the chairs and furniture are from michigan; the cotton is from georgia; the linen from ireland; the silver from mexico; the glassware from pennsylvania; the paper from maine; the paint from missouri; the clock from connecticut--and so on." finally i got the courage to ask if there was a single thing in the room that did not originate from some state other than massachusetts. those men were absolutely helpless in finding a single thing. the same fact applies in a general way to every state and every home. look about, where you are sitting now. how many things are there in the room just where you are,--there is a table, a chair, a shoe, a coat, a necktie, a cigar, a lampshade, a piano, a basket--for all of these you are dependent upon others. the same fact is true when we analyze one staple like shoes which, primarily, are made of leather. where does the leather come from? just follow that leather from the back of the steer until you buy it in the form of shoes. think where that steer was raised, and where the leather was tanned. think of all the men engaged in the industry from the cow-punchers to the salesmen in the stores. but there is more than leather involved in shoes. there is cotton in the shoe lacing and lining. there is metal in the nails and eyelets. not only must different localities coöperate to produce a shoe; but various industries must give and take likewise. civilization is ultimately dependent on the ability of men to coöperate. the best barometer of civilization is the desire and ability of men to coöperate. the willingness to share with others,--the desire to work with others is the great contribution which christianity has given to the world. the effect of this new spirit is most thrilling when one considers the clothes which he has on his back, the food which he has on the table, the things which he has in the house, and thinks of the thousands of people whose labour has directly contributed toward these things. now this clearly shows that the fourth great fundamental of prosperity is coöperation, the willingness and ability of men to coöperate, to serve one another, to help one another, to give and to take. but the teachings of jesus along these lines have a very much broader application than when applied merely to raw materials, or even manufactured products. as we can begin to prosper only when we develop into finished products the raw materials of the fields, mines and forests, so we can become truly prosperous only as we develop the greatest of all resources,--the human resources. not only does christianity demand that we seek to help and build up others; but our own prosperity depends thereon as well. * * * * * when in washington, during the war, i had a wonderful opportunity of meeting the representatives of both labour and capital. i had some preconceived ideas on the labour question when i went to washington; but now they are all gone. i am perfectly willing, now, to agree with the wage worker, to agree with the employer, to agree with both or to agree with neither. but this one thing i am sure of, and that is that the present system doesn't work. the present system is failing in getting men to produce. by nature man likes to produce. our boy, as soon as he can toddle out-of-doors, starts instinctively to make a mud pie. when he gets a little older he gets some boards, shingles and nails and builds a hut. just as soon as he gets a knife, do you have to show him how to use it? he instinctively begins to make a boat or an arrow or perhaps something he has never seen. why? because in his soul is a natural desire to produce and an inborn joy in production. but what happens to most of these boys after they grow up? our industrial system has resulted in almost stultifying men economically and making most of them economically non-productive. why? i don't know. i simply say it happens and the salvation of our industries depends on discovering something which will revive in man that desire to produce and that joy in production which he had instinctively when he was a small boy. increased wages will not do it. shorter hours will not do it. the wage worker must feel right and the employer must feel right. it is all a question of feeling. feelings rule this world,--not things. the reason that some people are not successful with collective bargaining and profit sharing and all these other plans is because they think that men act according to what they say, or according to what they learn, or according to that in which they agree. men act according to their _feelings_, and "good feeling" is synonymous with the spirit of coöperation. one cannot exist without the other and prosperity cannot continue without both. hence the fourth fundamental of prosperity is coöperation. v our real resources we have gone daffy over things like steam, electricity, water power, buildings, railroads, and ships and we have forgotten the human soul upon which all of these things depend and from which all of these things originate. two captains of industry were standing, one day, on the bridge at niagara looking at the great falls. one man turned to the other and said: "behold the greatest source of undeveloped power in america." "no. the greatest source of undeveloped power in america is the soul of man," the other replied. i was talking with a large manufacturer the other day, and he told me that he was supporting scholarships in four universities to enable young men to study the raw materials which he is using in his plant. i asked him if he was supporting any scholarships to study the human element in his plant, and he said "no." yet when asked for definite figures, it appeared that eighty per cent. of every dollar which he spends, goes for labour, and only twenty per cent. goes for materials. he is endowing four scholarships to study the twenty per cent. and is not doing a thing to study the eighty per cent.! statistics show that the greatest undeveloped resources in america are not our mines or our forests or our streams, but rather the human souls of the men and women who work for us. this is most significant when one resorts to statistics and learns that everything that we have,--every improvement, every railroad, every ship, every building costing in excess of $5,000, every manufacturing concern employing over twenty men, yes, every newspaper and book worth while, has originated and been developed in the minds of less than two per cent. of the people. the solution of our industrial problems and the reduction of the cost of living depend not on fighting over what is already produced, but upon producing more. this means that this two per cent. must be increased to four per cent., and then to six per cent. if all the good things which we now have, come from the enterprise of only two per cent., it is evident that we would all have three times as much if the two per cent were increased to six per cent. jesus was absolutely right in his contention that if we would seek first the kingdom of god and his righteousness all these other things would naturally come to us. this is what jesus had in mind when he urged people to give and serve, promising that such giving and serving should be returned to them a hundred fold or more. jesus never preached unselfishness or talked sacrifice as such, but only urged his hearers to look through to the end, see what the final result would be and do what would be best for them in the long run. jesus urged his followers to consider the spiritual things rather than the material, and the eternal things rather than the temporal; but not in the spirit of sacrifice. the only sacrifice which jesus asked of his people was the same sacrifice which the farmer makes when he throws his seed into the soil. the story of the loaves and fishes is still taught as a miracle, but the day will come when it will not be considered such. the same is true regarding the incident when jesus found that his disciples had been fishing all night without results and he suggested that they cast the net on the other side. they followed his advice and the net immediately filled with so many fishes that they could hardly pull it up. if we to-day would give more thought to the spiritual and less to the material, we would have more in health, happiness, and prosperity. the business men to-day would be far better off if--like the fishermen of galilee--we would take jesus' advice and cast our net on "the other side." we are told that with sufficient faith we could remove mountains. have mountains ever been removed or tunnelled without faith? the bridging of rivers, the building of railroads, the launching of steamships, and the creation of all industries are dependent on the faith of somebody. too much credit is given both to capital and labour in the current discussions of to-day. the real credit for most of the things which we have is due to some human soul which supplied the faith that was the mainspring of every enterprise. furthermore in most instances this human soul owes this germ of faith to some little country church with a white steeple and old-fashioned furnishings. the reason i say "old-fashioned" church is because our fathers were more willing to rely upon the power of faith than many of us to-day. what they lacked in many other ways was more than compensated by their faith in god. they got, through faith, "that something" which men to-day are trying to get through every other means. all the educators, all the psychologists, all the inspirational writers cannot put into a man the vision and the will to do things which are gained by a clear faith. most of us to-day are frantically trying to invent a machine which will solve our problems, when all the while we have the machine within us, if we will only set it going. that machine is the human soul. the great problem to-day is to develop the human soul, to develop this wonderful machine which each one of us has between his ears. only as this is developed can we solve our other problems. when we give as much thought to the solution of the human problem as we give to the solution of the steam problem or the electrical problem, we will have no labour problem. we have gone daffy over things like steam, electricity, water-power, buildings, railroads and ships, and we have forgotten the human soul upon which all of these things depend and from which all of these things originate. vi study the human soul the first step is to give more thought and attention to people, to establish more points of contact. let us do humanly, individually, man to man, what we are trying to do in a great big way. i was visiting the home of a famous manufacturer recently and he took me out to his farm. he showed me his cattle. above the head of each heifer and each cow was the pedigree. the most careful record was kept of every animal. he had a blue-print in his library at home of every one of those animals. yet when we began later to talk about the labour problem in his own plant and i asked him how many of his people he knew personally, he told me,--i quote his words: "why, they are all alike to me, mr. babson. i don't know one from the other." later in the evening--it was during the christmas vacation--a young fellow drove up to the house in a fancy automobile, came in and asked for this manufacturer's only daughter in order to take her to a party. i didn't like the looks of the fellow very well. after they had gone out, i said to the father: "who is that chap?" the father replied: "i don't know; some friend of mary's." the father had every one of his cows blue-printed, but he didn't know the name of the man who came to get his daughter and who didn't deliver her until two o'clock the next morning! that man was neglecting the human soul, both in his factory and in his home. * * * * * i repeat that we have gone crazy over structures above ground. we are absolutely forgetting the greatest of our resources,--the great spiritual resource, upon which everything depends. how shall we develop these resources? certainly we are not developing this great spiritual resource in the public schools. the educational system was originally founded by the church to train the children in the fundamentals of righteousness. gradually, but constantly, we have drifted away from this goal and to-day the purpose for which our schools were started has been almost entirely lost. in some states it is now a criminal offence for a school superintendent to ask a prospective school teacher what she believes or whether she has any religion whatever! under these conditions, is it surprising that the spiritual resources of our children are lying dormant? much of the prosperity of this nation is due to the family prayers which were once daily held in the homes of our fathers. to a very large extent this custom has gone by. whatever the arguments pro and con may be, the fact nevertheless remains that such family prayers nurtured and developed these spiritual resources to which the prosperity of the nation is due. the custom of family prayers should be revived along with many other good new england customs which some modern radicals may ridicule, but to which they owe all that they possess. the masses to-day are getting their real education from the daily newspapers. many of these newspapers have much good material, but the great effort of the daily press is not to make _producers_, but rather to make _consumers_. the policy of the daily press is not to get people to serve, but rather to get them to buy. not only is the larger portion of the newspapers given up to advertising, but most of this advertising is of non-essentials, if not of luxuries. with this advertising constantly before the people of the country, it is but natural that the material things should seem of greatest importance. to remedy this situation is a great problem to-day facing the christian business men of this country. what shall we do about it? the first step is to give more thought and attention to people, and to establish more points of contact. let us do humanly, individually, man to man, what we are trying to do in a great big way. another method to develop this human resource is to give people responsibility. moreover, we must do so if the nation is to be truly prosperous. vii boost the other fellow just as our property is safe only as the other fellow's property is safe, just as our daughter is safe only as the other fellow's daughter is safe, so it also is true that in order to develop the human soul in other men, we have to give those men something. my little girl has a black cat; about once in four months this cat has kittens. opposite our place is a man who has an airedale dog. when that dog comes across the street and that cat has no kittens, the cat immediately "beats it" as fast as she can, with the dog after her. but when that dog comes across the street and that cat has the responsibility of some kittens, she immediately turns on the dog and the _dog_ "beats it" with the cat after him. it is the same dog, the same cat, and the same backyard; but in one instance the cat has no responsibilities and in the other case she has. responsibilities develop faith, vision, courage, initiative, and other things that make the world go round. just as our property is safe, only as the other fellow's property is safe; just as our daughter is safe, only as the other fellow's daughter is safe; so is it also true that, in order to develop the human soul in other men, we have to give those men something. we must give them a chance. we must give them opportunity. we must give them a boost. all of us are simply storage batteries. we get out of life what we put into life. we care for others, not in accordance with what they do for us, but rather in accordance with what we have done for them. i am quite often asked about investments. well, there are times, about once in three or four years--during panics, when every one is scared to death--that i invest in stocks. there are other times when i advise the purchase of bonds. the fact is, however, that i have not made my money investing either in stocks or bonds. what money i have made has come from investing in boys and girls, young men and young women. there is a common belief current to-day that only people with experience are worth while. but i say: quit looking for the experienced salesmen and trying to make a man out of him; get a _man_, and then make a salesman of him. i have a young man in my business who was delivering trunks for an express company twelve years ago. to-day he is my sales manager and has built our gross from $100,000 to $1,000,000. one of my best experts, a man who is sought for by the leading chambers of commerce all over the land, was a carpenter on my garage nine years ago. another one of my experts, a man the demand for whose services i cannot supply, never acquired recognition until he was over forty-five years of age. i found him keeping hens at wellesley farms! a young lady in my office to whom i pay $200 a week and who is worth, to me, $1,000 a week, i picked up at $4 a week twelve years ago. such cases exist everywhere. you men yourselves know them. you look over your own organizations. who are the men who are really doing things? are they the men you acquired ready-made from other concerns? no! they are the men that have been taken up and developed. these are the men that have made money for you and have created the business enterprise of which you are the head. yet when we have reached a point of prestige, and have a big business, we are tempted to say: "i haven't time to develop any more people, i have got to get them already made." this is a big mistake. * * * * * i beg my readers--those who have them--to get your foremen together. say to the partners or the officials of your concern: "haven't we given too much thought to developing the structure? aren't we piling too many stories one upon another with too little thought to the foundation?" then go out and look over your plant and select a few people in each department to whom you will give a real opportunity. start in to develop them and thereby strengthen the foundation of the business and the prosperity of the nation. viii what truly counts the greatest resources in the world to-day are human resources, not resources of iron, copper and lumber. the great need of the hour is to strengthen this human foundation and you business men are the one group that can do it. when it comes to the sale of goods, the same principle applies. eighty per cent. of our sales organizations are devoted to selling to ten per cent. of the population. we have forgotten to consider whether or not goods are needed. we only consider whether or not they are being bought. we are forgetting to establish new markets, but rather are scrambling over the markets already secured. tremendous opportunities exist in developing new industries, in creating new communities, in relocating the center of production from one community to another community to match up with the center of consumption. we have forgotten the latent power in the human soul, in the individual, in the community, in the different parts of the country. we have forgotten those human possibilities upon which all prosperity ultimately depends. i cannot perhaps emphasize this any more than by saying that the foundation of progress is spiritual, not material. the greatest resources of the world to-day are human resources,--not resources of iron, copper and lumber. the great need of the hour is to strengthen this human foundation and revive in men a desire to produce and a joy in service. business men are the one group that can do it. they understand the emotions, understand the importance of the intangible things. they understand how to awaken in people new motives. so my appeal is not to wait too long to revive man and awaken the soul which is slumbering to-day. the nation is only a mass of individuals. the true prosperity of a country depends upon the same qualities as the true prosperity of its people. as religion is necessary for the man, it is also necessary for the nation. as the soul of man needs to be developed, so also does the soul of the nation. * * * * * let me tell one more personal incident. not long ago i was at my washington office spending the week. while there a little western union messenger girl came in to apply for a position. it was in the afternoon--about half-past five. i was struck with the intelligence of the girl's face and asked her two or three questions. she was tired. i asked her to sit down. i was astonished to hear her story. she had been born and brought up in the mountains of west virginia,--many miles from civilization. her father and mother died when she was four years old. she had been living with an old grandfather and brother. when i began to talk with her i found her to have a most remarkable acquaintance with emerson, with thoreau, with bernard shaw and with the old eastern writers. i said to her: "how is it that you are delivering telegrams in a khaki suit and a soldier cap?" she replied: "because i could get nothing else to do. i lived down there in the mountains just as long as i could. i had to get to the city where i could express myself and develop my finer qualities. when i got to washington there was nothing that i could do. they asked me if i could typewrite, but i had never seen a typewriter. finally, after walking the streets for a while, i got a job as a western union messenger." i wrote mrs. babson and made arrangements to have the girl come to wellesley and work for a few months with the babson organization. i saw in her certain qualities which, if developed, should make her very useful to someone somewhere. she came to wellesley. about a month after her arrival i was obliged to leave on a two months' trip and mrs. babson invited her up to dine the night before i left. i told her that i was going to speak while away on "america's undeveloped resources." after dinner she went to my desk and took her pen and scribbled these lines and said: "perhaps during your talk on america's greatest undeveloped resources you will give those men a message from a western union girl." these are the lines she wrote. they are by ella wheeler wilcox. i gave a beggar from my little store of wealth some gold; he spent the shining ore, and came again and yet again, still cold and hungry, as before. i gave a thought--and through that thought of mine, he found himself, the man supreme, divine, fed, clothed and crowned with blessing manifold; and now he begs no more. the mind of man is a wonderful thing, but unless the soul of man is awakened he must lack faith, power, originality, ambition,--those vital elements which make a man a real producer. i do not say that you can awaken this force in every soul. if you are an employer, perhaps only a few of all your employees can be made to understand. but this much is certain,--in every man or woman in whom you can loose the power of this invisible something, you will mobilize a force, not only for his or her good, but for the good and perhaps the very salvation of your own business. ix what figures show panics are caused by spiritual causes rather than financial. prosperity is the result of righteousness rather than of material things. the large black areas on the adjoining chart are formed by combining and plotting current figures on new building, crops, clearings, immigration, total foreign trade, money, failures, commodity prices, railroad earnings, stock prices and politics in order to give a composite view of business in the united states. (when interstate commerce reports of earnings of all united states railroads became available, january, 1909, this record was substituted in place of the earnings of ten representative roads which had been used previous to that time. revised scales for monetary figures were also introduced, in august, 1912.) [illustration] the line x-y represents the country's net gain or growth. based on the economic theory that "action and reaction are equal when the two factors of time and intensity are multiplied to form an area," the sums of the areas above and below said line x-y must, over sufficiently long periods of time, be equal, provided enough subjects are included, properly weighed and combined. an area of prosperity is always followed by an area of depression; an area of depression in turn is always followed by an area of prosperity. the areas, however, need not have the same shapes. it will be seen that each area is divided into halves by a narrow white line. this is to emphasize the fact that the first halves of areas below the x-y line are really reactions from the extravagance, inefficiency and corruption which existed during the latter half of the preceding "prosperity" area. contrariwise, the first halves of areas above the x-y line are really reactions from the economy, industry and righteousness developed during the hard times just preceding. the high points of the stock market have come in the early part of the prosperity areas and the low points have come about the beginning of the depression areas. in 1914 the war held down prices of all securities. the highest prices of bonds have usually come about the end of the depression areas and high money rates, and lowest bond prices at about the end of the prosperity areas. but what causes these fluctuations in business and prices? statistics show that panics are caused by spiritual causes, rather than financial, and that prosperity is the result of righteousness rather than of material things. hence, the importance to industry and commerce of the forces already mentioned. these spiritual forces are the true fundamentals of prosperity. this in turn leads us to consider from where they come and upon what we are to depend for their further development. the following pages will give the answer. * * * * * what are the sources of these fundamentals of prosperity? where do we get this faith, integrity, industry, coöperation and interest in the soul of man upon which civilization is based? as already explained, we do not get it from the raw materials. we have always had the raw materials. we do not get it from education. from a statistical point of view germany is the best educated country in the world. it has the least illiteracy. it has the largest percentage of scientific culture. no, these three fundamentals do not come from education. they do not come from the inheritance of property. i mentioned in the preceding pages the investigation we made of leading captains of industry in america, the men who head the various greatest industries in this country. out of this group of men, only ten per cent. inherited their business, while only fifteen per cent. received special education. this shows that the source of these qualities is from something more than wealth or education. we are striving and even slaving to lay up property for our children, when statistics clearly show that the more we lay up for them the worse off they are going to be. if statistics demonstrate any one thing, they demonstrate that the less money we leave our children the better off they will be; not only spiritually and physically, but also financially. when it comes to the question of education, we work and economize to give our children an education and to send our children to college. yet statistics show that only a small percentage of these leading business men are college graduates. the success of individuals, the success of communities, the success of nations, depends on these fundamentals,--integrity, faith, industry, brotherly kindness and an interest in the soul of man. to what do we owe these great fundamental qualities? _statistics show clearly that we owe them to religion._ yes, and to the old-fashioned religion of our forefathers. moreover, i say this not as a churchman. i would give the same message if i were speaking to a group of bankers or a group of engineers. i was first brought into the church through the christian endeavour society, but i was really converted to the bible teachings through a study of statistics. to religion we owe our civilization and to the church we owe our religion. all there is in the world to-day that is worth while comes from men filled with, and from groups actuated by, these fundamentals of integrity, faith, industry, brotherly love and those other factors which come only through god. the church to-day deserves the credit for keeping these factors before the world. hence, it is evident that the people of america have not the bankers to thank for their security and prosperity, but rather the preachers and the churches. to these men we are obligated for our growth and development. x where the church falls down become saturated with christ's principles, be clean and upright, coöperate with one another, have faith, serve, trust the almighty for the results, and you will never have to worry about property. "if you will do these things, all of the others will be given to you." there are two groups of people who criticize the church. first, there are those who claim great love for their fellow-men, but do not go to church because it is allied with the property interests of the community. i believe that to be the fundamental reason why the wage workers, labour leaders, socialists and radicals are not interested in the church. they believe that the church is too closely allied with property. i have been severely criticized myself for presenting the church as a defender of property and as a means of making your home, your business and your securities safer. such critics are perfectly conscientious and the church suffers much because those people, in their love for humanity, are antagonistic to the church. the second group are those defenders of property who look upon the church as impractical; who consider the golden rule as something all right for the minister to talk about on sundays, but something useless to try to follow during the week. those men criticize the church for preaching love, for talking the sermon on the mount, and for being what they say is "impractical." so the church suffers to-day by having both of these groups stand off alone. neither of them is interested in the church, the most important organization in america. it is the church which has created america, which has developed our schools, which has created our homes, which has built our cities, which has developed our industries, which has made our hospitals, charities, and which has done everything that is worth while in america. yet to-day, the church is the most discarded industry of all, because it has not the coöperation of either of the above groups,--the radical group which claims to be interested only in humanity and not in property, and the propertied group which frankly says that it is primarily interested in property and not humanity. it seems that we should stop side-stepping this question. instead we should face it squarely and answer both of these criticisms. my answer is as follows: jesus was not interested in property, _per se_. there is no question but that jesus had no interest in property. these things which look so important to us,--houses, roads, taxation, buildings, fields, crops, foreign trade, ships,--it is very evident were insignificant to jesus. when any of jesus' disciples came to him to settle some property question, he pushed them aside and said he was too busy to consider it. i am sure that if jesus were here to-day, he would tell us all that we are idiots for striving so to accumulate things--building ourselves bigger houses, getting bigger bank accounts and more automobiles. hence, when the socialist or the radical or the labour leader complains to me, i frankly admit this fact. without doubt the church should emphasize that property _of itself_ is of no value, and the only things worth while in life are happiness and the health and the freedom which come from living an upright, simple life. on the other hand, and this point i wish to emphasize just as strongly, jesus took the position throughout his teachings, that if his disciples would simply get saturated with his fundamentals, if they would be clean and upright, if they would coöperate with one another, if they would have faith to serve and trust the almighty for the results, they would never have to worry about property. property would take care of itself. jesus emphasized, first, that they should not think of property; but he always closed his discourses by some such statement as this: "if you will do these things, all of the others will be given to you." it is absolutely impossible for any individual to develop the above fundamentals of prosperity,--faith, integrity, industry and brotherly kindness--without being successful. i care not whether he is a doctor, teacher, banker, lawyer, business man or manufacturer. that same thing is true of groups and of nations. it is fundamental law, "whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap." those who serve will be served; those who knock will be knocked; those who boost will be boosted. we are paid in the coin that we give. we are forgiven as we forgive. if we are friendly, we will make friends. statistics show that the church is the greatest factor in the worldly success of men, groups and nations. some readers may have seen a book written by professor carver of harvard entitled, "the religion worth having." in that book the author discusses the various denominations of christianity. then he says most conclusively that the religion worth having, the religion that will survive, is the religion which produces the most. yet this production will not come by seeking production _per se_, but rather by the development of these fundamental characteristics which have been described. try as you will you cannot separate the factor of religion from economic development. in the work conducted by my organization at wellesley hills we study the trend of religious interest as closely as we do the condition of the banks or the supply of and demand for commodities. statistics of church membership form one of the best barometers of business conditions. we have these figures charted back for the past fifty years. whenever this line of religious interest turns downward and reaches a low level, history shows that it is time to prepare for a reaction and depression in business conditions. every great panic we have ever had has been foreshadowed by a general decline in observance of religious principles. on the other hand, when the line of religious interest begins to climb and the nation turns again to the simple mode of living laid by in the bible, then it is time to make ready for a period of business prosperity. xi the future church the time is coming when the church will awake to its great opportunities. the greatest industry in america but the most backward and inefficiently operated, is still in the stage-coach class. of course the church is very far from developed. the church is in the same position to-day as were the water-powers fifty years ago. the church has great resources; but these resources are sadly undeveloped. from an efficiency point of view, from an organization point of view, from a production point of view, the church to-day is in the stage-coach class. it holds within itself the keys of prosperity. it holds within itself the salvation and solution of our industrial, commercial and international problems. yet it is working, or at least the protestant branch is open, only three or four hours a week. the church has the greatest opportunity to-day of any industry. it is the least developed industry, the most inefficiently operated, and the most backward in its methods. let us shut our eyes and look ahead at what it will be twenty-five years from now. let us imagine five churches within a radius of five miles. all of them now operating independently. each one open only a few hours a week. twenty-five years from now these five churches will be linked up together under a general manager who will not be a parson, but who will be a business man. to-day the preacher of our churches is a combination of preacher, business manager, and salesman. he is the service department, the finance department and everything but the janitor. the church is being operated to-day as a college would be operated with one professor, who would be president, treasurer, general manager, and everything else. the church is being operated to-day as a factory with simply a production man and no one to tend the finances or the sales. manufacturers reading this book know how long a factory could be run with only a superintendent and no one to sell or finance the proposition. twenty-five years from to-day, instead of the pastor being at the head of the church and a few good people doing voluntary work, there will be four or five churches of the same denomination united under one general manager. i do not mean by this that four of them will be closed. they will all be open much more than they are now; but they will all be under one general manager and will be taking orders from that general manager. twenty-five years from to-day the churches will be self-supporting. the days of begging will be over. religion has been cheapened by singing about "salvation's free for you and me." when we have our legal difficulties, we go to a lawyer and pay him; when we have a pain we go to a doctor and pay him; if we want our children taught we pay the price; but if we want our children instructed in the fundamentals of prosperity upon which their future depends, we send them to a sunday school for a half-hour a week with the possibility of having them taught by a silly girl who doesn't know her work. in any event the parent seldom takes the trouble to ascertain the quality of the teaching. the time is coming when the church will awake to its great principles and opportunities. the greatest industry in america is still the most backward and most inefficiently operated. when these four or five churches are combined, the preacher will not have to spend half the week in preparing a different sermon every sunday. he will have two weeks or a month to prepare that sermon. he will have time and have the "pep" and energy to deliver it to you so you won't go to sleep while sitting in the pews. the audience will then hear the same preacher only once each month, and the preacher will then have more than one congregation to appeal to. the same man is not going to be expected to preach on love, hate, the league of nations, how to settle labour disputes and the health of the community and every other subject. all of these men will preach the salvation of jesus, but each one will specialize in one particular phase of the christian life, such as faith, integrity, industry, coöperation. then we will take more stock in our preachers because they won't pretend to know every subject. then the preacher will not be of lesser intelligence than the average audience. fifty years ago the ablest men in every community were the preachers, the doctors, and the lawyers. they were the only college graduates of the town and were looked up to. to-day, while we pay our salesmanagers from $15,000 to $20,000 a year, and lawyers and doctors large fees, we pay our preachers only miserable salaries. it's a damnable disgrace to all of us. i often think that if jesus were to come back to us, that he would take for his text that thought from the sermon on the mount, "if you have aught against your neighbour, before you enter into your worship go and square up." i think that when he came in to speak to us on sunday morning, he would say: "gentlemen, i suggest that before we have this service, we raise funds to pay the preacher a decent salary." * * * * * just before i went to brazil i was the guest of the president of the argentine republic. after lunching one day we sat in his sun parlour looking out over the river. he was very thoughtful. he said, "mr. babson, i have been wondering why it is that south america with all its great natural advantages is so far behind north america notwithstanding that south america was settled before north america." then he went on to tell how the forests of south america had two hundred and eighty-six trees that can be found in no book of botany. he told me about many ranches that had thousands of acres under alfalfa in one block. he mentioned the mines of iron, coal, copper, silver, gold; all those great rivers and water-powers which rival niagara. "why is it, with all these natural resources, south america is so far behind north america?" he asked. well, those of you who have been there know the reason. but, being a guest, i said: "mr. president, what do you think is the reason?" he replied: "i have come to this conclusion. south america was settled by the spanish who came to south america in search of _gold_, but north america was settled by the pilgrim fathers who went there in search of _god_." friends, let us as american citizens never kick down the ladder by which we climbed up. let us never forget the foundation upon which all permanent prosperity is based. _printed in the united states of america_ advance agent by christopher anvil illustrated by finlay [transcriber's note: this etext was produced from galaxy science fiction february 1957. extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the u.s. copyright on this publication was renewed.] raveling porcy's systematized enigma, dan found himself with a spy's worst break--he was saddled with the guise of a famed man! i dan redman stooped to look in the mirror before going to see the director of a section. the face that looked back wasn't bad, if he had expected strong cheekbones, copper skin and a high-arched nose. but dan wasn't used to it yet. he straightened and his coat drew tight across chest and shoulders. the sleeves pulled up above hands that felt average, but that the mirror showed to be huge and broad. dan turned to go out in the hall and had to duck to avoid banging his head on the door frame. on the way down the hall, he wondered just what sort of job he had drawn this time. dan stopped at a door lettered: a section j. kielgaard director a pretty receptionist goggled at him and said to go in. dan opened the inner door. kielgaard--big, stocky, expensively dressed--looked up and studied dan as he came in. apparently satisfied, he offered a chair, then took out a small plastic cartridge and held it in one hand. "dan," he said, "what do you know about subspace and null-points?" "practically nothing," admitted dan honestly. * * * * * kielgaard laughed. "then i'll fill you in with the layman's analogy, which is all _i_ know. suppose you have a newspaper with an ant on the middle of the front page. to get to the middle of page two, the ant has to walk to the edge of the paper, then walk back on the inside. now suppose the ant could go _through_ the page. the middle of page two is just a short distance away from the middle of page one. that going _through_, instead of around, is like travel in subspace. and a null-point is a place just a short distance away, going through subspace. the middle of page two, for instance, is a null-point for the middle of page one." "yes," said dan patiently, waiting for the point of the interview. kielgaard pushed the plastic cartridge he'd been holding through a slot in his desk. a globe to one side lighted up a cottony white, with faint streaks of blue. "this," he said, "is porcys." dan studied the globe. "under that cloud blanket, it looks as if it might be a water world." "it is. except for a small continent, the planet is covered with water. and the water is full of seafood--_edible_ seafood." dan frowned, still waiting. "galactic enterprises," said kielgaard, "has discovered a region in subspace which has porcys for one null-point and earth for another." "oh," said dan, beginning to get the point. "and earth's hungry, of course. galactic can ship the seafood straight through subspace at a big profit." "that's the idea. but there's one trouble." kielgaard touched a button, and on the globe, the white layer vanished. the globe was a brilliant blue, with a small area of mingled green and grayish-brown. "the land area of the planet is inhabited. galactic must have the permission of the inhabitants to fish the ocean. and galactic needs to close the deal fast, or some other outfit, like trans-space, may get wind of things and move in." kielgaard looked at the globe thoughtfully. "all we know about the porcyns could be put on one side of a postage stamp. they're physically strong. they have a few large cities. they have an abundant supply of seafood. they have spaceships and mataform transceivers. this much we know from long-distance observation or from the one porcyn we anesthetized and brain-spied. we also know from observation that the porcyns have two other habitable planets in their solar system--fumidor, a hot inner planet, and an earthlike outer planet called vacation planet." kielgaard drummed his fingers softly. "granting the usual course of events, dan, what can we expect to happen? the porcyns have an abundance of food, a small living area, space travel and two nearby habitable planets. what will they do?" "colonize the nearby planets," said dan. * * * * * "right," said kielgaard. "only they aren't doing it. we've spied both planets till we can't see straight. fumidor has a mine entrance and a mataform center. vacation planet has a mataform center and one or two big buildings. and that's it. there's no emigration from porcys to the other two planets. instead, there's a sort of cycling flow from porcys to vacation planet to fumidor to porcys. why? "the porcyn we brain-spied," he went on, "associated vacation planet with 'rejuvenation.' what does that mean we're up against? galactic wants to make a contract, but not till they know what they're dealing with. there are some races it's best to leave alone. this 'rejuvenation' might be worth more than the seafood, sure, but it could also be a sackful of trouble." dan waited, realizing that kielgaard had come to the crux of the matter. kielgaard said, "galactic wants us to find the answers to three problems. one, how do the porcyns keep the size of their population down? two, what is the connection between rejuvenation and 'vacation planet'? and three, do the porcyns have a proper mercantile attitude? are they likely to make an agreement? will they keep one they do make?" kielgaard looked intently at dan. "the only way we're likely to find the answers in a reasonable time is to send someone in. you're elected." "just me?" asked dan in surprise. "all your eggs in one basket?" "in a situation like this," said kielgaard, "one good man is worth several gross of dubs. we're relying on you to keep your eyes open and your mind on what you're doing." "and suppose i don't come back?" "galactic probably loses the jump it's got on trans-space and you miss out on a big bonus." "when do i leave?" "tomorrow morning. but today you'd better go down and pick up a set of porcyn clothes we've had made for you and some of their money. it'd be a good idea to spend the evening getting used to things. we've implanted in your brain the porcyn language patterns we brain-spied and we've installed in your body cavity a simple organo-transmitter you can use during periods of calm. because the porcyns are physically strong and possibly worship strength, we've had your body rebuilt to one of the most powerful human physique patterns--that of an american indian--that we have on record." they shook hands and dan went to his room. he practiced the porcyn tongue till he had some conscious familiarity with it. then he tried his strength to make sure he wouldn't accidentally use more force than he intended. then, while the evening was still young, he went to bed and fell asleep. it was dan's experience that everything possible went wrong the first few days on a new planet and he wanted to be wide-awake enough to live through it. ii the next day, dan left in a spacetug that galactic was sending on a practice trip through subspace to porcys. from the tug, he went by mataform to the lab ship in the porcyn sea. here he learned that he had only twenty minutes during which conditions would be right to make the next mataform jump to a trawler close to the mainland. dan had wanted to talk to the men on the lab ship and learn all they could tell him about the planet. this being impossible, he determined to question the trawler crew to the limit of their patience. when dan reached the trawler, it was dancing like a blown leaf in a high wind. he became miserably seasick. that evening, there was a violent electrical storm which lasted into the early morning. dan spent the whole night nauseously gripping the edge of his bunk, his legs braced against the violent heave and lurch of the trawler. before dawn of the next day, aching in every muscle, his insides sore and tender, his mind fuzzy from lack of sleep, dan was set ashore on a dark, quiet and foggy strip of beach. he stood for a moment in the soft sand, feeling it seem to dip underfoot. this, he thought, was undoubtedly the worst start he had ever made on any planet anywhere. from around him in the impenetrable fog came distant croakings, whistlings and hisses. the sounds were an unpleasant suggestion that something else had gone wrong. between bouts of sickness, dan had tried to arrange with the crew to land him near the outskirts of a porcyn city. but the sounds were those of the open country. what dan wanted was to go through the outskirts of the city before many people were moving around. he could learn a great deal from their homes, their means of transportation and the actions of a few early risers. he could learn from the things he expected to see, or from the lack of them, _if_ he was there to see them. dan moved slowly inland, crossed a ditch and came to what seemed to be a macadam road. he checked his directions and started to walk. he forced the pace so his breath came hard, and hoped it would pump some life into his dulled brain and muscles. as his senses gradually began to waken, dan became aware of an odd _swish-swish, swish-swish_, like a broom dusting lightly over the pavement behind him. the sound drew steadily closer. dan halted abruptly. the sound stopped, too. he walked on. _swish-swish._ he whirled. silence. * * * * * dan listened carefully. the sound could be that of whatever on porcys corresponded to a playful puppy--or to a rattlesnake. he stepped sharply forward. _swish-swish._ it was behind him. he whirled. there was a feeling of innumerable hairy spiders running over him from head to foot. the vague shape of a net formed and vanished in the gloom before him. he lashed out and hit the dark and the fog. _swish-swish._ it was moving away. he stood still while the sound faded to a whisper and was gone. then he started to walk. he was sure that what had just happened meant something, but _what_ it meant was a different question. at least, he thought ruefully, he was wider awake now. he walked on as the sky grew lighter. then the fog shifted to show a solid mass of low blocky buildings across the road ahead. the road itself disappeared into a tunnel under one of the buildings. to one side, a waist-high metal rail closed off the end of one of the city's streets. dan walked off the road toward the rail. his eye was caught by the building ahead. each was exactly the same height, about two to three earth stories high. they were laid out along a geometrically straight border with no transition between city and farmland. there was a faint hum. then a long, low streak, its front end rounded like a horseshoe crab, shot out of the tunnel under the building beside him and vanished along the road where he'd just been walking. now dan saw a small modest sign beside the road. care high-speed vehicles only --_swept_-dan crossed the rail at the end of the street with great caution. the porcyn clothing he was wearing consisted of low leather boots, long green hose, leather shorts, a bright purple blouse and a sky-blue cape. dan bunched the cape in his hand and thrust it ahead of him as he crossed the rail, for some races were finicky about their exits and entrances. the straight, sharp boundary between city and farmland, and the identical buildings, suggested to dan that here was a race controlled by strict rules and forms, and he was making an obviously unauthorized entrance. it was with relief that he stood on the opposite side, within the city. he glanced back at the sign and wondered what "swept" meant. then he gave his attention to the buildings ahead of him. * * * * * low at first, the buildings rose regularly to a greater height, as far as the fog would let him see. dan remembered the storm of the night before and wondered if the progressive heightening of the buildings was designed to break the force of the wind. the buildings themselves were massive, with few and narrow windows, and wide heavy doors opening on the street. dan walked farther into the city and found that the street took right-angle bends at regular intervals, probably also to break the wind. there was no one in sight, and no vehicles. dan decided he was probably in a warehouse district. he paused to look at a partly erected new building, built on the pattern of the rest. then he heard from up the street a grunting, straining sound interspersed with whistling puffs. there was a stamping noise, a _thud_ and the clash of metal. dan ran as quietly as he could up the street, stopped, glanced around one of the right-angle bends. he was sure the sound had come from there. the street was empty. dan walked closer and studied a large brass plate set in the base of a building. it looked about twenty inches high by thirty wide with a rough finish. in the center of the plate was a single word: sweeper dan looked at this for a moment. then, frowning, he strode on. in his mind's eye, he was seeing the sign by the road: care high-speed vehicles only --_swept_-dan couldn't decide whether the word "swept" was part of the warning or just an afterthought. in any case, he had plainly heard a struggle here and now there was nothing to be seen. alert for more brass plates, he wound his way through the streets until he came out on a broad avenue. on the opposite side were a number of tall, many-windowed buildings like apartment houses. on the sidewalks and small lawns in front, crowds of children were playing. they were wearing low boots, leather shorts or skirts, brightly colored blouses and hose, and yellow capes. walking quietly among them was a tawny animal with the look and lordly manner of a lion. it _was_ a lion. as far as the rapidly dispersing fog let him see, the avenue ran straight in one direction. in the other, it ended a block or so away. apparently the crooked, wind-breaking streets were only on the edge of the city. dan thought of the questions kielgaard wanted him to answer: 1, how do the porcyns keep the size of their population down? 2, what is the connection between rejuvenation and vacation planet? 3, do the porcyns have a proper mercantile attitude? are they likely to make an agreement? will they keep one they do make? to find the answers, dan intended to work his way carefully through the city. if nothing went wrong, he should be able to see enough to eliminate most of the possibilities. already he had seen enough to make porcyns look unpromising. the rigid city boundary, the strict uniformity of the buildings and the uniform pattern of the clothing suggested a case-hardened, ingrown way of living. * * * * * across the street, a low door to one side of the apartment building's main entrance came open. the lion walked out. it was carrying a squirming little boy by his bunched-up cape. the big creature flopped down, pinned the struggling boy with a huge paw and methodically started to clean him. the rasp of the animal's tongue could be heard clearly across the street. the boy yelled. a healthy-looking girl of about twelve, wearing a cape diagonally striped in yellow and red, ran over and rescued the boy. the lion rolled over on its back to have its belly scratched. dan scowled and walked toward the near end of the street. on less advanced planets, where the danger of detection was not so great, agents often went in with complex, surgically inserted organo-transmitters in their body cavities. unlike the simple communicator dan had, these were fitted with special taps on the optic and auditory nerves, and the transmitter continuously broadcast all that the agent saw and heard. experts back home went over the data and made their own conclusions. the method was useful, but it had led to some dangerous mistakes. sight and sound got across, but often the atmosphere of the place didn't. dan thought it might be the same here. the feeling that the city gave him didn't match what his reasoning told him. he crossed a street, passed an inscription on a building: freedom devisement fraternity then he was back in a twisting maze of streets. he walked till the wind from the sea blew in his face. the street dipped to a massive wall and the sea, where a few brightly colored, slow-moving trawlers were going out. dan turned in another street and wound back and forth till he came out along the ocean front. on one side of the street was the ocean, a broad strip of sand, and the sea wall. on the other side was a row of small shops, brightly awninged, with displays just being set in place out in front. in the harbor, a ship was being unloaded. flat-bottomed boats were running back and forth from several long wharves. on the street ahead, a number of heavy wagons, drawn by six-legged animals with heads like eels, bumped and rattled toward the wharves. behind them ran a crowd of boys in yellow capes, a big tawny lioness trotting among them. on the sidewalk nearby strode a few powerfully built old men, their capes of various colors. dan glanced at the displays in front of the shops. some were cases of fish on ice. others were piles of odd vegetables in racks. dan paused to look at a stack of things like purple carrots. a man immediately came forward from the rear of the store, wiping his hands on his apron. dan moved on. the next shop had the universal low boots, shorts, skirts, blouses and hose, in assorted sizes and colors, but no capes. dan slowed to glance at the display and saw the proprietor coming briskly from the dark interior, rubbing his hands. dan speeded up and got away before the proprietor came out. the porcyns, he thought, seemed at least to have a proper mercantile attitude. iii dan passed another fish market, then came to a big, brightly polished window. inside was a huge, chromium-plated bar-bell on a purple velvet cloth. behind it were arranged displays of hand-grips, exercise cables, dumb-bells and skipping ropes. the inside of the store was indirectly lighted and expensively simple. the place had an air that was quiet, lavish and discreet. it reminded dan of a well-to-do funeral establishment. in one corner of the window was a small, edge-lighted sign: you never know what the next life will be like. in the other corner of the window was a polished black plate with a dimly glowing bulb in the center. around the bulb were the words: your corrected charge- courtesy of save-your-life co. a tall, heavily muscled man in a dark-blue cape stepped outside. "good morning, devisement," he said affably. "i see you're a stranger in town. i thought i might mention that our birth rate's rather high just now." he coughed deferentially. "you set an example, you know. our main store is on 122 center street, so if you--" he was cut off by a childish scream. down the street, a little boy struggled and thrashed near an oblong hole at the base of a building, caught in a tangle of the mysterious ropes. "a _kid_!" cried the man. he sucked in his breath and shouted, "_dog!_ here, dog! _dog!_" on the end of a wharf, a crowd of children was watching the unloading. from their midst, a lioness burst. "_here_, dog!" shouted the man. "a sweeper! a sweeper! _run_, dog!" the lioness burst into a blur of long bounds, shot down the wharf, sprang into the street and glanced around with glaring yellow eyes. the little boy was partway inside the hole, clinging to the edge with both hands. "doggie," he sobbed. the lioness crouched, sprang into the hole. a crash, a bellow and a thin scream came from within. the lioness reappeared, its eyes glittering and its fur on end. it gripped the little boy by the cape and trotted off, growling. "good _dog_!" cried the man. men in the shops' doorways echoed his shout. "a _kid_," said the man. "they have to learn sometime, i know, but--" he cut himself short. "well, all's well that ends well." he glanced respectfully at dan. "if you're here any length of time, sir, we'd certainly appreciate your looking into this. and if you're planning to stay long--well, as you see, our sweepers are hungry--our main store is on 122 center street. our vacation advisor might be of some service to you." "thank you," said dan, his throat dry. "not at all, devisement." the man went inside, muttering, "a _kid_." dan passed several more shops without seeing very much. he turned the corner. across the street, where the boy had been, was a dented brass plate at the base of the building. on dan's side of the street, trotting toward him, was a big, tawny-maned lion. dan hesitated, then started up the street. there was a faint clash of metal. _swish-swish._ * * * * * a net seemed to form in the air and close around him. there was a feel of innumerable hairy spiders running over him from head to foot. the net vanished. something wrapped around his ankle and yanked. the lion growled. there was a loud _clang_ and dan's foot was free. he looked down and saw a brass plate labeled sweeper. dan decided it might be a good idea to see the save-your-life co.'s vacation advisor. he started out to locate 122 center street and gave all brass plates a wide berth on the way. he strode through a briskly moving crowd of powerfully built men and women in capes of various colors, noticing uneasily that they were making way for him. he studied them as they passed, and saw capes of red, green, dark blue, brown, purple, and other shades and combinations of colors. but the only sky-blue cape he had seen so far was his own. a sign on the corner of a building told dan he was at center street. he crossed and the people continued to draw back for him. it began to dawn on dan that he had had the ultimate bad luck for a spy in an unknown country: he was marked out on sight as some sort of notable. just how bad his luck had been wasn't clear to him till he came to a small grassy square with an iron fence around it and a man-sized statue in the center. the granite base of the statue was inscribed: i devise the statue itself was of bronze, showing a powerful man, his foot crushing down a mass of snapping monsters. in his right hand, he held together a large circle of metal, his fingers squeezing shut a cut in the metal, which would break the circle if he let go. his left hand made a partially open fist, into which a wrench had been fitted. the statue itself, protected by some clear finish from the weather, was plain brown in color. but the statue's cape was enameled sky-blue. dan stared at the statue for a moment, then looked around. in the street beside it, a crowd of people was forming, their backs toward him and their heads raised. dan looked up. far up, near the tops of the buildings, he could make out a long cable stretched from one building to another across the street. just on the other side of the crowd was the entrance to the main store of the save-your-life co. * * * * * dan crossed the street and saw a very average-looking man, wearing an orange cape, come to a stop at the corner and look shrewdly around. dan blinked and looked again. _the man in orange was no porcyn._ the man's glance fell on the statue and his lips twisted in an amused smile. he looked up toward the rope, then down at the crowd, and then studied the backs of the crowd and the fronts of the stores around him, the lids of his eyes half-closed in a calculating look. a brass plate nearby popped open, a net of delicate hairy tendrils ran over him, and something like a length of tarred one-inch rope snaked out and wrapped around his legs. an outraged expression crossed his face. his hand came up. the rope yanked. he fell on the sidewalk. the rope hauled him into the hole. the brass plate snapped shut. from inside came a muffled report. it occurred to dan that galactic was not the only organization interested in porcys. dan looked thoughtfully at the brass plate for a moment, then walked toward the entrance of the save-your-life co., past display windows showing weights, cables, parallel bars, trapezes and giant springs with handles on each end. he tried the door. it didn't move. a clerk immediately opened the door and took dan along a cool, chaste hallway to an office marked "vacation advisor." here a suave-looking man made an offhand remark about the birth rate, took a sudden look at dan's cape, blinked, stiffened, glanced at dan's midsection and relaxed. he went through his files and gave dan a big photograph showing a smiling, healthy, middle-aged couple and a lovely girl about nineteen. "these are the milbuns, sir. mr. milbun is a merchant at present. quite well-to-do, i understand. mrs. milbun is a housewife right now. the daughter, mavis, is with a midtown firm at the moment. the mother became ill at an awkward time. the family put their vacation off for her, and as a result their charge has run very low. if you can get to their apartment without being--ah--swept, i feel sure they will welcome you, sir." he scribbled a rough map on a piece of paper, drew an arrow and wrote "6140 runfast boulevard, apartment 6b," and stamped the paper "courtesy of save-your-life co." then he wished dan a healthy vacation and walked with him to hold open the outer door. dan thanked him and went outside, where the crowd was now almost blocking the sidewalk. he forced his way free, saw someone point, and glanced at the statue. the wrench in the statue's left hand had been replaced by what looked like a magnifying glass. dan had gone a few steps when there was a thundering cheer, then a terrified scream high in the air behind him. he turned around and saw a man come plummeting down. dan gaped higher and saw a line of tiny figures going across high up on the rope. one of the figures slipped. there was another cheer. dan hurriedly turned away. he had already convinced himself that the porcyns had a "proper mercantile attitude." and he thought he was beginning to get an idea as to how they kept their population down. iv carefully avoiding brass plates, dan made his way along an avenue of shops devoted to exercise and physical fitness. he came to runfast blvd. and located 6140, which looked like the apartment houses he had seen earlier. he tried the outer door; it was locked. when someone came out, dan caught the door and stepped in. as the door shut, he tried it and found it was locked again. he stood for a moment trying to understand it, but his sleeplessness of the night before was catching up with him. he gave up and went inside. there were no elevators on the ground floor. dan had his choice of six ropes, two ladders and a circular staircase. he went up the staircase to the third floor, where he saw a single elevator. he rode it up to the sixth, got off and found that there was a bank of four elevators on this floor. he looked at the elevators a minute, felt himself getting dizzy, and walked off to locate apartment 6b. a powerfully built gray-haired man of middle height answered his knock. dan introduced himself and explained why he had come. mr. milbun beamed and his right hand shot forward. dan felt like a man with his hand caught in an airlock. "lerna!" called milbun. "lerna! mavis! we have a guest for vacation!" dan became aware of a rhythmical clinking somewhere in the back of the apartment. then a big, strong-looking woman, obviously fresh from the kitchen, hurried in, smiling. if she had been ill, she was clearly recovered now. "ah, how are you?" she cried. "we're so happy to have you!" she gripped his hand and called, "_mavis!_" the clinking stopped. a beautifully proportioned girl came in, wearing a sweatshirt and shorts. "mother, i simply have to get off another pound or so--oh!" she stared at dan. "mavis," said mr. milbun, "this is mr. dan redman. devisement, my daughter mavis." "you're going with us!" she said happily. "how wonderful!" "now," said mr. milbun, "i imagine his devisement wants to get a little rest before he goes down to the gym." he glanced at dan. "we have a splendid gym here." "oh," said mavis eagerly, "and you can use my weights." "thanks," said dan. "we're leaving tomorrow," milbun told him. "the birth rate's still rising here, and last night the charge correction went up again. a little more and it'll take two of us to get a door open. it won't inconvenience you to leave tomorrow?" "not at all," said dan. "splendid." milbun turned to his wife. "lerna, perhaps our guest would like a little something to eat." * * * * * the food was plain, good and plentiful. afterward, mavis showed dan to his room. he sank down gratefully on a firm, comfortable bed. he closed his eyes.... someone was shaking him gently. "don't you want to go down to the gym?" asked mr. milbun. "remember, we're leaving tomorrow." "of course," said dan. feeling that his brain was functioning in a vacuum, dan followed the milbuns into the hall, climbed down six stories on a ladder, then into the basement on a rope. he found himself in a room with a stony dirt track around the wall, ropes festooning the ceiling, an irregularly shaped pool, and artificial shrubs and foliage from behind which sprang mechanical monsters. the milbuns promptly vanished behind imitation vine-covered doors and came out again in gym clothes. dan went through the doorway mr. milbun had come out of and discovered that the save-your-life co. had a machine inside which dispensed washed, pressed and sterilized gym clothes for a small fee. the machine worked by turning a selector dial to the proper size, pressing a lever, and then depositing the correct fee in an open box on the wall nearby. dan studied this a moment in puzzlement, guessed his proper size and put the correct payment in the box. he put on the gym clothes and went outside. for forty-five minutes, mechanical creatures of odd and various shapes sprang at him from behind shrubbery, gripped him when he passed holes in the floor and wound themselves around his legs as he tried to swim in the pool. his temper worsened. he stopped to look at mavis as she swayed, laughing, on a rope above two things like mobile giant clamshells. mr. milbun shook his head. "mavis, remember, we're leaving _tomorrow_." just then, something snarled and lunged at dan from the side. there was a flash of teeth. dan whirled. his fist shot out. there was a scream of machinery, then a crash and a clatter. an imitation monster with a huge jaw and giant teeth lay on its back on the floor. milbun let out a slow whistle. "_dismounted_ it. boy!" "a one-bite, too," breathed mavis. mrs. milbun came over and looked at dan approvingly. dan had been about to apologize, but checked himself when the others smiled cheerfully and went back to what they were doing. this consisted of dodging, tricking or outrunning the various contraptions that lunged at them, chased them, tripped them, trailed, stalked and sprang out at them from nearly every place in the room. finally the gym began to fill up with other people. the milbuns got ready to leave and dan followed. * * * * * dan lay in his bed that night and tried to summarize the points he didn't understand. first was the question of vacation. but he supposed he would learn about that tomorrow. next was "charge." apparently one went on vacation when his "charge" was low, because the vacation advisor had said, "the family put their vacation off for her, and as a result their charge has run very low." but just what was "charge"? dan remembered the flickering bulb in the store window, ringed by the words "your corrected charge--courtesy of save-your-life co." apparently he had _some_ charge, because the bulb had flickered. but where did he get it? then he thought of the waterfront and of the little boy caught at the hole. what was the point of that? and why did that produce such an uproar when, a little later, a grown man could get dragged out of sight on a well-traveled street and never cause a single notice? dan felt himself sinking into a maze of confusion. he dismissed the problems and went to sleep clinging to one fact. the porcyns _must_ be honest people who would keep an agreement, once made. on what other planet could anyone find a slot machine with no slot, but just an open box for the money? dan fell asleep, content that he had the answer to that part of the problem, at least. before it was light, he awoke to an odd familiar buzz inside his head. "dan," said kielgaard's voice, small and remote. dan rolled over, lay on his back and spoke sub-vocally. "right here." "can you talk?" "yes," said dan, "if i can stay awake." "can you give us a summary?" "sure." dan told him briefly what had happened. kielgaard was silent a moment. then he said, "what do you think 'charge' is?" "i haven't been in any condition to think. maybe it's a surgically implanted battery, set to run down after so long." "too clumsy. what about radioactivity?" "h'm. yes, you mentioned a mine on the inner planet. maybe they mine radioactive ore. that would explain why i have _some_ charge. there's residual radioactivity even in the atmosphere of earth." "that's so," said kielgaard. "but not every planet has it. i'm wondering about this other agent you mentioned seeing. he sounds to me like someone from trans-space. and that's bad." "they play dirty," dan conceded. * * * * * "worse than that," said kielgaard's tiny voice. "they recruit their agents from lassen two. maybe that's a break. unlike earth, lassen two is nearly radiation-free. and trans-space doesn't use finesse. they'll pump porcys full of agents loaded down with organo-transmitters. visual, auditory and olfactory. they'll broadcast on every wave-length, suck out as much information in as short a time as they can, then either pull some dirty trick or slam the porcyns an offer. that is, if everything goes according to plan. "but meanwhile," he added, "one or more of their agents is bound to stand in front of a free 'your charge' device somewhere in the city. very likely, that agent will be radiation-free and some porcyn, for the first time in his life, is going to see a bulb that doesn't even flicker. if the porcyns are as scientifically advanced as we think, and if trans-space is as dirty as usual, there may be a rat-race on before we know it." dan lay gloomily still. "dan," said kielgaard, "where were you standing in relation to the other agent? did he come up from behind or was he in front of you when you reached the statue?" "i was in front of him. why?" "because then you were in his range of vision. _he_ may not have noticed you, but his organo-transmitter would. the chances are you appeared on the screen back at trans-space headquarters. they record those scenes as they come in and their experts go over them frame by frame. unless you happened to be behind someone, they'll see your image on the screen, spot you here and there in other scenes from other agents, study your actions and recognize you as an agent just as surely as you recognized their agent." "yes," said dan wearily, "of course they will." he was thinking that if he had been more awake yesterday, he would have thought of this himself and perhaps avoided it. but he couldn't be alert without sleep and who could sleep in a heaving boat in a thunderstorm? "this changes things," kielgaard was saying. "i'm going to see if we can get a little faster action." "i think i'd better get some more sleep," dan answered. "i may need it tomorrow." "i agree," said kielgaard. "you'll have to keep your eyes open. good night, dan, and good luck." "thanks." dan rolled over on his side. he tried for a moment to remember how the other agent had been standing and whether anyone had been between them to block his view, but he couldn't be sure. dan decided there was nothing to do but assume the worst. he blanked his mind. soon a feeling of deep weariness came over him and he fell asleep. * * * * * in the morning, dan and the milbuns ate a hurried breakfast. dan helped mr. milbun grease his rowing machine, weights, springs and chinning bar, so they wouldn't rust in his absence. milbun worked in a somber mood. all the milbuns, in fact, were unusually quiet for a family going on vacation. when they went out into the hall, carrying no baggage, they even took the elevator to the third floor. "better save our strength," said mr. milbun. the street seemed to dan to have a different atmosphere. people were walking quietly in groups, their eyes cool and alert. the milbuns walked in front of the apartment houses dan had passed the day before, and across the street he saw the place where the chiseled motto had read: freedom devisement fraternity it was gone. some workmen nearby were lifting a stone slab onto a cart. dan blinked. the motto now read: alertness devisement vigilance the milbuns plainly noticed it, too. they drew closer together and looked around thoughtfully. carefully keeping away from brass plates labeled sweeper, they followed a devious route that led to the statue. the statue had changed, too. the hand that gripped the circle was now hidden by a massive shield. the other hand still held what looked like a magnifying glass, and the motto was still "i devise." but the shield gave the whole statue a look of strange menace. across the street, near the place where dan had seen the trans-space agent, stood several men wearing orange capes, barred black across the shoulders. nearby, the brass plate opened and a man in work clothes handed out a box and went back in. at a store entrance up the street, watching them, stood an average-looking man in a purple cape, his look intent and calculating. mavis glanced at the statue and took dan's arm. "devisement," she said, "they won't take you now, will they, before vacation?" dan kept an uneasy silence and mr. milbun said, "of course not, mavis. where's the belt?" mavis glanced at the statue. "oh." dan looked at the statue, then at mavis and mr. milbun, said nothing and went on. they came to a large building with a long flight of broad wide steps. across the face of the building was boldly and sternly lettered, high up: hall of truth lower down was the motto: "speak the truth- live yet a while with us." v on one side of the stairs as they climbed was a statue of a man, smiling. on the other side was an urn with a bunch of carved flowers lying beside it. a big bronze door stood open at the top. they walked through into a large chamber with massive seats in triple rows along two walls, and a single row of yet more massive seats raised along the farther wall. a bored-looking man got up from a low desk as the milbuns sat down in three of the massive seats. the man asked in a dreary voice, "have you, to the best of your knowledge, committed any wrong or illegal act or acts since your last vacation?" he picked up a whiskbroom and pan and waited for their answers. "no," said the three milbuns in earnest quavering voices. the man looked at each of them, shrugged and said boredly, "pass through to your vacations, live law-abiding citizens." he beckoned impatiently to dan, turned to scowl at him, saw dan's cape, stiffened, looked hastily out to the statue framed by the doorway, relaxed slightly and inquired respectfully, "is it time for you to go on vacation, devisement?" "it seems to be," said dan. "i think you should, sir. then you'd be still more helpful if called." dan nodded noncommittally and sat down in one of the massive chairs. his glance fell on an ornamental carving above the big doorway. it was a set of scales held by a giant hand. in one pan of the scales sat a smiling man. in the other was a small heap of ashes. "have you," asked the bored man, "to the best of your knowledge, committed any wrong or illegal act or acts since your last vacation?" he readied the dustpan and whiskbroom. the milbuns watched anxiously at a door in the back of the room. uneasily, dan thought back and remembered no wrong or illegal acts he had committed since his last vacation. "no," he said. the functionary stepped back. "pass through to your vacation, live law-abiding citizen, sir." dan got up and walked toward the milbuns. another bored functionary came in wheeling a cartful of urns. he stopped at a massive chair with a heap of ashes on the seat, a small pile on either arm, and two small piles at the foot. the functionary swept the ashes off and dumped them in the urn. a cold sensation went through dan. he followed the milbuns out into a small room. he felt an out-of-focus sensation and realized the room was a mataform transmitter. an instant later, they were in a spaceship crowded with thoughtful-looking people. * * * * * life on the spaceship seemed to be given over to silent, morose meditation, with an occasional groan that sounded very much like, "oh, give me just one more chance, god." when they left the ship, it was again by mataform, this time to a building where they stood in a line of people. the line wound through a booth where the color of their capes was marked on their foreheads, thence past a counter where they received strong khaki-colored capes, blouses and hose, and new leather shorts and boots to replace those they were wearing. they changed in tiny private rooms, handed their own clothing in at another counter, had a number stamped on their left shoulders and on their boxes of clothing. then they walked out onto a strip of brilliant white sand, fronting on an inlet of sparkling blue water. here and there huddled little crowded knots of people, dancing from one foot to another on the hot sand and yet apparently afraid to go in the water. dan looked to the milbuns for some clue and saw them darting intense calculating glances at the beach and the water. then mr. milbun yelled, "_run for it!_" a slavering sound reached dan's ear. he sprinted after the milbuns, burst through the crowd in a headlong bolt for the cove, then swam as fast as he could to keep up with them as they raced for the opposite shore. they crawled out, strangling and gasping, and dragged themselves up on the sand. dan lay, heaving in deep breaths, then rolled over and sat up. the air around them was split by screams, laced through with sobs, curses and groans. on the shore opposite, a mad dog darted across the crowded beach and emptied people into the cove. in the cove, a glistening black sweep of hide separated the water for an instant, then sank below. people thrashed, fought and went under. dan looked up. on the wooden building beyond the cove and the beach was a broad sign: porcys planet rejuvenation center dan read the sign three times. if this was rejuvenation, the porcyns could have it. beside dan, milbun stood up, still struggling for breath, and pulled his wife and mavis to their feet. "come on," he said. "we've _got_ to get through the swamp ahead of the grayboas!" * * * * * the rest of the day, they pushed through slimy muck up to their knees and sometimes up to their necks. behind them, the crowd screamingly thinned out. that night, they washed in icy spring water, tore chunks of meat from a huge broiled creature turning on a spit and went to sleep in tents to the buzz and drone of creatures that shot their long needle noses through the walls like drillers hunting for oil. the following day, they spent carefully easing from crevice to narrow toehold up the sheer face of a mountain. food and shelter were at the top. jagged rocks and hungry creatures were at the bottom. that night, dan slept right through an urgent buzz from kielgaard. the next night, he woke enough to hear it, but he didn't have the strength to answer. where, he thought, is the rejuvenation in this? then he had a sudden glimmering. it was the porcyn _race_ that was rejuvenated. the unfit of the porcyns died violently. it took stamina just to live from one day to the next. even the milbuns were saying that this was the worst vacation ever. trails slid out from under them. trees fell toward them. boulders bounded down steep slopes at them. at first, the milbuns tried to remember forgotten sins for which all this might be repayment. but when there was the dull _boom_ of an explosion and they narrowly escaped a landslide, milbun looked at the rocks across the trail with sunken red eyes. he sniffed the air and growled, "undevised." that afternoon, dan and the milbuns passed three average-looking men hanging by their hands from the limb of a tree beside the trail. the faces of the hanging men bore a surprised expression. they hung perfectly still and motionless, except for a slight swaying caused by the wind. dan and the milbuns reached a mataform station late that afternoon. a very hard-eyed guard in an orange cape, barred across the shoulders in black, let them through and they found themselves in another spaceship, bound for fumidor, the mining planet. * * * * * dan sat back exhausted and fell asleep. he was awakened by a determined buzz. "_dan!_" said kielgaard's voice. "yes." dan sat up. "go ahead." "trans-space is going to try to take over porcys. there's nothing you can do about that, but they've landed agents on vacation planet to pick you off. look out." dan told kielgaard what had happened to the agents on vacation planet, such as the "undevised" explosion and being hung up by the hands. kielgaard whistled. "maybe the porcyns can take care of themselves. trans-space doesn't think so." "how did you find out?" the tiny voice held a note of grim satisfaction. "they ran an agent in on us and he gave himself away. he went back with an organo-transmitter inside him, and a memory bank. the bank stores up the day's impressions. the transmitter squirts them out in one multi-frequency blast. the agent is poorly placed for an informant, but we've learned a lot through him." "how are they going to take over porcys?" "we don't know. they think they've found the porcyns' weak point, but if so, we don't know what it is." "listen," urged dan, "maybe _we_ ought to put a lot of agents on porcys." "no," said kielgaard. "that's the wrong way to play it. if we go in now, we'll be too late to do any good. we're still counting on you." "there's not very much i can do by myself." "just do your best. that's all we can ask." dan spent the next week chipping out pieces of a radioactive ore. at night, kielgaard would report the jubilant mood of trans-space. on the following days, dan would chop at the ore with vicious blows that jarred him from his wrists to his heels. the steady monotonous work, once he was used to it, left his mind free to think and he tried furiously to plan what he would do when he got out. but he found he didn't really know enough about porcys to make a sensible plan. then he began trying to organize what he had seen and heard during his stay on the planet. at night, kielgaard helped him and together they went over their theories, trying to find those that would fit the facts of porcys. "it all hinges on population pressure," said kielgaard finally. "on most planets we know of, overpopulation leads to war, starvation, birth control or emigration. these are the only ways. at least, they were, till we discovered porcys." * * * * * "all right," agreed dan. "grant that. the porcyns plainly don't have any of those things, or not to any great extent. instead, they have institutions such as we've never seen before. they have 'sweepers,' so-called 'vacations' and a rope from building to building. all these things cut down population." "don't forget their 'truth chairs,'" said kielgaard. "where you either tell the truth or get converted to ashes--yes. but how does it all fit in?" "let's take one individual as an example. start at birth." "he's born," said dan. "probably they have nurseries, but we know they stick together as families, because we have the milbuns to go by. he grows up, living at his parents' place. he goes with other children to school or to see different parts of his city. a lion--which he calls a 'dog'--protects him." "yes," said kielgaard. "it protects him from sweepers. but most grownups don't need protection. only those whose charge is low." "of course. the boy hasn't been on vacation yet. he's not radioactive. apparently you have to be radioactive to open doors. at the apartment house, the boy comes in a small door to one side. the lions, or what resemble lions, like the children but don't like the sweepers. and the sweepers are afraid of them. all right. but what about when he grows up?" "well, for one thing, he has to use the regular doors now. and they won't open unless he's been on vacation. and if he hasn't been on vacation and if his charge isn't high, the sweepers will go out and grab him. that must be what that sign you saw meant. 'swept' was a warning that there was no escape in that direction." "i begin to see it," said dan. "i was safe on that road because the birth rate in that section wasn't high. but in the city, the birth rate _was_ high, so, to keep the population down, the standards were raised. apparently the sweepers were fed less and got more hungry. people had to go on vacation more often. but what about the rope?" * * * * * "i don't think we really know enough to understand the rope," said kielgaard, "but maybe it's a face-saving device. people who don't think they're in good enough shape to get through 'vacation,' and who don't want to die a slow death avoiding sweepers and waiting to go through locked doors, can go across on the rope. or perhaps it's a penance. if a man has done something wrong and he's afraid to deny it in the truth chair, perhaps he's allowed to confess and go so many times across the rope as punishment. the people cheered. that must mean it's honorable." "that makes sense," dan agreed. "all right, but why don't they just ship their surplus population to the other two planets?" "we've studied that back here," said kielgaard. "we think it's because they wouldn't dare. they've got their little mainland allotted and rationed down to the last blade of grass. they can do that because it's small enough to keep control of. now suppose they try to enforce the same system on a new planet with a hundred times the land area--what's going to happen? they'll have unknown, uncontrollable factors to deal with. their system will break down. that statue of theirs shows they know it, too. the man in the blue cape 'devises' and his strong right hand does nothing but keep the circle--their system--from flying apart. what puzzles me is that they're satisfied with it." "there's another point," dan said, "but i think i see it now. they've got a caste system, but people must be able to move from one caste to another. there must be a competitive exam or some system of choice. the vacation advisor said mr. milbun was 'at present' a merchant. his wife was 'now' a housewife. and no one ever asked my name, though i told it voluntarily to milbun. it was always 'yes, devisement,' or 'is it time to take your vacation, devisement?' there were no personal titles like 'sir moglin,' or 'first magistrate moglin,' such as we've encountered on other planets." kielgaard grunted. "that would explain the differently colored capes, too. no one would care if a man was a street-cleaner ten years ago. they'd see his cape was blue and give him immediate, automatic respect." "yes," said dan. "that's it. and no one would dare _cheat_ about the color of the cape he wore, because, regardless of his position, sooner or later his charge would be gone. then he would have to go on vacation. and to do _that_, he _has_ to sit in the truth chair and tell the truth or get incinerated." dan stopped suddenly and sucked in a deep breath. "what's wrong?" asked kielgaard. "_that's_ the weak point." vi by the end of the week, dan was able to pass through a door with a specialized type of geiger counter in the locking circuit. and by that time, kielgaard had noted sharp fluctuations in the mood at trans-space. there had been an interval of wild confusion, but it hadn't lasted. many more trans-space agents had gone to porcys and trans-space seemed to be on top again. the instant dan stepped from the mines through the door marked "out," he was rushed through a shower, a shave and a haircut, shoved into a truth chair and asked questions, given a new cape and clothes, and buckled into a glittering belt by a purple-caped man addressed as "reverence." no sooner was the belt in place than all, including "reverence," snapped to attention. "devisement," said a man in an orange-and-black cape, "we need your decision quickly. at home, men have usurped cloaks of devisement and given orders contrary to the public good. they wore belts of power, but did not die when their false orders were given. in the central city, they convened a council, seated themselves in the hall of truth, and on the very first oath every single one of them present was thrown into the life beyond. "because the statue was already belted, men wearing cloaks of devisement _had_ to give the orders. but now they were all gone. looters roamed the streets, breaking in doors. these men were vacation-dodgers--out so long that they couldn't even make a charge-light flicker--and the sweepers cleaned up some of them. _but they killed the sweepers!_ devisement, i tell you the truth!" "i believe you," said dan. "thank heaven. devisement, something must be done. a young boy passed and graduated to the devisement cape, but before he could take action, he was shot from ambush. we found an old man of the right cape out in the country, and when we finally convinced him, he rounded up one hundred and fifty-seven vacation-dodgers and executed them. we had things in order, but now a glut of lunatics in devisement capes and belts of power have burst into the streets. their orders are silly, yet their belts don't kill them. they have no fear of the truth. business is stopped and men are hungry. the people are going wild. strange boats have appeared offshore. mataform transmitters of odd design are being set up near the shore. this cannot go on without breaking the circle!" dan's throat felt dry. "sir," said the porcyn desperately, "you _must_ devise something! what shall we do?" a faint tingling at dan's waist suggested to him that he choose his words carefully. one lie or bad intention and the belt of power would probably finish him. he thought carefully. the total power of the porcyn planet must be at least the equal of even the huge trans-space organization. and porcys had its power all in one place. the planet was organized to the last ounce of energy, if only it could be brought to bear in time. dan ordered his anxious companions to take him to porcys. * * * * * far under the central city, which was the city he had seen, he found a weary, powerful old man in a light-blue cape and glittering belt, directing operations from a television command post. the console showed street scenes of men in sky-blue capes and flashing belts, who danced and jabbered, their faces aglow with lunacy as they rapped out conflicting orders and the people jerked and dashed this way and that, tears running down their faces. near the statue, before the hall of truth, close ranks of porcyn men in orange-and-black capes stood massed on the steps, holding sleek-bored guns. on the street below, gibbering lunatics in sky-blue danced and shrieked orders, but the eyes of the men on the steps were tightly shut. by a technicality, they avoided obedience to the lunacy, for with their eyes shut, how could they be sure who gave the command? at the belted statue itself, a man in blue was clinging to one bronze arm as he slammed down a hammer to knock loose the partly broken circle. the statue obstinately refused to let go. at the base of the statue, holding a microphone, stood an average-looking man in a sky-blue cape, his lips drawn back in an amused smile. he gestured to men with crowbars and they tried to jam them between the statue and its base. this failing, they took up chisels and hammers. the man working on the circle shrugged and jumped down. at the console, the old man looked up at dan. he put his hand out and felt dan's belt. apparently the tingle reassured him and he seemed to accept dan without further question. "this is about the end," he said. "when that statue goes, those men will feel the jolt and open their eyes. they're the last formed body of troops on the planet, and when they go, we'll have nothing to strike with. there must be something i could devise for this, but i've been up three nights and i can't think." "can you delay it?" asked dan, grappling with the beginning of his plan. "oh, we'll delay it. i've got the last of the sweepers collected at the holes opening into the square. just when that statue begins to tip, i'll let the sweepers out. that will stop things for a while. then they'll kill the sweepers and my bolt is shot." "won't the men you've got here fire on those blue-caped fakes?" "devisement," said the old man, shaking his head, "you know better." "are there any fire hoses? will your men squirt water on the blue-caped ones?" "yes," said the old man, leaning forward. "they'll get shot. but yes, they will. what is it? what are you devising?" * * * * * dan outlined his plan. the old man's eyes lighted. he nodded and dan went out and climbed with guides through a grim, dark tunnel where the sweepers were kept. he peered out the hole, and as across the street the statue began to tip, he burst outside and sprinted into the square. the trans-space leader raised his microphone. dan ripped it out of his hand and knocked him off his feet, then knelt and picked up the heavy shield that had been taken off the statue to get at the ring. a bullet hummed over dan's head. with a rush of air and a heavy smash, the statue landed full length on the ground. dan hauled himself up onto its base. another bullet buzzed past him. then there was a yell, and dan looked down in the street. the sweepers were horrible as they poured from their holes, but they looked almost beautiful to dan. he glanced at the porcyns massed on the steps, their faces white with near-hysteria. their eyes were open and watching him; the trans-space men were too busy to give orders. dan raised the microphone and his voice boomed out: "_close your eyes till you hear the roar of the lion! then obey your true leaders!_" he repeated the order three times before it dawned on the trans-space technicians that this was not according to plan. the loudspeaker gave a booming click and cut off. by then, the sweepers had been killed and dan became aware of bullets thrumming past him. suddenly he felt weak with panic that the rest of the plan had fallen apart. up the street, porcyn men were unscrewing a cap on the face of a building. they connected a hose. a sky-blue-caped trans-space agent ordered them away. the porcyns turned, wads of wax in their ears, and raised the hose. a stream of water knocked the agents backward. shots rang out. porcyns fell, but other porcyns took their places. the stream arched and fell on the trans-space agents and abruptly a whirl of color tinged the water. blots and blobs of green, orange, pink and yellow spattered the blue-caped agents. at the end of the street, someone ran up tugging a lion by the mane. "_go_, dog! _run!_" somewhere a child cried out in terror. the lion roared. the troops on the steps opened their eyes. an old man's voice, amplified, spoke out with icy authority: "_deploy for street-fighting! first rank, move out along center street toward north viaduct. rifles at full charge. wide intervals. use every scrap of cover. shoot the false-belted usurpers on sight._ "_second rank, move out along west ocean avenue toward the sea wall...._" shots rang out. there was a faint thrumming hum, like wires in the wind, and streaks of cherry radiance criss-crossed in the air. the lion roared, unable to find the child. the roars of other lions joined in. dan was aware that he was lying atop the hard base of the statue, but he didn't know how he had come to be there. he tried to stand up. he heard voices screaming orders, then falling still, and a scene swung into his line of sight like something watched through the rear-view mirror of a turning groundcar. half a dozen men, guns in their hands, their bodies and blue capes spattered and smeared till they could hardly be recognized, lay motionless on the pavement then the scene swung up and away, and dan felt weightless. something hit him hard. his head bounced and he rolled over. soft grass was in his face. it smelled fresh. there was a dull boom that moved the ground under him. he twisted his head to look up. a massive arm was stretched out over him, its hand firmly gripping the cut edges of a big metal ring. somewhere a drum took up a steady monotonous beat. he fell into a deep black quiet and all the sights and sounds grew smaller and fainter and disappeared entirely. * * * * * he awoke in a porcyn hospital. kielgaard was there, wearing a broad grin and brilliant porcyn clothes and promising dan a huge bonus. but it was all like a dream. kielgaard said the porcyns were as mad as hornets. they had raised a battle fleet and it had taken a corps of diplomats and the combined intergalactic space fleet to argue them out of personally chopping trans-space into fine bits. no one knew what would finally happen, but meanwhile galactic had its contract and everyone was tentatively happy. his account finished, kielgaard grinned more broadly yet and switched on a bedside televiewer. dan lifted his head off the pillow and looked at the screen. then he stared. it was the statue, solid once more on its base, the ring grasped firmly in one hand and a big wrench in the other. but something seemed different. dan at last saw what it was. it was the face. it wasn't a bad face, if one expected to see strong cheekbones, copper skin and a high-arched nose. "what a compliment!" he said, embarrassedly pleased. "i--hell, i feel like blushing." "make it a good one," said kielgaard. "after tomorrow, you'll have to blush with your own face again." "_tomorrow?_" "sure. you're still working for us, remember." dan sank back on the pillow and gazed up speculatively at the ceiling. "all right, but i want some time off. i have a fat bonus to spend." "you could use a holiday," kielgaard agreed. "why not try the andromedan cloud gardens? pretty expensive, but with your bonus--" "i've got a place picked out," said dan. "i'm going to take a vacation on porcys." kielgaard started. "you're joking! or you've gone twitchy!" "no. before i have to give this face back to surgery, i ought to get a _little_ enjoyment out of it. and what could be more enjoyable than hanging around the statue, letting people see the resemblance? besides, they can't make me take my vacation on the vacation planet--i've already had it." california 1849-1913 or the rambling sketches and experiences of sixty-four years' residence in that state by l. h. woolley member of the society of california pioneers and of the vigilance committee of 1856 california 1849-1913 trip across the plains. the year 1849 has a peculiarly thrilling sensation to the california pioneer, not realized by those who came at a later date. my purpose in recording some of my recollections of early days is not for publication nor aggrandizement, but that it may be deposited in the archives of my descendants, that i was one of those adventurers who left the green mountains of vermont to cross the plains to california, the el dorado--the land of gold. in starting out i went to boston, new york, philadelphia, cincinnati, st. louis and independence, missouri. here i joined the first mule train of turner, allen & co.'s pioneer line. it consisted of forty wagons, one hundred and fifty mules, and about one hundred and fifty passengers. we left the frontier on the fourteenth of may 1849, and here is where our hardships commenced. many of us had never known what it was to "camp out" and do our own cooking. some of the mules were wild and unbroken, sometimes inside the traces, sometimes outside; sometimes down, sometimes up; sometimes one end forward and sometimes the other; but after a week or two they got sobered down so as to do very well. our first campfire at night was on the little blue river, a few miles from independence; it was after dark when we came to a halt, and it was my friend gross' turn to cook, while the rest brought him wood and water and made a fire for him by the side of a large stump. i knew he was a fractious man, so i climbed into one of the wagons where i could see how he got along. the first thing that attracted my attention was the coffee pot upside down, next away went the bacon out of the pan into the fire. by this time he was getting warm inside as well as outside, and i could hear some small "cuss words"; next he looked into the dutch oven, and saw that his dough had turned to charcoal. i got down into the wagon out of sight, and peeked through a crack; he grew furious, danced around the fire, and the air was full of big words. finally we got a little coffee and some cakes and bacon, then i undertook to do a little sleeping but it was no go. thus ended my first night on the plains. in the morning we started on our journey to travel over a level untimbered, uninhabited country for nearly four hundred miles, without anything of especial interest occurring save cholera, from which there was terrible suffering. we lost about seventy-five of our number before we reached fort laramie, seven hundred miles from missouri. there was a dutchman in my mess by the name of lamalfa, who understood but little of english. we had dubbed him "macaroni" for having brought a lot of the stuff with him and on our second night out it came his turn to stand guard. he was detailed to the inner guard and instructed as to his duties. on the relief of the outer sentinel and his return to camp, lamalfa issued the challenge which was to repeat three times "who comes there?" and in case of no response to fire, and as the outer sentinel came upon him he called out "who comes there three times" and fired; fortunately he was a poor shot and no harm was done. it seems that "macaroni" was not aware of there being an outer guard. when near fort childs, four hundred miles out, all the passengers left the wagons, except the drivers, and walked on in advance, leaving the wagons light (they were canvas covered). there came up one of those terrible hailstorms, common in that country, which pelted the mules with such severity as to cause them to take fright and run away, breaking loose from the wagons which were taken by the storm in another direction, first wheels up, then top, until the latter was all in rags; then they stopped. when we came into camp at night they looked sorry enough and you would have thought they had just come out of a fierce fight. we pursued our journey along the south bank of the platte until we reached fort laramie, capturing some antelopes and occasionally a buffalo. up to this time we had had a great deal of sickness in camp. i remember one poor fellow (his name i have forgotten), we called him chihuahua bob; he was a jovial, good natured fellow and drove one of the eight-mule baggage wagons. i enquired about him one morning and was told that he had died during the night of cholera, and had been left in his shallow grave. we met some returning emigrants that morning who had become discouraged and were going back to their old homes this made me think of home and friends, the domestic happy fireside, and all that i had left behind, "but," said i to myself, "this won't do, i am too far out now; pluck is the word and i'm not going back on it." early next morning we were once more upon our long journey, slowly traveling towards the far, far west. the first place of interest that presented itself to our view was a narrow passage for the river between two perpendicular rocky banks, which were about one hundred feet high and looked as though a man could jump from one to the other at the top. this was called the "devil's gate." above and below was the broad prairie. at intervals along the platte were villages of prairie dogs, who were about the size of large grey squirrels, but more chunky' of a brownish hue, with a head somewhat resembling a bulldog. they are sometimes eaten by the indians and mountaineers. their earth houses are all about two feet deep; are made in the form of a cone; are entered by a hole in the top, which descends vertically some two or more feet and then takes an oblique course, and connects with others in every direction. these towns or villages sometimes cover several hundred acres and it is very dangerous riding over them on horseback. we will now pass to another interesting object called "chimney rock" which is not altogether unlike bunker hill monument. it stands by itself on the surrounding level country, with a conical base of about one hundred and fifty feet in diameter and seventy-five feet high where the nearly square part of the column commences, which is about fifty feet on each of the four sides. it is of sandstone and certainly a very singular natural formation. altogether it is about two hundred feet high. i will mention here that the banks of the platte are low, that the bed is of quicksand, that the river is very shallow and that it is never clear. one of our company attempted to ford it on foot. when about two-thirds over, in water up to his waist, he halted, being in doubt as to whether he should proceed or return. while hesitating between two opinions his feet had worked down into the quicksand and became so imbedded that he could not extricate them. realizing his perilous position he at once gave the masonic grand hailing sign of distress and in a moment there were several men in the water on their way to his relief. they reached him in time and brought him safely into camp. about this time there was considerable dissatisfaction manifested in camp on account of the slow progress we were making. some left the train and went on by themselves, others realized the necessity of holding to together to the last in order to protect themselves as well as to care for those among us who were sick. the peculiar characteristics of the party at this time seemed to be recklessness and indifference to the situation, but the better judgment finally prevailed and we went on in harmony. the next three hundred miles were devoid of any especial interest. this brings us to the summit of the rocky mountains (at south pass) which divides the rivers of the atlantic and pacific oceans, and ends their course thousands of miles apart. here are the ever snow-capped peaks of the wind river mountains looming up on the north. they are conical in form and their base is about one thousand feet above the plain that extends south. this brings us to the nineteenth day of july, 1849. on the night of this day water froze to the thickness of one-fourth of an inch in our buckets. the following day we commenced descending the western slope, which was very rapid and rough. the twenty-first brought us to green river which was swollen and appeared to be a great barrier. here, for the first time, we brought our pontoons into use and swam the mules, so that after two days of hard work we were all safely landed on the west bank. we are now at the base of the rocky mountains on the west, passing from one small valley to another, until we reached a bend in the bear river. here let us pause for a moment and study the wonders of nature. first, the ground all around is covered with sulphur; here, a spring of cold soda water; there, a spring of hot soda water; fourth, an oblong hole about four by six inches in the rocky bank, from which spouts hot soda water, like the spouting of a whale. it is called "steamboat spring." it recedes and spouts about once in two minutes. all of these are within a hundred steps of each other. now, our canteens, and every available vessel is to be filled with water, for use in crossing forty-five miles of lava bed, where there is neither water nor grass to be found and must be accomplished by traveling day and night. this was called "subletts' cutoff," leaving salt lake to the south of us, and brings us to the base of the mountains at the source of the humboldt river. on the west side, in crossing over, we encountered a place in a gorge of the mountain called "slippery ford," now called the "devil's half-acre." it was a smooth inclined surface of the rock and it was impossible for the mules to keep their footing. we had great difficulty in getting over it. now we are at the headwaters of the humboldt river, along which we traveled for three hundred miles, over an alkali and sandy soil until we came to a place where it disappeared. this was called the "sink of the humboldt." this valley is twenty miles wide by about three hundred long. during this part of our journey there was nothing of interest to note. the water of this river is strongly impregnated with alkali. about forty miles in a southerly direction from the sink of the humboldt (now called the lake) is old "ragtown" on the banks of the carson river, not far from fort churchill. in traveling from one river to the other there was no water for man or beast. when we were about half way we found a well that was as salt as the ocean. we reached this well sometime in the night of the first day and our mules were completely fagged out, so we left the wagons, turned the mules loose, and drove them through to the carson, arriving there on the night of the second day. here was good grass and fine water, and bathing was appreciated to its fullest extent. we remained for several days to let our animals recruit, as well as ourselves, then we went back and got the wagons. we traveled westward through carson valley until we entered the six mile canon, the roughest piece of road that we found between missouri and california. there were great boulders from the size of a barrel to that of a stage coach, promiscuously piled in the bed of this tributary to the carson, and over which we were obliged to haul our wagons. it took us two days to make the six miles. arrival in california. now we see silver lake, at the base of the sierra nevadas on the east side; our advance to the summit was not as difficult as we anticipated. having arrived at this point we are at the source of the south fork of the american river and at the summit of the sierra nevadas. we now commenced the descent on a tributary of this river. after a day or two of travel we arrived at a place called weaverville, on the tenth day of september, 1849. this place consisted of one log cabin with numerous tents on either side. here was my first mining, but being weary and worn out, i was unable to wield the pick and shovel, and so i left in a few days for sacramento where i undertook to make a little money by painting, but it was a failure, both as to workmanship and as to financial gain. however, by this time i had gained some strength and left for beal's bar at the junction of the north and south forks of the american river. here i mined through the winter with some success. in the spring of 1850 thirty of us formed a company for the purpose of turning the south fork through a canal into the north fork, thereby draining about a thousand yards of the river bed. just as we had completed the dam and turned the water into the canal, the river rose and away went our dam and our summer's work with it. winter coming on now nothing could be done until spring, so i left for san francisco where i had heard of the death of a friend at burns' old diggings on the merced river, about seventy-five miles from stockton, and knowing that his life was insured in favor of his wife i went there and secured the necessary proof of his death so that his widow got the insurance. there was considerable hardship in this little trip of about one week. on my return, and when within about thirty miles of stockton, i camped for the night at knight's ferry, picketed my pony out, obtained the privilege of spreading my blankets on the ground in a tent and was soon in a sound sleep, out of which i was awakened at about two o'clock in the morning by feeling things considerably damp around me (for it had been raining). i put out my hand and found i was lying in about three inches of water. i was not long getting out of it, rolled up my blankets, saddled my pony and left for stockton. here i arrived at about nine o'clock, sold the pony, and was ready to leave at four o'clock for san francisco. while waiting here (stockton) i became acquainted with a kentucky hunter who told me the story of his experiences of the day previous. he said: "i came to the place where you stayed last night, yesterday morning, and was told that there were a number of bears in the neighborhood, and that no one dared to hunt them. i remarked that that was my business, and i would take a hand at it; i strapped on my revolvers and knife, shouldered my kentucky rifle and started out. i had not gone more than half a mile, when i discovered one of the animals i was in search of, and away my bullet sped striking him in the hip. i made for a tree and he made for me! i won the race by stopping on the topmost branch, while he howled at the base; while reloading my rifle i heard an answer to his wailing for me or for his companion--it didn't matter which. very soon a second cry came from another direction, and still one more from the third point of the compass. by this time one had reached the tree and i fired killing him. hastily reloading, i was just in time to fire as the second one responded to the first one's howl; he fell dead; then the third arrived and shared the same fate. having allowed the first one to live as a decoy, his turn came last; then i descended and looked over my work--four full-grown bears lay dead at my feet." to corroborate this statement i will say that i saw one of them on the hooks in front of a butcher shop in stockton, and the other three went to san francisco on the same boat that i did. i met the hunter on the street about a week later and he told me that he realized seven hundred dollars for his bears. i do not make the statement as a bear story, but as a bare fact. life in the mines. the preceding pages were written about twenty years ago, and only covered about one and one-half years after leaving the green mountains of old vermont. since which time, i have experienced nearly all of the vicissitudes of the state to the present time (1913). i will now attempt to give an account of my stewardship from that time on. i date my arrival in the state, weaverville, about three miles below hangtown (now placerville), september 10th, 1849. this was where i did my first mining, which was not, much of a success, on account of my weak condition caused by my having the so-called "land scurvy," brought on from a want of vegetable food, and i left for sacramento city where i remained for a week or two and then left and went to grass valley. there i made a little money, and went to sacramento city and bought two wagon loads of goods, went back to grass valley and started a hotel, ran it a few weeks, and the first thing i knew i was "busted." it is now in the winter of '49 and '50 and i went to sacramento again, and from sacramento to beal's bar on the north fork of the american river at the junction of the north and south forks. by this time i had gained my strength so that i was more like myself, and i bought a rocker, pick, shovel and pan and went into the gulches for gold. i had fairly good luck until spring. by this time i had laid by a few hundred dollars, and i joined a company of thirty to turn the south fork of the american river into the north fork, by so doing we expected to drain about one-fourth of a mile of the bed of the south fork. the banks of the river were rich and everything went to show that the bed of the river was very rich, and we went to work with great hopes of a big harvest of gold. the first thing we did was to build a dam, and dig a canal, which we accomplished in about four months. about this time snow and rain came on in the mountains, raised the water in the river and washed away part of our dam. it was now too late to build again that season. now you see the hopes and disappointments of the miner. while we were at work on the canal we had occasion to blast some boulders that were in our way. we had a blacksmith to sharpen the picks and drills who had a portable forge on the point of land between the two rivers. when we were ready to blast the rock we gave him timely warning, he paid no heed, the blast went off, and a portion of a boulder weighing about 500 pounds went directly for his forge and within about six inches of his legs and went on over into the north fork. the man turned about and hollered to the boys in the canal "i surrender." about this time the river had risen to such an extent that it was thought advisable to suspend operations until the next spring. this was a dividing of the roads, and each member had to look out for himself. i went to mokelumne hill, staked out some claims and went to work to sink a shaft through the lava to bedrock. the lava on the surface is very hard, but grows softer as you go down. while i was thus banging away with my pick and not making much headway, there came along a mr. ferguson from san francisco, on a mule. he stopped and looked at me a minute and then said, "young man, how deep do you expect to go before you reach bedrock?" i said, "about 65 or 75 feet." "well," said he, "by ---you have got more pluck than any man i ever saw." he went on and so did i, and i have not seen him since. it took me about two weeks to get so that i could not throw the dirt to the surface, then i had to make a windlass, get a tub and rope, and hire a man to help me at eight dollars a day, and 50 cents a point for sharpening picks. these things completed and in operation, i was able to make two or three feet per day, and we finally reached the bedrock at a depth of 97 feet. the last two feet in the bottom of the shaft i saved for washing, and had to haul it about one mile to water. i washed it out and realized 3 1/2 ounces of very coarse gold. now we were on the bedrock and the next thing to do was to start three drifts in as many directions. this called for two more men to work the drifts, and a man with his team to haul the dirt to the water, while i stood at the windless and watched both ends. this went on for one week. when i washed out my dirt, paid off my help and other expenses, i had two dollars and a half for myself. about this time i was feeling a little blue and i gave directions for each man in the drifts to start drifts to the left at the end of each drift. this was done, and we went on for another week as before, and this time i came out about one hundred dollars ahead. about this time a couple of miners came along and offered me thirteen hundred dollars for my claim, and i sold it, took the dust and went to sacramento and sent it to my father in vermont. that paid up for all the money that i had borrowed, and made things quite easy at home. now, i am mining again with cradle, pick, shovel and pan in gulches, on the flats, in the river and on the banks, with miner's luck, up and down, most of the time down. however, "pluck" was always the watchword with me. i floated some of the time in water, some of the time in the air, some of the time on dry land, it did not make much difference with me at that time where i was. i was at home wherever night overtook me. but finally i got tired of that and began to look about and think of home and "the girl i left behind me." home again. married. return to california. in the spring of '52 i left san francisco on the steamer "independence" via the "nicaragua route" for new york, arrived there in course of a month, and took train for boston, where i found my father from vermont with a carload of horses. this was clover for me. we remained there a week or ten days, then left for home. the "girl i left behind" was a vermont lady but was visiting a sister in cincinnati, ohio. in the spring of 1853 i went on to ohio to see the "girl i left behind me," and married the "girl i had left behind me." we then went to vermont, where we remained until the year of 1854. in the summer of this year i had the second attack of the "california fever." i called in dr. hichman and he diagnosed my case, and pronounced it fatal, and said there was no medicine known to science that would help me, that i must go, so i took the "girl i left behind me" and started for san francisco. vigilance committee of 1865. on my return to san francisco it did not take me long to discover that the city was wide open to all sorts of crime from murder, to petty theft. in a very short time i became interested in the pacific iron works, and paid very little attention to what else was going on around me until the spring of '56. here was a poise of the scales, corruption and murder on one side, with honesty and good government on the other. which shall be the balance of power, the first or the last? on may 14th, 1856, james king, editor of the "evening bulletin," was shot by jas. p. casey on the corner of washington and montgomery streets. he lingered along for a few days and died. this was too much for the people and proved the entering wedge for a second vigilance committee. during the first 36 hours after the shooting there were 2,600 names enrolled on the committee's books. of that number, i am proud to say, i was the 96th member, and the membership increased until it amounted to over 7,000. shooting of gen. richardson. i will first relate a crime that had happened the november previous (november 17, 1855), in which charles cora had shot and killed general william h. richardson, united states marshal for the northern district of california. these men had a quarrel on the evening of november 17th, 1855, between 6 and 7 o'clock, which resulted in the death of general richardson by being shot dead on the spot in front of fox & o'connor's store on clay street, between montgomery and leidesdorff streets, by cora. shortly after this cora was arrested and placed in custody of the city marshal. there was talk of lynching, but no resort was had to violence. mr. samuel brannan delivered an exciting speech, and resolutions were declared to have the law enforced in this trial. general richardson was a brave and honorable man, and beloved by all. he was about 33 years of age, a native of washington, d. c., and married. cora was confined in the county jail. we will now leave this case in the mind of the reader and take it up later on. shooting of james king, of william. on may 14th, 1856, the city was thrown into a great excitement by an attempt to assassinate james king, of william, editor of the "evening bulletin," by james p. casey, editor of the "sunday times." both casey and king indulged in editorials of a nature that caused much personal enmity, and in one of the issues of the "bulletin" king reproduced articles from the new york papers showing casey up as having once been sentenced to sing sing. casey took offense at the articles, and about 5 o'clock in the afternoon, at the corner of montgomery and washington streets, intercepted king who was on his way home, drew a revolver, saying, "draw and defend yourself," and shot him through the left breast near the armpit. mr. king exclaimed, "i am shot," and reeling, was caught up and carried to the pacific express office on the corner casey was quickly locked up in the station house[1]. immediately following the shooting large crowds filled the streets in the neighborhood anxious to hang to the nearest lamp post the perpetrator of the crime. casey was immediately removed to the county jail for safer keeping. here crowds again congregated, demanding the turning over to them of casey and threatening violence if denied. mayor van ness and others addressed them in efforts to let the law take its course but the crowd which had been swelled into a seething mass, remonstrated, citing the shooting of marshal richardson, and demanding cora, his assassin, that he, too, might be hanged. military aid was called to the defense of the jail and its prisoners and after a while the multitude dispersed, leaving all quiet. casey and cora turned over to vigilance committee. sunday, may 18th, a deputation of the committee was delegated to call at the door of the jail and request the sheriff to deliver up the prisoner, casey. upon arriving at the door three raps were made. sheriff scannell appeared. the delegation desired him to handcuff the prisoner and deliver him at the door. without hesitation, the sheriff repaired to the cell of casey and informed him of the request of the vigilantes. the sheriff, after going through some preliminaries, brought the prisoner to the front door of the jail and delivered him into the hands of the committee. my company was stationed directly across the street lined up on the sidewalk. immediately in front of us was a small brass cannon, which a detachment had shortly before secured from the store of macondray & co. it was the field piece of the first california guard. it was loaded, and alongside was the lighted match, and all was in readiness should any resistance be offered. other companies were stationed so as to command the entire surroundings. we marched from the general headquarters of the committee at 41 sacramento street (fort gunnybags), one block from the water front, up that street to montgomery, thence to pacific and along kearny to the jail, which was situated on the north side of broadway, between kearny and dupont streets. other companies came via stockton and dupont streets[2]. casey was then ironed and escorted to a coach in waiting and, at his request, mr. north took a seat beside him; wm. t. coleman and miers f. truett also riding in the same conveyance. another conference was held with the sheriff, requesting the prisoner, charles cora, who had murdered general richardson, to be turned over to the committee. scannell declined and asked time to consider. the committee gave the sheriff one hour in which to decide. in less than half that time the sheriff appeared at the door of the jail and turned cora over to the committee. the committee reached the rooms on sacramento street about 2 o'clock. casey was placed under guard in a room above headquarters. cora was also removed to the committee's rooms in the same manner as casey, the committee having to go back to the jail for the second time. about three hundred men remained on guard at the committee rooms after their removal there. fort gunnybags. our headquarters and committee rooms were at the wholesale liquor house of truett & jones, no. 41 sacramento street, about a block from the water front, and embraced the block bounded by sacramento, california, front and davis streets, and covered by brick buildings two stories high. the name "fort gunnybags" was ascribed to it on account of the gunnybags filled with sand which we piled up in a wall some six feet through and about ten feet high. this barricade was about twenty feet from the building. guards were stationed at the passageways through it as well as at the stairs and committee by the members of the monumental fire engine company no. 6, stationed on the west side of brenham place, opposite the "plaza." our small field pieces and arms were kept on the ground floor, and the cells, executive chamber and other departments were on the second floor. may 19th found mr. king still suffering from his wound, but no great alarm was felt as to his condition. death of james king, of william. may 20th mr. king's condition took a turn for the worse, and at 12 o'clock he was sinking rapidly, being weakened from the probing and dressing of the wound. he passed away. sorrow and grief were shown by all. he left a widow and six children. he was born in georgetown, d. c., and was only 34 years old. trial of casey and cora. casey and cora were held for trial may 20th, having been supplied with attorneys and given every opportunity to plead their cases. the committee sat all night and took no recess until the next morning when the trials were ended. the verdict of "guilty of murder" was found in each case and they were ordered to be executed friday, may 23rd, at 12 o'clock noon. while the trial was going on mr. king passed away[3]. hanging of casey and cora. the committee, for fear that an attempt might be made to rescue casey and cora, arranged their companies, which numbered three thousand men and two field pieces, cleared the streets in the immediate vicinity and had had constructed a platform from out of the two front windows. these platforms were hinged, the outer ends being held up by cords which were fastened to a projecting beam of the roof, to which a rope had been adjusted for the purpose of hanging. arabella ryan or belle cora was united in marriage to charles cora just before the execution. about one o'clock both casey and cora, who had their arms tied behind them, were brought to the platform and with firm steps stepped out upon them. casey addressed a few remarks, declaring that he was no murderer, and weakened at the thought of his dear old mother. he almost fainted as the noose was placed around his neck. cora, to the contrary, said nothing, and stood unmoved while casey was talking, and apparently unconcerned. the signal was given at twenty minutes past one o'clock and the cord cut, letting the bodies drop six feet. they hung for fifty-five minutes and were cut down and turned over to the coroner. we, the rank and file of the vigilance committee, were immediately afterwards drawn up in a line on sacramento street, reviewed and dismissed after stacking our arms in the committee room, taking up our pursuits again as private citizens[4]. yankee sullivan. james (or yankee) sullivan, whose real name was francis murray, had been taken by the vigilance committee and was then (may 20th, 1856), in confinement in the rooms of the committee. he was very pugilistic and had taken an active part in ballot-box frauds in the several elections just previous. he had been promised leniency by the committee and assured a safe exit from the country, but he was fearful of being murdered by the others to be exiled at the same time. he experienced a horrible dream, going through the formality and execution of hanging. he called for a glass of water, which was given him by the guard, who at the same time endeavored to cheer him up, and when breakfast was taken him at 8 o'clock that morning he was found dead in his bed, he having made an incision with a common table knife in his left arm near the elbow, cutting to the bone and severing two large arteries[5]. "law and order" party. on the 2nd of june, 1856, governor j. neely johnson having declared the city of san francisco to be in a state of insurrection, issued orders to wm. t. sherman to enroll as militia, companies of 150 men of the highest standard and to have them report to him, sherman, for duty. the response was light and the order looked upon as a joke and little or no stock taken in it. so on the 7th sherman tendered his resignation as major general, claiming that no plan of action could be determined upon between himself and the governor. the action taken by the governor in this move was by virtue of the constitution of the state, his duty to enforce the execution of the laws, he claiming that the vigilance committee had no right to arm and act without respect to the state laws. terry and hopkins affair. on the 2nd of june, 1856, the city was in great excitement at an attempt by david s. terry to stab sterling a. hopkins, a member of the committee. terry was one of the judges of the supreme court. hopkins and a posse were arresting one rube maloney when set upon by terry. hopkins was taken to engine house no. 12 where dr. r. beverley cole examined and cared for his wound which was four inches deep and caused considerable hemorrhage. the blade struck hopkins near the collar bone and severed parts of the left carotid artery and penetrated the gullet. terry and maloney at once fled to the armory of the "law and order party" on the corner of jackson and dupont streets. the alarm was at once sounded on the bell at fort gunnybags and in less than fifteen minutes armed details were dispatched to and surrounded the headquarters of the "law and order party" where terry had taken refuge, and in less than half an hour had complete control of the situation, and by 4:15 o'clock in the afternoon terry and maloney and the others found there had been taken to the committee rooms as well as the arms (a stand of 300, muskets) and ammunition. about 150 "law and order" men together with about 250 muskets were also taken from the california exchange. several other places were raided and stripped of their stands of arms. terry was held by the vigilance committee until august 7th and charged with attempt to murder. mr. hopkins recovered and terry, after a fair and impartial trial, was discharged from custody, though many were dissatisfied at his dismissal and claimed that he should have been held. terry was requested to resign and resigned his position as judge of the supreme court. duel between terry and broderick. in 1859 judge terry had an altercation with united states senator daniel c. broderick which caused the former to challenge the latter to a duel. this duel which was with pistols was fought september 13, 1859, near lake merced, near the present site of the ocean house. it resulted in broderick's death, whose last words were, "they killed me because i was opposed to a corrupt administration, and the extension of slavery." terry was indicted for his duel with broderick, as it came in conflict with the state laws. the case was transferred to another county, marin, and there dismissed. during the civil war terry joined the confederate forces, attained the rank of brigadier-general, and was wounded at the battle of chickamauga. at the close of the conflict he repaired to california and in 1869 located at stockton and resumed the practice of the legal profession. some years later he became advocate for a lady who was one of the principals in a noted divorce suit. subsequently she became his wife. legal contention arising from the first marriage caused her to appear before the circuit court held in oakland, over which stephen j. field, associate justice of the united states supreme court, presided. terry and field, shooting of terry. in open court the justice proceeded to read the decision. as he continued, the tenor was manifestly unfavorable to mrs. terry. she suddenly arose and interrupted the reading by violently upbraiding field. he ordered her removal from the judicial chamber. she resisted, and terry coming to his wife's assistance, drew a knife and assaulted the bailiffs. he was disarmed, and together with his wife, overpowered and secured. the court of three judges sentenced mrs. terry to one month, and her husband to six months imprisonment, which they served in full. justice field returned to washington, and the next year in fulfillment of his official requirements came again to california. he had been informed that terry uttered threats of violence against his person, and therefore he was accompanied by a man employed by the government to act in the capacity of body-guard. on the journey from los angeles to san francisco, field and his companion, with other passengers, left the train to lunch at lathrop. terry and his wife, who had boarded the cars en route, also left the cars and shortly afterwards entered the same restaurant. a few minutes later terry arose from his seat, walked directly back of field and slapped or struck the venerable justice on the face, while he was seated. nagle, the guard who attended field, leaped to his feet and shot terry twice. terry fell and died instantly. this event occurred on the 15th day of august, 1889, not quite thirty years from the time he shot broderick. hetherington and randall. on the evening of july 24, 1856, the vigilance committee had another case on their hands which called for immediate action. joseph hetherington, a well-known desperate character with a previous record, picked a quarrel with dr. randal in the lobby of the nicholas hotel. they both drew their revolvers and shot: after the second report the doctor dropped and hetherington, stooping, shot again, striking the prostrate form in the head, rendering the victim almost unconscious. he died the next morning. the shooting was brought about through randal's inability to repay money borrowed from hetherington on a mortgage on real estate. hetherington, who was captured by the police, had been turned over to the committee by whom he was tried, the committee going into session immediately after the shooting, found him guilty of murder and sentenced him to be hanged. we were again called out on the 29th and were stationed so as to command the situation. this time a gallows was erected on davis street, between sacramento and commercial. another man, philander brace by name, was also to be hanged at the same time, and at about 5:30 in the afternoon of july 29th they were both conveyed in carriages, strongly guarded, to the execution grounds. hetherington had previously proclaimed his innocence, claiming that the doctor had shot first and he had simply shot in self-defense, but his previous record was bad, he having killed a doctor baldwin in 1853 and had run a gambling joint on long wharf, and eye witnesses claimed that he not only provoked but shot first. brace was of a different nature, he was a hardened criminal of a low type. the charge against him being the killing of captain j. b. west about a year previous, out in the mission, and of murdering his accomplice. he had also confessed to numerous other crimes. hanging of hetherington and brace. thousands of people were on the house-tops and in windows and on every available spot from which a view of the gallows was to be had. the prisoners mounted the scaffold, being accompanied by three vigilance committee officers who acted as executioners and a rev. mr. thomas. after the noose had been adjusted, hetherington addressed the crowd, claiming to be innocent, and ready to meet his maker. brace, every once in a while, interrupted him, using terrible and vulgar language. the caps were adjusted, the ropes cut and the two dropped into eternity. they were left hanging 40 minutes, after which the bodies were removed by the committee to their rooms and afterwards turned over to the coroner. they were both young men--hetherington 35, a native of england, had been in california since 1850, while brace was but 21, a native of onandaigua county, n. y. ballot box stuffing. the ballot boxes that had been used by casey and his ilk were of a peculiar construction, having false slides on the sides and bottoms that could be slipped out and thereby letting enough spurious votes drop into the box to insure the election of their man or men. it was claimed that nearly the entire set of municipal officers then holding office had secured their election through this man. they were afterwards requested by the vigilance committee to resign their offices, but at the first election that was held on november 4th, they were all displaced by men selected by a new party (the people's party) that was the outcome of the efforts of the vigilance committee. billy mulligan. william mulligan was shipped out of the state on the steamer "golden age" on june 5th, 1856, with instructions never to return under penalty of death. however, after three or four years of absence he returned to san francisco. he was often seen on the street, but was not molested until sometime in the summer of 1862 when he got a crowd of boys around him on the crossing of prospect place and clay street, between powell and mason streets. it was not long before he had trouble with them and shot into the crowd, injuring a boy, however, not seriously. the police were soon on the ground, but mulligan had made his way into the old st. francis hotel on the corner of clay and dupont streets which was vacant at that time. the police came and they were directed to the building where billy could be found. when the police entered they found they were half a story below the floor of a very large room in the second story. billy was called upon to surrender. he told them that the first one that put his head above the floor would be a dead man, and knowing the desperate character they were dealing with, they thought best to retire and get instruction from the city attorney, who told them they had a right to take him dead or alive, whereupon they proceeded to arm themselves with rifles and stationed themselves on the second floor of a building on the opposite side of the street from the st. francis on dupont street, and when mulligan was passing one of the windows the police fired. mulligan dropped to the floor, dead as a door nail. he was turned over to the coroner and has not been seen on the streets since. charles p. duane is another one of twenty-seven men who were shipped out of the state and returned. he shot a man named ross on merchant street, near kearny. i do not remember whether the man lived or died, or what became of duane. black list. from the book entitled "san francisco vigilance committee of '56," by f. w. smith, i quote the following, with some corrections and alterations: "i am informed by an ex-vigilante that the committee roll call of '56, just before its disbandment, numbered between eight and nine thousand. in concluding our history of this society, we will give the names and penalties inflicted on those who came under its eye during the latter year; whose conduct was so irreparably bad that it could not be excused. those who suffered the death penalty did so in expiation for lives they had taken. the names of these culprits are familiar to the reader. we also give the names of those who were required to leave the state; all of whom, in the archives of the vigilantes, fall under the head of the black list:" james p. casey, executed may 22nd, 1856. charles cora, executed may 22nd, 1856. joseph hetherington, executed july 29th, 1856. philander brace, executed july 29th, 1856. yankee sullivan (francis murray), suicided may 31st, 1856. chas. p. duane, shipped on "golden age," june 5th, 1856. william mulligan, shipped on "golden age," june 5th, 1856. woolley kearney, shipped on "golden age," june 5th, 1856. bill carr, sent to sandwich islands, june 5th, 1856, bark "yankee." martin gallagher, sent to sandwich island, june 5th, 1856, bark "yankee." edward bulger, sent to sandwich islands, june 5th, 1856, bark "yankee." peter wightman, ran away about june 1st, 1856. ned mcgowan, ran away about june 1st, 1856. john crow, left on "sonora," june 20th, 1856. bill lewis, shipped on "sierra nevada,"--june 20th, 1856. terrence kelley, shipped on "sierra nevada," june 20, 1856. john lowler, shipped on "sierra nevada," june 20th, 1856. william hamilton, shipped on "sierra nevada," june 20th, 1856. james cusick, ordered to leave but refused to go, and fled into the interior. james hennessey, ordered to leave, but fled to the interior. t. b. cunningham, shipped july 5th, 1856, on "john l. stephens." alex. h. purple, shipped july 5th, 1856, on "john l. stephens." torn mulloy, shipped july 5th, 18,56, on "john l. stephens." lewis mahoney, shipped july 5, 1856, on "john l. stephen,." j. r. maloney, shipped july 5th, 1856, on "john l. stephens." dan'l aldrich, shipped july 5th, 1856, on "john l. stephens." james white, shipped july 21st, 1856, on "golden age." james burke, alias "activity," shipped july 21st, 1856, on "golden age." wm. f. mclean, shipped july 21st, 1856, on "golden age." abraham kraft, shipped july 21st, 1856, on "golden age." john stephens, shipped september 5, 1856, on "golden age." james thompson, alias "liverpool jack," shipped september 5, 1856, on "golden age." many others either left of their own volition or under orders to leave the state. bulger and gallagher who had been shipped out of the country on june 5th returned to san francisco. in their haste the committee had failed to read their sentences to them and they were not aware of the penalty of returning. they were again shipped out of the country and ordered not to return under penalty of death. there were 489 persons killed during the first 10 months of 1856. six of these were hanged by the sheriff, and forty-six by the mobs, and the balance were killed by various means by the lawless element. "fort gunnybags" 1903. on march 21, 1903, the california historic landmarks league placed a bronze tablet on the face of the building at 215 sacramento street that had formerly been the headquarters of the vigilance committee of 1856, inscribed as follows: "fort gunnybags was situated on this spot, headquarters of the vigilance committee in the year 1856." many of the old committee and pioneers participated in the ceremonies. the old monumental bell which had been used those stirring days was also in evidence and pealed out its last "call to arms." closing chapter of vigilance committee. as a closing chapter to the history of the vigilance committee of 1856, or at least the immediate cause of its coming into existence, there was sold at public auction in san francisco on the evening of january 14th, 1913, the very papers that james king, of william, had had transcribed from the records in new york and published in his paper the "evening bulletin" showing the record of casey's indictment, imprisonment and pardon, the publication of which he, casey, resented by shooting king. in addition to these documents were sold many of the books, papers, etc., of as well as other books and papers relating to the vigilance committee that had been collected together by mr. c. j. king, a son of james king of william. vigilance committee work in 1849, '50 and '51. while there has been a great deal said about the vigilance committee in california in 1856, there has not been much said about it in '49, '50 and '51. that the reader may know what was going on up to that time, i must now draw largely from previously published accounts for my information, for a condensed statement. on the 30th day of january, 1847, mr. washington a. bartlet became the first alcalde of san francisco, under the american flag. at this time the population numbered 500, including indians. during '47 and '48 it increased to two thousand, and by the last of july, 1849, it was over five thousand. the condition of the town at this time was terribly demoralized, gambling, drunkenness and fights on every corner. about this this came a class of offscourings of other countries and the curses to california. it was during this dreadful state of uncertainty that the famous vigilance committee of 1851 was organized, and it now became known that there was an organized committee for the purpose of dealing with criminals. it was about this time the case of john jenkins came up and he was arrested and tried by the committee, and condemned to be hanged. he was then hanged until he was dead. the tragic fate of jenkins, and the determination manifested to deal severely with the villains had the effect of frightening many away. the steamers to stockton and sacramento were crowded with the flying rascals. the sydney coves and the more desperate characters remained. at this, time the city served notices on all persons known to be vicious characters to leave the city at once, on fear of being forcibly expelled to the places whence they had come. this was rigidly enforced and had a very wholesome effect. the next one to come before the committee was james stuart, who was transported from england to australia for forgery. it is not worth while to go into details on account of this man, for he confessed to crimes enough to hang him a dozen times. on the morning of july 11th, 1851, the taps on the bell of the monumental engine house summoned the entire vigilance committee. the prisoner was then allowed two hours grace, during which time the rev. dr. mills was closeted with him in communion. after the expiration of the two hours, the condemned was led forth under a strong guard. he was taken down battery street to the end of the market street wharf, where everything had been previously arranged for the execution. very soon after the procession reached the spot the fatal rope was adjusted and the condemned hoisted up by a derrick. the hanging of stuart seems to have been a very bungling piece of work, but this man's life was given to evil doing, and the great number of crimes confessed and committed by him would seem to say that he was not deserving of any more sympathy than which he got. this was a sorry spectacle, a human being dying like a dog, but necessity, which dared not trust itself to feelings of compassion, commanded the deed, and unprofitable sentiment sunk abashed. two more criminals and i am done with rough characters--samuel whittaker and robert mckenzie, who had been arrested and duly and fairly tried by the committee. they confessed their guilt and were condemned to be hanged. their names being familiar and repulsive to all decent citizens. they were hanged side by side in public view on august 24th, 1851. the sight striking terror to the hearts of other evildoers, who were impressed by these examples that they could no longer be safe in san francisco, such as had been suspected and notified by the committee, quickly left the city; they, however, found no shelter in the interior. this brings me to where i took up the vigilance committee of 1856. san francisco in 1847. in view of the great and growing importance of the town of san francisco (yerba buena), situated on the great bay of the same name, we will give our readers a few pertinent and fully reliable statements. "the townsite, as recently surveyed, embraces an extent of one and one-half square miles. it is regularly laid out, being intersected by streets from 60 to 80 feet in width. the squares are divided into lots of from 16 1/2 varas (the spanish yard of 33 1/3 inches) front and 50 deep, to 100 varas square. the smaller and more valuable of these lots are those situated between high and low water mark. part of these lots were sold in january last at auction, and brought from $50 to $600. the established prices of 50 and 100 vara lots are $12 and $25. san francisco, last august, contained 459 souls, of whom 375 were whites, four-fifths of these being under 40 years of age. some idea of the composition of the white population may be gathered from the following statement as to the nationality of the larger portion: english, 22; german, 27; irish, 14; scotch, 14: born in the united states, 228; californians, 89. previously to the first of april, 1847, there had been erected in the town 79 buildings, nearly all of which had been erected within the two years preceding, whereas in the next four months 78 more had been constructed. there can be no better evidence of the advantages and capabilities for improvement of the place than this single fact."--st. louis "reville," february 12, 1848. john a. sutter. i remember standing on the bank of the sacramento river, talking with captain sutter, in the fall of '49; he remarked, "i have moored my boats in the tops of those cottonwood trees, where the driftwood showed not less than 25 feet from the ground." "the plaza." portsmouth square or the "plaza," as we then called it, was located in the hub of the old settlement on the cove, and occupied half a block to the west of kearny street, between clay and washington. it was the scene of all public meetings and demonstrations. it was named after the old sloop-of-war "portsmouth," whose commanding officer, captain montgomery, landed with a command of 70 sailors and marines on july 8, 1846, raised the american flag here and proclaimed the occupancy of northern california by the united states. a salute of twenty-one guns was fired from the "portsmouth" simultaneously. on the east side of kearny street, opposite the plaza, was the "el dorado," a famous gambling saloon, adjoining which was the parker house, afterwards the jenny lind theatre, while on the north side of washington street stood the bella union theatre, and on the west on brenham place was the old monumental fire engine house whose fire bell played so prominent a part in the days of the vigilantes. in the spring of 1850 the writer was in san francisco, and made the acquaintance of captains egery and hinkley, who were the owners of the pacific foundry. they being in need of some molding sand for small work, i consented to go to san jose and get some for them. i engaged mr. watts, who had a little schooner that would carry about six tons. he was captain and i was super-cargo, and we made the trip down in about one day. i found what i wanted on the banks of a slough, loaded the schooner and returned to san francisco. while in san jose i came across two young ladies. i had a very pleasant chat with them. i learned later on that they were the daughters of mr. burnett, who became the first governor of california. i heard no more of them until 1910, when i was on my way to monterey to attend the unveiling of the sloat monument. i enquired for them of a man in the depot, and he told me that one of them was lying over there, dead (pointing in the direction), i could not help expressing my sorrow. the captain landed me and my cargo in san francisco in good shape, without any mishap on the voyage. i delivered the cargo in good order and was well paid. early realty values. in 1850 i was in san francisco and by chance was on clay street where the city was selling 50-vara water lots in the neighborhood of sansome, battery and front streets, at auction, $25 for inside lot, and $30 for corner lots. i stood there with my hands in my pockets, and gold dust and gold coin on my person that was a burden to me and bought not a single lot. there were many others who were in the same fix that i was. you may say, "what a lot of fools," and i would say, "yes." here is another little joke: sometime before this i made a deposit of a sack of gold dust with adams & co.'s express in san francisco. when the time came for me to leave the city, i went into the office to draw my sack of dust. the clerk brought it forward at once and i said, "how much for the deposit?" he said, "five dollars." then i said, "you will have to take it out of the sack as i have no coin." he said, "are you going to sell it?" "yes," i said. "well," said he, "you can sell it at the counter on the other side, and pay that clerk." "all right," said i, and sold my dust. it amounted to $425. he counted out the $25 in small change, and slipped it out onto the counter. i let it lay there until he had counted out the rest. a deal in "slugs." at this time the $50 slugs were in circulation. he counted out the $400 in a pile and took hold of the bottom one and set the pile over to my side of the counter, as much as to say, "there is your money." i said to him "there is five dollars coming to you for the deposit of the dust." he picked the five dollars out of the change on the counter. i picked up the balance of the change and put it into my pocket. i also picked up the pile of slugs by the bottom one in the same way that he handed them to me and dropped them into an outside pocket of my coat without counting them, and started for the four o'clock boat for stockton. on my way to the wharf i thought that pile of slugs looked large and i took them out and counted them. i found that i had twelve instead of eight. i turned around and went back to the office, to the same counter and clerk, and said to him, "do you rectify mistakes here?" he said, "not after a man leaves the office." i said, "all right," and left the office and made the stockton boat all right. but there were no insane asylums there at that time. harry meiggs. in the early fifties honest harry meiggs (as he was called) was one of our most enterprising, generous and far-seeing citizens. his first venture was in the banking business. it was while engaged in this pursuit that he gained the name "honest harry meiggs." his banking business was good for a year or so and then he conceived the idea of building a wharf at north beach. it commenced at francisco street between powell and mason streets. it extended north several hundred feet and was used for a landing place for lumber in the rough, to be conveyed to his mill on the south side of francisco street near powell. in order to accommodate the demands of trade an "l" was extended eastward from the end of his wharf. about this time he got into financial troubles. in october, 1854, he departed with his family for chili between two days and passed out through the golden gate, and no more was heard of him for a long time. it finally became known that he was in peru, engaged in building bridges for that government. he took contracts and was very successful and became well off in a few years. he sent an agent to san francisco to hunt up all his creditors and pay them, dollar for dollar with interest. i knew a widow in san francisco in the late '60s by the name of rogers who was a creditor, who married a man by the name of allen; i think that was in 1867. they went to peru and saw mr. meiggs. he paid all she demanded, about $300. allen returned and reported to the children that their mother died while in peru of fever, but they never got a cent of the money. mr. meiggs was born in new york in 1811 and died in peru in 1877. san francisco's first town clock. the first public clock ever erected in san francisco was placed on the frontage of the upper story of a four-story building at nos. 425-427 montgomery street, that was being built by alexander austin. this was in 1852. the clock was ordered by him and brought via the "panama route" from new york, arriving in san francisco on the steamer panama. mr. austin occupied the ground floor as a retail dry goods establishment and it was one of the first, if not the first, of any prominence in the city. he afterwards moved to the southeast corner of sutter and montgomery streets and continued there until 1869 when he was elected city and county tax collector. the clock remained on the building until january 20th, 1886, when the then owner of the building, mr. d. f. walker, had it removed so as to arrange for the remodeling of the interior. mr. w. h. wharff, the architect in charge of the remodeling, purchased the clock and retained it in his possession until november 24, 1911, when he presented it to the memorial museum of the golden gate park, where the curator, mr. g. h. barron, placed it in the "pioneer room." it is to be seen there now. admission day flag. here is an interesting fact that has never been given publicity before, and i simply relate it as told me by sarah connell, the daughter of the man that carried it. "mr. d. s. haskell, manager of the express and banking business of adams & co., conceiving the patriotic idea of having an american flag carried in the division of which his firm was to be a part, endeavored to procure an american flag, but found that nothing but flags of the size for ships or poles were to be had. he then started to find material from which to have one made, but in this he was unsuccessful also. so, undaunted, he at last found a dressmaker who lived somewhere in the neighborhood of washington and dupont streets, who found in her 'piece-bag' that she had brought from new york, enough pieces of silk and satin (they were not all alike) to make a flag three feet by two feet. he was so delighted with her handiwork that he gave her a $50 slug for her work[6]. "thus it was that adams & co. were able to parade under the stars and stripes in that memorable parade of october 28, 1850, in celebration of the admission of california as a state into the union. after the parade mr. haskell presented the flag to their chief messenger, my father, mr. thomas connell, and it has been in our possession since." mr. thomas connell. mr. connell was one of the few of the early comers who never went to the mines, though of course, that was his intention. he started, but somewhere on the contra costa side--it was all contra costa then--he fell ill of malaria fever. there was no one with time to bother with a sick man and he was unable to proceed or return so he expected to end his life there. when the disease abated he concluded that he had no desire to penetrate further into the wilderness, so he turned his face towards san francisco again. he was a shipwright by trade and though there was nothing doing in his line, he saw the possibilities of a boating business when there were no wharves, piers or other accommodations for freight or passengers. one of the curious uses to which his boats were put was the carrying of a water supply. they were chartered by a company and fitted with copper tanks which were filled from springs near sausalito. on this side of the bay the water was transferred to wagons like those now used for street sprinkling and the precious fluid was supplied to householders at a remunerative rate of twenty-five cents a pail, every family having one or two hogsheads fitted with a spigot to hold the supply. mr. connell also carried the first presidential message received in the state, rowing up the sacramento river day and night in his own boat to deliver the document at the capitol, and for sake of the sentiment he also carried the last one received by steamer as far as oakland, whence the delivery was completed by train. uncle phil roach, happy valley. uncle phil roach, editor and founder of the "san francisco examiner," lived on clementina street near first. he was one of those good natured, genial old men that everybody liked, was at one time president of the society of california pioneers (1860-1), and later elected to the state legislature. he afterwards acted as administrator of the blythe estate, but died before its final settlement. the place where he lived was called happy valley and the only entrance to it was at the intersection of market, bush and first streets, this crossing being at the east end of a sand dune about 30 feet high, extending westerly about half a mile. at this time the waters of the bay came up to the corner of market and first streets, but it was not long before this, and many other sand dunes, disappeared, being scraped and carted off to fill the nearby mud flats. there was at this time a little wharf 50 feet wide extending out into the cove from the foot of clay street at davis 1550 feet to a depth of 35 feet. it was called "long wharf." to the north of this wharf the water lapped what is now sansome street for a block (to washington street) and followed the shore line to the corner of jackson and montgomery streets. early water supply. my mind drifts back to the days when our water system was dependent in part upon a well near the corner of market and first streets. this was in 1855 when the population of san francisco was between 40,000 and 50,000. i was then living on third street near mission and got my supply of water from a man named somers who conveyed water about the city to his various customers in a cart. i took water from him for about three years at the rate of $1.50 per week. many's the time i have gone out to the mission hunting rabbits. all that part of the city was as wild as it ever was, sand dunes and low grounds. about three years later a company built a plank toll road on mission street from some point near the water front to the mission, a distance of about three miles. this made an opening through the sand dunes and that section filled up rapidly. postoffice. the postoffice was situated on the lot at the northwest corner of washington and battery streets. it was built in 1855. previous to the erection of this building the pioneers obtained their mail from the postoffice on clay street and waverly place, and on clay street near kearny opposite the plaza (portsmouth square), and afterwards on clay and kearny streets. the great fire of 1852 destroyed these places. to avoid confusion and facilitate the delivery of the mail on the day the steamer arrived, long lines were formed of people who expected letters from home. it was a frequent occurrence to see the same people standing in place all day waiting their turn, the delivery windows being arranged alphabetically. oft-times persons would sell their places for as much as ten and even twenty dollars. john parrott. john parrott, the banker, was a good natured man and could take a joke with much grace. here is one: "a broker came to him one day and said: 'mr. parrott, i want to borrow one thousand dollars on a lot of hams in the warehouse.' 'all right,' said mr. parrott. it went on for some time and mr. parrott looked around for his ham man, but could not find him, but he found the hams and the greater part of the weight of them was maggots. mr. parrot was very much disgusted. time went on for a number of years and another man came to him to borrow money on hams in the warehouse. mr. parrott said to him, shaking his finger before the man's face, 'no more hams, no more hams,' and walked off." it was a standing joke on the street for a long time. this was late in the '50's. in 1858-59 i built two very good houses on the south side of howard street near fourth. i lived in one of them about two years and then bought on the north side of taylor street between clay and washington streets and resided there 17 years. pony express. i was present when the first messenger mounted his pony to start on the first trip across the continent. he started from kearny street between clay and washington, opposite the "plaza"--this was on the 3rd of april, 1860. it was a semi-weekly service, each rider to carry 15 pounds of letters--rate $5 per half ounce. stations were erected about 25 miles apart and each rider was expected to span three stations, going at the rate of eight miles per hour. the first messenger to reach san francisco from the east arrived april 14, 1860, and was enthusiastically received. time for letters from new york was reduced to 13 days, the actual time taking from 10 1/2 to 12 days. the best horses and the bravest of men were necessary to make these relays, over the mountains, through the snow and across the plains through the indian-infested country. the distance from san francisco to st. joseph, mo., was 1996 miles and the service was established by majors, russell & co., of leavenworth, kansas. now i will go back a few years and pick up a little experience that was scattered along the road. in 1861 i took my family around the bay for an outing in a private carriage. we went through san mateo, redwood city, santa clara, san jose, hot springs, hayward, san leandro, oakland and back to san francisco by boat. we enjoyed the trip very much without any mishap to mar its pleasure. a venture in flour. about this time i bought out loring & mason who were in the retail grocery business on the corner of taylor and clay streets. this was another venture in which i had never had any experience, "but," said i, "here goes for what there's in it." a few days later there came a man in his buggy from over the hill with whom i was very little acquainted. he had charge of the empire warehouse in the lower part of the city. his name was mr. garthwait. he called at my store and said, "woolley, i have a lot of oregon standard flour in the warehouse. the storage is paid for one month, and i will sell you what you want for $6 and three bits a barrel, and you can take it out from time to time as you like." after looking the situation over for a few minutes i came to the conclusion that i could not buy any lower. i said, "well, i will take one hundred barrels." "all right," said he, and drove off. in a few days i went down and paid for it. about the middle of december 1861 it commenced to rain in the valleys and a few days later it rained in the mountains throughout the state, and the snow commenced to melt and that, together with the rain in the valleys, started the rivers to rising, and as the rivers went up so did the flour. the water gauge at sacramento indicated feet and inches in going up while flour indicated dollars and cents in going up. on the first of january, 1862, it was still raining and the water coming down in a greater volume. communication was cut off from all parts of the country except by water. the legislature was in session that winter and was obliged to adjourn and go to san francisco to finish its labors. in order that my readers may adequately realize the greatness of this flood it is no more than fair to say that the river boats from san francisco went up j and k streets in sacramento city and took people out of the second-story windows. now, then we will call this high-water mark and flour $10 a barrel and going up. during this time i was letting my customers have what they wanted at the quotation price. it continued to advance about one dollar per day until it reached sixteen dollars per barrel. at this time i had very little left and it all went at that price. very soon after this flour came in from oregon and the price went down, as well as the water, and the market assumed a lower level and business went on as usual. it must be remembered that all transportation at this time was either by water or highway. a venture in oil. in this year was the beginning of the civil war and for the benefit of those who came into active life later on i will give them a little of my experience in a small way. at the time i purchased the store of which i have spoken i took over a standing contract they had with a firm in boston to send them a specified amount of coal oil around cape horn, as near six weeks as any vessel would be leaving for san francisco. i took what was on the way at that time and the shipments were continued to me. at this time it took from sixty to seventy days to get answers to letters from the east. time and business go on. we had on an average of about two steamers a month from new york with the mails. in 1862 the war tax and stamp act came in force. it was high and quite a hardship for some but everybody paid it cheerfully and with a good grace, and felt that they were getting off easy. about this time greenbacks came into circulation as money. it was legal tender and you could not refuse it. it made a great deal of hard feeling on many occasions but after a long time it set settled down to a premium on gold, which fluctuated from day to day. finally the premium on gold was so high that currency was only fifty cents on a dollar, that is, one dollar in gold would buy two dollars in currency. on account of this many debtors would buy currency and pay their creditors with it. this was considered very crooked on the part of the debtor. i myself was a victim to some extent. the "evening bulletin" exposed a great many men by publishing their names but by so doing it made enemies and it did not last long. all bills rendered from this time on were made payable in united states gold coin. my coal oil cost me fifty cents per gallon in boston, payable in currency. the freight was also payable in currency. now my readers will readily see that my coal oil cost me a little over twenty-five cents per gallon laid down in san francisco. about 1863 there was an unusual demand for coal oil and it was scarce and there was very little on the way around cape horn, consequently the market price went up very rapidly until it reached $1.50 and $1.75 per gallon. the result was that i sold all i had in the warehouse and on the way around the horn. i kept what i had in the store for my retail trade. i do not look upon these speculations as any foresight of mine, but the change of circumstances and conditions of the market. flood of '61 and '62. the great flood of '61 and '62 was an occasion seldom known in the state. early in december '61 it commenced to rain in the valleys and snow in the mountains. in about two weeks it turned to rain in the mountains and valleys. the melting of the snow caused the rivers to rise very rapidly, the levees gave way and the waters flooded the city. the merchants commenced to put their goods on benches and counters, anywhere to keep them above water. families who had an upper story to their house moved into it. the water continued to rise until it reached a point so that the boats running between sacramento and san francisco went up j and k streets and took people out of the second story of their houses. the islands were all flooded and there was great suffering along the river besides the great loss of property. this flood did more damage than any high water since '49, but it was as an ill wind as far as it concerned my business, as i related previously. civil war times in s. f. in 1861 dr. wm. a. scott, pastor of the calvary presbyterian church, on the north side of bush street between montgomery and sansome streets, closed his services praying for the presidents of the union and of the confederate states. as soon as the benediction was pronounced mrs. thomas h. selby smuggled him out of the side door into her carriage and off to her home, fearing the congregation, which had became a seething mob, might capture and do him bodily harm. there was no demonstration at this time but the next morning there was to be seen in effigy dr. scott's form hanging from the top of the second story of a building in course of construction on the same block. it created some excitement for the time being, but it soon simmered out. lloyd tevis was getting badly frightened about this time for fear his home on the corner of taylor and jackson streets would be destroyed and appealed to the police for protection. he was told to go home and drape his home in black. this he did most effectually, the occasion being the assassination of president abraham lincoln. one of the exciting times in san francisco in 1865 was when a mob went to the office of "the examiner" on washington street near sansome and carried everything that was movable into the street and piled it up with the intention of burning. it seems that this paper was so pronounced in its sympathy with the cause of the confederacy that it aroused such a feeling as to cause drastic measures. the police authorities were informed of what was going on and colonel wood, captain of police, got a squad of policemen together and proceeded to the scene, but their movements were so slow that it was hard to tell whether they were moving or not and by the time they had reached the place the boys had carried off nearly everything that had been thrown out. i have two pieces of type now that i picked up in the street about that time. uncle phil roach, the editor, was in later years a member of the state legislature and tried to get an appropriation to cover his loss but his efforts were of no avail. president lincoln and gen. vallejo. president lincoln in the early part of the civil war called general vallejo to washington on business. while there general vallejo suggested to mr. lincoln that the united states build a railroad into mexico, believing as he said, it would be a benefit to both nations. mr. lincoln smilingly asked, "what good would it do for our people to go down to mexico even if the railroads were built? they would all die of fever and according to your belief go down yonder," with a motion of his hand towards the supposed location of the infernal regions. "i wouldn't be very sorry about that," remarked general vallejo coolly. "how so?" said mr. lincoln. "i thought you liked the yankees." "so i do," was the answer. "the yankees are a wonderful people, wonderful. wherever they go they make improvements. if they were to emigrate in large numbers to hell itself, they would somehow manage to change the climate." off to the nevada mines. uncle billy rodgers, from peoria, ill., was a fellow passenger of mine when crossing the plains in 1849 in the first division of the "turner, allen & co. pioneer mule train," consisting of 40 wagons, 150 mules and 150 passengers. he was a gambler before he left home and he gambled all the way across the plains. many people think that a gambler has no heart but this man was all heart. i knew him on one occasion, after visiting a sick man in camp, to take off his shirt and give it to the sick man and go about camp for an hour to find one for himself. we arrived in california on september 10, 1849. we parted about that time and i saw no more of him until the winter of '68 and '69 when i was on my way to white pine in nevada. we had to lay over a few days at elko, nevada, in order to get passage in the stage. as we had saddles and bridles we made an effort to get some horses and furnish our own transportation, and we had partly made arrangements with a man by the name of murphy. the day previous to this i overheard a conversation between two gentlemen sitting at the opposite end of a red hot stove. after they parted i approached the one left and said, "is this uncle billy?" he said, "yes, everybody calls me 'uncle billy' but i do not know you." i gave him my name and he was as glad to see me as i was to see him. we had a long and very pleasant chat. now to take up the line of march where i left off, i said, "hold on boys a little while i go and see a friend of mine." "all right," said they. i called on uncle billy and told him what we were doing and asked him what kind of a man murphy was, and his answer was, "he's a very good blacksmith," and repeated it two or three times, then said, "i am in a wild country and never say anything against anybody." i said, "that's enough uncle billy, i understand you thoroughly." i parted with him and we took the stage for hamilton and treasure hill. the last i heard of uncle billy was that he went north as an escort to some party and died there. uncle billy was a gambler all his life but not a drinker. his heart, his hand and his pocket were ever open and ready to respond to the relief of the distress of others. the writing of the above calls to mind another meeting with uncle billy of which i had lost sight, the date of which i cannot fix. i think it was in the first half of '60 i met him on the street in san francisco and our meeting was most cordial. we had a very pleasant street visit and he said to me, "woolley, i am going home, i shall take the next steamer for new york." i said to him, "how are you fixed, uncle billy?" he said, "i have eleven thousand dollars and i am going home." i congratulated him for his courage and good luck and wished him a pleasant voyage and a happy reunion with his old friends. about a week later i met uncle billy on the street again and said to him, "how is this uncle billy, i thought you were going home on the last steamer?" "yes," said he, "i thought so too; at the same time, i thought i would just step into a faro bank and win just enough to pay my passage home so that i would have even money when i got home. but instead of that i lost every dollar i had and i am going back into the mountains again. my readers know the rest." my friends this is only one of thousands who had the same experience. in 1868 "the girl i left behind me" went east on a visit of six months, taking with her our two children. in the fall of that year (1868) i went to white pine in nevada. it was a very cold trip for me and i came home in june "thawed out," sold out my grocery business and went into the produce commission business and followed it for ten years. martin j. burke. chief of police martin j. burke i knew very well in the early sixties. he was a genial and good natured man, well liked by everybody who knew him. i went to him one time with a curb bit for a bridle which would bring the curb rein into action with only one pair of reins. he was much pleased with it and used one for a long while. george c. shreve, the jeweler, had one also, as did charles kohler, of the firm of kohler & frohling, wine men of san francisco. he offered me $3000 for my right but i refused it. i applied for a patent only to find that another was about twenty years ahead of me. the donahue brothers. james, peter and michael donahue, the founders of the union iron works on first and mission streets, were three honorable, upright and just men. their works have since been removed to the potrero south of the third and townsend streets depot of the southern pacific co., and have of late passed into the hands of the united steel corporation. they are the largest of their kind on the pacific coast and stand a monument to their founders. james dunahue built and owned the occidental hotel on montgomery street between sutter and bush streets. peter donahue had the foundry and machine shop. at one time there was a little misunderstanding understanding between the two and they did not speak to each other for quite a while. during this time peter started to build an addition of brick on the north side of the foundry, got up one story and stopped. the two brothers met one day opposite the unfinished building and james said, "peter why don't you go on and finish your building?" peter replied, "i have not got money enough." "oh!" said james, "go ahead and finish it up and i will let you have all the money you want." 'from that time on they resumed their brotherly relations. peter went on in his business. his last venture was to build the petaluma railroad. both are now dead. michael went east early in the '50s and i knew very little of him. the take of a young bull. in 1870 i was in the produce commission business in san francisco and had a consignor in vacaville by the name of g. n. platt who had been presented with a fine young bull by frank m. pixley, who lived in sausalito, in the hills about two miles from town. mr. platt requested me to go and get the bull and ship him to vacaville, so i left next morning for sausalito. here i sought a man who could throw the lasso. after two hours i found the man i wanted. he had the mustangs and all the necessary equipment. we mounted and left for mr. pixley's residence where we were informed that the animal we wanted was somewhere in the hills with the other cattle. this was rather indefinite information, but we had to make the best of it and started out. our mustangs were well calculated for the occasion and we went over the hills like kites. finally we saw some cattle about a mile away and we made for them, found what we were in search of and made for him. he had horns about two inches long and was as light on his feet as a deer, and gave us a lively chase for about one hour. when we had him at the end of a rope he was determined to go just the opposite way than we wanted him to, but the man and the mustang at the other end of the rope had their way part of the time, so after about two hours hard fighting we succeeded in getting the little fellow down to the wharf where i found that there would not be another boat until after dark, so i concluded to wait and come over in the morning and ship him. the next thing was to dispose of the bull for the night. i said, "here is a coal bunker, we will put him in here." so after getting permission we started for it with the bull at one end of the rope and the vaquero at the other. the bull got a little the better of the man and went up the wharf full tilt with the vaquero in tow. the vaquero said, "there is a post on the wharf, the bull will go one side and i will go the other and round him up." but he got rounded up himself and left sprawled out on the wharf. this let the curtain down for the night and the bull went back to the hills with the rope. i returned to san francisco, went back in the morning, hunted up my man and mustangs, mounted and went into the hills again for my bull. this was a bully ride, i enjoyed it hugely, found our game about noon, picked up the rope with the bull on the end of it. he was still wild and full of resistance. he was the hardest fellow of his size that i ever attempted to handle. we made our way back to the landing, found the boat waiting. i called the boat hands to help put him on board. they came. i put one at his head, one on each side and one behind, and they all had as much as they wanted to keep control of him. finally he was made fast on the boat. while on our way to san francisco a lady from the upper deck called down to me, saying, "i will give you one hundred dollars for that bull." i said, "no, madam, you cannot have him, he is going into the country for business." after landing in san francisco i had to take him from one wharf to another so as to take the vacaville boat. i got a job wagon and the boat hands to take him out and tie the fellow to the hind axle of the wagon and then go by his side to the other boat. we fastened him securely to a stanchion and tagged to his destination. this relieved me of any further responsibility. i saw him about three years later in vacaville. he was a fine large fellow with all the fire in his eye that he had in his younger days. he had a large ring in his nose with a chain running from it to the end of each horn. now as my readers have had the bear story, and now the bull story, they will excuse me on those two subjects. admission day 1875. another event that might be of interest and worthy of reciting here on account of the many noted personages that partook in the celebration was the ceremonies connected with the 25th anniversary of the admission of california as a state into the union, september 9, 1875. the principal places of business, banks and offices were all closed and the buildings and streets were gaily bedecked with flags and bunting. the "bear flag" being in evidence everywhere. the shipping presented a pretty sight, the vessels seeming to outvie each other in their efforts to display the greatest amount of bunting and flags. one of the features of the day was the parade. the procession started from in front of the hall of the pioneers on montgomery street north of jackson, marched along montgomery to market, to eleventh, to mission and thence to woodward's gardens, where the exercises were held. when opposite the lick house, james lick, the honored president of the society, who reviewed the passing pioneers from his rooms, was given a rousing salute by each of the delegations as they passed. in this parade were members of the pioneer organizations from sacramento, stockton, marysville, vallejo, sonoma, marin, napa, mendocino, lake and placerville, as well as the parent organization of san francisco. the escort consisted of the 1st, 2nd and 3rd regiments, 2nd brigade, n. g. c., col. w. h. l. barnes, col. john mccomb and col. archie wason, respectively. brig. gen. john hewston, jr., commanding. marshal huefner and his aide followed. next came the several visiting pioneer organizations, then the carriages of invited guests, orator, reader and others. then the home society, turning out 427 strong. among the persons of note to have been seen and who wore the golden badge indicating that they had come here prior to 1849, were carlos f. glein, a. a. green, a. g. abel, george graft, w. p. toler, thos. edgar, g. w. ross, p. kadel, f. ballhaus, w. c. hinckley, h. b. russ, a. g. russ, owen murry, b. p. kooser, j. e. winson, arthur cornwall, e. a. engleberg, wm. jeffry, capt. hinckley, wm. huefner, thos. roche, f. g. blume, john c. ball and thomas eagar. among the others present were ex-gox. low, mayor otis, ex-sen. cole, chas. clayton, paul k. hubbs of vallejo, eleazer frisbie, l. b. mizner, niles searles, f. w. mckinstry and dr. o. m. wozencraft, a member of the first constitutional convention of california. in the sonoma delegation were nicholas carriger, ex-president and director; wm. hargrave, a member of the original bear flag party of 1846, mrs. w. m. boggs and mrs. a. j. grayson, who came here in 1846 in advance of the donner party. in the vallejo delegation were john paul jones donaldson, then 84 years old, who was on this coast as early as 1823 and who came back to reside here in 1848. wm. boggs and his delegation from sonoma were mostly all 1846 arrivals. james w. marshall, the man who discovered gold at coloma, about 45 miles northeast from sacramento, on january 19th, 1848, was with the sacramento delegation. he was then 67 years old, hale and hearty. mr. murphy, a survivor of the donner party, was with the marysville delegation. in addition to these were many others who have since become well known through their doings in the political arena and business world, and have made names for themselves that are honored and respected to this day and will ever find a place in this state's history. at the pavilion in woodward's gardens the literary services were held. d. j. staples, acting-president, delivered a stirring address, rehearsing the events of the past 25 years. dr. j. b. stillman then followed with an oration in which he spoke of the gold discovery in california, the effect upon the east of col. mason's report, the sudden influx of seekers of the "golden fleece" by sea and overland, of their hardships and endurance, and their experiences at the mines, etc., etc. mr. j. b. benton read a poem by mrs. james neall. the literary exercises were followed by a lunch and that by an entertainment of mixed character. billy emerson, ben cotton, billy rice, ernest linden, f. oberist, w. f. baker, j. g. russell and billy arlington of maguire's minstrel troupe, and w. s. lawton, capt. martin and l. p. ward, and the buisley family being among the entertainers. a balloon ascension followed the entertainment and during the day the "great republic" made an excursion around the bay. on an s. p. pay-car. in the summer of 1874 the paymaster of the southern pacific railroad company, major j. m. hanford, sent me an invitation to accompany him on the pay car through the san joaquin valley, to pay off the employees of the company. i was delighted to have an opportunity of going through the valley. at the appointed time i was on hand with two boxes of cigars, for i knew the major was likely to have some lively, good natured fellows with him, and i wanted to have something with me to help me along. now i must say something about this pay car, for it was a wonderful thing for me. it had the appearance on the inside of a hotel on wheels. at the rear end was a window through which the employees were paid; the depth of the room in which were the pay master and his two check clerks, was about the same as the width of the car. in it were the safe, rifles, shotguns, pistols, ammunition galore, with an opening into what was used as the dining room and berths, which would accommodate about 12 people. then came the cook's room on one side, with a narrow passageway on the other, into a small room in the front end of the car. this car was sixty feet in length and would make you think you were in a palace hotel on wheels. hank small, who had hands as big as a garden spade, was the engineer, with engine no. 96, which was always expected to pull the pay car. then there was a man by the name of olmsby who was one of the check clerks, young and very fine looking. then there was another man in the employ of the company by the name of gerald who was auditor for the company and had feet twice as large as any other man. now i want my readers to hold these three men in mind and their peculiarities for i shall refer to them later on. we are all now seated at the supper table, ten in all, and all railroad men except myself, with the dignified paymaster at the head of the table and his check clerk, olmsby, at the foot, who assumed the duty of saying grace by making motions around his chest and head, accompanied with these words, "bucksaws filed and set." this created some amusement and was the only time it occurred. the supper went on and the tables were cleared away, and then there was chatting and story telling. finally i started to tell a story and had gotten fairly into it when i suddenly discovered that every man in the room was sound asleep. it did not take me long to wake them up and have every man on his feet or on the floor. this did not last long, for i brought out one of my boxes of cigars and that settled the question right there. the next day we were in the san joaquin valley and continued the trip, paying the men as we went along, until we reached bakersfield. this was the end of the road at that time. then we returned to stockton, to sacramento, to red bluff, which was the end of the road in that direction at that time. from there we returned to san francisco, having had a very fine and agreeable trip, and each one returned to his former allotted position. i at this time was in the produce commission business on washington street near front street. inside of a year mr. olmsby left the railroad company, married and went to chico, in the sacramento valley, to run a stationery store. in 1876, the year that president hayes was elected, his wife gave birth to a child and olmsby sent a telegram to mr. hanford reading like this: "boy, born last night, has gerald's feet, hank small's hands, my good looks, and hollered for hayes all night." employ of the southern pacific. in 1884 i went into the employ of the southern pacific co. where i remained for twenty years. in 1904 on account of a rule of the company pertaining to long service and age, i was retired on a pension. i protested, they insisted, i accepted (because i could not help myself). the company was right and i appreciated the pension as they appreciated my services. in all those years i had no reason to complain of the company. shortly after my retirement from the employ of the southern pacific company i had sickness in my family and lost "the girl i left behind me," after fifty-three years of happy married life. this was in 1906, it is now 1913, and i am still behind, but i shall get there bye-and-bye and we will go on together side by side. sloat monument. on june 4, 1910, i went to monterey, calif., to attend the ceremonies of the unveiling and dedication of the sloat monument at the presidio of monterey. the idea, conception and putting through to a successful termination of the erection of this monument, was the work of, we might say, one man, major edwin a. sherman, v. m. w. it has taken the greater part of his time for twenty-four years. a large proportion of the money necessary was raised by subscription, but things lagged for a while, when the major applied to the u. s. congress for an appropriation of $10,000 to complete the work and got it. the monument was then finished under the supervision of lieutenant-colonel john biddle. at the dedication which was held under the auspices of the grand lodge of masons, col. c. w. mason, u. s. a., delivered the address of welcome, major sherman gave a brief sketch of the work and lt.-col. biddle made a few remarks. m. w. w. frank pierce, 33rd degree mason, officiated. the monument was erected to commemorate the raising of the american flag at monterey, the capital of california, july 7, 1846, by the forces under command of com. jonathan drake sloat, u. s. n. war had been declared between the u. s. and mexico. nob hill. in later days, about 1877, the term nob hill was applied to the crown of california street from powell street westward three blocks to jones street, on account of its having been selected by the railroad magnates of the state upon which to build their new homes, it being their desire to live together in their home life as well as in their business life. on the north side of california street commencing at powell was the residence of mr. david porter. this was torn down to make way for the fairmont hotel, ground for which was broken october 15, 1902. there were other small homes on other parts of the block but they too were removed and the entire block was used as a site for this famous hostelry. in the early days a long shanty 40 feet by 10 to 12 feet in width stood where the porter residence formerly stood. a man by the name of mcintire owned it. it was literally covered with california honeysuckle, and a view point of the town. this entire block was acquired by the late james g. fair, one of the famous mining men of nevada, and it still remains in the family estate. the hotel was in the course of construction at the time of the great fire of april 18-21, 1906, and the interior had to be rebuilt entirely as well as the stonework about the exterior openings. the next of the large homes was that of james c. flood, a handsome and imposing structure of connecticut brownstone. this building stood upon the eastern half of the block between mason and taylor streets and in order to build, a huge hill of rock as high as the building now is, had to be removed. this was in 1876. after the fire of 1906 this building was remodeled and is now occupied by the pacific-union club. mason street had just been cut through this same hill. on the west half of the block stood the home of the late d. d. colton, who made his fortune out of construction contracts on the central pacific railroad. it was afterwards purchased by c. p. huntington, another of the famous railroad magnates. on the next corner stood the large frame mansion of charles crocker, one of the builders of the c. p. r. r., built at an expense of $2,500,000. his son william h. built himself a home on the far corner of the same block. this takes us to jones street. when the late charles crocker selected this site for his home there was one piece of property facing on sacramento street that he could not buy, so in order to get even with the owner, a mr. young, he had a tall spite fence built around the house. the owner lived there for a while, but being shut off as he was from the sunlight, had his house removed; still he would not sell and the fence stood there for years afterwards. on the south side of the street commencing at powell stood the mansion of ex-governor leland stanford. when stanford purchased the property there stood there a fine house built by the actress julia dean hayne, with an entrance at the corner. this house was removed to the corner of pine and hyde streets. the stone retaining wall on powell and pine streets, owing to a spring on the property, gave way and had to be taken down (at the corner) and rebuilt. at the corner it extends 20 feet below the sidewalk and is 20 feet thick and 30 feet high. the ground was then terraced. the building cost in the neighborhood of $2,000,000. on the corner above, mark hopkins built his home. at his death it passed into the hands of a mr. searles who had married hopkins' widow and, not caring to live in california, he had it converted into an art gallery, and the beautiful conservatory into art rooms for the art association of the university of california, to whom he bequeathed the property. the building cost in the neighborhood of $2,750,000. on the next block, between mason and taylor streets, were the hamilton home, the home of ex-mayor e. b. pond and that of the tobins. while on the block from taylor to jones street stood the a. n. towne, h. h. sherwood and george whittell residences. just beyond jones street, on the same side, stood the home of e. j. (lucky) baldwin of race horse fame. in 1861 i moved to 1211 taylor street, between clay and washington, and resided there continuously until 1878, a period of 17 years. and i knew of stanford, hopkins, crocker and huntington, the quartet of railroad magnates, better than they knew of me. but what shall i say of them? they have all gone beyond the boundaries of human existence and their mansions, together with all the other homes on the hill, were burned in the fire of april 18-21, 1906. they were all men of master minds and are deserving the highest praise for their enterprise, determination and perseverance in the great work they undertook. it was not their money that did it, it was their heads. and there is where the great indebtedness of the state of california comes in to these men. going down the eastern slope on california, just below powell on the south side, at the corner of prospect place, stood a house once occupied by lieut. john charles fremont, while on the corner below stood the home of col. jonathan d. stevenson. this building was built in 1851 and had two tiers of verandas that extended entirely around the building. the colonel died at the age of 94 but had not owned or lived there for many years. it had been converted into a hotel and known as the harvey house. across the street on the other corner stood the grace episcopal church. the crocker heirs, not desiring to rebuild on their property on california, between taylor and jones streets, bequeathed it to the episcopal diocese on which to build a new grace church. it is now in course of construction. on pine street, at the southwest corner of stockton, stood the wilson home. on the southeast corner of mason stood the home of j. d. oliver, while on the southwest corner stood the home of mr. fred mccrellish, the owner of the "alta california," while just beyond were the homes of woods, jarboe and harrison and others. on the next block was the old stow residence while across the street isaiah w. lees, chief of police, resided. he was the greatest detective this coast has ever had--his was instinct and intuition, and his records will always remain a lasting monument. on the northwest corner of jones stood the home of the late james g. fair, of mining fame, of nevada. going north on powell street, at no. 812, mr. chilion beach, the bookseller, lived, while next door, no. 814, mr. d. d. shattuck resided. this building was erected in 1854--mr. shattuck came to california via the isthmus and resided here 47 years. on the next block (same side) stood a little one-story house with a high basement in which j. d. spencer, a brother of spencer the sociologist, lived for many years. just beyond stood the old high school building. on the next block, at no. 1010, resided for many years another of the old booksellers, mr. george b. hitchcock, proprietor of the "pioneer book store," opposite the "plaza." at the northwest corner of washington stood the first brick building built in san francisco. it was built in 1851 by john truebody, the brick being brought from new york. it was originally two stories high but upon the grading of the streets it was built another story downward to the new grade. he later added another story, the fourth, on top. even to the time of the fire (1906) you could see the various stairway landings on the washington street frontage. mr. truebody originally owned this entire block. the first church building in yerba buena (as san francisco was formerly called) was the first presbyterian church on the west side of powell near washington. it was built in 1849 of hand-hewn timbers from oregon. upon the erection of the first methodist church it was moved to the rear and used as a sunday school. john truebody constructed it. in this immediate neighborhood were many a frame building that had been brought around the horn "in the knocked down state." powell street, from clay to north beach, was graded in 1854. it and stockton street to the east, from sacramento street north to green street, were lined with neat homes and was then considered the fashionable residence section of the city, while on powell street were three churches. the streets in those days were all planked. beyond mason streets ran the trail westward to the presidio, past scattered cottages, sheds, dairies and vegetable gardens. on the east side of stockton street, between sacramento and clay streets, stood the old pioche residence, wherein were given many lavish entertainments, for its owner was an epicure and hospitable to a degree. he was a heavy speculator and at one time possessed of much property. his death was a mystery and has never been solved. during the '90's his home was used as the chinese consulate. on the west side of taylor street at the corner of sacramento street stood the home of capt. j. b. thomas, after occupied by addison e. head, while on the corner of clay i had my grocery business, living on the next block, between clay and washington, no. 1211. win. t. coleman, the leader of the vigilance committee, lived on the corner of washington street; this house was built by w. f. walton, and occupied in turn by s. c. hastings, wm. t. coleman and d. m. delmas, all men of prominence, while on the next corner stood the home of my old friend, gross, who came across the plains with me in 1849. in later days, mr. chilion beach resided there. on the east side at the southeast corner of washington, stood the j. b. haggin home, while on the northeast corner stood that of the beavers, and at the corner of jackson, the tevis.' in this neighborhood also lived ina d. coolbrith, whose home was the center of the literary genius of the state, amongst them being bret harte, joaquin miller, and charles warren stoddard. josiah stanford, a brother of leland stanford, lived on the south side of jackson street, just below the tevis home. here is as good a place as any to give my readers a short account of the clay street hill underground cable railroad, which operated on clay street from leavenworth to kearny streets, a distance of seven blocks, and at an elevation of 307 feet above the starting point. the cable car was the invention of mr. a. s. hallidie, who organized the company which built the line. this was the first time that the application of an underground cable was ever used to move street cars, and on august 1, 1873, the first run up the clay street hill from kearny to leavenworth street, was made, and by september 1st the road was in operation. it was a wonderful exhibition, and half the town was there to witness it. many were in doubt as to the success of the enterprise. the company required the property holders on the hill to subscribe and donate towards the expense, which they did. the writer owning some property there at that time, gave $100.00 to further the enterprise. this was in 1872. an interested chinese watched the moving cars and remarked: "no pushee, no pullee, go like hellee." the california street railroad company used the same device. this line was operated along california street from kearny to fillmore and first operated april 9, 1878. it was afterwards extended eastward to drumm and market streets and westward to central avenue. the sutter street r. r. co. was in operation january 27, 1877, and the geary street line, february 16, 1880. cable cars were also operated over sacramento and washington streets as well as over powell at later dates. [1] a few words might be said concerning the principals of this trouble. king, whose name was james king (before coming to california he had added "of william" so as to distinguish himself from others of that name), came to california november 10th, 1848, engaged in mining and mercantile pursuits and in december 1849 engaged in the banking business in san francisco. in 1854 he merged with adams & co. shortly afterwards they failed, and he lost everything he possessed. through the financial backing of his friends, he started the "daily evening bulletin," october 8th, 1855, a small four-page sheet about 10 x 15 inches in size. he was fearless in his editorials, but always within the bounds of right and justice, and took a strong position against corruption of the city officials and their means of election. his paper grew in circulation and size, and soon outstripped all the other papers combined. november 17th, 1855, the cora and richardson affair held the attention of the public, and king in his fearlessness inflamed the population into taking matters into their own hands after the courts had failed to convict. and by his so doing had aroused an enmity, and determination from the lawless element to stop his utterances, even at the cost of his life, so when he attacked in his paper, one james p. casey, a lawless character, gambler and ballot box manipulator and supervisor, as having served an eighteen-months sentence in sing sing, n. y., before coming to california, who also published a paper, "the sunday times," it brought matters to a crisis, for casey taking offense at this and other attacks on his ilk, shot king on the evening of may 14, 1856. the shooting of king was the cause of the formation of the vigilance committee of 1856 and the direct means of cleaning the city of the corruptness that had had swing for so many years.--[editor.] [2] two of the unused cartridges of mr. woolley's, at the end of the troublous time of the vigilance committee, are to be seen in the oakland public museum.--[editor.] [3] a large number of the citizens of san francisco interested themselves toward caring and providing for the family of the deceased, mr. king, and through the efforts of mr. f. w. macondray and six others, collected nearly $36,000. they had erected a monument in lone mountain cemetery, supported the family, and in 1868 the money which, had by judicious investment amounted to nearly $40,000, about half of this fund, was turned over to the elder children, leaving $22,000 on deposit, but this, through the bank's failure, netted the family only $15,000. [4] the body of james king, of william, was buried in lone mountain cemetery, that of james p. casey in mission dolores cemetery, by the members of crescent engine company no. 10, of which he was foreman, while that of charles cora was delivered to belle cora and its final resting place is unknown to this day, though it has been stated that she had it buried in mission dolores cemetery.--[editor.] [5] his body was interred in mission dolores cemetery.--[editor.] [6] the name of this "betsy ross" has been lost, though mr. connell probably knew it at the time. the flag, except for the blue field, is badly faded.--[editor.] * * * * * transcriber's note: the original publication has been replicated faithfully except as shown in the list of changes at the end of the text. words in italics are indicated like _this_. text emphasized with bold characters or other treatment is shown like =this=. * * * * * [illustration: modern business] forging ahead in business [illustration: modern business] alexander hamilton institute astor place new york city _canadian address, c. p. r. bldg., toronto._ _australian address, 8a castlereagh street, sydney._ copyright, 1921, by alexander hamilton institute contents page foreword--the law of success 7 chapter i the modern business course and service 9 ii the danger of specializing too early 30 iii pushing beyond the half-way mark 35 iv a personal problem 43 v the question before you 69 vi descriptive outline of the course 72 vii advisory council, lecturers and staff 97 advertisements 121 organization of the alexander hamilton institute _advisory council_ joseph french johnson, d.c.s., ll.d. dean, new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance frank a. vanderlip, a.m., ll.d. financier t. coleman dupont, d.c.s. business executive john hays hammond, d.sc., ll.d. consulting engineer jeremiah w. jenks, ph.d., ll.d. research professor of government and public administration, new york university _special lecturers_ erastus w. bulkley, member of the firm, spencer trask and company herbert s. collins, vice-president, united cigar stores company henry m. edwards, auditor, new york edison company harrington emerson, efficiency engineer charles ernest forsdick, controller, union oil company orlando c. harn, chairman of sales, national lead company a. barton hepburn, chairman, advisory board, chase national bank, new york frederic h. hurdman, certified public accountant lawrence m. jacobs, vice-president, international banking corporation jackson johnson, chairman, international shoe company, st. louis fowler manning, director of sales, diamond match company finley h. mcadow, past president, national association of credit men general charles miller, former chairman of the board, galena-signal oil company melville w. mix, president, dodge manufacturing company emmett h. naylor, secretary-treasurer, writing paper manufacturers' association holbrook f. j. porter, consulting engineer welding ring, exporter arthur w. thompson, president, the philadelphia company of pittsburgh frederick s. todman, general manager, hirsch, lillienthal & company john c. traphagen, treasurer, mercantile trust and deposit company of new york john wanamaker, merchant walter n. whitney, vice-president, continental grocery stores, inc. _authors, collaborators and staff members_ albert w. atwood, a.b., the stock and produce exchange bruce barton, general publicity dwight e. beebe, b.l., collections ralph starr butler, a.b., marketing and merchandising geoffrey s. childs, b.c.s., office methods edwin j. clapp, ph.d., transportation and terminal facilities raymond j. comyns, b.c.s., personal salesmanship herbert f. debower, ll.b., business promotion roland p. falkner, ph.d., business statistics major b. foster, m.a., banking principles charles w. gerstenberg, ph.b., ll.b., finance leo greendlinger, m.c.s., c.p.a. (n. y.), financial and business statements j. anton dehaas, ph.d., foreign trade and shipping john hays hammond, consulting engineer edward r. hardy, ph.b., fire insurance warren f. hickernell, ph.d., business conditions solomon s. huebner, ph.d., marine insurance charles w. hurd, business correspondence jeremiah w. jenks, ph.d., ll.d., relation of government to business joseph french johnson, d.c.s., ll.d., economic problems; business ethics walter s. johnson, b.a., b.c.l., commercial law edward d. jones, ph.d., investments john g. jones, sales management dexter s. kimball, a.b., m.e., cost finding; factory management bernard lichtenberg, m.c.s., advertising principles frank l. mcvey, ph.d., ll.d., economics john t. madden, b.c.s., c.p.a. (n. y.), accounting practice mac martin, advertising campaigns g. f. michelbacher, m.s., compensation and liability insurance t. vassar morton, litt.b., credit practice bruce d. mudgett, ph.d., life insurance e. l. stewart patterson, domestic and foreign exchange frederic e. reeve, c.p.a., accounting principles jesse h. riddle, m.a., banking frederick c. russell, b.c.s., auditing bernard k. sandwell, b.a., international finance william w. swanson, ph.d., money and banking john b. swinney, a.b., merchandising william h. walker, ll.d., corporation finance the law of success during the winter of 1883 a slim, studious young man was working as assistant foreman in a greasy little machine shop at aurora, illinois. he was saving money with a view to spending the next year at the state university, and he was devoting every minute of his spare time to thought and reading. he was not making much of a stir in the world, and only a few of his close friends ever gave a second thought to his ambitions or prospects. one of these friends was a newspaper reporter, a recent harvard graduate. he, too, was interested in study, especially of financial questions, and he found it a pleasure to guide the reading of the young foreman. many an evening the two friends spent in the discussion of great economic and financial problems. though both men had their ambitions and dreams, it did not occur to either one that he would ever play a big part in solving these problems. a few years later the harvard graduate became financial editor of the _chicago tribune_ and brought in the younger man as his assistant. during their years of newspaper work together they continued to study and think, and their knowledge of business principles and methods gradually broadened. they were fitting themselves almost without knowing it to step forward into positions of leadership. today, the former reporter is the head of a great university school of commerce; the assistant foreman became the president of the largest bank in the united states. one of these men is joseph french johnson, now dean of the new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance. the other is frank a. vanderlip, the great financier. the life histories of most men who have succeeded in a large way are equally simple. they have looked ahead, they have planned, they have equipped themselves with all the business knowledge available, and success has followed. _success must follow._ the law of success is as definite as the law of gravity. here it is: _prepare in advance for opportunities._ it is not the dramatic moments of life that count. it is the quiet planning and reading of the man who is getting ready now for what is going to happen two, five or ten years from now. chapter i the modern business course and service as dean of new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance, joseph french johnson had for many years continually received letters requesting advice on what to read on business. these demands came not only from young men, but from mature and able executives, and sometimes even from the most successful business leaders. to all such requests dean johnson was obliged to reply that the only practical way to study the fundamental principles of business in a systematic manner was to attend the lectures in university schools of commerce. at that time the literature of business was scanty and for the most part of doubtful value. working alone, a man could get but little help in his efforts to widen and deepen his knowledge of business principles. it became evident that there was a great need for an organized, logical statement of the basic principles on which successful business is founded. it was determined to establish an institution which should meet the demand. after years of preparation the alexander hamilton institute was established in 1909. the name in selecting the name, it was agreed that none could be so suitable as that of alexander hamilton. hamilton is perhaps chiefly remembered for his masterly statesmanship; but he was equally conspicuous as soldier, financier, author, organizer and practical economist. he was without doubt the greatest manager ever employed by the united states government. when he became the first secretary of the treasury, he found a chaotic government, without money, without credit, and without organization. he secured order, provided funds and created prosperity. he investigated the industries and directed the early commercial development of the united states. "he touched the dead corpse of the public credit, and it sprang upon its feet. he smote the rock of the nation's resources and abundant streams of revenue gushed forth." hamilton was a great executive and systematizer; he himself worked out an accounting system for the united states government which, with but slight modifications, remained in force for more than a hundred years. the plan the modern business course and service is a systematic, time-saving method of bringing to any man's office or home that business knowledge and training which he needs, but which he cannot acquire through his own experience. it is designed for the benefit of two groups of men: (1) those who already are in executive or semi-executive positions; (2) young men who have brains and the ambition to become business executives. it is intended, in general, for the men who are looking and moving ahead; for live, keen-witted, energetic men; for men who are not satisfied to remain in the ranks or in subordinate positions. these men may or may not have had a thorough school and college training; that is not an essential. they may or may not have wealth and high position; that is unimportant. but they _must_ have ability and enough serious purpose to spend a portion of their spare time in reading and thinking about business problems. the organization the modern business course and service is conducted by an organization made up of business and professional men and of university specialists in business subjects. inasmuch as such an institution derives its strength almost wholly from the men who are identified with it, a complete list of these men, with brief biographical notes to show who they are and what they have accomplished, is given in chapter vii, on pages 97 to 118. the institute organization consists of four groups: advisory council authors and collaborators special lecturers institute staff _a._ consultant staff _b._ administrative staff business and educational authority of the highest standing is represented in the advisory council of the institute. _this advisory council_ consists of frank a. vanderlip, the financier; t. coleman dupont, the business executive; john hays hammond, the eminent engineer; joseph french johnson, dean of the new york university school of commerce; and jeremiah w. jenks, the statistician and economist. the council has general supervision and direction of the policies and activities of the institute. no important move of any kind is made without the sanction of this body. _the authors and collaborators_ are men prominent in educational and business circles. as authors, co-authors and collaborators they are responsible for the modern business volumes. their writing is done under the guidance and with the cooperation of the institute's editorial board. each one is chosen because of his particular training and ability in the field he covers. _the special lecturers_, whose business connections are stated on pages 111 to 118, are men of high commercial standing who have devoted time and thought to preparing written lectures for the modern business course and service. these lectures present some of the results of their successful business experience. _the institute staff_ actively conducts the modern business course and service. many of the members of the staff are also members of the faculties of university schools of commerce. every member of the staff is a specialist who in some one business subject is entitled to rank as an authority. their names, business and university connections and official duties in the institute are stated on pages 100 to 110. (a) _the consultant staff_ are the experts who do not give their entire time to the institute, but who are called upon for special information and advice whenever the occasion requires. (b) _the administrative staff_ consists of the senior and junior executives who are active in the administrative work of the organization. these men are heads of the departments responsible for the successful management of the alexander hamilton institute. subjects covered the modern business course and service brings to a subscriber the essential business knowledge that he does not acquire in his own experience. the subject matter of the course and service is treated under the following 24 heads: 1. business and the man 2. economics--the science of business 3. business organization 4. plant management 5. marketing and merchandising 6. salesmanship and sales management 7. advertising principles 8. office administration 9. accounting principles 10. credit and collections 11. business correspondence 12. cost finding 13. advertising campaigns 14. corporation finance 15. transportation 16. foreign trade and shipping 17. banking 18. international exchange 19. insurance 20. the stock and produce exchanges 21. accounting practice and auditing 22. financial and business statements 23. investments 24. business and the government simple, elastic, workable the modern business course and service covers the essential subjects on which every business man should be well informed. when an enrolment is accepted, the institute undertakes, 1. _to supply the subscriber_ with the modern business text--the most complete and best organized treatment of business principles and practice that has yet been produced. 2. _to guide and illuminate_ his reading of the text by a series of modern business talks. 3. _to bring him into touch_ with the ideas and methods of some of the foremost business and professional men in the country through a series of modern business lectures. 4. _to give him facilities_ for applying and testing his knowledge of business principles through a series of modern business problems. 5. _to keep him informed_ on current business events and the trend of future affairs in the commercial world by means of monthly letters on business conditions. 6. _to acquaint him_ with important events covering the production and prices of general commodities and the current security market. 7. _to supply_ him with four modern business reports on important problems; the reports to be selected by him from an extensive list. 8. _to render personal service_ through answers to all inquiries in connection with his reading of the course. an enrolment for the modern business course and service covers a period of two years. during that time each subscriber is constantly in touch with the members of the institute staff. there are no rigid rules--no red tape--to restrict or annoy; instead, there is personal guidance and sincere cooperation. the more carefully you consider the plan, the more clearly you will see how well it is adapted to the needs of busy men who must make every minute and every ounce of effort produce the greatest possible results. you will see more clearly the actual scope of the modern business course and service if you keep in view its eight main features: 1--text 2--talks 3--lectures 4--problems 5--monthly letters 6--financial and trade reviews 7--reports 8--service 1--text the basis of the course and service is a series of twenty-four text-books prepared under the careful supervision of its editors, assisted by well-known authorities. in some cases the latter appear as authors, in others as collaborators in the preparation of the texts. dean joseph french johnson is editor-in-chief of the course. the managing editor is dr. roland p. falkner. associated with them is a large editorial staff which takes an active share in the writing and preparation of the course. the authors and collaborators are specialists who rank as authorities in their particular field. the series is widely recognized as the most important contribution yet made to business literature. the volumes in the modern business series are sold apart from the institute course only to universities for use as prescribed text-books in classroom work. among the universities which have used the institute's volumes as texts are: boston university brown university cedar crest college coe college college of the city of new york college of william and mary colorado college columbia university cornell university dartmouth college denver university drake university duquesne university elmira college georgetown university georgia school of technology grinnell college kansas state agricultural college lawrence college marquette university miami university middlebury college new hampshire college new york university northwestern university ohio state university ohio university oregon agricultural college pennsylvania state college purdue university queens university rose polytechnic institute south dakota state college state college of washington syracuse university toledo university trinity college tulane university vanderbilt university virginia polytechnic institute university of alabama university of akron university of arizona university of british columbia university of california university of chicago university of cincinnati university of colorado university of illinois university of indiana university of iowa university of kansas university of michigan university of minnesota university of nebraska university of oregon university of pittsburgh university of texas university of washington university of wisconsin washington and lee university yale university there are about three hundred and fifty pages in each of the twenty-four volumes. each volume is carefully indexed and contains, in addition to the text, a few review suggestions after each chapter which are of great value in mastering the subject. questions of commercial law as they affect each subject are discussed in the volume pertaining to that particular unit of the course. _business and the man_ _volume 1_ by joseph french johnson, d.c.s., ll.d., dean of new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance; chairman of the advisory council, alexander hamilton institute. _economics--the science of business_ _volume 2_ by joseph french johnson, d.c.s., ll.d., in collaboration with frank l. mcvey, ph.d., ll.d., president, university of kentucky. _business organization_ _volume 3_ by charles w. gerstenberg, ph.b., ll.b., professor of finance, and head of the department of finance, new york university school of commerce, with the collaboration of walter s. johnson, b.a., b.c.l., member of the bar of the province of quebec, lecturer on railway and constitutional law, mcgill university. _plant management_ _volume 4_ by dexter s. kimball, a.b., m.e., dean, engineering college, cornell university. _marketing and merchandising_ _volume 5_ prepared by the alexander hamilton institute in collaboration with ralph starr butler, a.b., advertising manager of the united states rubber company, and john b. swinney, a.b., superintendent of merchandising, winchester stores. _salesmanship and sales management_ _volume 6_ by john g. jones, vice-president and director of sales and advertising, alexander hamilton institute. _advertising principles_ _volume 7_ by herbert f. debower, ll.b., vice-president, alexander hamilton institute. _office administration_ _volume 8_ by geoffrey s. childs, b.c.s., office manager of the alexander hamilton institute. _accounting principles_ _volume 9_ by frederic e. reeve, c.p.a., and frederick c. russell, controller, alexander hamilton institute. _credit and collections_ _volume 10_ by dwight e. beebe, b.l., director of service of the alexander hamilton institute, and t. vassar morton, litt.b., bursar, alexander hamilton institute. _business correspondence_ _volume 11_ by charles w. hurd, associate editor, alexander hamilton institute, in collaboration with bruce barton, president, barton, durstine & osborn, inc. _cost finding_ _volume 12_ by dexter s. kimball, m.e., dean, engineering college, cornell university. _advertising campaigns_ _volume 13_ by mac martin, president of the mac martin advertising agency. _corporation finance_ _volume 14_ by william h. walker, ll.d., dean of duquesne university school of accounts, finance and commerce. _transportation_ _volume 15_ by edwin j. clapp, ph.d., formerly professor of economics, new york university. _foreign trade and shipping_ _volume 16_ by j. anton dehaas, ph.d., professor of foreign trade, new york university. _banking_ _volume 17_ by major b. foster, m.a., assistant to the executive committee, alexander hamilton institute, in collaboration with jesse h. riddle. _international exchange_ _volume 18_ prepared by the alexander hamilton institute in collaboration with e. l. stewart patterson, superintendent of the eastern townships branches, canadian bank of commerce. _insurance_ _volume 19_ prepared by the alexander hamilton institute, in collaboration with edward r. hardy, ph.b., lecturer on fire insurance, new york university school of commerce, assistant manager, new york fire insurance exchange; s. s. huebner, ph.d., professor of insurance, university of pennsylvania; g. f. michelbacher, m.a., actuary of the national workmen's compensation service bureau, and bruce d. mudgett, ph.d., associate professor of economics, university of minnesota. _the stock and produce exchanges_ _volume 20_ by albert w. atwood, a.b., associate in journalism, columbia university. _accounting practice and auditing_ _volume 21_ by john thomas madden, b.c.s., c.p.a. (n. y.), professor of accounting and head of the department of accounting, new york university school of commerce. _financial and business statements_ _volume 22_ by leo greendlinger, m.c.s., c.p.a. (n. y.), secretary and treasurer, alexander hamilton institute; formerly assistant professor of accounting, new york university school of commerce. _investments_ _volume 23_ by edward d. jones, ph.d., formerly professor of commerce and industry, university of michigan. _business and the government_ _volume 24_ by jeremiah w. jenks, ph.d., ll.d., research professor of government and public administration, new york university, member of advisory council, chairman of the board, alexander hamilton institute, in collaboration with john hays hammond, consulting engineer and publicist. 2--talks the modern business talks, which are sent fortnightly, are informal discussions of the principles treated in the text. as the name indicates, these talks bring up many specific points and cases, and show more clearly why and how the underlying principles of scientific business should be applied. they are particularly direct, practical and stimulating. their periodic visits serve to keep every subscriber in touch with the institute staff and alive to the importance of following the course systematically. the talks are prepared by members of the institute staff or other authorities. in the pamphlet which contains the talk the reading assignment for the following two weeks is suggested. on receiving the fortnightly instalment of new material, the subscriber will ordinarily read the talk before taking up the reading assignment, and thus get a bird's-eye view of the ground that is to be covered during the succeeding two weeks. some of the subjects discussed are: _the shortest way to the executive's chair_ _the market value of brains_ _sharing the product_ _pitfalls of partnership_ _a corporate venture_ _putting the message across_ _the dominance of salesmanship_ _leading the sales force_ _credit, the motive power of business_ _cost records as profit makers_ _overcoming corporation difficulties_ _the hundred thousand dollar letter_ _making advertising pay_ _the railway a public servant_ _building up your bank credit_ _cashing in on foreign trade_ _safeguards of insurance_ _what do you know about wall street?_ _the benefits of speculation_ _capitalizing the auditor's viewpoint_ _basing decisions on facts_ _reading accounting records_ _saving salesmen_ _holding the watch on your investment_ _satisfying your foreign customer_ 3--lectures the written modern business lectures, which are sent to subscribers monthly during the two-year course, have been especially prepared for the institute by eminent business executives, publicists and accountants, and reflect the experience of these men in successfully handling business problems. they are intended, first, to show how these men have actually applied the principles discussed in the modern business course; second, to give further information as to large and highly developed business concerns and their methods; and, third, to bring subscribers into closer touch with the wide circle of representative, successful men of affairs. some of the subjects of the lectures are: _essentials of a successful enterprise_ _the value of trade associations_ _marketing a nationally advertised product_ _retail store management_ _the creation of a selling organisation_ _efficient credit management_ _organising an accounting department_ _cost and efficiency records_ _marketability of securities_ _building a mail-order business_ _elements of effective advertising_ _the railway as a business developer_ _selling in foreign markets_ _how banks serve business_ _the foreign exchange field_ _the day's work in wall street_ _why business needs the auditor_ _the investment security business_ 4--problems one of the strongest features of the course is the series of twenty-four problems--such problems as accountants, financiers, bankers and business managers meet in practice--especially prepared for the course by members of the institute staff. each problem is a carefully worded statement of all the essential factors in some business situation; in other words, the situation is presented and described just as it might be in the report of a subordinate official to the head of a business enterprise. the problems are so arranged as to correspond closely to the assigned reading. for instance, after the subject of cost accounts has been discussed, a problem is given in which a knowledge of cost accounting principles is called for. thus, the problems serve not merely to test the subscriber's understanding and thinking power, but also to fix in his mind and make definite the statements and principles contained in the text volumes. when solutions to the problems are sent in, they are criticised, graded, and returned with suggestions for further study. solutions to the problems are not, however, required. some of the titles are: _the president's choice_ _advertising the ayer-hall saws_ _remodeling the rowland-johnson company's sales organization_ _a question of profits and financial condition_ _three foreign exchange situations_ _scudder's system to beat the market_ _the reorganisation of the industrial realty company_ _embarking in foreign trade_ _a fire and its consequences_ 5--monthly letter on business conditions a business executive must have a knowledge of the fundamental principles relating to the internal organization and management of a business. he should also have a basis of judging those external business conditions over which no one group of men has control, but to the trend of which every line of business must be adjusted in order to gain the maximum of profit and suffer the minimum of loss. the results of these studies are presented to the business man in a clear and concise manner in the monthly letter on business conditions. in order to keep subscribers informed regarding the state of business at home and abroad, and as a basis for applying the principles explained in the text, the monthly letters will prove most helpful. the economic experts of our business conditions bureau are constantly bringing together and interpreting facts and figures regarding bank clearings, pig iron production, unfilled steel orders, exports and imports, railroad earnings, and such indices of financial conditions as the reserves, loans and deposits of the federal reserve banks. the letters discuss political events and developments in the business world which have an influence upon price movements and conditions of activity or depression. the business man will find them particularly interesting, as they show him what to expect in the future by pointing out the present trend of affairs. 6--financial and trade reviews the financial and trade reviews are issued monthly by our bureau of business conditions and are designed to cover in a timely and interesting fashion the activities in the security market by analyzing individual and group securities and by presenting statistics on prices and earnings of standard stocks and bonds. the reviews cover the production and price trends of basic commodities and matters of interest in foreign fields. leading articles deal with current events of note and interest to the business community. the financial and trade review is a valuable supplement to the principles brought out in the regular reading schedule. 7--modern business reports the modern business reports are written by professional and trade experts and members of the institute staff, and cover both important business problems of general interest and technical subjects relating to accounting, sales, office methods, merchandising, production and other specialized departments. from time to time a descriptive list of these reports is sent to each subscriber. from these lists the subscriber may choose four reports at any time during the two-year period of his enrolment. these reports run from ten to fifty pages in length. each one is prepared in reference to some specific problem and is the result of special investigation. the subjects cover a wide field, and every subscriber will find among them a number which are of particular interest to him. the list of reports includes such titles as: _preparation for the accounting profession_ _profit sharing_ _territorial supervision of salesmen_ _advertising american goods in foreign markets_ _analysis of bank reports_ _promotion and organization of a public service corporation_ _the psychology and strategy of collecting_ _desk efficiency_ _how to read the financial page of a newspaper_ _employes' pension systems_ _evaluation of public utilities_. 8--service the reading matter of the modern business course is in itself of remarkable value; subscribers have told us over and over again that one volume, or sometimes one pamphlet, or one report, has brought them ideas worth vastly more than the fee for the course and service. this value is largely enhanced by the fact that back of the reading matter there is an organization of men who are anxious to cooperate in every way possible with each subscriber. this organization is equipped to render service at every stage of the subscriber's progress. first of all, certain members of the staff are assigned to the pleasant task of carrying on correspondence with subscribers. they make an earnest effort whenever a new enrolment is received to get into touch with the subscriber and learn under what conditions he is working, what experience and education he has had and what objects he has in view. with this information before them they can often make suggestions that are directly helpful and that mean a larger increase in the subscriber's personal benefit from his use of the course and service. furthermore, every one who thinks as he reads comes across statements and opinions which he does not fully understand or which he questions. the privilege of asking about any such statements or opinions is freely open to all subscribers. there is no limit whatever to the number of questions which may be submitted, based on the text or other reading matter of the course. the four great activities of business there are four fundamental activities in every business--production, marketing, financing, and accounting. on the following page you will see the whole field of business charted in such a way as to show clearly the relation of various business activities to each other. economics, the study of business conditions and business policies, is the hub of all business activity. radiating from it are the four grand divisions of business--production, marketing, financing, accounting. these in turn are subdivided into the more detailed activities which they include. the modern business course and service is a thorough treatment of all the divisions indicated. [illustration: economics accounting accounting principles financial and business statement accounting practice and auditing finance corporation finance banking credit and collections business organization insurance the stock and produce exchanges international exchange investments production marketing copyright 1921, by alexander hamilton institute] a survey of modern business science all business activities may be classified under production, marketing, financing and accounting. for purposes of systematic study, each of these may be subdivided as shown above. in addition, there are two important forces which control business--man and government. for that reason a discussion of the relation between "business and the man" and "business and the government" naturally forms a part of the survey of modern business. the first two and the last two assignments in the modern business course and service cover these important subjects. the arrangement of the subjects has been carefully planned so that the maximum benefit will be derived by following the assignments in their regular order. in the chart you see the logical arrangement of these subjects as related to the business world. note that the order in which these subjects are treated in the course is not according to their arrangement in the chart. on the contrary, the more general subjects are first considered; then come the more complex--the specializations and enlargements upon the foundation subjects. this plan permits a progressive arrangement that makes for a broad understanding of the science of business. just as any university or college requires a knowledge of certain subjects before others can be taken up, because this more general knowledge is essential to a proper understanding of the more advanced, so we have arranged the subjects treated in the modern business course and service in a similar manner. texts, talks, lectures, problems, monthly letters, financial and trade reviews, reports and service--these are the important features of the modern business course and service. chapter ii the danger of specializing too early a great many young men think they have found a quick and easy road to success by concentrating their minds wholly on the jobs they happen to hold. it is perfectly true that a business man must not underestimate the importance of details. but it is also true that large success is always built upon a clear understanding of basic principles. the common fallacy that it is best for a man--especially a young man--to confine his thought and studies to his own specialty has in many instances proved ruinous. it is easily possible to specialize so much as to lose all sense of the importance of a broad, well-balanced business training. we all know the lawyer who is wrapped up in his quibbles; the accountant who sees nothing in business but a maze of figures; the advertising man who is so fascinated by "cleverness" that he forgets to try to sell goods; and the technical man who knows nothing about the commercial phases of his engineering problems. such men cannot take their places among the higher executives because they know little or nothing of business outside their own specialty, and they cannot know even that thoroughly while their general outlook remains so narrow. only half ready some years ago two young men of unusual promise graduated from a prominent school of mines and went to work for a big copper company as full-fledged mining engineers. they were located at an isolated camp, remote from civilization, and were given every chance to make good the prediction made for them at the time of graduation. these men soon proved that they knew a great deal about the mining of copper. their advancement was rapid, and within a comparatively short time one of them was appointed general manager and the other chief engineer. to all intents and purposes they were in complete charge of the company's interests in that locality. it was not long before the problems put up to these two mining experts ceased to be confined to the technical end of the business. the handling of a large number of men, the disposition of big sums of money, the necessity of using both men and money economically, the accounting and statistics of their operations, and a hundred other problems no less "practical" demanded the exercise of judgment on their part and a knowledge of business principles that neither their technical training nor their previous experience had supplied. unfortunately, these two--the general manager and the chief engineer--had their heads turned by their rapid advancement. they did not recognize the fact that a thorough business training would have made them well-nigh failure-proof, and they even expressed contempt for scientific study of such subjects as accounting, banking, organization, cost finding, selling and finance. in course of time the operations of the company made necessary the extension of its mining facilities, involving the erection of a concentrator and smelter at an expenditure of a little over $2,000,000. these men were in charge of selecting and arranging for the sites and erection of the plants. the work had gone forward to a considerable extent when one of the executive officers of the company from the east came to inspect the properties and the progress of the new work. he was so disappointed at the lack of business judgment displayed in the selection of the sites, the drawing of contracts and other matters, that he dismissed the chief engineer on the spot, and curtailed the authority of the general manager. he stated that thereafter he would select men who had some business as well as technical training. these men missed success because they lacked certain essential tools with which to build it. equipped with an elaborate professional kit gathered through years of painstaking study, they still lacked that knowledge of business principles which was necessary to enable them to turn their technical knowledge into results. every one who holds, or expects ever to hold, a position of business responsibility should be familiar with the whole field of modern business. the reasons for this are apparent to any one who has to do with the handling of large problems. it is necessary always to take into account _all_ the important factors in such problems. no matter how ably a marketing or an accounting difficulty may be met, the solution is worse than useless if it affects unfavorably any other phase of the business. a business executive cannot afford to make many serious mistakes. to guard against mistakes, he must be fortified with an all-round knowledge of business practice--not merely a partial or one-sided knowledge. the principles of production, marketing, financing and accounting are fundamental and apply to all lines of business. the man who says they do not apply because his business is "different" is simply exposing his failure to get down to rock bottom in his thinking. every business has its points of difference, just as every man has an individuality of his own. but we know that human nature, broadly speaking, is much the same in all. in a like sense all business moves along similar lines. it all consists of producing, marketing, financing and accounting. the broad principles of modern business science, therefore, govern all business. they are related to _your_ problems, no matter how "different" your business may appear to be on the surface. chapter iii pushing beyond the half-way mark there is always a danger of half-way success. a man may be at the head of an office, a department, a sales force, or a business, and yet be only a half-way success, if what he has so far accomplished be measured against his actual capacity. most men, in fact, possess native ability sufficient to carry them forward into bigger positions than those they now occupy. but to accomplish that result it is necessary to keep continually moving ahead. chief among the characteristics that carry men past the half-way mark on the road to success is eagerness to keep on learning more about business principles and business methods. the late marshall field said: "the man who puts ten thousand dollars additional capital into an established business is pretty certain of increased returns; and in the same way the man who puts additional capital into his brains--information, well directed thought and study of possibilities--will as surely--yes, more surely--get increased returns. there is no capital and no increase of capital safer and surer than that." the ablest men in business are constant students. many of the foremost business executives of the united states have for this reason welcomed an opportunity to enrol for the modern business course and service. this course and service brings to them in convenient, time-saving form, an explanation of working principles that have proved successful in every line of business. the kind of men enrolled presidents of big corporations are often enrolled for the modern business course and service along with ambitious younger men in their employ. among the 145,000 subscribers are such men as: h. s. kimball, president of the remington arms corporation john j. arnold, president of the bankers' union of foreign commerce and finance e. r. behrend, president of the hammermill paper company h. c. osborn, president, american multigraph sales company melville w. mix, president of the dodge manufacturing company william h. ingersoll, marketing manager of robt. h. ingersoll and brothers charles e. hires, president, hires root beer company p. w. litchfield, vice-president of the goodyear tire and rubber company ezra hershey, treasurer, hershey chocolate company william a. candler, secretary, coca-cola company george m. verity, president, american rolling mill company charles e. murnan, vice-president, united drug company w. f. macglashan, president, the beaver board companies h. d. carter, general manager, regal shoe company francis a. countway, president of lever brothers company (_manufacturers of lux and lifebuoy soap_) e. e. amick, vice-president, first national bank of kansas city raymond w. stevens, vice-president, illinois life insurance company roy w. howard, chairman of the board of directors, scripps-mcrae newspapers stephen b. mambert, vice-president, thomas a. edison industries s. l. avery, president, united states gypsum company --and scores of others equally prominent. these men, and thousands of other institute subscribers, know that a study of the principles which have brought unusual success to other men increases their own capacity for further achievement. great business organizations officers, department heads and juniors of a large number of important companies are enrolled for the modern business course and service. the prime purpose of the course and service is to develop the business knowledge and judgment of each subscriber, and the heads of these companies realize that the increased efficiency on the part of individuals which results from this training carries with it greater efficiency and profits for their companies. the tendency in large business organizations, unless the chief executives are unusually thoughtful and far-sighted, is to repress initiative and constructive thinking except on the part of the few men who direct the affairs. the modern business course and service counteracts this tendency. it encourages thought and initiative. it develops men. it stimulates the whole organization and makes possible more rapid expansion and larger earnings. among the progressive concerns in which a number of men have been making effective use of the modern business course and service are: _men enrolled_ american radiator company 65 american telephone and telegraph company 139 anaconda copper mining company 75 armour and company 184 bank of montreal 84 barrett company 68 bethlehem steel company 200 burroughs adding machine company 199 canadian bank of commerce 143 commonwealth edison company of chicago 106 cutler-hammer manufacturing company 75 e. i. dupont de nemours and company 529 eastman kodak company 61 empire gas and fuel company 144 equitable life assurance society 114 fairbanks-morse and company 68 federal reserve bank of dallas 61 firestone tire and rubber company 164 fisk rubber company 107 ford motor company 353 general electric company 669 general motors corporation 802 b. f. goodrich company 256 goodyear tire and rubber company 439 international harvester company 122 johns-manville, inc 123 jones and loughlin steel company 55 national biscuit company 64 national cash register company 207 national city bank of new york 210 newport mining company 114 new york central railroad company 107 new york telephone company 138 otis elevator company 92 pacific commercial company 106 pacific telephone and telegraph company 105 packard motor car company 153 pennsylvania railroad company 228 proctor and gamble company 75 public service corporation of new jersey 68 remington typewriter company 96 sears, roebuck and company 84 singer manufacturing company 58 southern pacific railway company 90 standard oil company 954 the steel company of canada 51 stone and webster engineering corporation 125 studebaker corporation 97 swift and company 127 texas company 221 underwood typewriter company 77 united fruit company 78 united shoe machinery company 95 united states rubber company 265 united states steel corporation 771 western electric company 254 western union telegraph company 291 westinghouse electric and manufacturing company 501 willys-overland company 191 winchester repeating arms company 211 f. w. woolworth company 81 many of the men enrolled in these great companies are heads of their organizations; presidents and vice-presidents. most of them are important officials and department heads; a few are men with smaller responsibilities. the sound business reason which underlies the favorable action of so many great corporations is well expressed by president george m. verity, of the american rolling mill company, who says: "when i learned that some fifty of our men had decided to take up the modern business course and service, the stock of this company rose several points in my estimation." the following expressions regarding the value of the course to men in big corporations are typical of many that we have received: "we have been familiar with your course of instruction ever since it was first offered, and regard it as an excellent one for men engaged in the investment security business. a large number of our men are taking the course, and we have recommended it to many of our associates." spencer trask & company, _investment bankers, new york city._ "realizing my lack of experience, i subscribed to your course and found it of incalculable value. it gave me quickly the fundamentals of accounting, of which i had known nothing. it gave me a broad elementary insight into modern marketing methods. the volume on credits was also helpful. the course saved me many expensive blunders. "briefly, for one starting in a business of his own i consider the alexander hamilton institute course practically indispensable. in addition to its indirect value, i have been able to put a definite worth on this course, to myself and the firm, of many thousands of dollars." j. roy allen, _treasurer, mint products company, inc., mfrs. of "life savers."_ "the good that our people have received from the alexander hamilton institute course has been phenomenal. it is not only the most instructive and valuable treatise on live subjects for men who are training for business careers, but it is the most concise, instructive and clearly presented form of education, to our minds, that has been presented for the benefit of executives." charles e. murnan, _vice-president, united drug company, boston._ "in my long business experience i have never subscribed to anything from which i have received greater value, in which i have taken greater interest, and from which i have received greater inspiration for my work. i do not believe anyone can take up the work without finding it not only effective, but of great value." charles e. hires, _president, hires root beer company, philadelphia._ "my appreciation of the alexander hamilton institute course is based not only upon the broad scope of its appeal and the close co-ordination of the subjects treated, but also from the benefit that i have personally derived from following the course." stephen b. mambert, _vice-president and financial director, thomas a. edison industries._ "it seems to me that your modern business course affords an opportunity for the study of practical business methods and the acquisition of business knowledge which will be valuable to any man ambitious to succeed in business." f. w. hills, _comptroller, american smelting and refining co., new york._ "we had two building sites in view. when it came to a final decision i applied the principles which were laid down in the course; it became clear at once that the first site--which had originally seemed so attractive--was actually less desirable for our purposes. "knowing the fundamental principles, it was a simple matter to analyze the various requirements of this business step by step; as a result of this analysis we have a site even more suitable than the one originally contemplated; and we were able to buy it not merely on more favorable terms, but at an actual saving of more than $82,000." george h. borst, _president, twentieth century storage warehouse, philadelphia._ "my experience with the alexander hamilton institute leaves me only with the regret that i did not make contact with it at an earlier time." samuel g. mcmeen, _president, columbus railway and light company, columbus._ "i have been looking for something of this kind for some time past and am more than pleased that this should be brought to my attention." r. c. norberg, _general sales manager, willard storage battery company, cleveland._ "the exceedingly interesting manner in which the subjects are treated was an agreeable surprise to me. i became so absorbed in the reading that i am reluctant to lay it down when bed-time or meal-time arrives." v. j. faeth, _general manager, winterroth & co., piano merchants, new york city._ the unqualified indorsements of these successful executives, and the fact that a large number of men in almost every nationally known organization are enrolled, prove conclusively that there is a great need for training in business fundamentals. wherever the wheel of business turns--the need is great. it is a matter to be reckoned with by every man and concern in business. chapter iv a personal problem how is it possible that the modern business course and service should be helpful alike to the grizzled executive and to the young man who has not yet made his mark in business? why is it that in a great many organizations our list of subscribers begins with the president, includes practically all the officers and department heads, and ends with a selected group of men who as yet are in subordinate positions? the answer is simple. the main problem of every business man is the problem of developing himself. it makes no difference how great or how small a man's position may be, the only way to enlarge his influence and his income is first to enlarge himself. the greatest business men in the country are quickest to accept and apply this truth. it may sometimes appear as though a man becomes a bigger business man by being promoted into a bigger job. the truth is just the reverse. the big job naturally gravitates to the well-trained, capable man. if the job proves too large for the man, it doesn't take long for it to shrivel until it becomes a perfect fit. on the other hand, a man who really becomes bigger than his job simply grows out of it and into another; or he enlarges the job and its rewards to fit his measure. where do you belong? you are a member of one or the other of these two groups: (1) those who have "arrived" (2) those who are on their way toward success. there is, to be sure, a third group which unfortunately constitutes an overwhelming majority, the group made up of purposeless drifters who have no special ambitions and usually little native ability. to this group the institute has nothing to offer. they might refuse indignantly to sign a contract to work for the next ten years at the same salary they are now receiving. yet the end of the ten-year period will find most of them in the same position, or only a trifle ahead. find _your_ place and salary on this chart +------------------+ | president | | or | | general manager | |$15,000 to $30,000| +---------+--------+ | +-------------------+---------+---------+-------------------+ | | | | +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ | vice-president | | vice-president | | comptroller | | treas. & sec'y | | in charge of | | in charge of | | in charge of | | in charge of | | production | | marketing | | accounts | | finance | |$8,000 to $15,000| |$8,000 to $15,000| |$8,000 to $15,000| |$8,000 to $15,000| +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ | | | | above this line are men who understand the fundamentals underlying all departments of business =============================================================================== below are the $1,800 and $4,000 men who by systematically training themselves can climb higher | | | | +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ | _staff of_ | | _staff of_ | | _staff of_ | | _staff of_ | | cost department | |sales advertising| | accounting and | | credit and | | factory and | | correspondence | | statistical | | insurance | | office force | | and | | departments | | finance and | | | | transportation | | | | investment | | | | dept's | | | | departments | +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ +--------+--------+ for there is only one power in the world that can lift a man, and that is the power of added knowledge and training. for years the alexander hamilton institute has specialized in one thing; it has only one course; its sole business is to take men who know one department of business, and by adding to their equipment a knowledge of the other fundamentals shown on the chart on the preceding page, to fit them for higher positions. if you already have reached a business position of large responsibility, that surely does not mean that you have stopped growing. the boundless opportunities that are open to all are beckoning you on. no noteworthy business man attains his full development until he is well past middle age. in fact, the man of real power never appears to have reached his limit. your real achievements are still ahead of you. as you look over the pages following, you will see that the brainiest executives in the country are using the modern business course and service as equipment for still bigger undertakings. if you are still trudging in the ranks, or if you have advanced only part way toward your goal, you will be keenly interested in the comments of those who have found the modern business course and service an immense help in hastening their progress. these men are rapidly forging ahead. they are setting a faster and faster pace. unless you are able to keep up with them, you must drift to the rear. because the young men of this generation are getting a better training than has been available in previous generations, the standards of business ability have risen and will continue to rise. yesterday, a man of limited experience and training was often able to force his way into an executive position; today, it is much more difficult to do so; tomorrow, it will be impossible. the business leaders of a few short years from now will be the men who today are preparing themselves for the duties of leadership. your gains you may ask: "_what can the institute do for me?_" the answer to your question is outlined in the "chart of the modern business course and service" which is printed on page 49. that chart shows how the organized knowledge about business principles and business practice which has been collected and classified by the alexander hamilton institute is transmitted to subscribers through the eight features of the course and service--text, talks, lectures, problems, monthly letters, financial and trade reviews, reports, and service. _in what ways can a business man cash in on this knowledge?_ a great many direct and practical benefits that naturally follow the use of the modern business course and service might be cited. seven of the most important are shown in the chart on the following page. the most obvious and direct benefit consists in a better understanding of sound business principles. the other benefits shown on the chart are: ability to plan effectively increased confidence in handling big deals ability to make quicker and more accurate decisions more leisure for recreation and constructive thought increased ability to handle men insurance against mistakes. the inevitable results of these gains in personal power and efficiency are larger income and a greater success in business. [illustration: _chart of the modern business course and service_ organized business knowledge collected and classified by alexander hamilton institute organization (advisory council, staff and special lecturers) transmitted to subscribers thru reports lectures talks texts problems service monthly letters this knowledge assimilated by the wide-awake business man results in better understanding of business principles ability to plan more effectively increased confidence in handling big problems quicker and more accurate decisions more time for constructive thinking greater ability to handle men knowledge that prevents mistakes larger income and greater success in business ] note on the following pages what subscribers for the modern business course and service have to say in that connection. better understanding a man cannot go far in business unless he _thinks_. and he must not only think, but think straight. his conclusions must be based on sound principles. unless a man is thinking along right lines, he will have little initiative, and his judgment will be poor. the necessity for every live business man to understand the principles upon which modern business is based cannot be overstated. the modern business course and service gives that understanding. it illuminates points that were obscure and it answers many puzzling questions. it lights up the road ahead, so that the business man can see more clearly the path that he should take. mr. wm. h. ingersoll, marketing manager for the famous ingersoll watch, says that the modern business course and service "gives the first coherent presentation of the entire subject of business. it gives one a perspective and an appreciation of essentials, as well as much knowledge regarding right and wrong methods of procedure." as a fair example of the manner in which the modern business course and service stimulates thought and leads to progressive action, even in companies that already were well organized and highly successful, take the following note from mr. norman w. wilson, vice-president of the hammermill paper company: "every moment's time i have devoted to it has been well rewarded. i want you to know what a high regard i have for the work you are doing and to know that i make it a point to encourage our people here to study your course." mr. j. h. hansen, president of the j. h. hansen cadillac company of omaha, emphasizes the practical information that the modern business course and service has brought to him: "when i located in nebraska as a salesman for the cadillac automobile, a representative of the institute persuaded me that i might just as well try for the big prizes in business as for one of the mediocre ones. the decision to enrol in the modern business course and service was a turning-point in my life. "i knew something about selling already. but now i began to see business as a whole, and the relation of each department to it. advertising and costs; accounting and office organization; the control of men, and corporation finance--all these elements, which are necessary if a man is to succeed in business for himself, came to me with the institute's help. "when the opportunity arrived i was ready for it. we organized our company and the first year did more than a million dollar business. "in my judgment, the reason why so many men never get into business for themselves or fail after they do get in, is because they are not prepared for their opportunity when it comes." mr. h. c. smith, president, allith-prouty manufacturing company, chicago, states why the modern business course and service is helpful without being revolutionary: "all men who have been successful must be credited with having good business principles. your course does not require changing these principles, but it will broaden one's own ideas and enable him to get greater results." increased confidence a great many men accomplish less than their abilities and energy entitle them to accomplish, simply because they do not feel sure of themselves. the boldest man alive becomes uncertain and timid in the face of unfamiliar difficulties. the man who follows the modern business course and service becomes acquainted at close range with business difficulties as well as with tried methods of overcoming them; he learns how to tackle such difficulties and goes forward without fear or misgivings. the series of modern business problems which constitute an important feature of the modern business course and service is especially intended to cultivate familiarity with difficult business situations and thereby to create self-confidence. they are problems of the kind which executives are constantly meeting. the man who can solve them successfully should have no difficulty when he meets similar problems that arise in his own work. a better and broader grasp of the principles and practices that underlie all business also suggests ways of widening the scope of one's business activity and gives the necessary confidence to go ahead and do it. mr. john mcbride, of mcbride's theatre ticket office, new york, wrote us after completing the modern business course: "the average man can double his faith in himself in a few months if he will master the fundamentals of business through your training." mr. w. h. schmelzel, president of the w. h. schmelzel company, of st. paul, minnesota, wrote after he had followed the course: "it is my personal opinion that every young business man of today depends a great deal on consultation or advice from a successful and experienced adviser or friend on all matters of a business nature. "in the early days of my business experience i was confronted with the task of making decisions preparing myself for the problems i was to solve in the years to follow. having been born and raised in a small town in a western state, i was content with advice and consultation of my acquaintances in matters pertaining to the thoughts i wished to carry out. "i was, therefore, eager to obtain assistance from a corps of experts in their particular line, and after giving your modern business course considerable scrutiny, and being informed on the class of men, that i felt confident of their success, and i realized that such a course had merit, and one which i could afford to consult, advise with and build my future with ideas and methods you had so ably worked out." quicker decisions is the ability to decide things quickly an inborn faculty? no, it is largely a habit of mind which anyone may cultivate in himself. however, we must bear in mind that it is necessary not only to decide quickly; there must be very few mistakes. this requires a mind that is trained to grasp a situation and to think accurately as well as rapidly. _the secret of quick and accurate decision is knowledge of principles._ if a man knows what principle applies in handling a given case, he has no difficulty in making up his mind and deciding what to do. if the balance sheet of a given concern were laid before you and you were asked to decide at once (assuming that the figures were correct) whether to ship a $10,000 order of goods to that company, possibly you would not know what to say. but if you were familiar with the definite principles of accounting and finance which would enable you to analyze that balance sheet and make it yield a vivid picture of the financial condition of the concern, you would not hesitate a moment. you would reply instantly. what decision meant to this man a young man, whose name we are not at liberty to give, told us of a dramatic incident which illustrates the value that keen business men attach to preparedness and quick decisions. up to about a year ago this young man was head accountant for his company. the board of directors had been in session about an hour one afternoon when a messenger came to his desk and told him that he was wanted in the board room. as he entered the room the president snapped at him, "would you advise us to issue a block of collateral trust bonds to finance a new addition to our factory which will cost about $60,000?" "no," said the accountant, "the company's credit is good enough for an issue of $60,000 one to three-year notes without security. if necessary, the new building could be mortgaged after construction, and, at the present rate, the business could pay off the whole loan in five years." a rapid-fire series of questions followed, covering the financial, advertising and sales policy of the firm, to each of which the accountant gave concentrated thought, quick decision and convincing reply. the president's final question was, "how would you like to become treasurer of this company at $6,000 a year?" in the letter that told of this incident this subscriber said: "i don't know whether i owe most to you or to my friend in the carnegie steel company who urged me to enrol for your course and service. i could have answered few if any of the questions asked me without the knowledge i gained from it. i found out later that the president knew all the time i was following your course, and wanted to prove to the rest of the directors that i could intelligently consider and discuss business problems." mr. charles c. chase, in the advertising department of brown company, of portland, maine, brings out another method of securing help in deciding questions that are outside the scope of his previous experience. he says: "to the fellows who have asked me about the course and what i believe it will do for them, i have said: "through a subscription to the course of the alexander hamilton institute you not only ally yourself with a "board of directors" whose combined business experience probably amounts to at least five hundred successful years--a board the members of which have had specialized experience in every important phase of business--but who have been assembled for the very definite purpose of helping men." this method is equally valuable to the executive, according to mr. lynn p. talley, deputy governor of the federal reserve bank of dallas: "whenever i am confronted with a problem relating to fundamental economic conditions of business practice or business policy, i find great comfort and satisfaction in taking down the volume relating to the subject and always find elucidation of the problems that confront me." mr. james p. robertson, of smith, robertson and company, seattle, says: "as a general reading course on business i can truthfully say it is high grade, and can recommend it to anyone interested in the study of business." mr. a. e. winger, president, american lithographic company, writes: "i think your course is an excellent one and am particularly impressed with the underlying thought that i find throughout the entire course--application of principles. it has been my experience that sound judgment is the most essential requisite of any executive, and that the judgment required in business today can best be formed by a thorough knowledge of business principles." mr. samuel cochrane, president, cochrane chemical company, jersey city, sums up the argument in this remark: "if i had enrolled with you a year or two ago, i should be better able to handle the problems put up to me every day." more leisure the secret of leisure is not to do less work, but to organize work so that a greater volume can be handled in less time. no active man wishes to cut down his productive efforts. a great many men, however, are so tied to their business tasks by detail and routine that they have little time or energy left for constructive thought. frequently they do not get enough recreation and physical exercise to keep them in prime condition. as a result, they are frittering away the best years of their life in handling small details that never bring them anywhere. to a greater or lesser extent, this is true of all of us. how to escape from the time-wasting energy-absorbing routine and details is a vital question. being "swamped with too much detail" is in reality a kind of business disease--and a very dangerous one. it is most likely to attack the officers of rapidly expanding concerns and energetic, ambitious men who are constantly taking on new responsibilities. unless one can shake off this disease, it will probably go on eating away more and more of his time and energy until he loses his grip on large affairs and to his chagrin, sees other men of smaller ability rising above him. it is as bad for a man to be "too busy" as for him to be not busy enough. as a matter of fact, it is unnecessary for any man to be so harassed with details--except as a temporary condition--that he cannot give a reasonable amount of time to recreation, reading and thought. the company burdened by the detail-type of executive is not getting what it pays for. his natural abilities are being diverted to things that cheaper men could do equally well. he owes it to his company, as well as to himself, to reorganize his work. cutting out the details it is necessarily true in all such cases that many of the over-busy man's duties recur day after day. they are of a semi-routine nature and could be made wholly routine by giving the proper instructions to some one else. in other words, this is a problem of organization similar to that of organizing a factory, a store, or a body of men. the principles that are discussed in the modern business course and service apply to an individual just as well as to a company. a man can organize his desk very much on the same plan that he would organize a factory. when he does so, he invariably finds that his efficiency is increased, his work is more productive, and he himself has more leisure. accordingly, any business man who desires to forge ahead should reduce the details of his work to routine which can be carried on without special thought. the modern business course and service is a direct and invaluable aid to the man who feels himself tied down by details. of course, we must consider in this connection the man who thinks that he is much busier than he really is. there are spare moments in every man's day. there is the half-hour before or after the evening meal; the time spent in traveling to and from work; the one or two evenings a week that even the busiest man should spend at home. the measure of a man's chances of success may readily be taken by learning the manner in which he uses--or wastes--his spare time. no better use can be made of these odd moments than in reading the modern business course. this reading is not tiring; it is recreative and stimulating. it will enable any man to organize his work so as to increase his leisure for reading and study. it will help him to rise to a higher level where his thought and energy will be more productive. many of the big business executives are investing their spare moments in just this way. they realize the great results that are bound to follow. it is unquestionably true that the use of one's spare moments count heavily in determining how much will be accomplished a year or two hence. the following also give their opinion: "for a good many years as a practising mining engineer, i gradually began to realize that there was something wrong with engineers in regard to their business success. something that seemed to stand between the most brilliant of men and success in business. after a long study of men and conditions, i subscribed to your course. from then on i began to take greater responsibilities and larger fees because of my added confidence and business knowledge. i truly feel that your course ferried me across to that phase of professional grasp where i became successful in business as a professional engineer." glenville a. collins, _consulting engineer of seattle._ much the same thoughts are admirably expressed by another busy executive, mr. j. h. carter, vice-president, national city bank of new york: "you will no doubt be interested to know that the class formed under the auspices of the city bank club to follow the alexander hamilton institute course, which you helped start about two years ago last spring, is just completing its study. "the majority of the original enrolment of fifty members have followed the course regularly. it has held the interest of the men throughout and has proved unusually stimulating and interesting. "the official staff of the bank has given the class its hearty moral support, and, in addition, has offered to refund a part of the fee to those completing the course successfully. we feel that this policy has not only encouraged the men, but has benefited the bank as well. "personally, i cannot speak too highly of the course. i feel that the time i have given to it during the past few years could not have been employed to greater advantage." increased ability to handle men there are just two factors that determine a man's competence to direct the work of other men: 1. his superior knowledge of the work in hand. 2. his ability to command respect. as a matter of fact, the second factor is almost wholly included in the first. the man who really knows what he is talking about always commands respect. the man who is largely a "bluff," no matter how "magnetic" or forceful his personality, is soon found out and retired in favor of the man of smaller pretensions, but more knowledge. the history of almost any business success demonstrates the truth of this statement. modern business affairs are so complex that it is wholly out of the question to put an untrained man in command. one might as well talk of putting an untrained man in charge of a modern battleship. in both positions broad-gauge knowledge and judgment are absolutely essential. the same principle applies equally to the minor commands. the leading business men of the country are for the most part quiet, self-controlled men, who think before they speak and who are constantly studying business problems. this is the type of man best fitted to control and direct the work of others. the man who develops himself, develops his ability to handle men. through the modern business course and service the training can be secured that makes for self-development and for success. t. h. bailey whipple, of the publicity department of the westinghouse electric company, writes: "your course unquestionably does for men what experience and native ability alone can never do." mr. g. e. lucas, office efficiency engineer, sayles finishing plants, says: "i am indeed glad that i took the opportunity to enrol for the modern business course and service. what i have obtained has been of very material benefit to me. my own experience bears on the experience of my other colleagues who have been getting help and information from you in the past two years. all the reports that we have obtained have been thoroughly satisfactory and very complete." the experience of mr. s. g. mcmeen, president, columbus railway power and light company, columbus, ohio, is equally to the point: "my experience began many years ago in technical lines and continued along them to engineering and construction practice. as often happens, this technical work led me into executive matters. it was in them that i missed some of the advantages enjoyed by men who have specialized earlier in commercial and financial work. "naturally i formed a habit of appropriating the needed knowledge wherever i might find it, and found much more than i could assimilate. the long-felt need, therefore, was for a source of classified information for reference and study, a source of training by the use of intelligent problems and a source of advice to which i might turn when in doubt. this source i found in the volumes, periodical literature and service of the alexander hamilton institute." larger income and success as the diagram on page 49 indicates, the seven direct aids which subscribers obtain from the modern business course and service are: 1. better understanding of business principles 2. ability to plan more effectively 3. increased confidence in handling big problems 4. quicker and more accurate decisions 5. more time for constructive thinking 6. greater ability to handle men 7. knowledge that prevents mistakes all of these aids to personal efficiency are bound to result in increased income and greater success. even though a man should gain only slightly in any one of the seven qualities named, he would become a far better business man. he would either advance in position or expand his business--in either case raising himself to a higher level of income and success. the effect is all the more striking when a man increases his efficiency in respect to all seven qualities. to cite examples seems almost unnecessary. yet a few typical expressions from subscribers may be of interest: "it is very hard to put into words just how much good i have derived from the alexander hamilton institute course, but i do realize that as problems present themselves, they are much easier to solve, and i have a better conception of the future outlook of business since having the benefit of your course, and there is scarcely a day but what some matter comes up for which i use your course." mr. w. c. roose, _sec'y and gen. mgr._ _beacon shoe company_, _manchester, new hampshire_ "during the past two years my salary has increased more than 400%. this has been due to the rather remarkable increase the fuller brush company has had in sales. these sales are indirectly the result of the ideas i have received from your course." s. l. metcalf, _former vice-president and director of sales, fuller brushes, inc. now president, better brushes, inc., palmer, mass._ "to the man who has had the advantage of a college education this course opens up what might be called a vista of the business world in a very unique manner. the information obtained from this course, if acquired by the ordinary college man by actual experience, would require no less than a lifetime and it is presented in such a manner as to be readily assimilated in the short space of two years, devoting only odd hours to study." mr. e. j. bartells, _manager_ _wood pipe export company, seattle, washington_ a subscriber from a prosperous city in iowa recently called at the new york offices of the alexander hamilton institute, saying that he wanted to meet some of the men who had given him such valuable assistance. he is the controller of a large manufacturing company and a thoroughly trained and expert accountant. the thing that impressed him most about the plan of the modern business course and service was the opportunity it offered him of increasing his already extensive knowledge of the principles of finance, management, advertising, selling and organization, as well as accounting. "let me tell you what happened to me a few weeks ago," he said. "i found myself up against a problem that never had arisen in my previous experience. i was simply stumped. i sought help from various sources in attempting to find a satisfactory solution. then it occurred to me--the most obvious things often come to mind last--to look in the modern business texts for a ray of light. to my great delight, there i found a clear and definite statement of the very principles that should be applied. "i am frank to say to you," he concluded, "that this one bit of information was worth to me at least three times the price of your course." already this subscriber had realized a 300 per cent dividend on his investment. of his subsequent gains we have no record. to the great majority of those who subscribe for the course and service the returns are simply incalculable. the training, the information and the ideas that they secure are a big--often an essential--factor in making their business careers happier and more successful. who can calculate the money value of a return of that kind? the moderate fee which is charged for the modern business course and service is based directly upon the cost of producing the literature included in the course and of maintaining the organization that conducts the course and service. the fee is small in itself; it shrinks into insignificance when compared with the returns. one of our subscribers was speaking only the literal truth when he said: "to the man of ability and brains, your course and service offers a _priceless_ means of developing these qualities to their highest efficiency." for the woman in business the modern business course and service makes the same appeal to the business woman as it does to the business man. consequently a number of women are enrolled for it. among these women are: mrs. e. m. simon, president, r. & h. simon company, union hill, new jersey miss sara f. jones, mgr. woman's dept., equitable life assurance society, chicago, illinois mrs. m. k. alexander, solicitor, equitable life assurance society, chicago, illinois miss mary r. cass, manager, f. n. burt company, buffalo, new york miss louise messner, accountant, petermann stores company, kearsarge, michigan miss s. f. troutman, secretary and assistant to treasurer, first presbyterian church, pittsburgh, pennsylvania mrs. n. m. favor, assistant cashier, the travelers insurance company, manchester, new hampshire today women are engaged in all branches of business. a great number of women occupy executive and other important positions in some of the large concerns of the country, and the number is steadily increasing. for the ambitious woman a career in business, with its great rewards and the possibilities of rendering worthy service, holds forth attractive opportunities. chapter v the question before you a serious business question is now confronting you. it is important that you should consider it fairly and calmly and that you should promptly make up your mind for or against it. the facts are all before you. the question is whether or not you should enrol for the modern business course and service. think over the arguments pro and con. you know that the course and service will bring you a better understanding of sound business principles; that it will give you increased self-confidence; ability to plan more effectively and to decide business questions more quickly and surely. you will find yourself with increased ability to handle men. you will probably enjoy more leisure; you will certainly earn a larger income. you are well enough acquainted with the standing and reputation of the men behind the alexander hamilton institute to know that the modern business course and service must be of the highest quality. and for the same reason you know that it naturally is offered to you at a very moderate fee. the fee for the modern business course and service is $136 in the united states. this covers, without any additional expense, the texts, talks, lectures, problems monthly letters, financial and trade reviews, reports and all necessary personal help. the complete set of 24 text volumes comes at once, and the other literature at convenient intervals. if the course is worth anything at all, the fee is slight in comparison with the results that will follow. the fee may be paid in convenient terms. make your decision certain objections may occur to you: _you have other uses for your money--_ no doubt; yet none of them is as necessary to your successful business career as the modern business course and service. _you are too busy--_ everybody who amounts to anything is busy; yet never "too busy" to acquire knowledge so important as this. _you have a debt to pay off, or a trip to take, or you would rather "think it over--"_ these arguments are unsound from every point of view. no man, in justice to himself, or to those who may be dependent upon him, should deny himself this opportunity to make an investment that will yield large dividends one, two and three years from today. in the coming struggle for world markets, there will be a great need for men of broad, executive training. for men who are prepared, there will be more opportunities to succeed in a big way than ever before. it is false economy, therefore, to postpone for a single day a decision that will enable you to push beyond the half-way mark and forge ahead in business. you are a business man, trained to make decisions. the simple facts are before you now. weigh the arguments; then act. chapter vi descriptive outline of the course in looking over the following detailed outline of the modern business course, you will see more clearly how closely every section is related to daily business practice. the italics after each title give the actual chapter headings; the following matter gives a brief discussion of the purpose and scope of each section of the course. business and the man "_scientific training for business_," _an introduction to the modern business course and service_ _nature and aim of business_ _the profit problem_ _economics and sociology_ _psychology_ _ethics of business_ _vision, or the idea_ _personal efficiency_ _health_ _the efficient business man_ _the executive_ _subordinate or junior officers_ _the rank-and-file worker_ _personality_ _character analysis_ _opportunity_ the most important thing in business is the human element--you. every man must have real ambition, high ideals, and a definite goal in mind before even a correct knowledge of business principles will help him to more than a half-way success. the purpose of this first section of the course is to discuss the viewpoint of the successful business man in an inspiring way, so that you may be inspired yourself and so that you may be able to inspire others about you. "scientific training for business" is an introduction to the whole modern business course and service. in it dean johnson tells you in what way you should read the course, how to get the most out of it, and how to use the equipment so as to bring results. the course begins with an analysis of business operations. it shows briefly what are the dominant features of business life which no man can afford to neglect. it then takes up the relation of personal qualities to business success; it shows what personal characteristics are helpful and how they may be cultivated; and it also points out the traits of mind, manners and morals which hinder men in their business career. the first point in understanding business problems and business principles is to approach them with the right attitude of mind. this section of the course serves to bring the reader into personal touch with the business problems which will engage his attention more in detail in the subsequent sections and thus furnishes a useful introduction to the entire course. economics--the science of business _purpose and scope of economics_ _fundamental concepts_ _land and capital_ _labor and enterprise_ _three fundamental laws_ _consumption of wealth_ _value and the consumer_ _value and the producer_ _value and the trader_ _money_ _credit_ _money, credit and prices_ _foreign trade_ _rent_ _interest_ _wages_ _profits_ economics is the foundation stone upon which the science of business is built. it underlies all business just as mathematics underlies all branches of engineering. it is the basic subject of the course, and its general principles should be thoroughly understood before taking up the subjects treated later. the book is written for the general reader, who has little or no knowledge of economic theory. it gives a clear idea of the business problems and forces with which business men deal and enables the reader to form intelligent judgments of his own. this section of the modern business course makes clear the laws governing the prices of goods, the wages of employes, the profits of employers, the processes of exchange, the functions of money and credit, and the rent of buildings and land. it takes up in comprehensive manner the problems raised by trade unions, by trusts, by governmental taxation and by the growing tendency toward governmental regulation of business. an understanding of all these live, interesting business problems is an essential part of the mental equipment of a broad-gauged business man, working under present-day conditions. business organization _purpose and forms of business organizations_ _sole proprietorship_ _general partnerships_ _limited partnerships_ _syndicates_ _business trusts_ _corporations as business units_ _general aspects of corporations_ _incorporation of companies_ _dissolution of corporations_ _stock and dividends_ _stockholders_ _meetings of stockholders_ _directors and officers_ _intercorporate relations_ _consolidations, sales and leases of assets_ _holding companies_ _illegal combinations_ if you are in business for yourself, or in some way become interested in a growing business, there is nothing that is of greater interest than your rights and the rights of other men who are in the concern. the application of the correct principles of production, marketing, financing and accounting are necessary to insure success, as they determine the profits of the business as a whole. every man goes into business to secure more income for himself, and the amount of his own income will depend, not only on the amount of the profits of the whole business, but on his own proportionate share of these profits. the division of the profits into shares depend almost entirely on the form of organization. moreover, when men enter business they hazard not only their time and a definite amount of wealth in the enterprise, but perhaps other wealth that was intended to be kept separate. indeed, embarking on a business venture may be but the beginning of the loss of the income of future years when all chance of profits has ceased and the business represents nothing but a lot of debts that remain to be liquidated. risk is an important element that is varied by the form of organization selected. this section traces briefly the rise of the corporation through the individual enterprise, the partnership and the joint stock company, and states the advantages and disadvantages of each of these forms of conducting business, as well as those of the corporation. this section of the course constitutes the first step in the study of corporate finance. plant management _the basis of modern industry_ _fundamental industrial principles_ _characteristics of modern industry_ _methods of organization and administration_ _coordinative influences_ _purchasing_ _storing material_ _planning and production departments_ _insuring results--securing industrial data_ _standards_ _the control of quality--inspection_ _rewarding labor--older methods_ _rewarding labor--new methods_ _comparison of wage systems--profit sharing_ _statistical records and reports_ _location of industrial plants_ _arrangement of industrial plants_ _practical limitations in applying industrial principles_ _problems of employment_ _employes' service_ _science and management_ modern management of industrial plants is characterized by planning and system. old processes and old methods no longer command respect because they are old. they have been subjected to searching analysis in the hope of finding better ways of doing things. we look today not for the history, but for the reasons of every phase of plant management. this is our aspect of the general industrial changes which have transformed modern industry and made it a high-powered productive instrument. it is not an isolated thing, but just as significant a part of modern business methods as are improved transportation, increased credit and present-day banking. in this part of the course, the relation of plant management to the characteristic development of modern life is first traced, and then the changes displayed which scientific methods have made in the conduct of manufacturing processes. these affect the structural organization of business, the relations of the directing and managing organs to one another. they also affect the operations of these managing units, the purchase and storage of materials, the routing and sequence of work, the best utilization of machinery and the like. the keynote of the volume is efficiency in productive effort and the principles which underlie it. marketing and merchandising _marketing: modern distribution_ _the field of marketing_ _study of the product_ _study of the market_ _trade channels_ _selling to the jobber_ _wholesale middlemen_ _selling to the retailer_ _selling through exclusive agencies_ _influencing retail sales_ _selling to the consumer_ _good-will and price maintenance_ _reaching the market and the complete campaign_ _merchandising: the jobber_ _modification of the jobber's service_ _problems of the jobber_ _retail competition_ _retail types_ _chain stores_ _mail-order selling_ _training the sales force_ _buying_ _stockkeeping_ _cooperation for service_ there are three different kinds of things that must be considered by everyone who has anything to sell. one group of considerations has to do only with personal salesmanship and sales management. another has to do only with advertising. still a third is concerned solely neither with personal salesmanship nor with advertising, but is common to both. before an effective force of salesmen can be selected and trained and an advertising campaign mapped out, the plan behind the personal selling and advertising campaign must be devised--the marketing methods must be determined. the considerations here may be grouped under three heads: the goods to be sold, the market for the goods, and the methods of reaching that market. a number of questions must be asked and answered about the things to be sold. for example: is there a ready demand or must one be created? is the commodity a necessity or a luxury? is it subject to seasonal variations? is the trade-mark well known? and so on. the first part of the text, marketing, concerns the problems of the manufacturer; the second part, merchandising, treats of the problems of the dealer, both wholesaler and retailer. between them they present a complete picture of the processes by which goods reach the consumer, and reveal the tendencies in modern distribution. salesmanship and sales management _salesmanship: the power of personal salesmanship_ _staples, branded staples and specialties_ _selling process--preliminary to the interview_ _selling process--the interview_ _selling process--the agreement_ _selling process--miscellaneous_ _human appeals that sell_ _development of character and caliber_ _the salesman's duties and responsibilities_ _cooperation, influence and friendship_ _sales management: the sales manager--his qualifications and duties_ _building an organization--selecting men_ _building an organization--training salesmen_ _selling methods and the selling equipment_ _compensation and territory_ _sales records_ _cooperation with salesmen_ _sales contests_ _sales conventions_ there is no subject which is more universally interesting to everyone in business than selling. salesmanship in its broadest sense is essentially the selling of one's point of view, the ability to start with the other fellow's point of view and lead his mind to accept yours. when an individual endeavors to influence another, he is practising salesmanship. in this broad sense, everyone will profit by a knowledge of the principles of salesmanship and selling methods. in this portion of the modern business course, the salesman is shown the necessity of learning something of his prospect previous to the interview. suggestions are also made for getting to see the buyer. the developments in a sale are discussed in such a way as to enable the salesman to build an effective, man-to-man transaction, and the human appeals that sell are outlined. after discussing the qualifications and duties of the sales manager, methods to be employed in the selecting, training and handling of men are detailed. the training of retail sales people is discussed. the planning of the salesman's equipment, the building of a sales manual, the apportionment of territory are gone into. methods of keeping sales records and statistics are outlined; directions given for the handling of sales contests and conventions, the editing of a house organ, and the apportioning of quotas. advertising principles _advertising--a constructive force in business_ _fundamentals of advertising_ _getting the advertisement seen_ _getting the advertisement read_ _making the advertisement understood_ _making the advertisement produce action_ _human appeals in advertising_ _word values in advertising_ _"getting the order" copy_ _"getting the inquiry" copy_ _"directing the reader" copy_ _"molding public opinion" copy_ _preparing the advertisement_ _layout of advertisements_ _booklets, catalogs and folders_ _drawings and reproductions_ _printing art in advertising_ _trade-marks, slogans and catch phrases_ _legal limits and restrictions on advertising_ considering the large number of progressive concerns entering the field of advertising each year, and profiting thereby, the average business man's lack of knowledge concerning advertising principles is lamentable. few have any ability either to write or to judge copy, and almost all are at a loss to deal intelligently with the printer. this section of the course discusses the various classes of copy divided according to the results each is designed to accomplish. the value of word tone in writing and how to secure it are indicated. instructions for preparing and laying out the advertisement are given. the technique of the printing art--type faces, paper, printing processes, half-tones and line-cut illustrations--is discussed. the advertising slogan, the package design and the various considerations in connection with the trade-mark are treated. the business man is prepared to correlate the principles of advertising with those of marketing methods, and to bring an understanding of both to his study of advertising problems of wholesale and retail merchandising. office administration _the office in modern business_ _location, planning and layout of the office_ _office equipment and supplies_ _office appliances_ _selection of employes_ _employment tests and records_ _training_ _stimulation of employes_ _filing_ _interdepartmental communications_ _office manuals_ _the worker's compensation_ _welfare_ _office organization_ _planning_ _office control_ _work reports and their use_ _the art of management_ it is only in recent years that individual business enterprises outside of the manufacturing field have grown to such importance as to bring a large number of employes under one management. today the problems of the office are no less urgent than those of the shop. office administration is in some respects like, in other respects unlike, plant management. it is alike in that it pursues the same ideals of efficiency. it is unlike in that machines and equipment fall into the background and the human element looms large in the foreground of office work. methods of conducting clerical work have, since the advent of the various office machines, of which the typewriter was the pioneer, undergone rapid transformation. underlying these changes there have been principles, more or less clearly recognized, which it is the aim of the text to discover and present in an orderly and systematic fashion. in few departments of office work have standardized processes based upon scientific principles made such headway as in the employment field. hiring employes for office work, training them for their duties, stimulating them to their best effort, adjusting wages to work performed, and providing for deserved promotions, are no longer casual occupations of some general offices, but the work and special concern of the trained office manager. here, as elsewhere, concentration and specialization are beginning to reveal the principles underlying successful effort. such principles concern not only the operations, but the organization of the office and its various parts. accounting principles _development and scope of accountancy_ _accounts and their purpose_ _classification of accounts_ _double entry bookkeeping_ _books of account_ _applying accounting principles--the original entries_ _applying accounting principles--the ledger records_ _applying accounting principles--summarizing results_ _columnar books_ _opening, operating and closing the books_ _the trial balance_ _economic summary_ _the balance sheet_ _single entry bookkeeping_ _continental system of bookkeeping_ _depreciation_ _methods of computing depreciation_ _labor-saving devices_ _internal checks_ as business becomes more complex we are more and more dependent upon accounting methods to show us the trend of the individual business in which we are interested. hence a knowledge of accounting principles is indispensable. yet, even among experienced bookkeepers, comparatively few have a clear understanding of the principles which underlie all correct methods of keeping financial records. this section of the course, therefore, starts with a clear explanation of the fundamental principles of bookkeeping, and progresses step by step until it reaches the most complicated cases of partnership and corporation accounting. within recent years the great importance of proper accounting methods in the conduct of business has come to be fully recognized. this section of the course should enable any executive or accountant to determine what accounting methods are best adapted to his own line of business. credit and collections _mercantile credit_ _book credit_ _documentary credit_ _granting credit--personal considerations_ _granting credit--business considerations_ _sources of credit information_ _cooperative methods in credit investigation_ _analysis of credit information_ _the credit man_ _credit management_ _collecting the money due_ _the collection manager and his work_ _principles underlying collection effort_ _collecting on a friendly basis_ _unfriendly stages of collection_ _credit protection_ _bankruptcy_ _the role of the credit department in developing business_ when a bill of goods is sold, the transaction is by no means complete--that is, if the sale is on credit. the purchaser must pay the bill. but some purchasers cannot pay, others will not; therefore caution must be exercised in granting credit, and pressure brought to bear in obtaining payment. often seekers after credit are foolishly offended at the questions they must answer. they do not realize how personal is the favor they are asking, nor do they usually understand the combination of factors which the credit man must consider. these factors range all the way from personal habits of the applicant to a survey of general business conditions. there is a well-organized machinery for gathering credit information both in this country and abroad. this machinery, however, should be supplemented by the personal observation of the salesmen, many of whom now fail to cooperate in the right spirit with the credit manager. the credit operation is incomplete till the goods are paid for; collections are the complement of credit granting, and they receive an extended treatment in the text. as a last resource, the law may be resorted to, as is evident in the treatment of credit protection and bankruptcy. the possibilities of the credit department as an agency in building up business, which have not always been understood, are set forth in the concluding chapter. business correspondence _letters that get action_ _seeing through the reader's eyes_ _the spirit of the letter_ _the proposition in the letter_ _the proposition analyzed_ _fundamentals of the presentation_ _the aid of formula in presentation_ _applying formulas to the presentation_ _routine and individual letters_ _adjusting complaints by letter_ _credit letters_ _collection letters_ _working the mailing list_ _planning the letter_ _writing the letter_ _mechanical form_ _getting the most out of words_ nearly all of us are constantly receiving and sending letters, and we know in our experience the common types--the nasty letter, the sloppy letter, the cold-as-an-iceberg letter, and, on the other hand, the direct yet cordial letter which makes us feel as if we had gripped a friendly hand. the profit-making influence of good correspondence can hardly be overestimated. a good sales letter may be the means of getting thousands of dollars' worth of business; a poor adjustment letter may be the cause of losing a worth-while customer. to a large extent business must be carried on by means of letters, and there are few subjects of more vital importance to the business man than business correspondence. business letters always have a direct purpose in view and there are certain underlying principles which should be observed in all business letters, whatever their particular purpose. but these letters serve many different purposes, and some of the prominent types and their characteristics are treated. especial attention is given to sales correspondence, which forms a most important branch of business correspondence. cost finding _the importance of cost finding_ _problems of cost finding_ _identification of costs_ _issuing and evaluating material_ _evaluation of labor costs_ _expense or burden_ _depreciation_ _distribution of factory expense_ _production centers and the supplementary rate_ _effect of volume of work on expense distribution_ _other features of expense distribution_ _distribution of administrative expense--rã©sumã©_ _assembling and recording costs_ _analysis and reduction of costs_ _predetermination of costs--materials and labor_ _predetermination of costs--expense_ _application of cost finding methods_ of late years, and as a direct result of growing competition in all branches of industrial enterprise, the subject of cost is receiving increased attention. every year sees hundreds of progressive concerns adopting methods designed to ascertain the real cost of producing and selling goods and of managing a business enterprise. manufacturers are no longer satisfied with merely making a profit. they want to know what lines are paying and what lines are not--not in a general way, but specifically in actual figures. they want to know which departments are producing economically and which are not. in this part of the course, the various methods of keeping track of costs are described and illustrated. particular attention is given to the mixed question of allotting general factory expense or burden. the possibilities of predicting costs are fully discussed and the significance of this development of cost finding methods is fully impressed upon the reader. the problem of costs is one of the widest application in business management and its significance in different lines of business is pointed out. advertising campaigns _the purpose of the campaign_ _analysis of demand and competition_ _the advertising appropriation_ _methods of identification_ _the advertising department_ _the advertising agency_ _advertising media_ _weighing circulation_ _weighing prestige_ _letters and direct advertising_ _sampling_ _how periodicals are used_ _the use of signs_ _campaigns to obtain distribution_ _campaigns to obtain dealer cooperation_ _mail-order campaigns_ _public sentiment campaigns_ _the trader's campaign_ _the campaign as a whole_ in the modern business course and service the study of advertising is divided into three parts. first, in marketing methods there is a complete presentation of the plan behind the campaign--of the things that have to be considered by anyone who has anything to sell, before he sends out salesmen or prepares advertising. the section of advertising principles shows what advertising can do for business, guides one in choosing the right advertising appeal, and treats of the technique of advertising, writing the copy, preparing the illustrations, and getting the advertisement before the public. there is much more to advertising, however, than the making of a preliminary study of the writing of advertisements. the advertiser has to consider problems of organization, methods of identifying his goods, his relation with agencies, the selection of media, distribution, dealer cooperation, and a host of other things, all of which have an important part in the complete campaign. this section deals with the many essential parts of an advertising campaign which have not been considered in preceding sections of the modern business course. it gathers together all the diverse considerations of the advertiser, shows their relation one to another, and binds them into a unified whole. corporation finance _the corporation; a preliminary sketch_ _capital of the corporation_ _capital stock_ _stock not paid in cash_ _trade credit and bank loans_ _short-term loans_ _mortgage bonds_ _collateral trust bonds_ _bonds secured by leases_ _miscellaneous bonds and preferred stock_ _amortization of bonds_ _capitalization_ _investment and maintenance of capital_ _income, dividends and surplus_ _promoting the new enterprise_ _promoting consolidations_ _selling stocks and bonds_ _financing the small company_ _financing reorganizations_ the advantages of the corporation have made it the most popular form of financial organization, and nearly all business men are now interested in one way or another in the formation or management of corporations, or in the buying and selling of the stock and securities of corporations. the stability of practically every business concern depends in a very large measure upon the keenness of judgment used in its financial management. this section of the course enables one to think along financial lines with accuracy and decision. the methods by which corporations are promoted and financed are fully described, and the principles that underlie successful corporate management are stated. the different kinds of bonds, such as mortgage bonds, collateral trust bonds, bonds secured by leases, etc., are explained and the methods of selling them discussed. there are sections on capital and its maintenance and a full discussion of income, dividends and surplus that will be of value to the executive and to the investor. in the last three chapters the application of the principles of corporation finance to the small company is fully described. transportation _the railroads and the shipping public_ _the government takes the railroads_ _government reorganization of railroads_ _railroad rates_ _classifications_ _rates in official classification and southeastern territory_ _transcontinental rates and the panama canal_ _export and import rates_ _special services and charges_ _terminal services and charges in new york_ _express and parcel post_ _the transportation act_ _inland water transportation_ business as it is conducted today would not be possible without the railroad. the corner grocery store as well as the big manufacturing company is directly affected by traffic, rates and methods. the prosperity of many a business and community is largely dependent upon relations with transportation companies. yet many business men are unfamiliar with even the elements of rate making and traffic handling. the war made great changes in railroad organization and when the railroads were returned at the close of the war to their former owners a new set of problems had to be faced. rail rates had assumed a new importance, labor and other costs had increased and both shipper and carrier were called upon to consider transportation in an entirely different light than before the war. all of these problems receive careful consideration in this text, and the tendencies of the times, so far as they have been clearly revealed, are pointed out. classifications, rates, special services, terminal facilities and charges are some of the specific questions discussed. foreign trade and shipping _foreign trade: relation of foreign trade to domestic business_ _the national aspect of foreign trade_ _the market_ _governmental trade promotion_ _private trade promotion_ _indirect exporting_ _direct exporting_ _the conditions of sale_ _the export department_ _cooperation for foreign trade_ _making an export shipment_ _importing_ _shipping: principles of ocean transportation_ _the freight service_ _ports and terminals_ _ocean freight rates_ _rate agreements_ _the merchant marine_ the events of recent years have turned the attention of business men of america once more to the problems of foreign trade. this section of the course describes the development of our trade with foreign countries. it describes various changes which are at work in this field and the methods by which foreign trade is conducted. intimately associated with this subject is that of shipping; the transportation problems involved in foreign trade, questions of routes, rates, registry and the like are given particular attention. the advantages and disadvantages of american and foreign shipping and the problems involved in the up-building of an american merchant marine receive careful consideration. banking _classes of banks_ _operations of a commercial bank_ _the bank statement_ _loans and discounts_ _establishing bank credit_ _bank notes_ _deposits and checks_ _the clearing house_ _bank organization and administration_ _banks and the government_ _american banking before the civil war_ _banking in europe_ _canadian banking system_ _the national banking system_ _banking reform in the united states_ _the federal reserve system_ _state banks and trust companies_ business concerns deal in bank credit every day. they have on deposit large amounts of their capital. they rely upon their banks' stability. and yet how few can read a bank statement with real insight and judgment. the fundamental principles underlying all banking operations are presented under this heading. the nature of money and its relation to credit and capital are described, and the conditions which lead to a general rise or fall of prices are set forth. the important banking and monetary experiences of the united states are reviewed and full descriptions of the banking systems of the united states, canada, england, france and germany are given. in connection with banking, the source of the banker's lending power and its relation to cash on hand are indicated, as well as the distinction between the bank note and the bank deposit, and the factors controlling the rate of discount. banking practice is in large part a study of the banking laws and customs prevalent in the united states, including those governing federal reserve banks, state banks and trust companies. the subject is fully discussed in this part of the course, as are also the technical aspects of banking in all details. international exchange _domestic exchange_ _federal reserve bank clearings_ _general aspects of foreign exchange_ _basal factors of exchange_ _restoration prospects for rates of exchange_ _foreign remittances_ _bills of exchange_ _a day in an exchange box_ _finance bills_ _arbitrage_ _rates of interest_ _gold shipments_ _sterling exchange_ _gold standard_ _gold exchange standard_ _silver and paper exchanges_ _london and new york as financial centers_ _war and the exchanges_ _tables_ the early part of this section of the course deals with inland exchange and describes the method by which settlements are made between different parts of the same country. when this is fully understood the problem of foreign exchange becomes very simple. it is the application of the same principles complicated only by the difference in money units between different countries. the "foreign exchange" department of banking is of such great importance and presents so many difficult questions that it deserves and is accorded special treatment. the reader is given a full description of the mechanism of the exchange market and is shown how money is made in foreign exchanges. he learns how the vast amount of export and import trade is made possible through the interrelations between the foreign exchange markets of new york, london, paris and other large centers. he also learns concretely how foreign shipments are financed and is given some valuable information concerning the influence of gold and other factors upon foreign exchange rates. an important feature of this section is a thorough discussion of the best methods of handling export shipments. many american and canadian manufacturers are considering the advisability of going after foreign trade with greater vigor. they are usually puzzled when it comes to considering how to finance these shipments, which are often a long time in transit. the growing importance of export trade makes this section of the course particularly valuable. insurance _risk and insurance_ _the life risks_ _life insurance protection_ _life policies and premiums_ _modification of the ordinary life policy_ _annuities and pensions_ _group insurance_ _functions of insurance carriers--the old line companies_ _assessment and fraternal insurance_ _government life insurance_ _accident and health insurance_ _liability insurance_ _workmen's compensation insurance--general features_ _workmen's compensation insurance--rate making_ _fire insurance_ _fire insurance policies_ _marine insurance_ _other forms of insurance_ insurance constitutes a form of investment in which we are all interested, as purchasers of life insurance, fire insurance, casualty insurance, marine insurance, or of any other of the various forms which have come into existence. to buy insurance properly, one should know the principles that underlie rates and insurance operations, and should be able to judge the policy which covers these various essentials. partnership and business insurance is much more used now than it has been heretofore and it is becoming an important element in adding to the stability of business. personal or life insurance occupies a large space in the text. the nature of the life risk is discussed as well as the means of protection through the straight life policy. the various motives which have prompted these variations and the effect of these modifications upon the premium or the price of insurance are clearly explained. various types of business organizations with divergent business methods have been devised for the purpose of conducting life insurance. the strength and weakness of the different organization forms are pointed out. another aspect of personal insurance is found in accident and health insurance. obligations toward others generally for personal injuries is the basis of liability and workmen's compensation insurance, of which the latter has had an almost mushroom development of late years. property insurance brings up diverse questions in fire insurance and in marine insurance. the stock and produce exchanges _functions of stock exchanges_ _leading stock exchanges_ _the new york stock exchange_ _stock exchange securities_ _execution of orders, transfers and settlements_ _methods of trading_ _the speculative transaction_ _relations of banks to the security market_ _quotations and news services_ _the curb market_ _benefits and evils of speculation_ _influences that affect stock prices_ _produce exchanges and their functions_ _the future contract_ _organized spot market_ _the chicago board of trade_ almost every man in business comes into contact with some one of the exchanges. therefore, a detailed description of the organization, operation and management of the principal security and raw material markets of the world is of inestimable value. this is the aim of this section of the modern business course and service. speculation in goods and in stocks exists because it performs an economic service. it saves the manufacturer of cotton goods or flour, for example, from gambling by an operation known as hedging. business men should understand how speculation performs this service. the volume closes with a discussion of corners and of the influences governing security and produce prices. accounting practice and auditing _accounting practice_ _proprietary accounts_ _repairs, renewals, depreciation and fluctuation_ _partnership problems at organization_ _partnership problems during operation_ _partnership dissolution_ _partnership dissolution illustrated_ _consignments and joint ventures_ _fiduciary accounting_ _insolvency accounts_ _corporations_ _branch accounts_ _auditing_ _the auditor and his work_ _scope of auditor's activity_ _procedure and methods_ _classes of audits_ _verification of the asset side of the balance sheet_ _verification of liabilities_ _reports and certificates_ this section deals with the application of the principles of accounting to the complicated problems that arise in practice. the correct method of treating the proprietary accounts under the different legal types of organization are considered. the management of surplus, the treatment of reserves, the relation between funds and reserves and the method of handling sinking funds are discussed at length. the differentiation between capital and revenue charges is perhaps the most difficult problem which the accountant has to face. the important principles involved in this problem are treated with numerous examples taken from actual cases. the difficult problems which arise in partnership and corporate accounting are fully explained. auditing is taken up from the business man's point of view rather than from the point of view of the practitioner. however, many points of interest to the practitioner and student are considered. the nature of the auditor's work is discussed and the different classes of engagements which auditors undertake are explained. the auditor renders a report on his work at the conclusion of his engagement and the form and contents of his report are treated at length. the subscriber is shown the difference in certificates which auditors attach to balance sheets and the proper method of interpreting them is discussed. financial and business statements _importance of classified information_ _statistical and graphical statements_ _auxiliary statements_ _analysis and interpretation of income statements_ _consolidated income statements_ _valuation and interpretation of fixed assets_ _valuation and interpretation of intangible assets_ _valuation and interpretation of current assets_ _valuation and interpretation of deferred assets_ _treasury stock and its treatment_ _interpretation of liabilities_ _surplus, reserves and dividends_ _sinking funds and other funds_ _relation of working capital and income to assets_ _consolidated balance sheets_ _private budgets_ _municipal budgets_ _interpretation of professional reports_ the business man must understand accounting as far as he uses accounting knowledge in interpreting the progress of his business. he wants not so much the details of accounting technique as the information necessary to enable him to use his accounting records properly. no one can expect to succeed in a big way without the ability to read financial and business statements--both on the lines and between the lines. in every business the executive deals with a great variety of reports, statements, statistics and charts. this volume is designed to set forth the principles and to describe the methods by which they should be interpreted. in the discussion of private and public budgets is included data that will be of the utmost value to every business man. you will find a thorough discussion of budget making and a clear outline of what should and what should not be done. instructions for the analysis of the reports and financial statements of industrial organizations and railway companies are set forth. investments _farm mortgages_ _urban real estate_ _public bonds of domestic origin_ _bonds of foreign origin_ _bonds and stock contrasted_ _bonds and stock classified_ _railway securities_ _analysis of railroad securities_ _public utility securities_ _industrial securities_ _mining securities_ _oil securities_ _the cycle of trade_ _investment barometers_ _the dream land of finance_ _general rules_ every successful business man at some time in his career has occasion to seek gilt-edge investments--either for his own surplus funds or for those of his company. the daily losses of investors' capital are evidence of the need for a volume which aims to qualify you to make the critical analysis of securities which is necessary to an intelligent estimate of their value. such topics as farm mortgages and urban real estate are thoroughly discussed and the opportunities in this new field for the investor are clearly explained. domestic bonds, foreign bonds, securities of industrials, railways and public utility corporations are analyzed in a way to help you make an intelligent estimate of their value. in this volume you will find a thorough study of the subjects of security fluctuation and trade cycles, together with information on the general rules and technique of trading. business and the government _business and the public in partnership_ _taxation and business_ _government, natural resources and the farmer_ _government encouragement of industries and commerce_ _public inspection of business_ _problems of employment_ _public service corporations_ _local public utilities_ _trusts and combinations_ _the postal service_ _should public management be extended?_ _the great war: its effects, its influence, its lessons_ the course opens with the personal relations of a man to a business and continues with an analysis of the various activities which constitute modern business. in this section it closes with the manifold relations of business to government. business is, as it were, in partnership with the government. in this partnership the government is active, as there are government departments aiming to promote business in manufactures and in trading. business, of course, cannot exist without government, and as the war demonstrated, government cannot exist without business. business is restive, however, under the close supervision wrought of war necessities. how far is such supervision justified in times of peace? this is a question both of principle and expediency and all its aspects are brought out in the discussion of specific problems, the tariff, trusts and corporations, public utilities, national and local, and the like. chapter vii advisory council _the advisory council has general supervision and direction of the policies and activities of the institute._ =joseph french johnson, d.c.s., ll.d.= _dean, new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance_ graduated harvard university, 1878; studied political science and economics in europe; began newspaper work on the springfield _republican_, 1881; moved to chicago, 1883, and became financial editor of the chicago _tribune_; established the spokane (wash.) _spokesman_, 1890, sold his interest, 1893, and became professor of finance in the university of pennsylvania; appointed professor of political economy in new york university, 1901; dean of the school of commerce, accounts and finance since 1903; secretary of the special currency committee of the new york chamber of commerce in 1906; appointed by the national monetary commission to investigate and report on the canadian banking system, 1909; treasurer of the economic club of new york since 1908; director of the merchants' association of new york since 1908; received degree of doctor of commercial science from union college, 1909; member, new york chamber of commerce; member of mayor gaynor's commission on new sources of revenue for new york city, 1912; member of van tuyl commission to revise the banking law of state of new york, 1913; received degree of doctor of laws from hobart college, 1915; author of "money and currency," and "syllabus of money and banking," and author of the modern business text on "business and the man" and "economics--the science of business." =frank a. vanderlip, a.m., ll.d.= _financier_ educated at the universities of illinois and of chicago; after his graduation reporter on the chicago _tribune_, and later financial editor; also part owner and associate editor of the chicago _economist_; became private secretary to secretary of the treasury gage, march, 1897; appointed assistant secretary of the treasury, june, 1897; appointed vice-president of the national city bank of new york, 1901; delegate to the international conference of commerce and industry held at ostend, belgium, 1902; served as president of the national city bank of new york, 1909-1919; member, new york chamber of commerce; trustee, carnegie foundation; member of the council of new york university; director, union pacific railroad company, and of various industrial and banking corporations; author of "chicago street railways," "the american invasion of europe" and "business and education"; chairman, board of directors, american international corporation. =jeremiah w. jenks, ph.d., ll.d.= research professor of government and public administration, new york university graduated university of michigan, 1878; admitted to the michigan bar; graduate student, receiving degree of ph.d., university of halle, 1885; professor of political science, knox college, 1886-1889; professor of political economy, indiana university, 1889-1891; professor of political economy and politics, cornell university, 1891-1912; professor of government and director of the division of public affairs, new york university, 1912-1918; president of the american economic association, 1906-1908; expert agent of united states industrial commission engaged in the investigation of trusts and industrial combinations in the united states and europe, 1889-1901; expert adviser to the united states department of labor, 1901-1902; special commissioner of the united states war department to investigate questions of currency, labor and taxation in the orient, 1901-1902; special expert on currency reform for the government of mexico, 1903; member of the commission on international exchange to advise government of china on currency, 1903-1904; director of the far eastern bureau, since 1913; member of the united states immigration commission, 1907-1910; member, high commission of nicaragua, since 1918; author of "the trust problem," "the immigration problem," "citizenship and the schools," "great fortunes--the winning, the using," "the principles of politics," "great american issues" (written with john hays hammond), and of numerous government reports; and author of the modern business text on "business and the government." =t. coleman dupont, d.c.s.= _business executive_ educated at urbana university, chauncy hall school and massachusetts institute of technology; later surveyor for the louisville & southern exposition and engineer for the central coal & iron company; afterward engaged in extensive coal and iron mining, construction and management of public utilities; for thirteen years president of e. i. dupont de nemours powder company; president, central coal & iron company; president, mchenry coal company; president, johnson coal company; president, main jellico mountain coal company; president, johnstown passenger railway company; vice-president, greeley square hotel company; director, union national bank of wilmington; director, empire trust company; director, national surety company; member, republican national committee; chairman, republican state committee of delaware, 1904. launched a comprehensive plan for remodeling central city. chairman of the inter-racial council. interested in one of the largest hotel companies in america, controlling waldorf-astoria, claridge, mcalpin, new willard. new york university, d.c.s., 1919. =john hays hammond, d.sc., ll.d.= consulting engineer educated in public and private schools; graduated from sheffield scientific school (yale), 1876; appointed by the united states geological survey in 1880 to examine california and mexican gold fields; consulting engineer to union iron works, san francisco, and to central and southern pacific railroads; has made extensive examinations of properties in all parts of the world; became consulting engineer for barnato bros. in 1893 and later for cecil rhodes, with whom he was closely associated,; consulting engineer, consolidated gold fields co. of south africa and the randfontein estates gold mining co.; was one of the four leaders in reform movement in the transvaal, 1895-1896; after varied experience in london, he returned to the united states and became associated with some of the most important financial groups in this country, purchasing and promoting mining properties in this country and mexico; lecturer at columbia, harvard, yale and johns hopkins universities; president of the national republican league; president, american institute of mining engineers; fellow a.a.a.s.; member national civic federation, and other civic and political bodies; contributor to many scientific magazines; appointed by president taft as special ambassador and representative of the president at the coronation of king george v; president of the world court congress. honorary degrees: yale, a.m., 1898; stevens institute of technology, d.e., 1906; st. john's college, ll.d., 1907; university of pittsburgh, d.sc., 1915; collaborator on the modern business text "business and the government." staff _the members of the staff conduct the modern business course and service_ =bruce barton= _general publicity_ graduated from amherst college. managing editor _home herald_, chicago, 1907-1909; managing editor _housekeeper_, 1910-1911; assistant sales manager p. f. collier and son, 1912-1914; editor _every week_, 1914-1917; publicity director united war work campaign; president of barton, durstine and osborne, inc., advertising agents. author of "more power to you," "it's a good old world," "the making of george groton," and contributor to leading magazines and business papers. =dwight e. beebe, b.l.= _collections_ graduate of the university of wisconsin; for three years assistant to the sales manager of the westinghouse-nernst lamp company of pittsburgh; for three years connected with the publicity department of allis chalmers company, milwaukee; later associated with charles austin bates, new york city; appointed bursar of the alexander hamilton institute in 1911. director of service since october, 1918. collaborator on the modern business text on "credit and collections." =geoffrey s. childs, b.c.s.= _office methods_ educated at bryn athyn academy; graduate of new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance. formerly with trackless trolley company; and british and american mortgage company, new york city. assistant chief clerk, alexander hamilton institute, 1914-1915. office manager of alexander hamilton institute since june, 1915. collaborator on the modern business text on "office administration." =edwin j. clapp, ph.d.= _transportation and terminal facilities_ graduate of yale university; after graduation spent one year teaching at hill school, pottstown, pa.; two years as factory assistant and traveling salesman with the robin hood ammunition company; instructor in political economy, yale university, 1911-1912; assistant professor of trade and transportation, school of commerce, new york university, 1912-1914; special traffic commissioner to the directors of the port of boston, 1914; special adviser to the mayor and harbor commissioners of troy; professor of economics, new york university and lecturer on transportation in the school of commerce, accounts and finance, new york university, 1914; special adviser to the legal department of the new york, new haven and hartford railroad in its sound lines cases; author of "the navigable rhine," "the port of hamburg," "economic aspects of the war," "the port of boston," the modern business text on "transportation." =raymond j. comyns, b.c.s.= _personal salesmanship_ educated at new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance; connected with branch of the equitable life assurance society, 1900-1901; accessionist, new york botanical gardens, 1902; entered tenement house department, new york city, 1903; acting chief inspector of tenements, bronx borough, new york city, 1907; examiner of charitable institutions, new york city, 1909-1910; lecturer on salesmanship and sales management, new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance; representative in colorado of the alexander hamilton institute, 1911-1913; appointed staff secretary in charge of enrolments, 1913; assistant director of sales since 1915; co-author, modern business text on "salesmanship and sales management." =herbert f. debower, ll.b.= _advertising and sales policies_ _business promotion_ educated in the university of wisconsin; practiced law for two years; engaged in selling specialties for a number of years; since 1911 vice-president, member of the board of directors and chairman executive committee of the alexander hamilton institute; also director of various business corporations; author of the modern business text on "advertising principles." =roland p. falkner, ph.d.= _business statistics_ graduate of the wharton school of finance, university of pennsylvania; graduate student at the university of paris, berlin, leipsic and halle; 1891-1900, associate professor of statistics, university of pennsylvania; 1891-1892, statistician, u. s. senate committee on finance; 1892-1893, secretary, international monetary conference; 1900, chief, division of documents, library of congress; 1903, special agent, bureau of census on statistics of crime; 1904, commissioner of education for porto rico; 1907, expert special agent in charge of school statistics for the u. s. industrial commission; 1908, chairman of the commission of the united states to the republic of liberia; 1909, financial representative of the republic of liberia; 1911, assistant director of the census; 1913, member joint land commission, united states-panama; since 1914, lecturer, new york university; member international institute of statistics and other learned societies; contributor to various statistical and economic periodicals and has prepared several government reports; 1915, associate editor, 1918, managing editor of the alexander hamilton institute. =major b. foster, m.a.= _banking principles_ graduated from carson and newman college, 1910; principal of watauga academy, 1910-1911; graduate student in cornell university, 1911-1913; fellow in political economy at cornell university, 1912-1913; assistant professor of economics and former secretary of the new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance; author of several of the modern business reports and the modern business text on "banking." former assistant to the chairman of the federal reserve bank of new york, now assistant to executive committee, alexander hamilton institute. =leo greendlinger, m.c.s., c.p.a. (n. y.)= _financial and business statements_ graduate of the new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance; practising accountant; member of the accounting faculty of new york university, 1907-1915; formerly editor of the c.p.a. question department of _the journal of accountancy_; member of the new york state society of certified public accountants; member of the american institute of accountants; member of the executive committee and board of directors as well as secretary and treasurer of the alexander hamilton institute; author of "accountancy problems," 2 vols.; and the modern business text on "financial and business statements." =j. anton dehaas= _foreign trade and shipping_ graduate of high school, the hague, holland; 1900, diplomas in accounting, and french, german and dutch commercial correspondence, 1902; junior accountant with j. h. rosenboom, public accountant, the hague, holland, 1901-1904; a.b. stanford university, 1910; m.a. harvard university, 1911; ph.d. stanford university, 1915; special agent in europe of the california immigration committee, 1914; american representative for magnesiet werken, rotterdam, holland, 1916; instructor in economics, stanford university, 1913-1915; lecturer foreign trade school, san francisco, california, 1915; adjunct professor of business administration, university of texas, 1915-1917; professor of commerce, ohio state university, 1917-1918; examiner, federal trade commission, summer 1917; professor of commerce, university of washington, seattle, washington, 1918; lecturer on foreign trade, columbia university, new york, summer 1918; captain u. s. a., 1918; formerly professor of foreign trade at the commercial university at rotterdam, holland, 1919-1920; professor of foreign trade, new york university, 1920. author of business organization and administration, and of modern business text on "foreign trade and shipping." =edward r. hardy, ph.b.= _insurance_ graduate of boston university; formerly librarian, insurance library association, boston; for several years engaged in investigations and administrative work for various insurance organizations; secretary and treasurer of the insurance society of new york, 1909; manager of the underwriters' association of the district of columbia, 1914; lecturer on insurance in new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance; assistant manager of the new york fire insurance exchange; co-editor of the "international insurance encyclopedia"; author of "history of fire insurance in massachusetts" and contributor on fire insurance in the modern business text on "insurance." =warren f. hickernell, ph.d.= _business conditions_ studied political economy at yale university. m.a., 1909; ph.d., 1919. was economic expert with the immigration commission, 1910, and the bureau of census, 1910-1911. from 1911 until 1916 was managing editor of the brookmire economic service. author of "business cycles" and numerous articles on business and financial conditions. lecturer on "panics and depressions" at new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance. director, bureau of business conditions of the alexander hamilton institute, since august, 1916. =solomon s. huebner, ph.d.= _marine insurance_ educated at university of wisconsin. b.s., 1902; m., 1908. dr. huebner was a special lecturer on insurance and commerce in the university of pennsylvania, 1904-1906; assistant professor, 1906-1908, and professor since 1908. since 1919 dr. huebner has been expert in insurance to the united states shipping board and to the committee on the merchant marine and fisheries of the house of representatives. he has had charge of the congressional marine insurance investigation. while serving the committee on the merchant marine he had charge of the shipping investigation which led to creation of u. s. shipping board and played a prominent part in forming the u. s. shipping act. dr. huebner is a special lecturer on insurance in the columbia university school of business. he was expert for the committee on merchant marine and fisheries of the house of representatives. he is author of works on property insurance, 1911; life insurance, 1915; steamship agreements and affiliations in the american foreign and domestic trade, 1913; marine insurance, 1920, and of the sections on marine insurance and life insurance in the modern business text on "insurance." =jeremiah w. jenks, ph.d., ll.d.= _relation of government to business_ (see advisory council.) =joseph french johnson, d.c.s., ll.d.= _economic problems_ _business ethics_ (see advisory council.) =walter s. johnson, k.c.= _commercial law_ educated in mcgill university (b.a., b.c.l.); member of the quebec bar; practising law in montreal; lecturer on the law of agency, the law of partnership and lease and constitutional history, mcgill university; collaborator in writing the modern business texts on "credit and the credit man" and "business organization"; author of the canadian modern business text on "commercial law"; editor, the quebec civil code. =edward d. jones, m.a. (hon.), ph.d.= _investments_ educated in ohio wesleyan university; graduated in 1892 with degree of b.s., m.a., 1912; entered university of wisconsin and received degree of ph.d. in 1895; instructor in statistics and economics, 1895-1898; assistant professor of economics and commercial geography, 1900-1901, university of wisconsin; united states commissioner to paris exposition, 1899-1900; professor of business administration, university of michigan, 1902-1919; member of international association of arts and sciences, st. louis, 1903; holder of diploma and bronze medal, paris exposition, and gold medal, buffalo exposition; during the war with the general staff of the war department, and with the war industries board; member of american economic association, of american society of industrial engineers and of industrial relations association of america; now in charge of harvard university service in foreman training; author of "the economic crises," "the business administration," "the administration of industrial enterprises" and of the modern business text on "investments." =john g. jones= _sales management_ educated in public school and university college of wales, aberystwyth; came to america in 1888 and engaged in newspaper work and mining in montana and colorado; engaged in sales work since 1903; vice-president and director of sales and advertising of the alexander hamilton institute since 1912; also a director and member of the executive committee of alexander hamilton institute; special lecturer on salesmanship and sales management in the new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance; chairman of the international committee on business methods and industrial relations, industrial association of rotary clubs, 1920-21; author of the modern business text on "salesmanship and sales management." =dexter s. kimball, a.b., m.e.= _cost finding_ practical work with pope and talbot, port gamble, washington, 1881-1887; entered shop of union iron works, san francisco, 1887, continuing this practical work until 1893; graduated leland stanford university, 1896; entered the engineering department of the union iron works, 1896; designing engineer, anaconda mining company, 1898; assistant professor machine design, sibley college, 1898-1901; professor machine construction, 1904-1905; professor machine design and construction, 1905-1915; professor machine design and industrial engineering, 1915-1919; dean of the engineering colleges, cornell university; member of council on industrial education, new york state department of education, 1911; member of american society mechanical engineers; member of society for promotion of engineering education; author "elements of machine design" (with john h. barr), 1909; "industrial education," 1911; "principles of industrial organization," 1913; "elements of cost finding," 1914; contributor to scientific press; author of the modern business text on "cost finding" and "plant management." =bernard lichtenberg, m.c.s.= _advertising principles_ graduate of new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance. two years post-graduate study in advertising at new york university. formerly with the clark-hutchinson company, of boston; and with the business book bureau, new york city; office manager of the alexander hamilton institute, 1912-1915; assistant director of advertising since june, 1915. co-author of the modern business text on "advertising principles." =frank l. mcvey, ph.d., ll.d.= _economics_ born in wilmington, ohio, november 10, 1869; educated in ohio wesleyan university and yale university, receiving degree of ph.d. in 1895 from the latter; also studied in england in 1898. he became professor of economics in the university of minnesota in 1896; president of the state university of north dakota in 1909-1917; now president of the university of kentucky; chairman of north dakota state educational commission, 1911; member of north dakota state board of education; member of american economic association; member of american statistical association, and member of other commercial clubs and societies; secretary and founder of the minnesota academy of social sciences; member and chairman of minnesota tax commission, 1907-1909, and member of other commissions and committees. author of numerous tracts, books and pamphlets, including "modern industrialism," "railway transportation," "the making of a town," and editor, national social science series; collaborator on the modern business text on "economics--the science of business." =john thomas madden, b.c.s., c.p.a. (n. y.)= _accounting practice_ born in worcester, mass.; graduate of new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance (summa cum laude); employed with swift & company's subsidiary interests in various capacities, 1900-1909; with leslie & company, chartered accountants, new york, 1910-1911; practising public accountant; instructor in accounting, new york university, 1911-1913; assistant professor of accounting, 1913; now professor of accounting and head of department of accounting, new york university; special lecturer in accounting, association of employes, new york edison company; treasurer, old colony club; president, american association of university instructors in accounting, 1920-21; national president, alpha kappa psi fraternity, 1919-1920; and collaborator on the modern business text on "accounting practice and auditing." =mac martin= _advertising campaigns_ educated in minneapolis public schools; graduate of university of minnesota; president mac martin advertising agency; ex-president minneapolis advertising forum; agency service committee, american association of advertising agencies; professional lecturer in advertising at the university of minnesota; author "planning an advertising campaign for a manufacturer"; author "modern methods of merchandising"; author "martin's merchandising reporting service," and of the text on "advertising campaigns" in the modern business series. =g. f. michelbacher, m.s.= _compensation and liability insurance_ graduate of the university of california, 1912; teaching fellow in mathematics in the university, 1912-1913; lecturer in insurance and mathematics, 1913-1915; in charge of the preparation of the california schedule for rating permanent injuries, for the industrial accident board of the state of california, 1913-1914; later superintendent of the permanent disability rating department of the industrial accident commission of the state of california and superintendent of the claims department of the state compensation insurance fund; a year later became statistician of the national workmen's compensation service bureau in new york, 1916-1920; actuary of the bureau; secretary of the national council on workman's compensation insurance; contributor on liability and workman's compensation insurance to the modern business text on "insurance," also secretary of the national council on workmen's compensation insurance. =t. vassar morton, litt.b.= graduate rutgers college; engaged in sales work with the american hard rubber company; office manager of the voorhees rubber manufacturing company; afterward subscription credit and collection manager of doubleday, page and company; member of the national association of credit men; appointed bursar of the alexander hamilton institute october 1, 1918. collaborator on the modern business text "credit and collections." =bruce d. mudgett, ph.d.= _life insurance_ graduate of university of idaho; one year of graduate work at columbia university and four years at university of pennsylvania; seven years instructor in insurance, wharton school of finance and commerce, university of pennsylvania; assistant professor of insurance, school of business administration, university of washington, seattle, washington. on leave 1918-1919 as statistical economist, bureau of research, war trade board, washington, d. c.; now associate professor of economics, university of minnesota. joint author with s. s. huebner of volume on life insurance; author of "the disability clause in life insurance contracts;" several articles in economic periodicals; contributor on life insurance to the modern business text on "insurance." =e. l. stewart patterson= _domestic and foreign exchange_ educated in england; entered eastern townships bank at sherbrooke in 1888; acted as accountant for this bank in granby and montreal, 1889-1901; became assistant manager at montreal in 1902; served three years (1904-1907) as assistant manager at sherbrooke; later became manager, and in 1909 assistant general manager; since amalgamation of the eastern townships bank with the canadian bank of commerce, in 1912, has served as inspector at toronto, and is now superintendent of the eastern townships branches, with headquarters at sherbrooke; fellow of bankers' institute, london; of institute of banking of the united states; and member of the canadian bankers' association. collaborator on the modern business text on "international exchange." =frederic e. reeve, c.p.a.= _accounting_ born january 3, 1886; graduate of new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance, june, 1911. c.p.a. degree, new york state, august, 1911. former instructor in accounting at new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance. member of the firm of white and reeve, certified public accountants, 1913-1917. since that date practising as a certified public accountant in new york city. collaborator on the modern business text on "accounting principles." =frederick c. russell, b.c.s.= _auditing_ graduate new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance. formerly accountant for carter, howe and company, manufacturing jewelers; connected with the auditing department of the new york telephone company; formerly instructor in accounting, new york university school of commerce; controller, alexander hamilton institute since 1916. author of the modern business text on "accounting principles." =bernard k. sandwell, b.a.= _international finance_ graduated toronto university, 1897; began newspaper work in england, but returned to canada in 1900; editorial writer on toronto _news_; editorial writer and dramatic critic on montreal _herald_; specialized in economic subjects, and in 1910 was one of the founders of the montreal _financial times_ and became editor of that paper; resigned 1918 to take present post of assistant professor of economics, mcgill university, montreal; editor of the _canadian bookman_, 1918; national secretary canadian authors association; author of financial section of "canada and the great world war." =william w. swanson, ph.d.= _money and banking_ studied at queen's university, kingston, canada, and specialized in economic science under dr. adam shortt; graduated with honors in 1905; fellow at the university of chicago in the department of political economy, 1905-1908; graduated ph.d., 1908; author of "the establishment of the national banking system"; associate editor of the montreal _journal of commerce_, 1914; since special writer for the _journal of commerce_; contributor to _monetary times_ and other financial journals in canada; investigated the unemployment problem for the ontario government commission on unemployment, 1915; associate professor in economic science in queen's university, kingston, 1908-1916; professor of economics at the provincial university of saskatchewan, since 1916. =john b. swinney, a.b.= _merchandising_ graduated at syracuse university in 1904; previous to entering college engaged in retail merchandising; 1904-1906, superintendent of schools, springville, n. y.; 1906-1908, with john wanamaker in retail merchandising; 1908-1913, with longmans, green & company, in wholesale merchandising; assistant secretary in charge of service, alexander hamilton institute, 1913-1917; lecturer on wholesale merchandising in new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance, 1916-1917; editor harper's retail business series; professor of marketing, college of commerce and business administration, tulane university, 1917. lecturer on merchandising in columbia university, 1919. now superintendent of merchandising, the winchester stores (chain sporting goods and hardware stores). collaborator on the modern business text on "marketing and merchandising." =william h. walker, ll.d.= _financial problems_ educated in the wharton school of finance of university of pennsylvania; assistant purchasing agent, consolidated lithograph company; later engaged by the same company in the installation of cost systems and the organization of branch plants; a number of years superintendent and assistant manager, erie lithographing and printing company; resigned to become president of the grape products company; director and officer of numerous other corporations; engaged for many years in special study of finance, corporations and business efficiency; financial counsel to corporations; lecturer and writer on finance and corporations; in 1913, appointed dean of the school of accounts, finance and commerce, duquesne university, pittsburgh; director, pittsburgh commercial club; member of pittsburgh tax commission and chairman of its committee on administration; author of the modern business text on "corporation finance." special lecturers _the special lecturers have prepared written lectures for the modern business course and service, presenting results of their successful business experience._ =erastus w. bulkley= _partner, spencer trask & company_ graduated from new york university in 1891; five years later receiving a degree from the new york college of pharmacy. following a short period of service with the pennsylvania railroad company, he entered the service of spencer trask & company, investment bankers, in 1898, as assistant manager of their albany, new york, office. six years later he was appointed sales manager of the new york city office; in 1906, he was admitted as a partner in that firm, and is at present an active member. he established the educational courses now in use by spencer trask & company for salesmen and office employes. he is recognized among investment bankers as a close student of finance, especially of the methods of distributing securities to individual investors. governor and chairman of the foreign relations committee of the investment bankers' association of america, 1912-1915; member of the advisory board of new york university school of commerce; member of the american economic association and of the american academy of political and social science. =herbert s. collins= _vice-president and general manager, united cigar stores company_ born in orleans county, new york; became a clerk in mr. whelan's cigar store, becoming the manager of the business; came to new york in 1900, and was one of the first salesmen of the united cigar stores company; as sales manager mr. collins is credited with the development of window display in the united cigar stores; in the arrangement of goods visible from the sidewalk, he takes special interest, in order that it may dovetail with the other advertising of the store. =henry m. edwards= _auditor, new york edison company_ born in new york city; educated at college of the city of new york; had short experience in wholesale drygoods and fire insurance business; was connected successively with the office, manufacturing and selling organizations of john anderson and company, tobacco manufacturers; entered the employ of the manhattan electric light company, 1889, as bookkeeper; subsequently appointed auditor of the company, and two years later was made director and secretary, which office he retained until the company, in 1900, was consolidated with the edison electric illuminating company; was in charge of the financial operations incident to the consolidation of all the companies forming the present new york edison company, of which company he was made auditor; has been chairman of the accounting committee of the national electric light association, since 1907; author of "electric light accounts and their significance;" has contributed to trade journals and other magazines, many papers on accounting and financial subjects and has delivered many addresses on these subjects. =harrington emerson= _efficiency engineer_ born in trenton, n. j.; educated in paris, munich, vienna, athens; took the mechanical engineering course in royal polytechnic, munich; professor in university of nebraska, 1876-1882; after 1883 engaged in professional work with c., b. & q., union pacific and santa fe railways; now president of the emerson company, efficiency engineers; author of various important works which have had a strong influence on business methods, including "efficiency" and "twelve principles of efficiency." =charles ernest forsdick= _controller, union oil company_ born at greenwich, england; educated in the grammar schools there, later attended morden college and the shrewsbury schools; came to the united states in 1888, and until 1893 was engaged in accounting work in the southern states; then became affiliated with the accounting department of the lehigh valley railroad company in philadelphia, of which company he became general bookkeeper; in 1901 mr. forsdick became associated with haskins and sells, certified public accountants in new york, with whom he remained for ten years; he became associate at large of the american association of public accountants and a member of the institute of accounts, and was for four years a member of the faculty of the new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance. =orlando c. harn= _advertising manager, national lead company_ born in dayton, ohio; educated in ohio wesleyan university and in cornell university; entered business as clerk in a retail book store, afterward engaged in newspaper and trade paper work; at one time advertising manager of h. j. heinz company; chairman, national advertising commission; for two terms president of the technical publicity association; was the second president of the association of national advertising managers; now advertising manager and chairman of the sales committee of the national lead company; originator of the "dutch boy" trade-mark. =a. barton hepburn= _chairman advisory board, chase national bank, new york_ born at colton, n. y.; graduated from middlebury college and received degrees of ll.d. and d.c.l. at st. lawrence, columbia and williams college. practised law in new york state, was appointed superintendent of the banking department for new york and later comptroller of the currency. in 1892 he was made president of the third national bank of new york, then vice-president of national city bank, and later president of the chase national bank of new york. he is director of a number of prominent financial, industrial and commercial organizations; trustee of middlebury college and rockefeller foundation; member of new york chamber of commerce and various scientific and literary societies. =lawrence m. jacobs= _vice-president, international banking corporation_ born in sturgis, michigan; graduated from the university of chicago in 1899; was sent by the government in 1900 to the philippine islands, china and japan; in 1903 he entered the national city bank of new york; in 1909 he was made foreign representative of the national city bank; when the national city bank acquired the international banking corporation and the international bank, he was made vice-president of the former and the president of the latter. =jackson johnson= _chairman of the board, international shoe company_ born in lagrange, alabama; entered the general store business in holly springs, mississippi; for five years engaged in the wholesale shoe business. in 1898 moved to st. louis, and was one of the leaders in organizing the roberts, johnson and rand shoe company; president of this company until 1911, when the international shoe company was formed by the consolidation of the roberts, johnson and rand shoe company and the peters shoe company. in 1912 the friedman-shelby shoe company was purchased and became one of the sales branches of the international shoe company. mr. johnson was elected the first president of the international shoe company, a position which he held for five years, and until he was chosen chairman of the board the position which he now fills. is director in the first national bank in st. louis and the st. louis union trust company; member of the board of trustees of washington university. for two terms, ending november, 1919, was president of the st. louis chamber of commerce and during his incumbency the activities of this organization were greatly extended and intensified. during the war he served the government as regional adviser to the war industries board. =fowler manning= _sales manager, diamond match company_ born in texas; entered business as a traveling salesman; he left the road to join the inside sales organization of the meyer brothers' drug company, st. louis, with a view to securing an insight into the methods employed in the sales management of a large successful business; specialized in sales organization and sales reorganization to broaden still further his experience in connection with specialty lines. =finley h. mcadow= _past president of the national association of credit men_ born in ohio; educated in ohio; entered chicago branch of chas. scribner's sons as bookkeeper; two years later he became assistant superintendent and cost accountant for racine (wis.) hardware manufacturing company; secretary and treasurer of staver brothers carriage company of chicago; has long been associated with the national association of credit men, having served with honor as director, and president of the chicago local association, and as director, vice-president and for two terms president of the national association of credit men. he is a lecturer on credits in central y. m. c. a. of chicago and credit manager of skinner brothers of chicago. =general charles miller= _former chairman of the board, galena-signal oil company_ born in alsace, france, educated in france; given degree of a.m., bucknell university; entered oil business, 1869, and had been president galena-signal oil company since its organization; director in over forty industrial corporations; entered the civil war when twenty years of age; formerly mayor of franklin, pa.; commissioned in national guard of pennsylvania, 1880, as major; promoted to brigadier general and major general commanding the national guard, retiring in 1906; decorated by french government as chevalier of legion of honor for eminent services to industry and commerce. =melville w. mix= _president, dodge manufacturing co._ born in atlanta, ill.; at the age of twenty-one entered employ of dodge manufacturing company of mishawaka, ind., and held various positions in the company; in 1894 he was elected vice-president and general manager, and in 1896 president of the company; was formerly president, american supply and machinery manufacturers' association; vice-president from indiana of national association of manufacturers; served two years as mayor of mishawaka, and later as member for indiana of louisiana exposition commission; was subsequently appointed by the governor of indiana as member of commission to investigate laws and conditions of woman labor and to recommend proper legislation in connection therewith. =emmett hay naylor= _secretary-treasurer, writing paper manufacturers' association_ educated in dartmouth college, new york law school, and graduate school of harvard university; for four years secretary of the springfield (mass.) board of trade; held honorary offices of president of the new england association of commercial executives and secretary-treasurer of the american association of commercial executives; later secretary-treasurer of the western new england chamber of commerce; now secretary-treasurer of the writing paper manufacturers' association; also secretary-treasurer of the cover paper and tissue paper manufacturers' association; special lecturer before the graduate schools of dartmouth college, harvard and new york universities; author of various magazine articles concerning the principles and possibilities of commercial organization work. =holbrook f. j. porter= _consulting engineer_ born in new york city; educated, lehigh university; served successively with several industrial corporations, 1878-1894; western representative, bethlehem steel company, 1894-1901; eastern representative, 1901-1902; vice-president and general manager, westinghouse-nernst lamp company, 1902-1905; consulting industrial engineer in independent practice in new york since 1905. =welding ring= _exporter_ born in cornwall, n. y.; entered business in 1864 as clerk in an importing house; after spending a year in the importing establishment, spent several years in a grain and flour commission business; since that time has been engaged in exporting to australia, new zealand, south africa and europe; has visited all these countries, as well as china, japan and the east indies, and has studied their problems at close range; now senior member of the exporting firm of mailler and quereau; director and vice-president of the united states and australia steamship company; member of the new york chamber of commerce and chairman, executive committee of the produce exchange and maritime exchange; ex-president, exporters and importers' association; director, foreign trade council; trustee, williamsburg savings bank. =arthur webster thompson= _president, philadelphia company of pittsburgh_ born in erie, pa.; graduated in 1897 from allegheny college with the degree of civil engineer; was rodman on location work for the pittsburgh, buffalo and lake erie railroad; was appointed assistant division engineer of the baltimore and ohio railroad at pittsburgh in 1900 and gradually rose until in july, 1916, he became vice-president of this railroad in charge of traffic and commercial development; is president of the board of trustees of allegheny college and a member of the following scientific societies: american railway association (vice-president); american society of civil engineers; american railway engineering association; engineers' society, western pennsylvania; american academy political and social science; is a director of the national bank of commerce and of the citizens company of baltimore, and chairman of the board of managers and director of the washington (d. c.) terminal company; member of the special committee on national defense, of the american railway association; appointed by the governor a member of the maryland preparedness and survey commission. =frederick s. todman= _general manager, hirsch, lillienthal & company_ born in new york city; educated in new york university, which institution later bestowed upon him the degree of master of commercial science; mr. todman early specialized in the subject of finance with particular reference to the work of wall street and the stock exchanges. on these subjects he has written extensively for the magazines and the public press; author of "brokerage accounts;" in 1914 identified with the financial department of the new york university school of commerce, accounts and finance. =john conselyea traphagen= _treasurer, mercantile trust and deposit company of new york_ educated in new york university; became manager of statistical department, standard statistics company, 1910; elected a director, 1914, and vice-president of this company in 1915; became assistant secretary of the franklin trust company of new york, 1916. he is now the treasurer of the mercantile trust and deposit company of new york; he is a trustee of the american savings bank, and secretary to reorganization committees of some of our largest railroad and street railway systems. =john wanamaker= _merchant_ at the age of fourteen was errand boy in a book store; later he became salesman in a clothing store; and at twenty-four founded a small clothing establishment in philadelphia; in 1876 he established his general store in philadelphia, and in 1896 revived the business of mr. a. t. stewart in new york; today the wanamaker stores in new york and philadelphia are among the largest of their kind; has been actively interested in politics and was postmaster-general of the united states in president harrison's cabinet, where his capacity for organization won him marked distinction; he has always been interested in philanthropic, religious and educational work; he founded the presbyterian hospital, and also the bethany presbyterian church sunday school; in 1912 he was given the decoration of officer of the legion of honor by the french government. =walter n. whitney= _vice-president, continental grocery stores, inc._ born in elmira, n. y.; educated in the public schools of buffalo, n. y.; began his business career in the central railway clearing house; three years later he entered the service of the larkin company. subsequently mr. whitney found his sphere in the advertising and selling departments, working his way through the various branches; in 1916 he originated and conducted an advertising and selling campaign that is said to have been one of the most successful campaigns in the history of larkin company. more than $3,000,000 worth of business was credited to that campaign. later he was associated with the mail-order work of merrell-soule & company, manufacturers of food products at syracuse, n. y. he is now vice-president, continental grocery stores, inc. _summing it up_: isn't it true that many of the interests in your life are centered on your business progress? so much depends on your success or failure in business. your daily bread, your social position, your ambition, the welfare of your family, everything you expect to be and have may be decided for or against you by your accomplishments in business. do you consider as seriously your plans of how you are to succeed as you do your plans of what success you hope to attain? surely, since so much depends on it, isn't it your duty to take advantage of every possible opportunity to better your conditions right now? briefly stated, the modern business course and service offers you a thorough training in practical business knowledge--a training that prepares you to become a better business man. it is helping thousands of other men in a dollars and cents way. it can help you too. our subscribers do succeed faster, do accomplish more, do make more money than the average business man. the evidence is overwhelming. the value of the course and service is established. no thinking man can doubt it. the question is, are you willing to override the countless insignificant objections and consider the one big fundamental reason why you should enrol? are you willing to sacrifice a little time, a little money, a little effort in order to attain success in the biggest factor in your life--business? if you have confidence in your ability, if your ambitions are sincere--you can't decide against it. you will take this first step toward bigger business success now by joining the 145,000 other progressive men who are following the modern business course and service. press of andrew h. kellogg co., new york advertisements [illustration] the twenty-four volumes of modern business texts are printed on dull finished paper and bound in flexible fabrikoid. each volume is 5-1/8 x 7-1/2 inches in size and contains about 350 pages. they are adapted for constant use, can be slipped into the pocket and carried without any trouble. the volumes in themselves constitute a complete business library. [illustration: cost records as profit makers the business that does not watch its costs is likely to have no profits to watch. ] this shows the cover of one of the talks in the modern business series. you receive one of these talks every two weeks with either a modern business lecture or a modern business problem. [illustration: building an organisation] prominent business men write these modern business lectures, showing from their own experience how the principles treated in the texts have been successfully applied by them. [illustration: scudder's system to "beat the market"] the solution of the 24 modern business problems is optional with the subscriber. when he sends in his solution, the subscriber receives in return a personal letter of criticism and suggestions, together with a model solution of the problem. [illustration] coming as they do every month, these letters contain so concise and authoritative a summary of all important factors affecting current business that they are proving of immense practical value to our subscribers. [illustration: financial and trade review] these reviews are issued monthly. each review covers the current security market and analyzes securities, both individually and by groups. it discusses topics of business legislation and important current events and covers the production and prices of general commodities in a way which enables one to judge the trend of commodity prices. [illustration: federal income and excess profits taxes modern business report list] these reports cover specific problems and are replete with forms and illustrations; they show how a particular problem has been worked out and are the result of special investigation. * * * * * list of changes transcriber's note: blank pages have been deleted. some illustrations may have been moved. we have rendered consistent on a per-word-pair basis the hyphenation or spacing of such pairs when repeated in the same grammatical context. the publisher's inadvertent omissions of important punctuation have been corrected. other changes are listed below: page change 3 [advertisements section added to table of contents.] 4 frederic[frederick] s. todman, general manager, hirsch, 17 [advertisements moved to end of publication; chapter header added.] 86 _sellings[selling] stocks and bonds_ 94 _interpretation of liabilties[liabilities]_ 99 honary[honorary] degrees: yale, a.m., 106 of minnesota tex[tax] commission, 1907-1909, 107 service bureau in new york, 1916-1920[;] 108 former[former] instructor in accounting 114 advisor[adviser] to the war industries board. 119 isn't lt[it] true that * * * * * note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 39761-h.htm or 39761-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39761/39761-h/39761-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/39761/39761-h.zip) the knack of managing by lewis k. urquhart and herbert watson published by factory management and maintenance 330 west 42nd street new york city, n. y. [illustration: a mcgraw-hill publication] 330 west 42nd street new york city, n. y. i analysis someone once said--probably it was mr. schwab--that given the right organization it was no harder to manage the u. s. steel corporation than to operate a peanut stand. and mr. schwab ought to know, although no life-sized portrait of him all dressed up like a peanut vendor has ever been brought to our attention. however that may be, his statement is interesting--especially interesting because his appraisal of the job of managing very nearly approaches ours. in "the knack of managing," you see, much of the emphasis will be on the fact that the fundamental principles of management apply to every business alike. and if we may start out with the premise that managing mr. schwab's bethlehem steel company is not such a far cry from operating a pretzel plant or a furniture factory, our battle is already half won. the principles of management vary not at all, however different may be the mechanics of application. how often the editor, how often the equipment salesman, listens to that time-worn tale of woe: "my business is different. so-and-so can do that sort of thing. but i make gadgets--and your conveyors, your air conditioners or whatever it is you write about or sell, won't do me a bit of good." _of course_ his business is different--different in its individual characteristics, its financial, sales, production, labor problems. but they are only the clothes the business wears. they may differ from the clothes of another enterprise as widely as the frilly importation from the rue de la paix differs from the sleazy issue of the east side sweat shop. but underneath the clothes the artist knows there is the human body--and a study of anatomy is necessary before he can paint the picture. beneath the "clothes" of the business are the principles of management--the anatomy of management--the framework upon which the completed structure is built. doesn't it all boil down to something like the colonel's lady and judy o'grady? one, presumably, wore a brief peignoir with a paris label; the other, a substantial bungalow apron from a department store basement. but weren't they "sisters under the skin"? stripped of all the furbelows--the details of operation, of tools, of materials--the objectives of our steel master, our peanut vendor, our pretzel maker, our furniture manufacturer, are one and the same thing. their every-day job, in short, is to _get something well done with maximum dispatch and at minimum expense_. that's management's job. it goes for every type of enterprise; whether it involves the use of a million dollars' capital, or only ten cents' carfare--or a few minutes of a man's time. the "clothes" matter not at all. beneath them the fundamental steps in managing are identical. the basic knack of managing is the same. consider one of the simplest forms of business enterprise--the delivery of a message. the errand boy--if he's worth his salt and is really _managing_ his job--does in principle exactly what the general manager of the glass plant, the automobile factory, the textile mill, does when he comes face to face with _his_ problems. _in principle_, mind you. first--this is the errand boy managing his job--he settles in his mind exactly where he has to go. not just over to federal street--but to 63 federal. in a word, he analyzes the business or the job to be done. analysis, then, is the first step. second--he figures out the shortest, most economical way to go there. in other words, he plans the doing of the job for the least expenditure. planning is the second step. third--shall he walk or shall he ride? shall he do the work himself? or shall he hire someone else to do it for him? his third step, you see, is organization. he organizes the handling of his work. the "right organization," said mr. schwab---fourth--he must get service. there are other errand boys. there are elevator men, office boys to meet and get along with if he is to execute his errand with the greatest dispatch. now, you see, he's handling the help. the manager of the piano plant, the agent of the cotton mill, would call that phase of his job industrial relations. fifth--all the time he's planning, going and doing, he never loses sight of the final object of his errand. he never forgets he has a message, perhaps a bunch of securities, to deliver. he keeps his eye on the parcel he's carrying. he gets a receipt before he lets go of it. in other words, he supervises and cares for his business. the manager of the shoe shop, of the furniture factory, never forgets the final objective. after all, it's profit. +---------------------------+ | analyzing the job | +---------------------------+ /\ / \ / \ / \ +--------------+ +---------------+ | planning the | | organizing | | operations | | the work | +--------------+ +---------------+ \ / \ / \ / \/ +-------------------------+ | handling the help | +-------------------------+ | | +-----------------------------+ | supervising and conserving | | the business | +-----------------------------+ now look at the chart. it pictures the anatomy of management. the chinese say a picture is worth ten thousand words. and it would take a heap of writing to tell the story more completely, more simply than this picture. try hanging the "clothes" of your machine shop, your woodworking plant, your paper mill, on it. they fit, don't they? true, the chart is drawn from one of the most primitive tasks of management--the simple delivery of a message. but suppose the boy doesn't deliver the message himself, but has an assistant. won't it be necessary to go through exactly the same motions? suppose, instead of one message, there are _fifty_. fifty assistants will be necessary. will the job of managing vary a jot--or even a tittle? now substitute fifty _boxes_ for fifty _messages_. the boxes have to be shipped. the same processes of thought, the same principles of management, apply. if, instead of fifty boxes to be _shipped_, fifty machines are to be _manufactured_--or if instead of fifty machines it's fifty thousand, and a thousand men and a million dollars of capital are to be employed, every one of the five principles shown on the chart will be used. and every essential point in the management of the _business_ could be covered by those five fundamentals. now substitute ships or shoes or breakfast food for the machines we have been talking about, and it becomes clearer than ever that this business of managing recognizes no industrial fences. learn to manage a peanut stand and, in principle, you are well on the road to knowing how to handle the affairs of the u. s. steel corporation. five steps there are: (1) analyze; (2) plan; (3) organize; (4) handle; (5) supervise. tackle any job on this basis and follow through. the chances that success will crown your efforts far outweigh the possibilities of failure. at least, approaching a job from these five successive angles should limit the causes of failure to circumstances quite beyond your control. * * * * * five principles of management, then. their skillful application to a business or to a job is the knack of managing. to do a real bang-up job of managing, whether carrying a message or directing a million-dollar business, the first step is: _don't make a single move until you've found out exactly what needs to be done._ but our first do turned out to be a don't. so let's restate it. _find out exactly what has to be done before you make a single move._ you've heard that before? and it doesn't mean a thing? neither did it mean a thing to a bright young man who was taken on as production manager in a shoe factory. the shoes were good. prices were right. business was booming. the factory was full of orders. but somehow or other shoes weren't getting shipped on time--or anything like on time. three to four weeks late came to be the customary thing. and customers were, needless to say, kicking like steers. so the bright young man was taken on to get things ironed out. he pitched in with vim and vigor. the first morning's mail brought a dozen complaints of slow deliveries. people were practically barefoot out in kansas and ohio. they were waiting for those shoes. "ha!" said the new production manager, "_nous verrons._" which means, even in english, "now, for what we are about to see, make us truly thankful." and he went away from there to see why those orders weren't out the door. he was out to prove something. and providence--rhode island--had supplied him with enough ammunition to shoot a manufacturing organization full of holes. each order was traced. one was in the shipping room. "what's holding this up?" he asked the shipping clerk. "haven't had time to ship it. and we got other shoes that have been waiting longer than those. it's a feast or a famine down here. some days we just can't get 'em out." "you're working short-handed. get a couple more packers. you've got to get those shoes out. the customers are hollering like hell. get 'em out!" he found another order up in the cutting room. but why report the conversation? it varied only in the number of cusswords used. it was always the old story. "can't be done." "put more people on then. will two be enough? or had we better make it three?" all down the line it went. more people. costs went up. and did orders get out? oh, yes, some did. but they got out at the expense of others. there was more congestion than ever. complaints increased. then the big boss called him in--and down--pointed out the increasing costs and asked how come. so the new production manager went back over his trail demanding retrenchment. "put 'em on" was changed to "take 'em off." the big boss tells the rest of the story. "he had simply jumped in without finding out what it was he had to do. maybe it was my fault for giving him too much rope. "anyway, he hanged himself--or rather we had to fire him. then we took on a quiet lad who had served his apprenticeship with a large electrical supply house. "he didn't know a twelve-iron sole from a three-quarter foxing. but he knew plenty about managing, as it turned out. "i watched him. things were in a bad way, you see, and getting no better fast. he did nothing much for several days but read his mail. sat around his office. didn't make a move to boss anyone. stuck his nose in here and there to find out what this clerk or that clerk was up to. "but no action. no tearing his shirt. no nothing. and the complaints were coming in with every mail. they never fazed him. one day i ran across him up in the fitting room. another time i bumped into him he was picking lasts out of the bins. again i saw him pushing empty racks into the heeling room elevator. "apparently i had picked another lemon. looked like the best thing he did was sit around and tap his teeth with a pencil. "he fooled me, though. one afternoon he dropped into my office with a map. he'd drawn it between taps. it was a good map with dotted lines to show just exactly what happened to an order--any order--every order. that map showed when it went into the works, where it went from there. and so on until it went out the shipping room door. that's what he'd been up to the day i saw him picking out lasts. and i tell you i never had any idea how many things could happen to an order. i never realized how shoes halted and stumbled and staggered around that factory of ours. "there were red lines, too. they showed the changes he proposed making. here he would stop backtracking. here was unnecessary travel. here was an old bottle neck and here was how he was going to crack it open. and look at those lasts lying idle with shoes upstairs waiting to be made on them! "that wasn't half. it was actually taking four days to get orders through the office routine. he showed me how certain necessary records that took time to make could be made after the shoes were in work. other short cuts would wipe whole days off our schedules. "there was nothing to it--when you saw it in red ink. in fact there's nothing half so convincing as red ink. there's been none on our books for the past five years--and during that time the shoe business has been no bed of roses. "what he proposed was simple as pie--if only someone had stopped to think. we'd simply got into bad habits. we were handling the work the same way we'd handled it back in the days when grandfather started the business. and this fellow had been smart enough to wait and wonder why. not wonder why either. _he went and found out how come._ "in thirty days we were back on earth. we were getting shoes out on time--many many days sooner than we'd even been able to before. and all because a smart young man, who didn't know a thing about shoes but a whole lot about managing, sat and tapped his teeth and drew a few pictures.--all because he had been in no hurry to act until he had found out just what had to be done." * * * * * it is so easy to jump to conclusions! if you look about a bit, you will see plenty of men who don't stop to find out what needs to be done before they start trying to do it. they're like the shortstop who hurries his play and tries to throw the runner out at first before he really gets his hands on the ball. an error is more often than not the result. managing, such men will tell you, is putting "pep" and "punch" into your work. pep and punch were once good words. but their good qualities have been so often extolled that most of us have lost sight of the fact that all the "drive" in the world is so much wasted energy when it isn't directed along the right lines. and when it isn't so directed, it comes pretty close to being the lowest form of human endeavor. witness the "go-getter" who really doesn't know what it's all about, but often succeeds in covering up a world of defects under a cloak of ill-directed energy. other men think they are finding out what needs to be done when actually they aren't even getting close to the root of the matter. with the best intentions in the world, they are grasping at the first straw the wind blows their way. eureka! they shout when they haven't found it at all, but are merely jumping all the way over the facts to conclusions! actually to know your business or your job demands analysis. you have a right to duck. it's another of those words that work overtime and have suffered as a result. a certain type of superficial business executive has done analysis no good. to him the impressiveness of the word suffices--to the complete exclusion of the simplicity of the act itself. and so analysis to you and _you_ and you has come to mean involved, complex research--running around a lot in circles and getting exactly nowhere. analysis has become for you an a1 example of the phrase-maker's art. real analysis of any problem in business can, however, be simple--in fact, _it can be nothing else but simple_. analysis, says noah webster, is "a resolution of anything, whether an object of the senses or the intellect, into constituent parts or elements; an examination of component parts, separately or in their relation to the whole." whooee! all that when he might have said "taking to pieces." for analysis is literally that--taking a thing to pieces to see what makes the wheels go round. not, however, with the destructive intent of the small boy who strews his watch all over the floor, but with the avowed purpose of getting right down to the sort of brass tacks which make it possible to see the composition of the whole clearly and plainly. analysis which befogs the issue is not analysis at all. it's--in the vernacular--a lot of "hooey." but the right kind of analysis "breaks down" the problem into its component parts--without losing sight of each part's relation to the whole. there may be only two parts to a job of managing. the messenger who analyzes his business correctly will find exactly two: where to go and what to do after he gets there--the simplest kind of problem and the simplest type of business analysis. but if the analysis consisted of twenty pieces instead of two, it would be no harder; it would only be longer. the production manager in the shoe factory analyzed his job correctly when he mapped out the route of an order. all he did was take the manufacturing process to pieces so that he could put the pieces together again to form a more efficient whole. so whether there are two or twenty or two hundred pieces, the act of analyzing--of taking to pieces--differs only in the amount of territory it covers. naturally it will be a somewhat more lengthy process to analyze the job of managing a steel mill than to separate a peanut stand and its operation into a few component parts. but the approach is always the same. and no matter how good you may be with the woods, how the approach does affect the final score! * * * * * consider for the moment that you have a house built of blocks and want to take it to pieces. a quick and easy way of separating it into its component parts would be a swift kick aimed down around the foundations. a quick method. but comes nothing. there are all your blocks lying on the floor, but so far as knowing what they're all about, you're worse off than ever you were before you kicked your house down. the other way of taking your house of blocks to pieces is to start with the roof and work backwards. the very thought, then, of "taking to pieces" suggests the correct way to undertake the analysis of a business or of a job. and a study of the methods of successful managers will convince the doubtingest thomas that starting at the top and working down to the cellar is the method they follow in the analysis of any business problem they have to tackle. once a busy ceramic manufacturer found himself in the restaurant business. he knew about all there was to know about dinnerware up to the point where it left his customers' counters. what went on after that was pretty much greek to him if you know what we mean. and then he became a restaurateur. all because his brother-in-law got into him for several thousand dollars and then couldn't quite seem to make the darned thing pay a profit. brother-in-law knew the game. oh, yes. he had worked for a number of years as assistant manager in a similar enterprise. with his "knowledge of the business," he should have made a success of this cafeteria of his. he knew how to handle the help, how to buy, how to run the kitchen, and so on. the operating details were as an open book to him. judged from every outward appearance, the cafeteria was up to standard. it should have climbed out of the red in short order. he had been taught to buy carefully and to manage economically. "well bought," he announced, "is half sold." he'd read it in a book and he thought he was being a good salesman. still the business stayed in the red. our ceramic friend was faced with kissing his investment goodbye--and probably with making a job in the pottery for a good restaurant man--with throwing good money after bad, or with getting into the cafeteria business. he figured this business ought to pay. somewhere, he knew, his brother-in-law had gone wrong. just where, he believed he could find out. so he took over the business. brother-in-law stayed on, leaving the new owner free to observe. and he did nothing but observe for a solid week. each night he made a list of the points in managing which had come up in the course of the day's work. in a week's time he had an accurate list of all the actual jobs of managing, as all bills except for gas and light and rent were paid and a profit and loss statement was taken each week. then he arranged the list in order of natural importance. it began with marketing and checking bills with deliveries, and ended with counting the money and depositing it in the bank. "hold on," he thought, "this isn't such a long way from running a pottery. what am i in this business for?" "because," he answered, "i want to leave as much of that money in the bank as possible, and mark it down as profit." so right away he started to draw pictures. the chart on this page is the result after he had worked it over and polished it up. +---------------------------------------+ | +-----------+ | | | making | +--------+ | | |the service| | keeping| | | | pleasing | /| down |\| | +-----------+ / |expenses| \ | / \ / +--------+ |\ +-----------+ | / +----------+ | \ |building up| | +---------+ | fixing | +--------+ | +-------+ | and | | | getting | | prices |__|guarding|_|_| net | |maintaining|_|_| more | | to be | |against | | | cash | | the | | |customers| | fair and | | waste | | |profits| | run-down | | | in | |attractive| +--------+ | +-------+ | cafeteria | | +---------+ +----------+ | / +-----------+ | \ / \ +---------+ |/ | \ / \| buying | / | +----------+ |supplies |/| | | making | |carefully| | | |the foods | +---------+ | | |attractive| | | +----------+ | +---------------------------------------+ note how it works backward from his final objective--"net profits." "now," questioned his _alter ego_, "how do i determine how much of that money stays in the bank as profit, and how much has to be checked out right away for expenses?" and from his handy list of managerial functions it was plain that it depended on three things--buying right, selling with as little waste as possible, and keeping expenses down. "now we're getting somewhere," he said to himself. "those things lead me right into my next job--which is to fix prices fairly. for what's the use of buying right, handling supplies carefully and keeping expenses right down to the bone unless my selling prices cover costs, yield a profit, and still look reasonable to the public?" yes, and the most attractive prices, backed up by careful buying and all the rest, wouldn't keep the dollars clinking merrily over the counter unless the food was so good and the service so excellent that customers bought liberally and came back for more. by this time, you'll note, on taking another peek at the chart, he had worked right back to his "number 1" job--getting more customers in. thus, by analysis, he found out definitely what had to be done--and what had to be done first. brother-in-law thought he knew, but he had begun at the wrong end. he had been looking after expenditures first and receipts last. he was trying to squeeze a little margin out of his receipts before he did anything about getting the receipts. how different the new owner's viewpoint! his brother-in-law, he found, was thoroughly competent. he'd simply got off on the wrong foot. in the kitchen and the storeroom, he was a good operator. but the new owner's place was "out front." his job was to "get more customers, get them to spend more--and to give them such good food and service that they would come back and bring their friends." he began by spending money. took out the gas pipe at the entrance. replaced it with a brass rail. provided a small lounging room where customers could wait for their friends. put in upholstered chairs so they could be comfortable while waiting. put attractive uniforms on attractive serving girls. there was an air of good taste about the place when he got through. then he changed the arrangement of the counters. but you know all about that--how the desserts came first so they would catch your eye before your tray was too heavily loaded with the heavier part of the meal. staples which offered a small margin of profit were relegated to places in the rear. dishes that made the best profit got the positions up front. each day he offered a low-priced "special." thus he planned to increase customers' purchases. and the business began to grow. that's all there is. there isn't any more. today he doesn't own a chain of cafeterias extending into many cities and feeding many thousands of people every day at a good profit. he's still a very successful ceramic manufacturer--and a cafeteria proprietor. "i flew in the face of tradition," he says. "'first watch your kitchen' is the cry of the restaurant man. but i started with what i wanted--net profits--and worked backward to make conditions that would provide net profits. "volume of business had to come first. i had to get it before i could get a margin of profit. "no doubt i could go out in the kitchen today and save some money. if i went to market myself, maybe i could save a cent a pound on my meats. but i can't give up my attention to the 'front' in order to watch the 'back.' as soon as i do that i'm going to be right back where i started." it would sound like heresy, wouldn't it, if we hadn't sat in and watched him begin with his final objective and work back through the means which make the objective possible. only by careful analysis would he have had courage enough to follow his plan through to its successful conclusion. and here's the amusing sequel. today, as he still dabbles at feeding people, he will admit that he's a better ceramic manufacturer as a result of his cafeteria experience. his pottery had always yielded a nice profit. when he sat down with his sheet of coordinate paper and analyzed it, he found his job of management differed not at all in its fundamentals. his first job he found was "out front" getting more customers in. a better knowledge of markets, a better job of selling, a better product--those were the ways to get the customers in and make them come back for more. and his need for a better product led him out into the plant where he found that tunnel kilns with exact temperature control would more than treble the production of the old periodic kilns--and would produce better ware. but that's another story. the important thing, anyway, is not what he found had to be done in the cafeteria and in the pottery, but how he found it. he took his business to pieces--backwards. he began with the objective he wanted to get--money. it was a simple matter to find that to get money from the business he had to get customers to come in and spend money; that to get customers to come in he must make his place look like a good place to come to; that to make his place look attractive he must spend money on equipment and thought on the arrangement and display of food. and there he had his big job cut out for him, with the other jobs following along in natural sequence. it altered the whole method of management. how this method of management is applied to your job is shown in the chart which follows. it's a skeleton of what the cafeteria man did. indeed, it's more than that. for it shows what every manager--whether he manages a steel mill, a punch-press department or a time-study job--must do if he is to get an honest-to-goodness perspective of his work. +----------------------+ +------------+ +----------------------+ +-----------+ | the work |__| the means |__| the final | | to be done | | for accomplishing it | | objective | +------------+ +----------------------+ +-----------+ +----------------------+ it can be done very simply. just a sheet of paper ruled in small squares--you can buy it at any stationer's--on which to fill in the steps you must take in between what you have to do and what you seek to accomplish by it--and some careful thought as to just what your job is and why it is to be done, will develop a true analysis of your problems which will beat reams and reams of typewritten words. remember the words of the chinese philosopher: "a picture is worth ten thousand words"--and reflect how clever these chinese are! the means for accomplishing the final objective may be many or few. you have seen the cafeteria-manager's problems on the chart on page 24. now turn to page 35 and see what a file clerk does beside powder her nose from nine to five. a bright young lady fresh out of high school went to work in an editorial office. there wasn't enough filing to do to keep her happy from nine to five, so she filled in with a bit of typing here and a trifle of routine clerical work there. thursdays she hopped over to the neighboring bookstore and collected _saturday posts_ for the editors--now she'll have to do that on tuesday. and fridays she distributed _the new yorkers_ to avid readers. filing, though, was her main job. when she first came, the managing editor said "here it is" or words to that effect, and she went to work. those files had always been more or less of a sore point. an editor's mail is nothing if not voluminous. and every day flossie the fascinating file clerk got a mass of data which she had to stick away. her great trouble was finding it again after she'd stuck it away. often she couldn't find it. and pretty soon she discovered that she got the blame no matter what was missing--whether an important inquiry from peter b. stilb or the editor's pipe cleaners. she couldn't do a thing about the pipe cleaners, but she made up her mind that since she was held responsible when a letter got lost, she would also have the responsibility of changing the filing system. the system, she felt sure, was to blame. one day when she was "on her lunch" and the editors didn't need cigarettes from the corner drugstore, she sat down and made an analysis of her problem. curiously enough, she started at the end and worked backwards. she worked backwards, not because someone told her that was the right way to analyze her job, but probably because she was only a file clerk and no one ever told her anything. "why," she asked herself, "do i file these old papers anyway?" "so i can find them again, quickly and surely, when they're wanted," seemed to be the only answer to that. "what's the right way to file these letters and papers and data so i can find them quickly?" was her next question. "arrange them like words in the dictionary--one place, and only one place, where each can be," was only common sense. in the filing system which she had inherited, there were a dozen places for each set of data. there was a file on "industries" with sub-files for "automobiles" and all the rest; a file for data on "railroads," with two or three sub-files. the file clerk had to use judgment and discretion in selecting the heading under which each letter or piece of data was filed. and she wasn't hired for judgment and discretion. sometimes, too, the editors erred in their descriptions of the material they wanted. +-----------------+ | arrangement |\ | of file so that | \ | title of data | \ | wanted will show| \ +----------------+ | exact spot to | +------------+ +----------+ | only one place | /| look for it | | to produce | | filing |__| to file |/ | +----------------+ |any desired | | all data | | regardless | +-| cross-index of | |data without| +----------+ | of nature | | classes | | delay | | of thing filed | |showing for each| +------------+ +----------------+ |class the title | |of each piece in| | that class | +----------------+ one file, arranged alphabetically--one place to look, regardless of the thing looked for--was the logical conclusion, viewed from the standpoint of _finding_. the managing editor was horrified. mix "railroads" with "public service," and "manufacturing" with "agriculture"? "why," asked the file clerk, looking back at her analysis, "why care how things are _kept_ so long as they can be _found_ quickly? when you send me for camels, do you care, so long as you get them quickly, whether they're kept next to chesterfields, or right beside the chewing gum? when the chief asks for data on 'c.p.r.' does he care, if he gets it right away, whether it was filed next to data on 'coal' or beside facts about other railroads?" "all right," objected the managing editor, "suppose someone asks for all the data we have on railroads?" not a bad question. it was from a _finding_ standpoint. "have a separate cross-index by classes," was the answer. "that is, under 'railroads' have a card showing the name of every----" "but look at the extra work." back to her analysis went the file clerk. "why file at all, except to make it easy to find what we file? if we were to set up a system for _easiest filing_, we'd simply put everything in boxes just as it comes to us. our main objective is to make information easy to _find_, and anything that increases the work of filing but lessens the work of finding, is profitable." the result was a filing system that has made a great mass of data as accessible as the words in the dictionary. and it has taken the human equation out of the job. no longer does the file clerk have to stop and use her judgment as to where she shall file mr. stilb's letter. there is one place and just one place. and the basis of the plan was the simple process of analyzing--of starting with the final objective and working backward--not forward from the work to be done. in hundreds of business offices--in countless industrial plants--time, labor and money are being wasted today in outmoded methods which, like topsy, "just grew." the manager who started them didn't stop to reason out first exactly what had to be done--or if he did, he failed to work backward from the final objective. one way is as bad as the other. in fact, it may even be better not to reason at all than fail to get to the very bottom and reason out the absolute right of what has to be done. at least it takes less time. a sure way, incidentally, to avoid making mistakes in your analysis is to do it on paper. a professor of mathematics in one of the large universities always tells his students that no problem should be performed in the head that can be done on paper. "make pencil and paper do as much as you can, for your brain has enough to do to supervise the work." until your mind is trained to the habit of quick, accurate analysis, you'll find it helps to do the work on paper. keep on hand a small supply of blank charts like the one on page 31, on which to sketch an analysis of new work or of important decisions. the constant performance of this detail will of itself train your mind to look at problems more analytically, and automatically to sift and classify them more logically. perhaps you can improve on the chart shown on page 31. surely you can adapt it better to your own needs. but force yourself to some such method. it will help you to cultivate the instinct of shrewd, rapid analysis--and at the same time it cannot help giving you a keener, surer insight into the particular problem, no matter how complex or how simple it may be. sometimes it is the apparently simple problems that need analysis most. for example---did you ever hear of a sales organization that didn't have a stenographic problem? the new york office of a western factory was no exception. the manager was broadminded--even liberal--with his salesmen. but when it came to stenographers, he was decidedly scotch. valuable men sat around the office mornings and evenings waiting for a chance to dictate to a staff of girls which was measured to fit the average load of the day, but not the rush load of the two hours a day when the salesmen were inside. dictating machines seemed to be the answer. the sales manager figured they would not only solve the dictation problem, but would further reduce stenographic costs. they were installed. at the same time the stenographic force was cut to insure keeping all the girls busy all the day. good. the salesmen were able to dictate when they felt like it. but often the letters dictated were a day or two late in being transcribed. complaints increased. and the manager lost his temper: "what's the matter with this cursed letter-writing business?" he demanded. "why the sam hill do we have typists and stenographers?" well, why? he calmed down a bit, seized a sheet of paper and mapped out his problem. this is what he wrote: 1. salesmen's letters are to save salesmen's time and to give prompt service to customers. 2. i don't begrudge half a day's time of a $20-a-day salesman to call on a customer. then it's still profitable to waste half of the time of a $4-a-day stenographer in order to save a long trip for a salesman, or to get a quick answer to a question. 3. what we need is enough typists to transcribe every letter of every salesman promptly, even if part of them have to be idle half the day. the increased use of sales letters, the greater freedom salesmen feel in their dictation, the number of selling details now promptly handled by mail without an expensive call--all are directly traceable to the manager's analysis which he made by using the final objective as a starting point. he's a convert to the pencil and paper method. sales problems are part of his daily exercise. he goes to the bottom of them instinctively. but any problems that arise concerning office work, he settles only after analyzing from front to back--on paper. his method of charting his analysis differs in appearance from the chart on page 31, but it is identical in principle and effect. it works from final objective backward. one more application of the same knack of analysis--and we are done. it is that of an ohio manufacturer who recently put up a new building. plans prepared by the architect called for four stories and a basement. when it came time to discuss arrangement of space, it was found that one department would have to go in the basement. there were objections from all sides. the manufacturer ended up by taking the problem home with him to take to pieces and put together again. he began--fortunately--with the final objective. "what's this new building for?" obviously, to provide more space for enlarged operations. "how much space is needed?" he went over the figures and plans and found the four main floors weren't enough. "then why not a fifth floor?" as long as a bigger building was to be built, why not make it big enough? why not another full story instead of a basement? why not, indeed! come to find out, no one knew just why a basement had been considered. the old building had one, and apparently that was the only reason for proposing one for the new building. a full story would give all the general storage space of a basement and also give regular working quarters for the department crowded out of the four upper floors. and when the architect was consulted, it was found that with the extras for excavation, waterproofing and the like, the cost of a basement was considerably more than the cost of another full story. yet, but for the manufacturer's analysis of the building problem from the point of final objective, the basement would have gone in--simply because no one had stopped to think, and think clearly and logically. logical thinking is a trait that can be cultivated. every problem thought through by means of some such simple help as we have suggested, makes the mind more ready to tackle the next problem. some men's minds grow so keen by practising that sort of thinking that they automatically take things to pieces as they listen. before you finish talking to them, they have already analyzed your statement and are planning on its execution--or are ready to reject it. sometimes it's intuition. but rarely. usually, it is nothing more than cultivated knack. cultivate accuracy first. speed of analysis will come of itself. _don't start until you know exactly where you're going._ there is no task so trifling, no business so large, that its management does not need to analyze exactly what there is to do. ii planning in the preceding chapter we have been busily engaged in taking things to pieces. now we've got to put them together again. our house of blocks has been resolved into its component parts, not by aiming a swift kick at its midriff, but by starting at the top and working backwards. now to rebuild. our first care, at this stage of the game, is to remember that analysis is never an end but simply the means to an end. the immediate end, this time, is to rearrange the pieces so that the job to be done can be done in the most effective way--the way that saves the most effort, the most time, the most money--the way which, in your business--and in _yours_ and yours--leads to net profits. again it should be emphasized that net profit, in any job of managing, is the ultimate goal. our danger, then, is that we may find ourselves down on the floor surrounded by our blocks--and with never a trace of a plan for rebuilding the house, and rebuilding it in the simplest, most economical way. in short, we must be sure we are taking things to pieces, not for the sake of taking them to pieces, but purely and simply _to find out what has to be done_. like the golfer who played golf so much in order to keep fit for golf, we have here a good old-fashioned beneficent circle. analysis without a plan isn't worth a whoop in hades. it's time kissed goodbye. wasted effort. and, in like manner, a plan without an analysis isn't worth the paper it's typed on. psmith in your office is a great "planner". he always has something on the fire. but somehow or other he never quite puts things over. his plans don't get across. why not? oh, just because he doesn't bother to analyze his problem--because he sets out to _do_ what has to be done even before he _knows_ what has to be done. he doesn't base his plan upon an actual need. pbrown, on the other hand, is a keen analytical thinker. a student. he's a shark at taking things to pieces and finding out what has to be done. but when he's done that, he's all done. he lacks the initiative that starts things moving. he hasn't that divine spark of something or other that gets things done. a stick of dynamite wouldn't do a bit of good. he simply hasn't the knack of building a plan. he knows what has to be done. he doesn't know how to do it. psmith and pbrown--or pbrown and psmith--would make a fast team. but psmith without pbrown's analytical ability, or pbrown without psmith's capacity for planning how to get things done, isn't worth his weight in gold to _any_ business enterprise. a manufacturer friend tells an amusing yarn about a pbrown he hired as sales manager. "he went around analyzing everything from soup to nuts--the gadgets in our line, our markets, our competition, our salesmen. "he was an analyzer _de luxe_. and all i ever got out of all his analyses was a distinct feeling that something was wrong with every gadget we made, that our markets were saturated, that our competitors had us backed off the map, and that our salesmen were a bunch of ribbon clerks. "so," he continues, "i did a little analyzing all my own. and analyzed him out of his job. today he's managing a filling station where they drive in for the most part and take it away from him. but in his place i got a man who found out what was wrong with gadgets, markets, salesmen--and right away he built a plan which sold goods." thus the futility of analysis without planning. there's the danger, too, of getting away from the simplicity of true analysis. a job undertaken by an advertising agency for a rubber manufacturer supplies a case in point. stripped of all the details, the task was to find out whether or not the manufacturer might profitably engage in the making of hard rubber tires for industrial trucks and trailers. if names are changed and products substituted, think nothing of it. the principle's the thing. the agency began by analyzing the business to a fare-you-well. everyone and everything got cross-examined. it took three months. and when the analysis was done it told the manufacturer everything from where the rubber grew to where the money went to and came from. the trouble was, he knew all that before--or as much of it as he wanted to know. the report, in the words of a chicago columnist, was just "64 dam pages." it didn't tell him one blessed thing he wanted to know. or rather it was so full of plunder that he couldn't make head nor tail of it. it wasn't simple. and because it wasn't simple, it was a far, far cry from true analysis. well, well, the rubber manufacturer went out in the byways and got him a young man who was told to find out, if he could, whether or not there was any market for hard rubber tires on gas and electric industrial trucks, tractors and trailers, and allied equipment. he found, for example, that there were 40,000 trucks and tractors in service; that annual sales were about 3,200 units. he discovered that, of trailers and hand lift trucks, 125,000 each were in service; annual sales were 12,000 and 10,000 units respectively. but when he came to floor and hand trucks, conservative estimates showed 8,000,000 in use, while annual sales were in the neighborhood of 250,000! next he found out, as accurately as possible, how many hard rubber tires were sold as original equipment. the 3,200 trucks and tractors had 12,300 wheels. but 95 per cent of them were equipped with rubber tires at the factory. on the other hand, only 7 per cent of the floor and hand trucks were thus equipped! outside of the truck and tractor people, he found the equipment makers opposed to hard rubber tires. let's not go into the reasons. yet representative manufacturers in a dozen different lines stated, when he asked them: "all future equipment purchased by us will be equipped with rubber tires." the whole report wasn't twelve pages long. and three tables, carefully compiled from available facts and figures, told the manufacturer everything he wanted to know. in short, upon this simple analysis, he was able to build a plan for manufacturing and merchandising solid rubber tires. much good, though, it would have done him had he done his planning first and then found out there weren't enough wheels to wear the tires after he had made them! * * * * * so much for our "beneficent circle." let us look into this thing called planning and find out if there isn't some way of developing a knack of planning which will help us over the second major hurdle in our road to managing. there is, we shall find, a single problem with which the planner, the constructive manager, deals. again, it doesn't make a particle of difference whether it's mr. schwab and bethlehem steel or tonio and his peanut stand. no business is so "different" that the principles of management fail to apply. all right, then. the problem of every planner is first to determine what is the primary moving force--the "initiative"--behind his job, and then to find the easiest place to apply that force in order to set up the required motion or activity with the least amount of effort that will get the best results. a long sentence. go over it again and you will find it is divided into four distinct parts: 1. deciding on the primary moving force with which to set the wheels in motion. 2. applying this force at the proper place to get easiest action. 3. directing this action along lines which either offer least resistance or assure greatest accomplishment. 4. bringing the activities to a focus at the place or time that will best carry the work to a successful conclusion. the primary moving force may be the selection of media in an advertising plan; it may be the pushing of a button in the white house which opens a dam in arizona, a century of progress in chicago, or the annual convention of whammit manufacturers at atlantic city; or it may be the memo from the big boss which gives the research department _carte blanche_ on a development project. to apply this initiative to a place where it will get quick action may be to suggest an idea in the headline of an advertisement that will set the reader to thinking of salmon fishing at mooselookmeguntic, or of the time the ice cubes gave out just when they shouldn't. or it may be to classify the output of a factory before shipping so that freight cars can be packed to best advantage or so that lowest freight rates may be secured. or it may be a simple method of sorting mail so that subordinates get the jobs they can handle and only the important business is brought to the president's attention. directing this activity along the lines that assure greatest accomplishment may be--in the advertisement--the presentation of facts or advantages which will persuade the reader that the fishing tackle you manufacture is desirable. again, it may be the dovetailing of a thousand elements in a huge project like the russian five-year plan so that an adequate supply of ore will be available when the blast furnaces roar into operation; so that the steel will be on hand when production in the cheliabinsk tractor works is stepped up to meet the requirements of the new agricultural regime. or it may involve the simple sweeping of a floor in a manner which raises a minimum of dust. and bringing the activities to a successful conclusion may mean working up the arguments of the advertisement to the psychological closing of a sale--to the point where the ardent member of the isaak walton league figures he can live no longer without your fishing tackle and sets out gaily in the general direction of abercrombie and fitch's. or it may be coordinating the entire production of a factory so that the diesel generator set ordered by the santa fã© can be delivered at the exact date specified in the original order. or it may be handling the day's correspondence on the credit man's desk so that letters which must "make the century" are ready to go at 11:45--so that the rest of the day's work is ready to sign, stamp and mail before the 5 o'clock whistle blows. four elements, then, in any job which is to be planned. every plan, if practicable, will follow them. there is, by way of further illustration, the story of the factory manager of a food manufacturing plant who laid out a plan for an operation no more intricate than the scrubbing of the floors at night. now it can be told. and for two good reasons. first, because it was a practical plan which, even on such a lowly operation, saved quite a bit of money. second, because in its construction the plan is, from the point of view of our four elements, what has sometimes been called a "natural." one night, it seems, the manager and his wife went to the movies. the town didn't have daylight time, so it was quite dark. they passed the plant, a large six-story building. "why, ed!" exclaimed the wife, "you didn't tell me the factory was working nights." ed, like most husbands, was in the habit of telling friend wife 'most everything. for once he was at a loss. sure enough, the lights were going full tilt on all floors. hitting on all six, you might say. then he laughed. it all came to him--"it's just the scrubwomen at work." one feature picture, one newsreel and one animated cartoon later, they walked past the plant again. "look, the factory's still lit up," remarked the wife who turned off the living room lights religiously when she went out to get supper ready. this time ed didn't laugh. in days like these one doesn't. not, at any rate, at the thought of mounting electricity bills. the very next evening he was on the job. time somebody found out what was what. in came the cleaners. they switched on the office lights--all of them--and two of the crew went to work. a couple of others went up to the second floor, switched on all the lights and pitched in with a vim. and so _ad infinitum_--or at least to the sixth story. and all the while the electric meter went round and round! twenty-four hours later the janitor had a new plan of work. first the manager thought he'd start the whole crew at the top and work down. on second thought, a better plan was born--like the goddess of wisdom who sprang full grown from her papa's forehead. if i must go at this cleaning job, he thought, i might just as well make a first-class job of it and save not only on light, but on cleaners, too. we shall pass lightly over that part of his plan which had to do with releasing scrubwomen for other productive work, for in days like these--or in any other day--we just can't figure out that sort of thing. but goodness gracious, sometimes it's necessary. the emphasis, then, shall be on the electric current saved. the plan called for the entire crew's working together on one floor at a time--on the well-founded theory, of course, that teamwork would accomplish more in less time. besides, since it was necessary to turn on all the lights on the floor, why not get the full benefit from them by having the entire gang at work? so far, so good. the surprise comes when you learn that he didn't have them start at the top and work down. he started them at the bottom and worked them up. "and i'll tell you why," explained the manager, "they have to climb six floors anyway, so they might as well work up as walk up. besides, by leaving the stairs till the last, they can work their way down as well as up." in other words, they went to work right where they came in. and when they had finished, they were right back where they started--back where they went out on their way home. simple, isn't it? an immediate reduction in lighting bills was noticeable. even the amateur mathematician among you can figure that with one floor out of six lighted at a time, five-sixths of the light was saved. besides, the work was done in less time--it wasn't long before two cleaners were reading the want ads. but why go into that? we aren't, for that matter, interested so much in the savings made, because it is exceedingly doubtful if many of us pass our factories or our offices on the way to the movies. we may never have an opportunity to put this particular plan to work. what we are interested in, though, is the fact that this cleaning plan utilizes the four basic elements which we've said must be present in every job of planning. look at the chart. it shows the movement of energy in the manager's plan for handling his crew. starting the scrubbers on the ground floor--they had to begin there anyway, no matter when they began to scrub--was nothing but applying the primary force at the best point to get the easiest action. working them up floor by floor was simply directing the activity along both the lines of least resistance and greatest accomplishment. and doing the stairs on the way down was just focusing the activity at the right point for making a successful conclusion--that is, winding up the job at the exit. +------------------------------------+ +---------+ | | | stairs | | 6th floor ------------ | | /|\ | | | | +--------------------------------|---+ | | | | | | | +--------------------------------|---+ | | | | | | | | | | 5th floor | | | | | | /|\ | | | | +--------------------------------|---+ | | | | | | | +--------------------------------|---+ | | | | | | | | | | 4th floor | | | | | | /|\ | | | | +--------------------------------|---+ | | | | | | | +--------------------------------|---+ | | | | | | | | | | 3rd floor | | | | | | /|\ | | | | +--------------------------------|---+ | | | | | | | +--------------------------------|---+ | | | | | | | | | | 2nd floor | | | | | | /|\ | | | | +--------------------------------|---+ | | | | | | | +--------------------------------|---+ | | | | | | | | | | ground floor | | | \|/ | | /|\ | | | +--------------------------------|---+ +---------+ | +------------------------------+ | | application of primary force |- +------------------------------+ turn back now to the four elements of successful planning as we set them down on page 54. try them out on any successful plan and assure yourself that not a point has been stretched. by using them we shall learn the constructive, creative knack of planning. stripped of the "clothes" which every plan wears--it's only in the clothing that plans differ--this knack of planning may be quite simply visualized by some such chart as the one shown on the opposite page. there you see the primary force--the initiative that sets the plan in action. second, the point of application--where you must hit if you're going to win. third, the various activities which bring about the successful conclusion. and fourth, all these activities headed up at the focusing point. it's just like the sailor off the whaler who picks up the wooden mallet, hits the plunger a resounding crack, sends the weight hurtling up the pole, rings the bell--and gets a good 5-cent cigar. or like the golfer who, putter in hand, strokes the ball firmly "in the direction of least resistance and greatest accomplishment," sees it hit the back of the cup and drop in for a par four. |\ | \ | \ +--------------+ various activities | the \ | the "primary | point of necessary to bringing |"focusing | moving force"| application about a successful |point"/ +--------------+ conclusion | / | / |/ watch these four essentials. knowing them and using them continually will enable you to break down every job of planning into its component parts--will enable you to develop that important side of your managing faculties--whether your work is merely the carrying out of a job or shouldering the responsibilities of a huge business. * * * * * remember the production manager in the shoe factory? rather sketchy was the story of the analysis he made. let's go a bit more into the details of the plan which was based on the analysis. and, at the same time, examine it to see if it checks with our four elements. you remember he was hired to find out why the so-and-so shoes didn't move out the door on time. and you'll remember that instead of clanking up and down from one department to another, he was seen one day picking out lasts from a bin in the assembly room. he had crept up quietly on the point of application. the initiative, you see, or the primary moving force, was the boss's order to get shoes to moving. here (in the lasting room) was his point of application. the biggest factor in slowing up shoes, he found, was failure to have lasts ready the instant the uppers came down cut and stitched from the fitting room. the shoes were entered into work with almost entire disregard of this vital point. oh, yes, they knew they once bought so many pairs of lasts on this style or that in such and such sizes. and in a vague sort of way they tried to regulate the number of pairs sent to the cutting room with the number of lasts which they thought should be available the day the shoes reached the assembly department where uppers, insoles, bottoms and lasts met together--or should have. a single missing size could hold up a 36-pair lot which included a run of sizes all the way, say, from 7-1/2 to 12. today it's all so different. a running inventory is kept of every active last. each day the lasts which are released as shoes leave the finishing room are added to the supply on hand; at the same time, the lasts which are to be used that day in lasting incoming lots are subtracted. a job? no, a good girl of moderate intelligence simply added it to a dozen other office chores which she finds time to do daily. the running inventory, you see, is one of the various activities which, aimed at the focusing point--the moving of shoes out the door--are necessary to bring about a successful conclusion--the successful conclusion, in this particular instance, probably being the saving of the young man's scalp--for the boss was certainly out to get it the day he saw the young production manager pawing over the chunks of maple in the lasting room. other activities might be mentioned. plenty of them. an automatic conveyor which brought back empty racks to the point where they were needed. semi-automatic elevators which made possible the rapid moving of shoes from floor to floor. twelve-pair lots which simplified the handling problem, made the job of picking out lasts an easier one--and all in all did much to take the weight off management's shoulders. all these and more are the activities which were needed to bring about a successful conclusion. they were all part of the plan. today, in that shoe factory, the production manager sits down for an hour in the forenoon and an hour in the afternoon and schedules the next half-day's work which will go to the cutting room. two girls have been moderately busy getting him the information he needs. sales have been brought up to date within half a day. he knows how many kid shoes he can cut, how many calf. he knows which patterns can be cut by machine, which must be cut by hand. he knows that certain patterns take longer to go through the fitting room. there's extra stitching or fancy perforations. he must lay off those. and last of all, he knows what he can count on in the way of lasts when the shoes hit the lasting room. with his two girls, the young production manager does all the work of scheduling. actually, there isn't much work. management, you see, has done an awfully nice job of planning. * * * * * picture now the manufacturer of small electrical appliances who sought to lay out new avenues of growth. his was pretty much a seasonal business. electric fans constituted most of his bread-and-butter production. early in the year and well on into the spring his plant ran full blast getting out merchandise for sale during the warm, muggy days when sirius is in the ascendant. and then along in the summer and fall his production curves went into a serious decline. to level them out would have meant carrying a load of finished inventory which he could ill afford. other appliances, such as hair curlers and driers which might conceivably find a ready sale during the holiday season, helped considerably--but not enough. the rough places were by no means made plane. why not, thought he, a line of toys which would enable him to utilize his present production set-up profitably during the slack summer and fall? why not, indeed? so he set out to chart a plan of action beginning, as you will see from the figure, with the furnishing of amusement as the primary force. his point of attack was through the 15,000,000 american boys who love to build something. on he went to the various ways of getting parents interested as the activities which should lead to a successful conclusion--to the linking up of those activities with the retail store as the job of focusing them on the final achievement--sales. +---------------------------------+ |wholesome amusement and education| +---------------------------------+ | \|/ +---------------------------------+ | 15 million boys who want to play| | and love to build | +---------------------------------+ | \|/ +---------------------------------+ | bought for by 7,500,000 parents | +---------------------------------+ | \|/ +-------------------+ | can be reached by | +-------------------+ | \|/ +---------------+---------------+---------------+ | | | | +---------+ +-----------+ +----------+ +-----------+ |magazines| | attention | | window | | | |they read| | caught in | | displays | | the boy | +---------+ | stores | +----------+ | himself | | +-----------+ | | | +---------+ | | +-----------+ | list of | +--------------+ +--------------+ | |magazines| |description of| |description of| | |carrying | |demonstration | | window advg. | | |our advg.| | offer | | offer | | +---------+ +--------------+ +--------------+ | \ | | | \ | | +-------------------+ \ | | | | \ | | +-------------+ +--------------+ \ | | |list of boys'| |description of| \ | | |papers advsd.| |prize contest | \ | | | in | +--------------+ \ | | +-------------+ / \ | | | / \ | | | / +-------------------------------------------+ | all leading to | +-------------------------------------------+ | \|/ +-------------------------------------------+ | the store that sells our toys | +-------------------------------------------+ only the bare headings on the plan are shown in the chart. nevertheless it shows clearly the same knack of using the four elements which we have been at such pains to discuss. the chart proved helpful, not only in guiding the management in its efforts to enlarge the scope of manufacturing activities, but also in giving the office and the sales force a true picture of the business. so helpful, indeed, did it prove that it was blueprinted. and today every salesman has one pasted in his selling portfolio. it's the first thing the dealer sees. and it has gone far in arousing the latter's interest and confidence. if you were a dealer, would you buy from a factory that was run by guess and by gob when you could give your business to a concern which you knew was functioning in accordance with a sound, well-formulated plan? there, if you please, lies the answer. * * * * * it is not within the purpose of this chapter, incidentally, to play any favorites. time must be taken out at this point, therefore, to return to the messenger boy who, when we left him, had just finished analyzing his job. let's see now how his plan of action is based upon what the analysis taught him. let's examine this elementary job of managing, not because it may make better messengers of us, but because the examination will show how universal this thing called management is--because it will afford one more proof of our general axiom that the principles of management are ever the same, no matter what particular paraphernalia of business may be used to cover up its old bones. did, then, the messenger boy work out his plan in accordance with our four basic elements? he did, if he was really managing his job--and from the careful analysis he made, we may assume he was. if his trip meant riding a street car, then going to the cashier for carfare is his primary force. if he can walk, then the primary force is simply getting under way. hastening as directly as possible to the car line is applying the force at the easiest place to get results. perhaps he might have to choose between a slow street car which would carry him right to his destination for seven cents, and a fast elevated which, for a dime, would make better time but leave several blocks to walk at the other end. deciding between the two is directing the activities along lines of greatest accomplishment. and getting his transfer, leaving the car, and going straight to the address on the message, are nothing more nor less than focusing his activities at the point of achievement. you see? the colonel's lady in her parisian peignoir and judy o'grady in her sleazy slip were sisters under the skin. so, if we may stretch a physiological point, are our messenger boy and the man who made the toys. the plans of both were built on the same foundation. or take the plan by which the new general manager of a tap and die concern rehabilitated his company's business. "why," he said, reaching for a pad of paper and roughly sketching something that looked like a funnel and must have been because he said it was, "our manufacturing plan looked about like this. up here at the top we poured in a lot of orders and hoped to high heaven some of them would finally trickle through at the bottom. "some of them did drop through. others dropped because we poked sticks up the flue. that is to say, an army of stock chasers did their level best to keep everyone happy. "it was bedlam around the shop. it took three months on an average to complete an order. "i found much of the delay was due to certain victorian notions about set-up time. the prevailing idea was to give an operator a good big job to minimize that item of expense. "sometimes the job was so big it took 60 days to run it through a single operation. "oh, me! oh, my! the inventories of finished goods that piled up. the tote boxes full of work in process that cluttered up the scenery. "and the complaints from customers who were waiting for orders! "funny thing about our business, you can't get a customer to accept a couple of 1/4-in. taps in place of the 1/2-in. one he's ordered. "so i had to revamp the whole shooting match. first on the program was to find out what was made and what was making. then we withdrew from the shop all work in process except what actually applied on orders in the house or what was needed to fill out our stock on an item on which we had no order, but on which past experience had taught us we'd get one in the course of the next 30 days. "you should have seen the pile of tote boxes we stuck under the boilers. "well, the next job was to figure out the most economical lots to send through the works. that figure was arrived at simply by choosing such a size that no single operation could possibly take more than a day. in a word, i made sure that every single lot would move every single day. "do you get the picture? a steady flow of manufacturing. no funnel. no poking around with sticks. today there aren't any stock chasers. none is needed. work reaches the stockroom on time. orders are filled complete the same day they come in. inventories are lower. oh, heck, need i go on?" no, he needn't. for already he has shown us how the motive force was applied at the right point to get results. take this plan apart--or any other plan that really works--and you will see that it is built upon the four elements of planning. they make the planning wheels go round. * * * * * now it's time to take your own job of planning to pieces and see if it, too, does not meet the test. here, again, as when the analysis was made, it helps to set things down on paper. in charting, you will find that by painstaking application of our four principles along the lines diagrammed in the figure on page 65, you can lay out a working plan depending for its approach to perfection only upon the amount of thought put into it, and upon the degree of accuracy with which the analysis of the job was made. the chart you make may be only a guide to the complete plan. some plans require details which utterly preclude any form of expression so simple as a chart. other plans can be laid out on the actual chart shown. in any event, the very attempt to put your plan into diagrammatic form will develop practicability and accuracy of arrangement. the very necessity of having to indicate and to select the primary force back of your job or business; having to trace that force through the various activities necessary to completed work; and then having visibly and physically to concentrate all these activities at one point--those very acts which making a chart compels you to perform, enforce a mastery of the essential details of your business and a grasp of their relations which every manager should have. perhaps the plan you have isn't as hot as you think it is. an office manager friend of ours was pretty proud of his system until one day he charted it. his company was famous for the quality of work turned out. but the service it gave was wretched. special instructions were often ignored. delivery dates were overlooked. all that sort of thing. the system looked good enough. the office manager said the mistakes were due to carelessness. and it looked as if he were right. so when something went wrong, the nearest employee got a handsome bawling out. at last the sales force jumped on him with both feet. too many promises had been broken. so the office manager was forced to do something about it. and, quite by accident, made a chart of the actual plan of work. hello, what was this? half a dozen responsibilities were standing around absolutely unchaperoned, you might say. someone might come along and pick them up, or then again---for example, if a customer on the west coast ordered a bill of goods, and then, while the order was in work, decided he wanted half the goods shipped by boat through the canal and the other half by fast freight, maybe he'd get his shipments that way and maybe he wouldn't. under the prevailing "plan" that particular sort of job didn't fall inside any one man's bailiwick. no one man was responsible for seeing that such orders were executed. no "machinery" had therefore been provided for taking care of them. that's only a sample of some of the duties which landed--in his diagrammatic representation of the actual plan of work--somewhere off the map. for all the action they got, they might as well have been painted ships upon a painted ocean. methods in general, you see, were pretty much all right. but there was no recognized initiative back of the plan. activities were set in motion more or less spontaneously. as a result, certain parts of the business were left without managerial supervision. nothing is surer to expose such a condition than actually to chart a plan. in this instance, it was simple to recognize "following customers' instructions"--no matter when, why, or how they came--as the logical primary force. then the whole trouble was taken care of by centering the responsibility upon the chief of the order department. from then on, all instructions regarding any order cleared through him. thus it will be seen that the idea back of charting a plan is not to get something you can work to as an ideal in carrying on a job, but rather to get a practical framework on which the work can actually be done. then it is at once evident whether the "clothes" of the business are hanging on the right limb or whether they have been hung up somewhere on the ground where, like as not, nobody will bother to pick them up. too often the plan turns out to be a "sketch." the builder waits until the architect's first sketch has become a plan. in business it's like that, too. when finally you know, from analysis, _what you want to accomplish_, it is not difficult to plan the procedure if you start right and forget nothing. you start right if you take time to figure out the primary initiative. you forget nothing if you take the trouble to set things down in black and white. and finding the motive force and figuring out where to hit with it, is nothing more nor less than charting the moves of the game until you find a succession of activities moving along without back-tracking, without duplication, without wasted effort or supervision. thus cultivating the knack of planning is a long step in the direction of becoming a good manager. if you were going to try to tell someone else how to cultivate the knack of planning, the story of the two men shaving in the pullman washroom serves to illustrate the point. both men seemed to be in a hurry. the first hustled over to one of the wash basins, scrubbed his face and hands, dried them on a towel. then he began to shave. that finished, he washed the lather from his face, dried himself again on another towel, and put away his razor. next came his teeth. he brushed them, washed away the traces of tooth paste, and dried himself on a third towel. all this time the other fellow was going through the same motions--but in a much different order. he began with his teeth. after he had brushed them, he lathered his face. after he had shaved, a single wash was enough and a single towel did the drying job. he had finished his canteloupe and was well along with his eggs before his companion reached the diner. number two didn't do a better job of brushing his teeth, of shaving, of washing. but he _did_ do a better job of planning. he started where each operation would lead directly and naturally into the next, performing each at the proper time. after all, isn't that precisely what you do in planning any part of your business? iii organizing the work remember psmith and pbrown? one could analyze, but didn't know what to do with his analysis after he got it. the other was an expert planner, but alas! his plans were never based upon the solid foundation of actual necessity. he planned to do something before he knew what had to be done. psmith and pbrown, together, looked like a grand pair when we introduced them in the chapter on planning. now, after taking particular pains to give that impression, we shall have to break right down and confess in open meeting that they are but two numbers of the management team. probinson is the third. probinson organizes the work. psmith may analyze to a fare-you-well; pbrown may plan till he's blue in the face--their best efforts are as of nothing worth unless probinson is on hand to organize the work of the business. for as surely as there is a knack of analyzing and a knack of planning, just so surely is there a knack of organizing the work. thus we approach the third phase of the job of managing. so far we have seen how the successful manager starts from the top, working backward, to chart his job--and then, having found out what has to be done, builds his plan for doing it. analysis and planning, however, will carry him just so far. unless he acquires the knack of organization, he will never make a howling success of his job--he will fall just short of being an outstanding manager. the office manager for an eastern concern affords the needed illustration. p. c.--those aren't his initials--knew office management from a to izzard. first to arrive in the morning, last to leave at night, he had a tremendous capacity for hard labor. but he never seemed to make a hole in the pile of work on his desk. it grew no smaller fast. why? because he never, in all his years of managing, learned to arrange the division of his work. he never learned to deputize it. when his mind should have been free for the more or less important decisions which crop out now and then even in an office manager's life, it was all bound around in the necessity of performing some silly little routine job which any girl of moderate intelligence could have done. his idea of organizing his job was to try to do everything himself. and within his physical limitations he was a valuable man to the company. but how much more he'd have been worth had he, at some time in his career, acquired the knack of organization! don't jump to the conclusion, now, that the successful organizer is one who merely divides up his work and parcels it out among a flock of assistants. don't think for a moment that it is nothing but deputization. effective organization is far more than that. it is the distribution of work, according to its character or urgency, among the facilities at hand for doing it according to their capacities or cost. and it makes no difference whether those facilities happen to be men, money, or machines--or simply your own available time. you deputize work when you use an adding machine instead of your head to total last month's sales--when you turn the job of packaging breakfast food over to an automatic machine--when you jot down in your notebook information which would otherwise tax your memory--when you telephone the purchasing agent instead of making your legs take you to his office--when, instead of using your own funds, you do something on borrowed capital. deputization may be any one of these just as easily as it may be asking your assistant to find out why so-and-so's order for boys' pants wasn't shipped on time, or making him responsible for working out a new prospect list. * * * * * the office manager of a shoe concern found, right after the war, that much of his day was spent telling dealers in kalamazoo and keokuk to be patient, please, and they'd get their shoes. those were the halcyon days, you'll remember, when salesmen went out twice a year and told their customers how many shoes or ships or sewing machines they could have--and when they could have them. as a result, this particular shoe factory was loaded to the guards with orders. orders were shipped when, as and if they struggled from cutting room to fitting room--and from then on down to the packing department. complaints were numerous. they weren't exactly complaints, either. queries, rather. where are my shoes? can't you ship march 15 instead of april 1? and so on--until, as we started to say, the sales manager was spending a great part of his time dictating replies to his stenographer. and she didn't have time for any of her other duties. analysis proved that the letters were, in the main, of three types. three letters were therefore prepared, and each day the sales manager went through the inquiries and indicated which letter should go to which customer. in that way the latter got a prompt and courteous reply, as well as certain vague information explaining why he'd have to wait another month for his shoes. and he was moderately happy. personal attention from the sales manager could have accomplished no more. thus a certain part of an executive's and his stenographer's time was deputized to a system. could the sales manager have gone a step further and had his letter mimeographed, he would have been deputizing to a machine the same amount of his own and a much larger part of the stenographer's time. but, while the customers accepted plausible excuses in place of shoes, it is doubtful whether the cleverest imitation would have taken the place of a real typewritten letter. with the manufacturer of a proprietary medicine, however, things are different. women from every part of the country write in describing their ailments. it is not difficult to classify these letters into a dozen groups. and form letters, done in skillful imitation of real typing, do the trick quite nicely. that is deputizing--just as it is deputizing when the "big boss" calls in his assistant and says: "you run this shebang from now on. i've got to see if i can't get the k. c. plant out of the red." and it's deputizing when a manufacturer, forced to increase the size of his plant, goes to a real estate operator and gets him to buy a piece of land, put up a building and rent it to him at a certain figure, while he uses his own capital to equip and operate the new plant, because he can make 15 per cent, say, on his capital himself, whereas he has to pay out as rent only an amount equal to 8 per cent of what land, building, insurance, and so on, would tie up. fundamentally, then, deputizing is taking something away from the "principal" of the job or business and assigning it to a "deputy." principal and deputy may be a manager and his stenographer, a department head and a filing system, or a corporation's capital and a bond issue. the first stumbling step toward organization, therefore, is to recognize and define the principal and the deputies in a given task. a good manager, though, can't simply go and deputize every detail of his job. that might be nothing more than the trick of a lazy man. yet a rising young executive (on our list of casual acquaintances) has done exactly that. he has carried it to such a fine point that he is able to spend three afternoons a week with col. bogie. he is still rising, although some of us have abiding faith in the old adage that what goes up must come down. in other words, he's rising to a fall. no, organizing is not deputizing in that sense of the word. in effective organizing, it will be noted from the examples cited, work is deputized _only when the "principal" is left free to do something else more important or more profitable_. the "big boss" didn't hand the plant over to his assistant until he knew his undivided attention was needed elsewhere--until he knew he could spend his time more profitably in another phase of the business. analyze the conditions under which the sales manager delegated part of his dictation to a system, and part of his stenographer's typing to a duplicating machine. you will see that the work deputized fulfilled two conditions: it was work the system and the machine could do to advantage-and work which he and his stenographer could do only at the expense of more important work. wherever there is delegation of responsibility in any true job of managing, the same two fundamentals will be seen. too often a manager says: "never do anything your subordinate can do for you." but it is not good management when turning a job over to a subordinate leaves the manager idle and unproductive--with nothing on his mind except his hat. the good manager, whatever may be his particular job of managing, follows two rules when he deputizes or distributes work to man, money or machine. such work, he knows, should be: 1. work which that other person or other thing can do to good advantage. 2. work which the manager would do himself only at the expense of something more important. deputizing your work so that your days are free for golfing or yachting is far from the spirit of true organization. when a schwab deputizes, another job profits by the increased time he is able to give to it. every time he passes on a bit more responsibility, the whole enterprise profits through his greater freedom for the big sweep of the business. and when a manager fails because he has never learned to share responsibilities, we shudder at his folly--never stopping to think that the sole reason it was folly was because there was a bigger job for him to do. deputizing his work would have left him free to exercise big, broad judgment in a way that only leisure and calmness could afford. * * * * * a few years ago, two young men went into business in a small illinois town. they were honest, industrious, well liked. austin was a born salesman; black was a shrewd buyer. it looked like a good combination and the local banker gave them a line of credit. one year went by. two years. austin and black were just skinning by. a fair living was all they were getting out of the business. volume--which was what they needed--was increasing, oh, so slowly. a salesman came along about that time and told them some things they didn't know. a little more skill in watching the stock; cutting out lines which weren't paying; trimming purchases on slow-moving stocks; pushing specialties before they went bad on their hands--those were some of the methods which meant added profits. it certainly looked like good business to hire another clerk so that the partners' time would be free for these new phases of the business. the clerk was taken on--and things began to hum. soon austin and black saw other steps they ought to take. more attention must be given to advertising. that meant another clerk. next came a bookkeeper, an assistant bookkeeper. trade was increasing, you see, and net profits were increasing. extra clerks were needed all right, but the proprietors went the whole hog and put on so many that they themselves no longer had to stand behind a counter. they were both badly bitten by the bug of supervision. finally the tide turned. it usually does. and when austin and black went to the bank one day to get an extension of credit, the shrewd old retired farmer on the other side of the desk laid down the law. they got the extension--but only on certain conditions. the chief condition was that they do less managing and more merchandising. [illustration] and that's what they are doing today. there were two managers who organized their work, increased their profits. up to a certain point, every time they deputized their work, it was an advantage, because it left them more time for better merchandising. but they weren't organizing according to our two fundamentals. literally, they were _deputizing all the work that others could do_--and not confining the work deputized to _work they themselves could do only at the expense of something more important_. how well the chart tells the story! the great big white piece of pie marked "idle" shows exactly where austin and black went wrong. the worst thing that ever happened to them was the day they went home from chicago and tried to run their business the way they thought mr. james w. simpson runs his large retail emporium. somewhere along the line they tripped over the point of vanishing returns and kept right on going. and thus we come to the scylla and charybdis of our job of organizing. remember we are not interested in the mere knack of getting someone else to take over every last responsibility that can be borne by another. perhaps that may be good management for a schwab--in so far, at least, as it leaves his mind free for the exercise of the broad judgment we mentioned a while ago. nor are we interested in the sheer industry and application involved in doing without assistance everything that can possibly be so done, although doing it may be equally good management for, say, a file clerk. rather is our interest in the knack of sensing the dividing line between work to perform and work to deputize. it is that ability which is the mark of the successful manager. * * * * * where is this dividing line? how shall we know where to deputize and when to perform? what kind of work shall we turn over to subordinates? what shall we reserve for ourselves? again, whatever the job or business we are engaged in organizing, there are simple rules to follow. but first an illustration which will help to make the point. consider the credit man for a large concern which sold machines on a monthly payment plan. he was always in a jam with the sales department. it took too long, complained the sales manager, to get credit rulings. it was no fun to put a whole lot of work into selling the customer, only to have the order turned down by the house because of poor credit. why couldn't the credit man give them a ruling before they attempted to close a sale? sometimes it took so long to get an o.k. that the prospect got all cold and went somewhere else. the treasurer of the company was drawn into the picture when the sales manager openly declared he'd "get" the credit man. and it certainly looked as if the sales manager had a good case. "but," protested the credit man, "i've made mighty few mistakes. as for delays--well, i don't know how i could work any harder." "maybe you work too hard," the treasurer ventured. "hm, if i didn't do what i do, i don't know who would." "hold on, now, let's get this thing straight. you're valuable to the company because of your long experience and good judgment on credits. when you have all the dope on a man, i'll bet my last dollar on your decision. the only mistakes you ever make are when you hurry your decisions. "but--and here's the point--you aren't any better at digging out the facts than either of your two assistants. yet here's what you do. you divide salesmen's requests for credit rulings into two groups. you take those that run over $500; your assistants get the others. each of you does his own investigating and digging--and except in puzzling cases, you practically let your two men make their own decisions. myself assistants $500 up under $500 mercantile reports bank references special investigations "briefing" data final ruling correspondence $500 up under $500 { mercantile reports assistants { bank references { special investigations { "briefing" data myself { final ruling { correspondence "why, listen. you, the best man we have on _decisions_, spend more than half your time _digging_, while your assistants spend much of their time making decisions. what's the result? delay, the department in a jam, some decisions made in a hurry, some by your assistants. "the trouble with you is, you haven't organized your department right." and the treasurer sketched the diagram reproduced in the upper chart on page 105. "why, man, your job is to keep _all_ bad credits off the books--not just the big ones. a bad risk--whether it's $5 or $5000--is a mistake. you're an expert credit man--but as a manager, you're a washout. "this," he added, "is the way you ought to set up your department. then you, the best man on decisions, will do all the deciding. your two assistants, who are just as good as you are at digging, will spend all their time getting you the facts." and as he spoke he sketched in the lower chart. the credit man had erred in the other direction from the two retail merchants. he wasn't doing _enough_ managing. he was keeping too much work for himself. and he was _deputizing the wrong kind of work_. the merchants were deputizing work they should have done themselves--the general supervision of stocks, advertising and sales did not require their undivided attention--and the volume and profits of the business wouldn't stand so much unproductive expense. our credit man, on the other hand, was doing work which others could very well do for him--the time he spent on such work should have been devoted to other and more important responsibilities. in the story of the credit man, however, another fundamental of good organization comes to light. remember how the treasurer classified the character of the work to be done? not only was the credit man trying to do too much work, but even when he _did_ assign work to his assistants, he assigned the wrong kind. he deputized, true enough--but he erred in regard to the kind of work he deputized. he thought he could deputize small credits. it didn't take the treasurer long to show him that the amount made no difference--it was the character of the work that required consideration. plenty of managers make that same mistake. they judge the importance of the task by its physical bigness--or by the amount of money involved--instead of deciding according to the character of the work. before work can be safely deputized, then, it must be more intelligently classified. and the key to better classification is found by dividing the job or business into two elements. one is enterprise. the other is routine. _enterprise_ is an arbitrary term which we shall choose to indicate those factors of work which involve the use of judgment, initiative, experiment or speculation. _routine_ we shall apply to those factors which follow settled precedents or rules or come within the range of known ability to perform. analyze your own job with these two terms in mind. the various duties you perform will fall readily into one or the other of the two classifications. the things which come under the head of routine you have a right to deputize if, when you chart both classifications--in as accurate a proportion as possible to the capacities of the "principal" and the "deputies"--you find you are not overloading the business with unproductive management. a simple rule of thumb works here about as well as anything: base the division of work on how much or how little of the routine the _principal_ can afford to carry. * * * * * you may safely deputize only so long as, by so doing, you leave yourself free for the more important, more profitable decisions. don't forget for a moment, then--if you would organize effectively--that there is a tremendous difference between enterprise and routine work. don't waste energy on the one. don't deputize the other--unless you can effectively organize a deputy's capacity for doing it, and then only if it pays. don't be like the manager who got a taste of the savings to be made through the application of mechanical handling equipment. he bought conveyors--and more conveyors. he was deputizing the handling job to machines. so far, so good. but the first thing you know he had a 50-ft. conveyor connecting two points in his shipping room. it took one man to load it, another to unload it. previously one man with a hand truck had moved the packages very nicely, and had a lot of time left over for other duties. and here he needed an extra man--and owned a costly piece of equipment to boot. under such circumstances the conveyor became very expensive scenery--not nearly so nice to look at as yellowstone park or the riviera--and the money invested in it would have bought a trip to either. thus all savings through deputization don't pay. many a machine will save time and labor, but the interest on the investment, and upkeep and the depreciation will more than eat up the saving--unless the time and labor saved can be profitably turned to something else. * * * * * no attempted exposition of the knack of organizing can be complete without something more than passing mention of a phase which may be all too easily slid over or completed. when work is deputized, the responsibility of the manager does not end with the act of deputization. it is the manager's responsibility to see that the work is done in the simplest and most effective manner. a sales executive had allowed a bunch of call reports to accumulate. there were several hundred of them. so he called in a stenographer whose time was hanging fairly heavily on her hands, and asked her to put them into alphabetical order preparatory to filing. fifteen minutes later he happened by and was startled to see that she had covered two desks with the call reports and seemed to be making haste very slowly indeed. she had made a pile for every last letter in the alphabet. and every time she picked up a report, she had to hunt for the proper pile to put it in. so he showed her how to sort first in five major piles--a, b, c, d in one pile and so on. and then to sort each pile again into five piles, one for each letter--and finally to sort each individual pile alphabetically. it sounded like more handling. and perhaps it was. but the job of classification was greatly simplified. there was no more hunting for the missing pile. the work proceeded quickly and accurately. a rough illustration. he might have gone a step further and deputized part of the girl's task to a machine instead of to the primitive system described. that is to say, he might have seen that she was provided with one of the preliminary filing baskets which file clerks often use. then the task of sorting alphabetically could have been done in a single handling of each report. but whatever the method he made available for the girl's use, the illustration still serves to indicate that the manager's responsibility does not end when he turns a job over to a subordinate. it remains his care to see that the job is done by the most effective method--not necessarily the speediest, but the one which gets the best results for the effort involved. to find this "one best" method, industry has evolved a complete technique of time and motion study. and merely to hint at what may be accomplished by breaking down an operation into its elementary operations and observing the time required to perform them, becomes part of our task in setting down the ways and means of organizing. first we shall find that any job, simple or complex, may be divided into three parts: make ready, do and put away. shaving, for example. first we get everything ready--razor, brush, shaving cream, hot water. then comes the actual operation of shaving. and last, cleaning up--rinsing the brush, wiping the razor, and putting things back where they belong. perhaps you're in the same boat as the old farmer who, approached by the subscription salesman of an agricultural magazine, allowed he wa'nt farmin' now half as good as he knew how. or perhaps you already hold speed records at giving your face the once-over. but, you see, the whole point in studying the job is not aimed at faster shaving, but at simplifying the "make ready" and "put away" phases of the operation. for example, the next time you shave, try picking up the tube of shaving cream with one hand and unscrewing the cap while you're wetting your brush with the other. it will be awkward as the dickens the first time you try it. but try it again and again and again. it won't be long before you'll be an expert at doing the job that way. finish up that part of the operation by screwing the cap back on while you are lathering your face with the right hand. does it require a stop watch to point out the saving in time that you've made? oh, it won't be easy the first few times, but before you know it, you'll have taught yourself good work habits. take a simple job like the assembly of a license bracket in an automobile factory. an analysis of this operation (see "micromotion technique," by f. j. van poppelen, _factory and industrial management_, nov., 1930) showed that the right hand was busy all the time, while the left did nothing most of the time except hold the piece. at the risk of getting too technical--for after all we are interested, not so much in the details, as in certain broad principles of organizing the work--let us see how the operation was performed. first the operator assembled a number of screws and leather washers by picking up a screw with the left hand, a washer with the right, putting them together and laying the assembly aside. then he picked up a bracket with the left hand and a screw and washer assembly with the right, placing the screw through a slot in the bracket--continuing to hold assembled pieces in his left hand while the right was picking up a flat washer and assembling it to the screw; picking up lock washer, assembling it to the screw; picking up acorn nut and starting it on the screw; and finally picking up an open-end wrench and tightening the nut. then he assembled screw, washers and nut to the other side of the bracket, whereupon wrench and bracket were laid aside, completing the cycle. an analysis of these motions, by right and left hands, is given in the table on page 120. it illustrates the important point that the right hand was busy all the time, but for a considerable part of the time the left was doing nothing but holding the piece. on pages 118 and 119 are shown drawings of the old and the new assembly methods. likewise, the lower table on page 120 analyzes, by right and left hands, the motions required by the new method. note first that fewer elements--17 as against 26--are required. and note that both hands are productively employed with shorter distances to travel for stock and with decreased effort. [illustration: analysis of this assembly job shows ... ... that the right hand was busy all the time....] [illustration: comparison with the old method ... shows both hands productively employed....] table 1 left hand right hand 1. pick up screw pick up leather washer 2. assemble assemble 3. idle lay aside 4. pick up bracket pick up screw and washer assembled 5. hold bracket assemble 6. " " pick up flat washer 7. " " assemble 8. " " pick up lock washer 9. " " assemble 10. " " pick up nut 11. " " start on thread 12. " " pick up wrench 13. " " tighten nut 14. " " lay wrench aside 15. " " pick up screw and washer assembled 16. " " assemble to other side of bracket 17. " " pick up flat washer 18. " " assemble 19. " " pick up lock washer 20. " " assemble 21. " " pick up nut 22. " " start on thread 23. " " pick up wrench 24. " " tighten nut 25. " " lay wrench aside 26. idle lay bracket aside table 2 left hand right hand 1. pick up screw and transport same 2. position on block same 3. pick up leather washer and transport same 4. position on screw same 5. pick up new bracket and transport pick up assembled bracket; lay aside 6. position bracket on block same 7. pick up flat washer and transport same 8. position on screw same 9. pick up lock washer and transport same 10. position on screw same 11. pick up nut and transport same 12. start nut on screw same 13. position driver same 14. tighten nut same 15. position driver to 2nd nut same 16. tighten nut same 17. release driver and move assembled bracket 2 in. forward on block same the new set-up consists of a hardwood block, shaped to fit one side of the bracket when assembled, and nailed to the bench. the open-end wrench was replaced by a screw-driver with a socket wrench to fit the acorn nut, suspended on a spring in front of the operator. the miscellaneous containers for holding the small parts were replaced by a supply of sheet-metal duplicate trays, so that the various parts could be located in the most convenient position. (this arrangement was not used in the accompanying illustrations because it obscured the view.) in a word, then, the number of elements was decreased by one-third--and practically all of the elements in the new method require less time than the similar or corresponding element in the old method. the distance of travel for stock has been shortened, parts are grasped more easily, better and faster tools are provided, effort is decreased, and both hands are productively employed. need the imagination be stretched to the breaking point to see how a job involving the work not of one man, but of several, may be similarly organized and similarly improved? a second illustration will serve to show the application to group work (see "motion study applied to group work," by j. a. piacitelli, _factory and industrial management_, april, 1931, page 626). the operation studied here involved cycles of approximately eleven seconds' duration, performed by a group of seven men. the material handled consisted of rolls of roofing weighing about 50 lbs. each. many of the elements in the cycle were obviously fatiguing. the rolls had to be lifted, during transfers from one worker to another, and rolled along a horizontal runway. the trucker lifted the completed roll and placed it on his truck. while the rate of production was limited by process and speed of equipment, the chance to cut cost and fatigue prompted the study. examine the equipment layout before the study was made (it is shown on page 124), and follow the operation. a roll of roofing paper approximately 8 in. in diameter and 36 in. long was wound about the mandrel of a winding machine by one of the workers. the roll was taken off and passed to another worker who wrapped a sheet of paper about it and pasted it in place. when the roll was wrapped, he had to lift the roll, turn and deposit it on the runway. the next man inserted a bag of nails, a can of cement and an instruction sheet into the core of the roll. to do this, he was forced to turn and bend almost to floor level to get his supplies. next the roll was passed along to two men who, from opposite sides of the runway, placed protectors and muslin caps on the ends of the roll. it was then rolled along to another man who placed gummed paper bands about the ends and pushed the roll to the end of the runway where the trucker placed it on a truck and wheeled it into storage. [illustration: equipment layout before study] [illustration: equipment layout after study] the movie camera, which is gradually finding wider industrial use in the search for the "one best" method, was used to record the work of this group. it supplied not only a photographic record of the working place and surrounding conditions, but also a simultaneous record of time and method employed by each worker regardless of speed. it was then possible to study overlapping cycles and to analyze the methods to the desired degree of accuracy--and thus to transfer parts of the cycle of one operator to that of another, thus effecting a better distribution of work and shortening the cycle of the person on whom the production of the group depends--thereby increasing the productivity of the entire group. these analyses showed immediately an unequal distribution of work. again, from the equipment layout made after the study, let us follow through and see what changes were effected. first the wrapper was freed from turning and lifting the roll from his table by the introduction of an elevator which lifted the roll to an inclined runway. the roll then moved from place to place by gravity when released by foot-operated trips. the pasting problem was solved by using a trough the length of the paper, open on the bottom and equipped with squeegee lips like the mucilage bottle on your desk. a pile of wrapping paper with the far edges of the sheets inserted under the trough supplied a pasted sheet every time one was drawn toward the operator. the trough was covered with a hinged plate which permitted the roll to pass over it to the elevator. it was found, by eliminating the fatiguing elements in this man's work and simplifying his cycle of motions, that the time would be so reduced that he could easily take over the work of the man who placed the cement and nails in the core of the roll. the instruction sheet was placed in the roll by the winder, who had ample time for this additional task. the pile of sheets was placed at his right under a date stamp so that he could date each sheet and slip it into the roll just before it stopped. simplifying the cycle of the men who placed the caps on the ends of the roll enabled them to take over with ease the work of the man who had placed the gummed-paper bands around the ends. thus each man capped and banded his own end, whereas formerly the bander had had to assume an awkward and fatiguing position to reach the far end. and last, by placing a redesigned truck at the end of the incline, the completed rolls landed in the truck, and the trucker was able to care for two machines. the method finally established was recorded on instruction sheets, and the existing premium was modified to provide additional incentive. although, as stated at the outset, the rate of production was limited by the machine, substantial savings resulted from the study. production has been maintained with 4-1/2 men instead of 7; fatigue has been greatly lessened; cost has been reduced about 26 per cent; average earnings of the group have increased about 19 per cent. thus the search for the "one best" method becomes an important factor in organizing the work. we might go on and show how this group work was organized in accordance with our two fundamentals, but the purpose of introducing this illustration and the one preceding it was, after all, to show that the _principal's_ responsibility, after deputizing work, ends only when he has shown the _deputy_ the most effective method of doing it. besides, we must hasten on to the task of handling the "help." we have seen that the entire fabric of managing rests upon the knack of organizing; that organizing the work must be preceded by planning; and that planning must be based upon analysis. and now, having organized, we must learn how to handle the "help"--which is a task met in every job involving managing. and what job, big or small, does not involve managing? iv handling the "help" there used to be a good old golden rule of thumb that was plenty good enough for the good old rule-of-thumb days. it was: _if you would be fair, treat all your men alike_. as a matter of fact it wasn't a bad rule in those halcyon days for man wanted then but little here below. and he got it. those were the days when a certain plant of a certain electrical concern was known affectionately among the employees as "siberia." with good reason, too, for it was the dreariest, bleakest place in winter you can imagine. and a transfer to it was like nothing so much as a sentence to siberia. well, well, their plant today is as comfortable a place to work in as you'll find anywhere in the country; that concern today sets a high standard of employer-employee relationships; those same workers who, thirty years ago, shivered at the bare thought of pulling on their pants and trekking over the barren wastes to "siberia," are today comfortably retired on modest pensions which don't do a thing but help keep the wolf from the door. yet the management, in those days beyond recall, would have shown you that _all men were treated alike_. perhaps that was the trouble. anyway, if you asked the management today how to handle "help," dollars to doughnuts the answer would come closer to being: to be fair, treat every man differently. a suggestive statement--significant because it is indicative of tremendous change in the relationships of capital and labor, of employer and employee. fifteen years ago a lad graduated from an eastern university. his folks were poor but proud--as mr. alger used to say--but managed to see phil through. phil had made a good record in school--and some good friends. through one of them he got a letter to mr. h--, the head of an old established firm of stockbrokers--and the letter got him a job. the job paid $5 a week. even in those days there wasn't much left over after carfare and lunches had been deducted. but phil was "learning the bond business." he wouldn't be worth even $5 a week the first six months. after that, maybe. he stuck. graduated from "running the street" to a stool in the stock clerk's cage. came the new year and phil found an extra dollar in his pay envelope. he asked the cashier if there wasn't some mistake. there wasn't. two days later he got a job in a factory near his home at $12 a week. told mr. h-he was leaving. was offered $15 to stay. wouldn't. mr. h-confessed later that he had let the most promising prospect in years slip through his fingers. all--if you ask us--because it was a fixed policy of the house to treat all alike. for years it had been doing just exactly that. each june it took on a new crop of young men to "learn the business." each young man got $5 a week. no favorites. but nine out of every ten came from prosperous, even wealthy families. that $5 bill was nothing in their young lives. their families were glad to have them work for nothing, for they were getting an insight into the investment business--and some day, whether they became bond salesmen or just plain manufacturers and solid bankers, that knowledge would be worth its weight in gold. phil was the tenth man. mr. h-knew well enough that he couldn't get by on $5 a week. _but there was the rule._ it couldn't be broken. no, we can't wind up by telling how phil did well in the pants factory, married the boss's daughter and owns the business today. that would be wandering far from the truth. he couldn't "see" the boss' daughter for one thing--and besides the pants factory wasn't such a much. no, you'll find phil today doing a bang-up job in an ohio plant. it says "general manager" on his door. and as far as he is concerned, it was the best thing that ever happened when mr. h-treated him like all the rest. mr. h--, though, is still taking them on, still paying them $5 a week--or maybe it's $10--still treating them all alike. he gets a lot of bright young fellows into the business. but every so often he passes up a chance to get an exceptionally promising boy--because he is fair and treats them all alike. what's a rule for, anyway, except to break? mr. h-will never know that it's the _exception_ that proves the rule--particularly when you are dealing with human values. * * * * * but more later of the newer viewpoint. for the moment we are talking about handling the "help"--and making it sound as though it were solely the problem of the big employer. not so. it is a problem with every one of you in business--unless you do nothing but sit in one spot and do one job from nine to five, five days--we hope--a week. the editor who wants a manuscript typed; the salesman who must get long distance; the man at the machine who has to get tools from the toolroom; the errand boy with his bundle to carry--all have the same problem. to all of them it is just as important in relation to their own scale of things as it is to the manager of a business with ten or a hundred or a thousand employees. it is the eternal problem of getting others to cooperate. some men are good at it; others are total failures. many a man on the bench or at the machine has the ability, knowledge and experience which qualify him for a job as foreman or even superintendent. but he can't hold down a foreman's job because he hasn't the knack of getting hearty, whole-souled cooperation from others. foremen, too, have changed, you see. today the successful foreman is less often the hard-boiled driver, more often the student of his job, of his men, of himself. he has learned that, _to be fair, he must treat every man differently_. often we hear of bill's losing his job as a mechanic, not because he didn't know his job, not because he couldn't run every lathe in the shop, but because he "couldn't get along" with the other men. and we think, poor bill! it's too bad he's so quick-tempered. generally we blame it on "temperament." yet some of the very best handlers of men are the crabbiest, crankiest gents in seven states. others are as cold as steel. and like as not the warm-hearted, generous man is a monumental failure at handling his "help." no, when you check specific methods of handling people--methods which are successful for the most part--something much more fundamental than temperament will be found. * * * * * mrs. thompson was in charge of the information desk and switchboard in a medium-sized new england factory. a well-bred englishwoman in her late thirties, the boss liked her for her pleasant voice over the phone, for her unfailingly courteous treatment of visitors. but if the boss liked her, almost no one else did. salesmen particularly complained of her crankiness and of the unsatisfactory service they got. young bacon was an exception, though. he always got what he wanted. one day the office manager asked him how on earth he did it. bacon thought he was being taken for a ride, but finally answered: "why, that's a cinch. i take mrs. thompson's job seriously." pressed for details, he supplied them. "i never try to kid her. i never bawl her out. when i want a number i treat her as though the switchboard were her own particular business and i a customer. just as if she had something to sell, and i something to buy. when i ask for some special service, she gives it to me. or she tells me why she can't." afterwards the office manager took the trouble to look into the situation. the switchboard job was a life saver to that woman of 38. she needed the money in the first place. and besides the job gave her a sense of responsibility. she was proud of her job, proud to know that the men in the business depended upon her for certain important services. she couldn't understand, then, when a salesman picked up his telephone and barked a command at her as though she were a piece of office furniture, or patronized her as if she were a child, or kidded her as if she were a 20-year-old flapper. it made her cranky to be treated like that. and when someone like bacon came along with his method of treating her work as a responsible piece of business, it put her on her mettle. the solution was obvious. the office manager talked mrs. thompson and mrs. thompson's job over with the salesmen. it wasn't long before they changed their tactics, with resultant improvement in the quality of the telephone service they got. sounds like a case of knowing the foibles of the person involved, doesn't it? it's more than that. edna is a switchboard operator, too. she is pretty and agreeable. and you couldn't blame the boys for liking to hang around. no one thought much about that until some of the more serious-minded men discovered they couldn't get a thing out of edna. she was too busy listening to joe's latest exploit with one hand, and plugging jack in with the other. she played favorites in putting through long distance calls, took advantage of the friendly feeling everyone had toward her. the telephone service in that office just folded up and died. there wasn't any. the obvious remedy was to fire edna. but the manager was a cagey old codger. beneath a rough exterior beat a heart of gold, and somehow he felt that maybe it wasn't all edna's fault. why, blast it, she'd been treated like a pretty, petulant girl. why shouldn't she act like one? a memo was the result. it announced the creation of a new department. "telephone service" was its name--and edna blank was its head. it was just as much a part of the business as the accounting department, or any other. he had sense enough to put definite responsibilities upon edna's shoulders. he did it not only to instill in her a sense of duty, but also to impress her with his confidence in her ability to perform those duties. then, under the rose, he instructed the men to treat her just as they treated the capable woman in charge of the accounting end of the business. they did. and edna rose to the occasion, took pride in her work, discouraged the hangers-on, played no favorites in putting through calls, and became as good an operator as ever you'd hope to see. now, then, scratch the surface and what do you find? not that it was simply a case of understanding mrs. thompson's and edna's foibles. not at all. mrs. thompson stopped being cranky and became accommodating, edna dropped her irresponsible ways and became an alert, attentive operator when they got the feeling out of their work that they were transacting business for themselves. and need we look for further proof of our postulate that to be fair, you must treat all your assistants differently? you must know them, know yourself, if you would get whole-hearted cooperation. that is fundamental in any attempt to acquire the knack of handling the "help." * * * * * for there _is_ a knack of handling the help. it _can_ be acquired. this we say despite the difficulty of analyzing the relations of one person to another, despite the seeming impossibility of setting down a rule which will work universally. take a man running a peanut stand, a hosiery mill, or a steel plant. there are three things he wants for himself: (1) to build up and hold a good trade; (2) to please his customers; (3) to get a fair profit. remember these three wants when you're dealing with your help. get your "help"--it may be the switchboard operator or it may be a thousand automobile workmen--in the position of wanting those same three things. the help's job is his "trade," you are his customer; and his compensation is his profit. when you do that, you have an employee or helper who is going to give you the hearty cooperation you're looking for--just so long as you are a good customer, and his compensation for helping you is a fair profit. next time you go into a store, try to keep that thought fixed in your mind. everyone working in a business, you see, is selling his services--and when you use those services you are the buyer. perhaps you pay in money for the services rendered--perhaps you simply repay him by making his day's work easier. in either event, treat your requests for service as though you and he were transacting a business that is mutually, but individually, profitable, and the cooperation which is otherwise usually begrudged will be automatically forthcoming. but that, you say, is personality. then how do you account for this? a. is a big, breezy salesman. he busts into a hotel, calls the "greeter" behind the desk by name, asks for 1209 "same as last time"--and gets all kinds of real service from porters, bell-hops and waiters. it looks as though it might be personality. yet right behind him walks b. he's a horse-faced bird who never smiles--wiry, monosyllabic--asks brusquely for a $4 room--gets it. and gets everything else he asks for--just as promptly as a. does. no, it can't be personality. for there's c. and there's d. c. is a's twin--and b. and d. were cast in the same mold. their tips are no smaller; their demands no more unreasonable. yet c. gets the poorest sample room in the house. and d's trunk is always the last one the porter brings up. these aren't exaggerated cases. hotel men will tell you they happen every day. why, then, did a. and b. rate such good service while their fellow knights of the road got none? because when a. and b. asked for something, there was about the transaction a well-defined air of "you've something you can do for me--i've something i want done--what say we trade?" whereas, when c. and d. came along, regardless of the personal manners involved, there was created the atmosphere of a one-sided business deal. c's breeziness had in it a touch of condescension, or d's brusqueness was the brusqueness of assumed superiority. thus is it seen, when we forget all about personality and study effects, that cooperation is gained by trading with the "help" according to the "help's" business. trade with an elevator man as though running an elevator were his own business--trade with the chief chemist as though the laboratory were his store--and they'll trade with you and be eager to make a satisfactory deal of it. under this fixed policy--or rule--the proper attitude to take towards this or that class of "help" becomes a matter of automatic selection. and that is how we begin to acquire the knack of handling the help. thus do we step high, wide and handsome on our road to the knack of managing. * * * * * now enters the business of compensation. there must be compensation in a trade if all hands are to be satisfied. everyone is in business because he wants something. everything that will help him to get what he wants, he will like to do; everything that hinders him, he will dislike to do. when you get ready to "trade" with someone, therefore, consider what the other man wants--that is, if you want to get the most help or cooperation out of the transaction. then consider what you can give in return--balancing his wants. +----------------------------------------------------------+ | +-------------+ +--------------+ | | |what you want| | what your | | | +-------------+ | "help" wants | | | \ /+--------------+ | | +---------------------+ | | |what you can give and| | | |he can take that will| | | | leave both parties | | | | satisfied | | | +---------------------+ | +----------------------------------------------------------+ there must be that balance in every satisfactory deal. examine the chart on this page. it will save a lot of paper and ink because it shows diagrammatically what must happen if there are to be satisfactory arrangements between you and your "help". a word or two by way of interpretation may serve to show how it works out. when the "help" is in your employ, the compensation--what you can give and he can take, leaving both parties satisfied--is his monthly pay check or his weekly envelope. or it is the rate of commission. and bearing upon it are such things as local living conditions, and so on. when the "help" is someone not in your direct employ, then the compensation is regulated by the effect which performing the service you require, has on the success of the "help's" regular day's work. for the moment, let's us return to the messenger boy whom we left in chapter iii just as he was about to deliver a message. or, at least, let's talk about another messenger boy whose task of managing his job differs in no wise from the first's--or, for that matter, from any other job of management. this boy worked in a large chicago building and his job was carting light but bulky packages back and forth between his company's quarters and its customers'. there were a dozen other boys, and most of them complained of having trouble getting up and down in the elevators. it seemed that the starter took delight in making the boys wait for the freight elevator--even when there was plenty of room in the others. but this particular boy--an impudent youngster with a "fresh" way about him--had no trouble at all. so the office manager was anxious to know "how come." he posted himself where he could observe without being seen. and sure enough, in came the fresh messenger boy with a bundle almost as big as himself. down he set it, favored the starter with an impudent military salute and leaned nonchalantly up against the wall--well out of the way. "hello, feller," said he breezily; "lemme know when there's room. and don't keep me waiting too long, or i'll be out on my ear." picture the manager's astonishment when the starter replied: "git in here, then, and git in quick," and let him in the first car going up. somewhere, somehow, that impudent youngster had struck a responsive chord. instinctively--or else because of past experience with elevator starters--he had put the problem of that particular starter's service on a business basis. he had put it in the starter's power to perform his own work without trouble, and to feel at the same time that he was "a man of affairs." he was able to show his authority without taking it out on the boy. analyze this "trade" with the "compensation" chart in mind. do you not see the "balance" of interests? do you not see the starter's feeling that the service he rendered was his own business, that the boy was one of his customers, that the avoidance of trouble was his compensation or profit? is there not in this very unimportant transaction the balance of interests suggested by our little chart? at this stage of our approach to the knack of management, a ready objection comes to mind. we are now dealing in human values and relationships--and you can't chart them. analysis, planning, organization--certain rules may be set down which will enable one to attain some degree of effectiveness in carrying them out. but human nature? you can't deal with it by rule. the objection is well founded. you can't chart human nature--but you _can_ study the approaches to it and chart the laws that appeal to it. our chart on page 146 is based upon what successful managers have learned about finding the wants of the human element when it works, and is constructed to supply a method of supplying those wants with as much productiveness and as little friction as possible. when you buy a new car and "put it to work," your first care is to find out its wants--how much you must give to get what it has to "sell"--what parts need oil and grease and so on. so, if you want to get work out of a human being, your best bet is to find out what that human being needs and must get in return for the work he performs or the service he gives. some men seem to be born with an instinct for finding this out. but if you aren't built that way, there is no reason why you can't drill yourself to the same end by deliberately studying each case. * * * * * see, for example, how a study of this sort gets the most out of men in a large new england plant where modern management methods are making serious inroads into the old rule-of-thumb ways of doing things. this concern was confronted with the very serious problem of maintaining a steady flow of product from one manufacturing department to another. because of the nature of the product, skids and power trucks had been chosen as the equipment best suited for the job. skids and lift trucks are effective handling units. no argument about that. their introduction into any factory which has been using more primitive handling methods should automatically cut costs. but they save precious little time and money when they aren't working, or when they are being worked uneconomically. the problem, then, as this concern saw it, was how to be sure that big ed hadn't shipped off for a quiet smoke far from the maddening crowd--or that little joe wasn't arranging his work so that there'd be a handful of skids left over at closing time--moves that called for overtime pay. in other words, to get 100 per cent efficiency out of very efficient handling equipment, the management realized that it must take out some sort of insurance which would guarantee little joe's and big ed's and all the other truckers' being engaged in gainful occupation eight hours--count 'em--each and every day. the best insurance seemed to be a central dispatching system. no need to go into the details of its operation. suffice it to say that it went a long way toward directing the efforts of the truckers along gainful lines. there came to be an orderliness which had never existed before. when a foreman put in a call for a trucker, he knew that the move would be made without unnecessary delay. in fact, orders were placed into the truckers' hands within three minutes of the time the foreman picked up his telephone to call the central dispatching department. but--no attempt had been made to sell this system to the truckers. it met with some little resistance, just as anything new does. and there are ways, as who does not know, of beating any "game" designed to get more work out of human beings. so the management--after many a huddle over this particular situation--decided upon a bonus plan. and they set about selling it to the truckers--somewhat in the fashion about to be narrated. "see here, men," said the manager in effect, "i'm going to put this plan right up to you and let you decide for yourselves. we've looked into it carefully. you men average 30 moves a day. so we've chosen 40 moves as the starting point. we're sure you can make 40 moves a day without tearing your shirts--and from there on, you begin to collect. for the next five trips you get a bonus of a nickel over and above your day rate; for the next five trips your bonus is 6 cents; and so on. "so, if a man makes 50 trips, his day's pay is not $4.50, but $5.05 because he has earned 55 cents in bonus. do you get it?" "yeah, we get it all right, all right. we do twice as much work for 50 or 60 cents more a day. how come? why don't we get paid extra for _all_ the moves we make over 30?" "because we're just like you. the company wants to make more money. we've shown you how it can be done and we'll split pretty much 50-50. but we won't give you all the extra profit any more than we'd think of keeping it ourselves. now think it over tonight and if you want to make $5 or $5.50 a day instead of $4.50, come 'round in the morning and we'll talk some more about it." came only the dawn. the truckers were pretty sure that they were being had, although they couldn't figure out just how. 'tis ever thus when the old order yields place to new. there was nothing left to do but try a new tack. so the manager talked to his fifteen or eighteen truckers again. and this time he proposed taking two of them and putting them on the new plan. after a little conversation to assure themselves that there was no skullduggery afoot, the truckers consented. and little ed and big joe (sic!) were nominated. little ed made 62 moves the very first day and was as fresh as a daisy when the 5 o'clock whistle blew. big joe made 56 trips and looked none the worse for it. ed's bonus was $1.98; joe's was $1.28. if you check up, we're sure you'll find those figures are wrong. but cheer up, we aren't nearly so much interested in the exact amounts of ed's and joe's earning as we are in the ultimate results and in the principles involved. we may pass quickly over the former. of course the men were convinced. and big ed would have beaten any trucker to a gentle pulp who wouldn't have been convinced. in a week's time, those truckers were making nearly twice as many trips a day--and their earnings had increased by something like 35 per cent. if you don't believe it, look at the figure on page 158. see what happened to production? yes, that pretty dotted line--the one with the big dip in it--marks labor costs per trip. the manager, you see--and now we come to the principle involved--had made his help see that the bonus plan amounted to giving them what they wanted. and of course, that was more pay. at the same time it got the company what it wanted--more production. [illustration: chart of records of dispatching electric trucks 1922-1929] fundamentally, the manager's system was precisely like the messenger boy's. and you can prove that in a trice by charting it on the same old basis. try it. it won't take you more than a couple of minutes. * * * * * this might go on for a long, long time. innumerable examples might be introduced into this text to illustrate this balancing of wants and its importance to the successful conduct of this business of managing--to illustrate that your own personal method of seeking cooperation or service is more a matter of reason than innate ability to "size up the other fellow." there is, in a word, method back of this "knack of handling the help." the method is this. ask yourself each time this simple question: what does your "helper" want? does your stenographer want to leave promptly at five so she can get ready for an evening of whoopee? or does she have to catch a particular train in order not to find a cold supper waiting for her at home? then why not fix things so she can work during the hours she is paid to work--and so she can leave at the hour when pay stops? can your truckers live in the style to which they are accustomed on $4.50 a day? or will $5.50 enable them to put away a bit for a rainy season? then why not arrange a wage payment method which will help them to do it? and above all, tell them why. to do such things is not philanthropy. successful managers will tell you it is nothing more nor less than good business. strip from their methods the individual characteristics required by the individual conditions involved. what do you find? every last one of them is based on our primary rule. that, you remember, is to find out what you want from your "help" and what your "help" wants from you; then a way to make the two meet on a ground of mutual satisfaction--the compensation you can give and the compensation they can take--and both of you get what you want. don't you see, to grasp the real knack of handling "help," the necessity for making what you want from them balance with what they want from you? if there isn't that balance, there won't be whole-souled cooperation. to paraphrase what henry ford once said--or what one of his collaborators made him say: "see that each man in doing the best he can for you is also doing the best he can for himself." thus, by digging in and finding out what everybody involved in the situation wants, it is possible to get the utmost in cooperation and loyalty. where one man does so instinctively, another gets equally good results by making a deliberate study along the lines we have pointed out. hundreds of jobs don't get done promptly and enthusiastically for no other reason than that they aren't interesting. they can be made interesting if you get the right line on what your work requires, what your "help" wants, and then make a common meeting ground. mark twain knew all about the knack of making work interesting and attractive. remember his description of tom sawyer's whitewashing the fence? even if you do, it won't hurt to read it again. poor tom. it was on a summer's morn just made for swimming or fishing--and he had to work. along comes ben, one of his cronies. tom begins to do some tall thinking. but let's not try to improve the original: "he took up his brush and went tranquilly to work.... "ben said: 'hello, old chap, you got to work, hey?' "tom wheeled suddenly and said: 'why, it's you, ben! i warn't noticing.' "'say--i'm going in a-swimming, i am. don't you wish you could? but of course you'd ruther _work_--wouldn't you? course you would!' "tom contemplated the boy a bit, and said: 'what do you call work?' "'why, ain't that work?' "tom resumed his whitewashing, and answered carelessly: 'well, maybe it is, and maybe it ain't. all i know is, it suits tom sawyer.' "'oh come, now, you don't mean to let on you like it?' "the brush continued to move. "'like it? well, i don't see why i oughtn't to like it. does a boy get a chance to whitewash a fence every day?' "that put the thing in a new light. ben stopped nibbling his apple. tom swept his brush daintily back and forth--stepped back to note the effect--added a touch here and there--criticized the effect again--ben watching every move and getting more and more interested, more and more absorbed. "presently he said: 'say, tom, let _me_ whitewash a little.' "tom considered, was about to consent; but he altered his mind. 'no, no--i reckon it wouldn't hardly do, ben. you see, aunt polly's awful particular about this fence--right here on the street--you know--but if it was the back fence i wouldn't mind and she wouldn't. yes, she's awful particular about this fence; it's got to be done very careful; i reckon there ain't one boy in a thousand, mebbe two thousand, that can do it the way it's got to be done.' "'no--is that so? oh, come now--lemme just try. only just a little--i'd let you, if you was me, tom.' "'ben, i'd like to, honest injun; but aunt polly--well, jim wanted to do it, but she wouldn't let him; sid wanted to do it, and she wouldn't let sid. now don't you see how i'm fixed? if you was to tackle this fence and anything was to happen to it----' "'oh, shucks, i'll be just as careful. now lemme try. say--i'll give you the core of my apple.' "'well, here--no, ben, now don't. i'm afeard----' "'i'll give you all of it!' "tom gave up the brush with reluctance in his face, but alacrity in his heart. and while the late steamer big missouri worked and sweated in the sun, the retired artist sat on a barrel in the shade close by, dangled his legs, munched his apple, and planned the slaughter of more innocents. there was no lack of material; boys happened along every little while; they came to jeer, but remained to whitewash. by the time ben was fagged out, tom had traded the next chance to billy fisher for a kite, in good repair; and when he played out, johnny miller bought in for a dead rat and a string to swing it with--and so on, and so on, hour after hour. and when the middle of the afternoon came, from being a poor poverty-stricken boy in the morning, tom was literally rolling in wealth. he had, besides the things before mentioned, twelve marbles, part of a jew's-harp, a piece of blue bottle glass to look through, a spool cannon, a key that wouldn't unlock anything, a fragment of chalk, a glass stopper of a decanter, a tin soldier, a couple of tadpoles, six firecrackers, a kitten with only one eye, a brass doorknob, a dog collar--but no dog--the handle of a knife, four pieces of orange peel and a dilapidated old window sash. "he had a nice, good, idle time all the while--plenty of company--and the fence had three coats of whitewash on it! if he hadn't run out of whitewash, he would have bankrupted every boy in the village." mark twain didn't have the worker on the modern assembly line in mind--nor the stenographer tapping her typewriter--but he _did_ see that the work men can do best is the work that is made attractive to them--either through the money in it or the sheer success in doing it. find out what's wanted to make your work attractive, then find out what you can give that will meet those wants. then you get not only good work, but loyalty in it and enthusiasm for it. but you can't fool your "help"--at least not for long. if you play upon the desire for responsibility, you must give it up to capacity. if it is promotion you hold out as a reward, you must give it when it is deserved. if you play upon the desire for good pay, you must give it as far as the job will allow. and the nearer you come to giving all you can afford for the service received, in as nearly as possible the form that is wanted, whether in courtesy or in coin, in reasonable hours or in rapid advancement, in self-respect or in reciprocal service, the more cooperation you may expect. v safeguarding the business now for the last lap. our journey has run four-fifths of its course. we have passed through the successive stages of analysis, planning, organization and handling the "help." they have all been child's play compared with the most important part of the manager's work--the task of guarding the welfare of a business or a job. all other managerial cares fade into insignificance before the necessity of conserving the general good of the business. a business rises. a business falls. its life must be protected. and, as has been said so often, "the bigger they are, the harder they fall." a certain concern in new york state had been enjoying prosperity for lo! these many years. established 'way back in the "roaring forties," it had passed through three generations of the same family. each morning at nine the president was at his desk opening the mail into three piles--taking great care that no checks fell into the waste basket--as might easily have happened had the task been delegated to the office manager or to his assistant. it was unfortunate, of course, that no orders reached the stockroom until ten o'clock. but a president must earn his salt. besides, is there a better way to keep one's finger on the pulse of the business than to know what's in the mail? let's take a look at those three piles, though. here is the daily "take"--a fat pile of checks--with the big one from san francisco laid carefully aside so that it can be admired a couple of extra times before being placed on the top of the heap. reverently the president carries the receipts to his head bookkeeper. with slow and majestic tread, almost. and over here are the orders. it's a fat pile, too. the president casts one last lingering glance at the 1/2 doz. of something or other ordered by a famous name--and, secure in the knowledge that fifth avenue shoppers are still clamoring for his product, hands the sheaf to his office manager who has been pretty fidgety for the past hour and a half because he knows the stock department is going to have a heck of a time making the afternoon express. ho, hum! it's a busy life, this being the president of a successful concern doing over a million a year. why, when grandfather started in, he didn't have a---but that's another story, and there's that third pile. a slim little pile scarcely demanding a president's attention--or a sales manager's. a few complaints. a retailer out in butte. that san antonio jobber winchester had such a hard time landing. what's this? didn't get the buttons he ordered? stuff and nonsense--well, henry will write nice, consoling letters and those will be those. now henry is a good kid. just out of school. learning the business. writes a bang-up letter. but the san antonio jobber doesn't want nice, consoling letters. he wants to know how come his pants came without the special buttons he ordered. and those special buttons are so important in his life that he has written to the head of the firm--whom he'd met at the atlantic city convention--and he expects the head of the firm to tell him what he wants to know. "come, come," the president would have said to him, had he walked into the inner sanctum, "you know i can't give my time to such petty details--i've got department heads who attend to such matters. when you want an extra thirty days--or want to talk over handling our goods exclusively in the southwest--why, those are the things for you and me to spend our time on." but the san antonio jobber, had he been there, and had he been asked, would have rejoined: "i, too, have my department heads. i, too, leave many of the trivial details to them. but if a customer came to me with a complaint, i wouldn't care a rap what it was about. it wouldn't be that particular complaint which would interest me. it would be the mere fact that he had a complaint at all. a dissatisfied customer is a dissatisfied customer, and there isn't anything in my business that would get quicker and more personal attention from me." well, well, businesses come and businesses go. our imaginary conversation will never take place between the president and the san antonio jobber. the san antonio jobber took his business elsewhere some five years ago. the president still comes in at nine and opens the mail. he never drops a check in the wastebasket. there are still three piles in front of him. three slim piles. even the pile of complaints is slim. there isn't enough business left to produce many complaints. henry? oh, he got to writing letters to an heiress who was wintering on the riviera. and when her daddy died, he wrote such a nice, consoling letter---but we wander far afield. we're out in the rough somewhere, and it's going to take a real recovery to get us back on the fairway if we don't watch out. for one thing and for instance: _is_ the customer always right? a one-time shoe salesman reports the following incident in a chicago department store. he was talking with the head buyer in the middle of the sales floor when up marched a thoroughly angry woman with the shoe adjuster tagging on behind. "these shoes," she pointed to a pair of satin pumps in the adjuster's hands, "are too small." "and she wants a new pair after having worn them half a dozen times," added the adjuster. "who sold them?" asked the buyer. "jones." "go get him." came jones. "but, madam," he protested, "don't you remember i warned you that you needed a 5-1/2? and don't you remember that i also suggested an a instead of a double a? and when you felt certain you wanted the 5aa, didn't i suggest that you try them again at home before having the cut-steel buckles sewn on?" well, yes, that was all quite true. but it didn't offset the fact that the shoes were too small and she couldn't wear them. two guesses as to what she got. and if each guess is a satin pump you may step quickly and quietly to the head of the class. she got a new pair of shoes. "well," sighed the buyer, when peace and quiet had been once more restored, "they tell me upstairs the customer is always right. certainly it's true that one dissatisfied woman has more effect on our business than four or five satisfied customers. oh, no, she won't go and tell her friends about the fair treatment she got here, but oh, man, if we'd let her get away! what a story that would have been--in spite of admitting she was wrong!" innumerable examples of that sort of thing might be introduced. there is the story of the north shore matron who had an expensive rug sent out, kept it three months and then decided she didn't like the color. in its place she wanted a certain oriental, but oh, dear, it was just a bit too big for her purpose. of course the rug was cut to fit. and when she decided a week later that it, too, wouldn't do and went and bought another rug somewhere else, the management thanked her kindly and credited her account with the full amount. it knew that the life of the business had to be protected, and every now and then found it distinctly worth while to take time out to look after the welfare of the enterprise. and here we face another question: "must the manager occupy his time with every minor complaint, just because it happens to be one which comes from a good customer?" to answer it, we must go back to our new york state manufacturer and strip the scenery from his particular enterprise. his is a business of few customers. except for a half-dozen famous retailers whose accounts cost more than they earn, but to whose stores he may point the finger of gesticulating pride as being among his outlets (it would be better for him if they were among his souvenirs), his business is handled through thirty or forty jobbers. naturally each of his customers is a very important unit in the business. the loss of one account is serious. so a customer to him is an outlet for business greater than the trade a big department store gets from a hundred good customers. one customer to him is as a score of customers to the manufacturer who sells to the retail trade. to him, then, a complaint from a san antonio jobber that the buttons on his pants aren't right has all the importance that the same complaint, echoed by a hundred different customers, would have to the retail merchant. looked at in this light, is it not logical that any complaint--no matter how trifling its nature--should have his prompt, personal attention? had he but known it, the letters he turned over to henry were danger signals. they warned of the need for guarding the welfare of the business--looking after its general good health. and that task, as we have said, overshadows in importance every other task which the successful manager, in his daily business of managing, may have to perform. the maintenance foreman in a new england mill walked into the agent's office one day--why the manager of a mill is called an agent is just one of those things--and said: "something's got to be done about that freight elevator over in building c, mr. dearle. i've monkeyed with it and monkeyed with it. it's just worn out, and one of these fine days, it's going to drop a couple of floors and pile up in the basement." and one fine day it did. you see, the manager was all tied up in a labor controversy. labor squabbles aren't any fun. and presumably their speedy settlement is far more important to the business than the matter of what to do about a tired freight elevator which has seen far better days. so frank the maintenance man had to run along and sell his papers. and the elevator kept on working. the day it quit, henry fitts was aboard. and when the elevator man picked himself up off the cellar floor, henry couldn't. but why go into that? henry's broken leg and henry's lost time cost the company more than a new elevator. and henry was one of the company's best technical men. lots of bum sheets and pillow cases got made and shipped and returned while henry was laid up. the damage done by that falling elevator could hardly be measured in dollars. now, then, settling the differences of capital and labor was a big job to the mill agent. saying "no" to frank was merely postponing a trifling detail. yet what a heap of difference a "yes" would have made. that defective elevator, because it endangered lives, overshadowed all else in importance, had the agent viewed his job from the standpoint of caring for the business. the knack of safeguarding its welfare lies not merely in doing tasks that preserve the safety of the business or job, but also in the ability to discern when such tasks are really mere trifles, and when, because of their potential effect, they are details vital to the life of the business. how is a manager to know when he shall devote his entire attention to settling wage rates, and when listen to the maintenance man's song? how can the president of a million-dollar concern tell when it is good business to drop a tremendously important managerial task and listen to a customer's tale of woe about pants buttons--and personally set the complaint right? how, on the other hand, are you to know when to lay off such tasks? some few men--seventh sons of seventh sons--may be born with that instinct or knowledge. the rest of us must cultivate a true knack of conserving the business--a knack which carries with it the finest sense of discrimination and the best of business judgment. and not until we have acquired this important knack and added to it all the other knacks we've been talking about, can we consider ourselves successful managers. not until then shall we have acquired the true knack of managing. * * * * * "i've learned how to pick out the tasks that are vital to the business and make them my own special responsibilities," a successful newspaper publisher once said, "by setting up a sort of yardstick to judge every job that comes along. "my paper was in the 'red' when i bought it. it was a weak sister. it carried the least advertising, had the least circulation and exercised the least influence. today its lineage is nearly one-third more than its nearest competitor's--and circulation has more than doubled in four years, so now it tops all the rest. "i analyzed my job something like this: i bought the paper because i thought i could make money with it. to make money, i must carry a large volume of advertising. to get advertising, i must show results to advertisers. to show results, i must make my paper a real "home" paper--a paper really read and appreciated--not merely a paper with which people are only satisfied. to get that kind of circulation, i must put into the paper what people who read a paper at home wouldn't 'miss for anything.' "what did this analysis show me? simply this: that while more advertising and more circulation meant more profits, the attitude of _my_ readers toward _their_ paper meant even more--it meant business life or death. "so my yardstick is never to let anything get by me that might change our standing with our readers. the toughest business problem is shoved aside when something comes up that means loss of respect among our public. "i made it my first business to get to know our type of reader. never was a good hand at guessing. so had to learn about human nature. "after a lot of hiring and firing, picking and sorting, coaching and drilling, i got me four women who could go out and get exactly the kind of information i had to have. "each of the four took a section of the city. each section represented a distinct type of home-dweller--and it takes all kinds of people to run a world, you know--or to buy a newspaper. "every week those four women canvassed close to a thousand homes between them. their method was to tell the housewife that we were going to deliver our paper free for a week--and hoped they'd take it in and read it. a week later they went back over the same ground, soliciting subscriptions, of course, but also gathering information for me. "more important than getting a subscription was finding out why a woman subscribed--or why she wouldn't subscribe. they asked what the women thought about certain special features. "i got a lot of good pointers. for instance, i'd been a bitter opponent of the 'funnies.' but i put them back when i learned that people really wanted them. you see, i was getting a good cross section of the likes and dislikes of all my customers and my prospects. "after the 'funnies' were in--and after various other changes had been made--i sent my four scouts back once more to tell of the improvements. then we checked the new reports with the old ones. there was plenty of deadwood. i knew there would be. but there was enough good live stuff to furnish food for thought. "some needed changes couldn't be made right away. many people preferred a competing paper because it carried more department store ads. well, i couldn't do anything about that for the moment. but i could and did improve the sports page, put in more home-stuff for the women, more society news, funnier 'funnies' and so on. those were things our readers wanted which i could gradually give them. "then it was time to tackle the advertising problem. i had my ammunition. carried a bunch of reports around with me. told the merchants frankly what i was up to. showed them the reports from women who said they'd subscribe if we had more advertising as well as the reports from those who did subscribe for certain good reasons. "and i quoted a rate on what we were worth at the time, not on what i knew we could do in the future. i didn't begrudge a full day spent in one small store, if that small store advertised the stuff i felt was wanted by the people i wanted for readers. "well, they came 'round one by one--the stores and the people. and i think the results prove that i was keeping busy on the right tasks--the tasks on which the welfare of my business depends--and not on the tasks that mean only increased _volume_. "how does it affect my readers? that is my yardstick for measuring everything about my business. that is my guide to whether or not i should worry. if a little error in last night's paper has the power to affect my readers' opinion of the paper, then it's my job to run it down to earth, find out how it happened--and see that it never happens again. but if there's a big advertising contract in the offing which won't affect the permanent standing of the paper in any way whatsoever--except to increase the number of dollars that come clinking into the coffers--i don't give thirty seconds of my time to it. i hire a sales manager to do that. that's his job. the other's mine. "i'll spend a week with my managing editor trying to figure out a way to get our afternoon editions on the street a few minutes earlier. it may involve some minor change in the pressroom running into only a few hundred dollars--but it does affect our permanent place in the sun. on the other hand, the managing editor can go ahead and spend $5000 of my good money on something that has nothing to do with our readers' interest, and all i'll do is okay the expenditure. he'll do the worrying this time." * * * * * you and i aren't interested in the way this publisher went about building up his newspaper. that is to say, we don't care anything about his female quartette who went around and sang the paper's praises. his methods were sound, of course, and merit attention. but our interest right now is in his division between the tasks he watched personally and the tasks he left his business manager or his managing editor to work out for themselves. strip off the publishing scenery--just as a moment ago we stripped off the individual characteristics of a totally different business--and you find that his division is applicable not only to any business, but to any single job. which means once more that that's the way the successful manager of a steel mill or of a peanut stand will divide the tasks which confront him from nine to five every day. who are your "readers"? every business, every job has its "readers"--some element which, once injured or neglected, affects the welfare, the health, the profits, or the ultimate success of the business or job. a file clerk may acquire tremendous speed in putting letters away in drawers, but if she can't get you the correspondence you need at a moment's notice, what good is all her speed? your stenographer may keep up with you in your best and fastest moments of dictation, but if her finished letters don't say what you said, her facility isn't worth the proverbial thin dime. an accountant may work out a cost system that reflects conditions like a mirror, but what of it if his reports come out so late that they're ancient history by the time the plant manager gets them? a miller may produce a flour that contains more vitamins than any other flour on the market, but if the dough won't rise properly, it isn't much use. a small-town banker may have splendid reserves and a strong cash position, but he's going to lose your business if he asks 6-1/2 per cent interest and 3 per cent commission to extend your mortgage when the big-city bank offers you the same loan at 6 per cent interest and 2-1/2 per cent commission. that messenger boy of ours--no chapter is complete without him--may run all the way from the tribune tower to state and madison, but what if in his haste he loses the message? there is, then, in every business or job a vital element. and no one can do a good job of managing unless he finds out definitely what that element is, and then proceeds to guard it through all the hustle and bustle of cost cutting, labor saving and so on. one manager put it pretty plainly to his billing clerk. the latter tried out some short cuts. they were splendid from the billers' point of view. saved time and money. but the customers weren't used to any of this new-fangled stuff and kicked like steers. they couldn't check the invoices. or wouldn't. "they just won't use their heads. it's all as simple as abc," protested the billing clerk when the manager called him in on the carpet. "all they've got to do is check the numbers on the cartons against the numbers on the invoices. there's no need of all the description we've been giving them." "right you are, johnson," replied the manager. "but sometimes you bump up against a stone wall when you try to educate the trade. oftentimes life's too short. your system saves us money. it's good up to a certain point. that point is where your labor saving and cost cutting begin to have an adverse effect on sales or sales satisfaction. "i've seen you playing bridge at noon," he went on. "you score honors above the line, don't you? below the line you keep your game score. if you hold 80 or 90 honors in your hand, it affects your play. but you can't give your entire attention to scoring above the line, for after all it's the score below which determines who wins games and rubbers. "you can score your job in pretty much the same way. all this work you're doing along cost-cutting lines is fine. those things determine the size of your department's profits. sketch them out on a card and check them over and add to them. but below the line put down the main object of your work--to have your invoices correct and to have them so plain that no customer can fail to understand them. keep plugging away above the line. don't let me discourage any effort that will reduce costs. they're all-important. but at the same time keep your eye below the line and make sure your game score is piling up. that sort of thinking and playing wins in business just as it does in bridge." * * * * * it's a long time since we've drawn any charts. let's study the newspaper publisher's policy and see if he wasn't doing mentally just what the manager recommended that his billing clerk do on paper. you remember he made it his business to find out all about the error in last night's paper and to prevent its occurring again. that was something which, to his way of thinking, affected the permanent standing of his paper. when the department store stood ready to start a big institutional campaign which meant nothing more to his business than a big increase in volume, he left the job of closing the contract to his hired help. but when, in another newspaper, the same department store advertised a new type of radio which he thought his readers ought to know about, once more he made it his own business to go out and get a few lines for his own paper and his own readers. then, if we keep tally--and consider whether they "score" above the line as increased profits, or below the line as permanent success, our card will look something like the chart on this page. [illustration] the handling of the error in last night's paper is something that will score down where the success of the business lies--and to lose on it means losing a vital point. in short, it affects the permanent standing of the business enterprise. so does the securing of the radio advertisement. it's business news and something his readers must know about. so after it he goes. on the other hand, the institutional advertising will add only to the revenue of the newspaper. don't mistake the point. he wants that contract, too. it will add materially to his profits. but getting it or not getting it will in no way affect the standing of the paper with its customers. school will keep just the same. so that particular job is on the other side of the line. that's why he has a sales manager. to illustrate once more, let's attempt to "score" the work of a credit man. what is the "vital element" in his work? what determines whether his work is worth doing, or whether it's worthless? offhand, you might say: "preventing losses on bad debts." but is it that? surely not, when we analyze the job. the final objective of the credit department is to enable the house to sell more goods by extending credit wherever it is justified. on that basis it is easy to see that the "vital element" in the credit man's job is "to not lose a good sale"--and we know we're splitting an infinitive to say it. if it weren't, why have a credit man at all? it would be far simpler not to extend credit to anyone who could not prove his worth. [illustration] now look at the credit man's score card. such a chart might not help an old, experienced hand, but would it not help a beginner to get a grip on what his job is all about? would it not enable him to see his job from the angle of conserving the business? hold on, though. lining up the various jobs according to whether they score "above or below the line"--that is, whether they affect the essential well-being of the business or simply swell its profit--does not mean that he shall neglect all tasks above the line any more than give his constant attention to those that score below the line. the chief value of such an outline of your job or business is to keep actively in mind a sense of the vital spots to guard--the spots to keep an eye on--the tasks for which you are always ready to plunge in and defend, once they are threatened. wherever you find a successful manager, whether running a big business or just handling a small job, you will see that he has a clear understanding of the elements that mean the life of his work. and further observation will show that he is always protecting them. * * * * * the head miller in a small flour mill was smart and aggressive--a bit on the "go-getter" order, to be sure, but very, very competent none the less. it seems he had worked out some method of increasing the nutritive value of the mill's best grade of flour by adding something or other--it doesn't matter what. naturally he was enthusiastic. why not? he had persuaded the manager to have this new product analyzed by experts--and the analyses had proved extremely favorable. he wanted to go ahead. but the manager moved slowly. "it may make a good flour and the bread made from it may be good for the digestion," said he, "but will the bread taste as good?" finally, after trying out the flour in his own home, he refused to go ahead with the project. the miller, knowing how good the bread would be for people, fired up his job, went into business for himself and put his trick flour on the market. [illustration] it never sold. the bread baked from it didn't taste good. the mill owner, you see, had kept his eye on what the miller had neglected--the big, vital element of the business--that people bought flour to make bread, and that anything affecting the quality and taste of the bread must therefore be handled very carefully. what the miller needed, to take the place of the boss's years of experience, was a chart like the one on the opposite page--a graphic outline in skeleton form of his work's vital element. what a different aspect could be put on many an employee's work if the employer, instead of depending on the man's own-farsightedness in seeing the main items of value in his work, would graphically put them before him by some such chart as this one! right here, however, we must guard against one important characteristic of this vital element. it changes--or at least it _may_ change as the business develops. ask the manager of the circularizing department of a certain mail-order house. he will tell you it's volume. all his other problems have been stabilized except the single job of getting out enough circulars every day to keep the required volume of orders flowing in. again, go to the circularizing room of an eastern financial house and the manager will tell you that the vital element in his work is quality--quality addressing, quality folding and so on. here the whole success of the department depends upon reflecting the dignity and prestige of the house. the danger point with this manager is therefore touched by anything that might affect the quality of the work. many a manufacturer starts with limited capital. for the first year or two the vital element in his business is finance. he may have to sacrifice attention to production and sales problems in order to guard the slender balance in the bank. sometimes he may have to pay higher prices for materials because he must buy in small quantities; he may even have to check sales because he hasn't the capital with which to finance them. later, though, as a reserve is built up, or when better credit is established, he will find the vital element has shifted to manufacturing, buying, or maybe sales. a certain shoe manufacturer--we seem to gravitate toward shoes every so often--found manufacturing the vital element of his business a scant dozen years ago. his big job was to see that shoes went out the door. he doubled the size of his plant. in the short space of three years his problem had shifted to one of sales--he was no longer getting enough volume to fill his plants. and today his greatest concern is his shrinking bank balance. the same tendency toward change will be found in individual jobs. the traffic manager of an electrical supply house deposes that the vital element in his department's work changed completely in less than two years. "when i first came here," he declares, "the business had grown faster than our manufacturing facilities. we were always working close up to the contract date for delivery. i was hired simply because i had a reputation for being able to speed up shipping, pick the shortest routes and rush things through at the last minute. "later on, we got in better shape in the factory. the goods began to come through to us further in advance of the promised delivery dates. i noticed this and changed my methods. where i had previously watched after speed alone, slapping things into any old case to get them packed, hustling them out by any route which would save a day, regardless of rates, i now began to pack more carefully, to sort mixed shipments in order to get the lowest classification in freight rates, to pick the cheapest routes, and so on. "one day the chief called me in and gave me a raise. "'warren,' said he, 'i thought i'd have to fire you when we got past the rush stage. i had you down as just a speed demon. but you have been wise enough to change your methods as conditions changed. and i want you to know we appreciate it.'" a similar shift is noted by the managing editor of a well-known business paper. "when i took hold five years ago, it was a constant fight against time. we never had quite enough material on hand. there was always a mad scramble at the last moment to put the book to bed. night after night i stuck around writing fillers--a column here, half a column there. "today it's quite a different story. we have a carefully selected inventory from which we make up our schedules at least 60 days ahead of publication. we have figured out close production dates--and we stick to 'em. there's no longer the problem of digging up enough eleventh-hour material to get out an issue. the job is one of selection. my biggest care is to find room for all the things i know our readers are interested in." a constant check is the safest way to note in time the conditions that govern the conservation of the welfare of your job or business. check the points above the line and watch the points below the line. that constant effort to measure the importance of all the things that come up before him by their effects above and below the danger line will do much to keep a manager practical. for summed up, the "practical" man is the one who combines with his progressiveness and vision the knack of never letting his progressive ideas puncture the vital element of his business and bleed it to death. * * * * * make your score in any form that fits your needs or your tastes, but make it--watch it--act on it. some men can do the scoring in their heads. most of us, even in so simple a procedure as keeping our golf scores, find it's better to carry it on paper. on paper? can a man with real work to do, spend his time plotting curves and making pie charts? does the knack of managing depend upon a man's ability to draw pictures? not at all. if that's the impression you have gained from reading this little book, go back to the beginning and start all over again. if, from time to time, charts and diagrams have been suggested, it is only because the successful manager has somehow or other to go through precisely those same motions. his job--if he is to understand it and manage it successfully--must be analyzed somehow, sometime. we have merely suggested ways in which the analysis can be made more easily and intelligently by means of charts. his operations must be planned--in his head or on paper--if he is to perform them with the least lost motion, lost time and lost money. the knack of managing has simply gathered from other men's methods a form of chart by which planning can be done more accurately. again, his work must be organized--if it is to be done in the simplest and best way. an attempt, then, has been made to sift the organization methods of successful managers and firms to develop a chart which at least indicates how to go about organizing the work. "help" must be handled. so, from the experiences of shrewd managers, we have dug out the gist of their ideas and put it in the form of a chart that gives a basis on which to work. above all, a business or job must be conserved and cared for. the charting method suggested is but the method used by every successful manager--though he does not take the time to reduce his plans to paper. and last, in our search to acquire the knack of managing, have we not learned that the fundamental principles of management are universally applicable? more than anything else we have seen why the manager who has made a success in one business can step right into another and make the same brilliant record. his business, after all, is not ships or shoes or sewing machines. it's managing. and that job, in its fundamental principles, is the same, whether it's running the u. s. steel corporation or operating a peanut stand. that's our story--and we'll stick to it. team note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 12518-h.htm or 12518-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/1/2/5/1/12518/12518-h/12518-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/1/2/5/1/12518/12518-h.zip) the adventures of a forty-niner an historic description of california, with events and ideas of san francisco and its people in those early days by daniel knower 1894 dedicated to colonel jonathan stevenson, colonel john c. freemont, and captain john a. sutter, the three pre-eminent pioneers of california. [illustration: daniel knower.] preface the discovery of gold in california, in 1848, with its other mineral resources, including the alamada quicksilver mine at san josé, which is an article of first necessity in working gold or silver ore; and the great silver mines of nevada, in 1860, the comstock lode, in which, in ten years, from five to eight hundred millions of gold and silver were taken out, a larger amount than was ever taken from one locality before, the alamada quicksilver mine being the second most productive of any in the world, the one in spain being the largest, said to be owned by the rothschilds. its effect upon the general prosperity and development of our country has been immense, almost incalculable. before these discoveries the amount of gold in the united states was estimated at about seventy millions, now it is conceded to be seven hundred millions. the northern pacific coast was then almost unpopulated. california a territory three times as large as new york and oregon and the state of washington, all now being cultivated and containing large and populous cities, and railroads connecting them with the east. why that country should have remained uninhabited for untold ages, where universal stillness must have prevailed as far as human activity is concerned, is one of the unfathomable mysteries of nature. it is only one hundred and twenty-five years since the bay of san francisco was first discovered, one of the grandest harbors in the world, being land-locked, extending thirty miles, where all the vessels of the world could anchor in safety. the early pioneers of those two years immediately after the gold was discovered (of which i am writing) are passing away. as ossian says, "people are like the waves of the ocean, like the leafs of woody marvin that pass away in the rustling blast, and other leaves lift up their green heads." there is probably not five per cent of the population of california to-day, of those days, scenes and events of which i have tried to portray. another generation have taken their places who can know but little of those times except by tradition. i, being one of the pioneers, felt it a duty, or an inspiration seemed to come over me as an obligation i owed to myself and compatriots of those times, to do what i could to perpetuate the memory of them to some extent in the history of our country as far as i had the ability to do it. the author. the california pioneer society. the california pioneer society was organized in august, 1850. the photograph of their building appears on the cover of this book, w.d.m. howard was their first president. among their early presidents, and prominent in the days of forty-niners, were samuel branan, thomas larkins, wm. d. farewell, and james lick--who liberally endowed it. [illustration: building of the society of california pioneers.] it was organized for the purpose of perpetuating the memory of the events of those days and for the benefit and mutual protection of its members. no person was eligible for membership except he had arrived in california before the 1st of january, 1850, and the descendants of forty-niners when arriving at the age of twenty-one are eligible. at the opening of the world's fair in san francisco in january last, in the ceremonies in the marching of the procession through the streets of the city, they were received with the greatest enthusiasm and cheers, which was a marked manifestation of the veneration in which they are held by the people of california. the adventures of a forty-niner. the writer was practising his profession in the city of albany, his native place, in 1848, when reports came of the discovery of gold in california. in a short time samples of scales of the metal of the river diggings were on exhibition, sent to friends in the city in letters. many of colonel stevenson's regiment had been recruited in that city. soon these rumors were exaggerated. it was said that barrels of gold were dug by individuals named. soon the excitement extended all over the country, and the only barrier to wealth, it seemed, was the difficulty of getting to the eldorado. why the discovery of gold there should have produced so much excitement cannot be fathomed. it seemed an era in human affairs, like the crusades and other events of great importance that occur. your correspondent became one of its votaries, and organized a company to go to the gold rivers and secure a fortune for all interested in it, and it seemed all that was required was to get there and return in a short time and ride in your carriage and astonish your friends with your riches. suffice it to say, this company was fully organized (with its by-laws and system of government drawn up by the writer), and sailed from the port of new york on the ship _tarrolinter_ on the 13th of january, 1849, to go around cape horn, arriving in san francisco on the following july. from that time i became absorbed in all the news from the gold regions, and losing confidence somewhat in the certainty of a fortune from my interest in the company, and reading of the high price of lumber, the scarcity of houses, and the extraordinary high wages of mechanics there, conceived the project of shipping the materials for some houses there, having all the work put on them here that could be done, thus saving the difference in wages, and to have them arrive there before the rainy season set in, and thus realize the imaginary fortune that i had expected from my interest in the company. in the following spring i had twelve houses constructed. the main point upon which my speculation seemed to rest was to get them to san francisco before the rainy season commenced. i went to new york to secure freight for them in the fastest vessel. fortunately for me, as i conceived at the time, i found the day before i arrived in new york, the _prince de joinville,_ a havre packet ship, had been put up to sail for the port of san francisco, and as yet had engaged no freight. i made a bargain with them at once to take my houses at sixty cents per square foot, and had the contract signed, half to be delivered at the side of the ship by such a date and the other half at a subsequent date. i delivered the first half of the houses on the time agreed, sending them down the hudson river by a barge on a tow. i sent the second half on a barge to get there on the day they were due, apprehending no trouble, i going down myself a few days in advance. they commenced complaining at the ship that they would not have room for the balance of my houses on board, although i had their written contract to take them at sixty cents per foot. there was great california excitement about this time, and other parties had come to the conclusion that the _prince de joinville_ was probably the fastest ship taking freight for san francisco. i saw them accept of offers at $1.50 per foot, when their contract with me was for less than half that price, which would make a difference of several thousand dollars in their favor. so, if the balance of my houses did not arrive within the time stated in the contract, they would not be taken on that vessel, and my speculation ruined. the time was up the next day at twelve o'clock. i was down on the battery the next morning early watching for the tow, with the barge with my houses. the ship was at the dock in the east river. about ten o'clock, a.m., i had the good fortune to see the barge rounding the battery. i cried out to the captain to cut loose from the tow, employ the first steam tug and i would pay the bill, which he did, getting on the side of the vessel by eleven o'clock, thus saving my contract by one hour. but they did not commence taking them on board, so the captain of the barge put a demurrage of $20 per day for detention. in the meantime, i had bought my ticket to sail by the steamer _georgia_ to the isthmus to go on the 1st of july which was but a few days off. they, seeing that i had them on my contract, came to me and said that my houses should go on their ship according to contract, if they had to throw other freight out, and that they would sign a regular bill of lading for all the material deliverable to me upon the arrival of the _prince de joinville_ at the port of san francisco, and take my carpenters' specifications for the description of them, which seemed all right to me. the following is an article from the _albany evening atlas_ of june 23, 1849: "california houses. "our estimable fellow citizen dr. knower, who is to start for california by the crescent city _via_ panama, is about to ship to that place twelve houses, complete and ready to put up on arrival at san francisco. the venture is a costly one, the freight on the material approaching the cost of as many frame buildings in this quarter, and the projector, we think, has managed the speculation with great foresight and judgment. the best timber has been selected, and the best work men employed, and a plan of architecture pursued, which is supposed to offer the greatest advantages with the most economical expenditures of material. four of these buildings are 18 feet front and 25 feet deep. a partition running lengthways divides the buildings into two rooms, and the stairs leads to a second platform, which is large enough for bedrooms, or for storing materials and tools of miners. two others are 18 feet front and 18 feet deep, with a small extension in the rear of 8 feet. two are 16 feet in front and 22 feet deep, with the entrance on the gable front; and the four others are 18 feet front by 14 deep. the sides of the building will be composed of a double framework of boards planed, grooved and tongued, fitting air tight on each side of the timber, the interval between them being either filled with the moss of the country or left vacant, the confined column of the air being found sufficient to keep off the excess of cold or heat. the roofs of all the buildings shed from the front, except two of which are of gable shape. the roofs are to be made of solid, close-fitting planks, covered with fine ticking and coated with the patent indestructible fire-proof paint, and applications which our citizens have just begun to use here, and which they have, found entirely successful. "the houses can be easily transported to the placers or may be put up on the sea-board. we should suppose that the numerous land-owners who are speculating on the prospects of future cities would be glad to give the land necessary for the location of this village. "the houses go by the _prince de joinville_, a first-class vessel, which leaves new york soon." i sailed on the steamer which left new york at 5 p.m., july 1, 1849. friends were there to see me off, but there were no persons on the boat that i had ever seen before--i was wondering who would be my first acquaintance. being very tired, i retired soon to my berth, and woke up the next morning on the broad ocean. two days of sea sickness and i was all right again. there were about one thousand passengers from all parts of our country. i tried to fathom the motives and standing of different ones. colonel b. from kentucky, an aristocratic-looking man, with his slave for a body servant, who could not have been bought for less than $1,500 in kentucky, where slavery existed at that time. why a man in his circumstances should be going to california to seek gold i could not fathom. one day a party of us were seated around the table talking matters over. it was proposed that each should reveal to the others what he expected to do and his motives for the expedition. we each related our expectations and the motives that had inspired us. my aristocratic friend was one of the party. my curiosity was at its height to know his views. he said: "well, gentlemen, you have all been candid in your statements, and i shall be the same; i am going to california to deal faro, the great american gambling game, and i don't care who knows it." later on in my narrative, i shall have occasion to refer to colonel b. again under other circumstances. the fourth day out being the fourth of july, was duly celebrated on the steamer in true american style. our course was to the east of cuba. we passed in sight of the green hills of san domingo to our left, and in sight of jamaica to our right, crossing the caribbean sea, whose grand, gorgeous sunsets i shall never forget. i could not buy a ticket in new york for the steamer from panama to san francisco, but was informed at the office in new york that sixty tickets were for sale in panama by zackery, nelson & co., the american consul, who were agents for the steamer on the pacific side. i naturally supposed that those who offered their money first for those tickets could buy them. the price was $300 for the first cabin, and $150 for the second, from panama to san francisco; but a fraction of the passengers had a ticket for the pacific side. the objective point was to get to panama to secure a ticket, so i made an arrangement with four others; three were to take charge of the baggage of the five, and take it leisurely, and lieutenant m., of south carolina, and myself were selected to run an express across the isthmus and get there ahead of the other passengers and secure tickets for the five, and try and be the first to land at chagres. we came to anchor in the bay. the captain announced that no passengers would be permitted to go ashore until the government officials had inspected the vessel. a boat came from shore with the officials. after a short stay the officials went down the side of the steamer to their boat to return to the shore. there was a guard to keep all but the proper persons from getting into the boat. i had a small carpet bag in my hand, passed the guard, slipped a $5 gold piece in his hands, and took my seat in the boat, and, of course, passed as one of the officials, and was the first passenger to land from the steamer. the first point to be made was to secure a boat for passage up the chagres river. i was recommended to colonel p., who was the head man in that business there. he was a colonel in the granadian army. i found him a full-blooded african, but an active business man in his way. i got his price for a boat and two of his best men, and then offered double the price if they would row night and day, and an extra present to the men if they made good time, for every thing seemed to depend on securing those tickets on the pacific side. by the time i had all my arrangements made, lieutenant m. made his appearance. he said he was the second passenger that landed from the steamer. then behold us in what they called a dug-out, a boat somewhat similar to a canoe, with a little canopy over the center that you could crawl under to lay down with the two naked natives, with the exception of a cloth around their loins, neither understanding each other's language, to whom we could only communicate by signs. at 4 p.m., starting for gorgona, fifty-five miles up the river, where we were to land and take mules for panama. eight miles was the first stopping place. we felt elated that we had got so good a start of all the other passengers. the denseness of the vegetation first attracted our attention on the banks of the river. the trees, the vines, the shrubbery, the vines clinging to the trees, hanging in all fantastic shapes, it seemed to be impenetrable, an ocean of green, unlike any thing we had ever seen before. early in the evening we arrived at the first stopping place, eight miles on our way up the river, where we both made ourselves at home, excited at the strangeness of the scene, surrounded by the thatched huts of the natives, who were having a dance on the square in the village. after we had been there an hour, we thought our men had their rest, and it was time to go on according to our contract, to be rowed night and day. in the meantime it seems the natives had taken some offense at lieutenant m.'s familiarity, and they appeared with handles of long knives projecting back of their necks in a threatening manner. we likewise learned that that was the home of one of our men, and that he proposed to stay there all night in violation of the contract. so we had a consultation to decide what to do to get away. it was pitch dark; we laid our plan. lieutenant m. beckoned one of the men away from the dance as if he wanted to give him something, and drew his pistol on him and marched him down to the boat, while i, with a pistol, kept him there while he went for the other man. after a while he came with him and we got them both in the boat and started. about this time there was a storm came up with the rain, and thunder and lightning, as the elements can only perform in that way in the tropics, surrounded by impenetrable darkness, and to us an unknown river, with its serpents and alligators, with our two naked savages, that we only got in the boat by force, and, of course, could not feel very friendly toward us. expecting to be fired on from the shore, if they could see us through the darkness, we took our departure from our first landing place on the chagres river, surrounded by romance enough to satisfy the most romantic imagination in that line. our men kept steadily to work. after a while the clouds broke away, the moon showed itself, and we made good progress that night. we had no trouble with our men after that. the colonel at chagres had evidently given us his best man. they found that we were masters of the situation and it was for their interest to submit. we treated them kindly after that, and all went well, for we passed every boat we came to. i shall never forget the look of despair at two frenchmen, evidently gentlemen, as we went by them, and they informed us the length of time they had been coming up the river, and that they could do nothing with their men. that afternoon we came in sight of a thatched hut on the banks, evidently a ranch. we thought it for our interest to rest. we saw a man whom we took for the proprietor, entirely naked, rubbing his back against a post. on landing and approaching him he excused himself for a short time, and returned dressed, walking with the air of a lord of a manor, which dress consisted of a coarse bagging shirt, coming down to his knees. we arrived the next day at 11 a.m., at gorgona, and took our dinner at the hotel kept by the alcalde of the place, and bargained with him for a guide and three mules to continue our journey to panama. as soon as our guides and mules were ready, about 1 p.m., we started for panama. we soon got enough of our mules by being thrown a number of times over their heads. they did not understand our language. "get up and go along," was greek to them, but when the guide said "mula vamous" they knew what it meant. on reaching the place where we were to stay all night, we arose in the morning refreshed, but concluded to leave our mules and make the rest of the way a-foot, as we considered them a nuisance, and as we had no baggage but my little satchel previously referred to, in which i had bills of lading of my houses, they being consigned to me, the specifications of my carpenter's schedule, my letters and a gold chronometer watch, worth $250, belonging to h., a broker in new york, a friend, and a bottle of the best brandy, which he presented to me to keep off the fever in crossing the isthmus. this bag i handed to the guide boy, about seventeen years of age, taking out the brandy bottle. the watch i was to sell, for he had two nephews who had gone to california, and if they were in need, to supply their wants. i did not meet them; sold the watch for $500 to mr. haight, one of the owners of the miners' bank in san francisco, and remitted the money to my friend, so i shall not refer to the watch again. we were walking on at a free pace, our guide boy following behind. looking back after awhile we could not see him. we stopped and waited some time, but he did not come, so we thought we would go on and he would follow. the result was we lost our way and craved for a sight of the pacific ocean with all the ardor that gilboa could have done, the first spanish discoverer of it, and on the same route, after our wanderings all day, almost without hope, until four in the afternoon, we came to a stream of water; oppressed with the heat of the tropics and fatigued i threw myself in the water. lieutenant m. exclaimed: "do not give up in that way." "i am not giving up," i replied; "only refreshing myself." in a short time he did the same thing. as we lay there we thought we heard voices. in looking back who should we see but one of our countrymen, the most gladdening sight to us. we felt saved at once. we asked him if he had any provision. he said he thought not. then he said one of his companions might have a little piece of ham left and some crackers. he said there were three of them, and they would soon be there, and when they came one of them had some bacon and a few crackers, which he gave to us. the eating of it soon refreshed us. as i had some of the brandy left in the bottle, i extended it to them, which they were very glad to receive. explanations ensued. we, by chance, had struck the crusos road, and were but ten miles from panama. they had come from philadelphia in a brig, and had started across from crusos, the head of boating on the chagres river, and had been from two to three weeks getting so far across the isthmus, and were perfectly astonished at the rapidity with which we had come. so we joined them and arrived in panama that evening. lieutenant m. and myself were the first of the one thousand passengers of the _georgia_ to enter the city. the office of the agents of the pacific steamers was closed. i went, the first thing in the morning, to purchase the five tickets for our party. alas for human expectation! i was informed it would be several weeks before the steamer would sail. she had not yet returned from the first trip to san francisco. they said there were but sixty tickets for sale, and they would not be offered until a few days before the departure of the steamer. of course, all we could do was to abide our chances of getting them. the city was walled around and dyked like those of the middle ages. toward the bay the wall was one hundred feet high by twenty broad. the city had been on the decline for most a hundred years. we could see the ruins of what it once had been. at one time spain owned all south america, mexico, california, louisiana and florida. panama was the only port of entry on the pacific coast, and controlled its commerce. as you enter the gates of the walled city there is a chapel just inside, where the lights are always burning on its altars. the first thing on entering all good catholics enter, kneel and make their devotions, seeking the protection of the patron saint of the city. the head alcalder of the city was a castilian spaniard, a venerable-looking gentleman, white as any northern man, evidently of scandinavian descent, who ages back conquered spain and divided the land up among themselves and became its nobility, from whom the present rulers of spain are descendants. it is said that when conquered, the original inhabitants of spain, to a great extent, fled to their vessels, put to sea, and found the island of ireland, from which the present inhabitants are descendants. the second alcalder was a negro as black as i have ever seen. in the city of panama in its days of prosperity, when under spain, the higher classes must have lived in great luxuries, the negroes their slaves. the natives the peons were in a condition similar to slavery, they could not leave the land as long as they owed any thing. but the despotism of old spain became so great that when they struck for freedom, all classes united. they gave freedom to the negroes and the peons, and even the priests of the catholic church had been so tyrannized over by the mother church in spain that they joined the revolutionists and all classes are represented in the government. i called at a watchmaker's to have a crystal put in my watch. two brothers had furnished rooms like a parlor. i could not speak spanish, nor they english. i could speak a little french. i found they could speak it fluently. i asked them where they learned it. they said, "at the jesuit college at granada." then one, of them, when he learned that i was from the united states, went to the piano and played hail columbia as a compliment to my country, which would trouble most of us to do the same for their country. there are now great trees growing up in the ruins of what was once its great cathedral. the freebooter morgan is said to have plundered one of its altars of a million of gold and silver, and massacred many of its inhabitants, perpetrating on them the atrocities that their ancestors had upon the original natives. it is said that when pizarro captured peru and took the inca, their king, prisoner, he issued a decree that if his subjects would fill a room with gold, he would release him, which they did. instead of doing it, he sentenced him to be burned at the stake, and only commuted it to hanging on condition that he confessed the christian religion. madam roland, when she was about to be guillotined in the french revolution, exclaimed, "o liberty, what crimes have been committed in thy name." o christianity, what terrible atrocities have been perpetrated in thy name! panama is a healthy city to those acclimated, facing a beautiful bay, unlike chagres, on this side of the isthmus of darien, which is the most unhealthy spot on this continent. excuse this diversion, i must get back to my subject, the days of the forty-niners. i stopped at the american hotel. i was somewhat in a dilapidated condition from the experiences of my trip from chagres. the waiter in my room at the hotel took the best of care of me. i soon found he was no ordinary waiter. he had resigned a position in washington of $2,000 a year to go to the gold eldorado. he had been in panama several months, and had been taken down with the fever twice, which had exhausted his funds and was working at the hotel for his board, but never thought of turning back. he was bound for california. he was quite enfeebled from the effects of the fever. he got hold of my sympathies and secured my friendship. (more of him anon.) i had been here four or five days without seeing our guide, the boy with my satchel, containing my valuables, particularly the bills of lading of my houses. i was in a quandary and anxiety about it, not knowing what to do, when one day as i was going to dinner, something pulled my coat from behind, and looking around, what should i see to my great joy and satisfaction but the native boy with my satchel, contents there all safe. it was an instance of honesty that would do honor to any nation. i gave some honest catholic priest credit for it. the boy had evidently been instructed what to do. the great objective point now was, how to get to san francisco. there was no hope for a sailing vessel from this place, for we saw one return for water that had been chartered by a party that had been out three weeks, and scarcely got out of sight of the city. there is very little chance for a sailing vessel from there until they get west several hundred miles, and strike the trade winds. the chances were better with the sailing vessel to start from new york and go around cape horn. so the only hope seemed to be the steamer with its sixty tickets and with from one thousand to fifteen hundred passengers waiting to buy them, all seeking to bring some influence to bear to secure one. i saw in the office of the steamer agent a young man, the book-keeper, whom i took a fancy to, and sought his acquaintance. i found he was from hudson, n.y., and i, from albany, both from the banks of the hudson river. it ripened into a warm friendship. i explained my situation to him, and my desire, if it was possible, to get off on the steamer, but did not venture to ask his influence to try and get me a ticket. at this time the cholera and panama fever was raging in full force. the acclimatednacclimated americans were dying in every direction. i was conversing at 8 a.m. with a healthy looking man, one of our passengers, from new york. at 5 p.m., the same day, i inquired for him and was informed that he was dead and buried. he had been attacked with the cholera. it was a law of the city that they must be buried within one hour after death from a contagious disease. i was finally myself taken down with the panama fever, lay unconscious and unnoticed in my room at the hotel for a long time, and then came to and found myself burning with the raging fever, had a doctor sent for, and after a time recovered so i could venture out. in the meantime, the steamer _panama_ had arrived, and its day of sailing for san francisco announced. zackary, nelson & co. had issued an order that the sixty tickets would be put up to be drawn for. those having the winning numbers could have the privilege of purchasing them; that they must register their names on such a day. probably one thousand names and but sixty tickets. the chances were small, but the only hope. on that day, i went early to register, as i was still very weak from the effects of the fever, and at my best in the morning. as i entered, there was a great number there registering. when my turn came, and i was about to put down my name, i looked behind the desk and saw my friend, the book-keeper. he shook his head for me not to. i knew that meant something favorable. i backed out. i returned at once to the hotel. in the evening, about 8 o'clock, my friend came to my room with a second cabin ticket. the joys of paradise centered into my possession of that ticket. i asked him how did he obtain it? he said he was about to resign his position, and was going up on the same steamer to california. the night before the drawing he asked mr. nelson if his services had been satisfactory to him. he said they had. he then said if he should ask him a favor on leaving him if he would grant it? he replied certainly. he then said that he wanted one of those sixty tickets for a particular friend. mr. nelson said, "if i had known what you was going to ask for, i could not have granted it; but since i have pledged my word, i shall give you the ticket." the next day passengers would be received on the steamer, which was anchored out in the bay, some distance from shore. it was announced that no sick persons could go on the steamer. as i was quite enfeebled from my sickness, and was at my best in the morning, i thought i would make an early start, so as to be sure and be aboard, as they were all to be on board the vessel to sail early the next morning. i started out for a boat to take me out to it with the highest elasticity of feelings, not so much from the prospect of financial success as the idea that if i could get north again my physical health would be restored, and the steamer was going north. it seemed at times that i would have given $1,000 for one good breath of northern air. as i was going along, some distance ahead of me, sitting at the doors of a doggery, with his head almost between his knees, the picture of despair, was my washington friend, who waited on my room at the hotel when i first arrived, did me many favors, and got hold of my sympathies. i said to myself, poor fellow, i can do nothing for you. i must not let him see me, so i dodged and passed him. when i got some distance by him my conscience smote me. i will go back and speak to him; so i did. i had advised him a few days previous to go and see some officers of the boat and offer to go up as waiter without pay. i asked him if he had done so, and what luck? he said there was no hope. they told him they had been offered $300 for the privilege of going up as waiter. i then told him i had a ticket. i was going then for a boat to go on board. that his case was desperate, and that desperate cases required desperate remedies; that he had been down twice with the fever, and the next time he would probably die; that he had no friends there nor money; if he would do as i told him i would stand by him and he must have nerve. he said to me: "how can a man have nerve without a dollar in his pocket?" which exclamation has occurred to me many times since. i asked him to hire a boat to get him out to the vessel, and what it would cost. he said $2. i gave him the money and told him to get his baggage. he said he had none. i told him to come about 11 o'clock and go to work among the hands as if he was one of them; that all were new hands and officers, and they would not know the difference. he said that the captain had said if any person was caught on board without a ticket they would be put on shore at the first uninhabited island. i told him i would attend to that in his case. i went on board and got my berth and baggage all in. about 11 o'clock i saw my friend coming over the water making for the vessel. there was considerable confusion on board at the time, passengers constantly arriving, and he was not noticed, and he went to work among the hands as if he had been regularly employed. in a short time the officers were arranging the men in line to pass the baggage, and said to him: "you stand here and help pass it," of course, taking him for one of the men of the boat. in the evening he came and spoke to me. i said all right so far. but in the morning, he said, they are going to examine every person, then they will put me ashore. i said, keep a stiff upper lip. if you get in trouble, come to me. the next morning the gun fired, the anchor was raised, and we sailed down to bogota, an island similar to staten island in the new york harbor. the health officers came out. then my friend trembled and thought the day of judgment had come to him, but the health officers were on board but a short time. no examination of those on board took place. the signal gun for departure was fired. we passed out of the harbor. the bow of our vessel was pointed north, and we felt extremely happy. i said to him, "this vessel is bound for san francisco, and you are aboard, and will get there as soon as i will." a few days after that the mate was arranging the employment of the men, and when he came to my friend's turn he said to him, "who employed you? you are not an able-bodied seaman." he made no reply. they could see he was a man of intelligence, and his pale look showed he had been sick. it may have moved the sympathies of the officer, who said to him, "this vessel is crowded with people; it wont do for us to be short of water, and i will put the water in your charge, and you must not let any passenger, or even the steward, have any except according to the regulations, and if you attend to that properly no other services will be required of you." that took him off of the anxious seat and put him on the solid. in all his adversities he never thought of turning back. that commanded my esteem. his attentions to me, when sick, aroused my sympathies for him, which good action on his part saved him. of one thousand passengers desirous of getting on that steamer, and there was room but for sixty on the day of its departure; his chance looked the most hopeless, being penniless, but he was one of the fortunate ones, while those who had plenty of money were left. it illustrated the old maxim, "where there is a will there is a way." nothing of interest occurred until we got to the port of acupulco, the largest place on the west coast of mexico. we were about to enter the harbor when a government boat with officials came out and ordered us to stop. if we proceeded any further there would be "matter trouble" in broken english. there were americans on shore who had crossed over from vera cruz for the purpose of taking this steamer. it would be a month before there would be another one, and then there would be no certainty of their getting aboard of that. the captain held a consultation of the passengers, who all decided to have them come on board. they were our countrymen and we would share our berths with them, although the vessel was then crowded, and some of the passengers volunteered to row ashore with the small boats to bring them aboard, which they did. when they approached the shore there was a company of soldiers waded in the water with pointed guns, forbidding them to approach any nearer. the americans who were on the bank informed them that the soldiers would fire, and warning them not to approach any nearer, while bewailing their fate that they had to be left, so they returned. then the captain received notice to leave in half an hour or the guns of the fort would open fire on us. it was a bright moonlight night. the fort was on a high knoll just above us, and could have blown us out of the water. so we thought discretion was the better part of valor, and we had to leave. the laws of nations were on their side. we were from an infected port, panama, where cholera prevailed. on board the steamer were some men of prominence. w.f. mccondery, from boston, a retired east india sea captain, a man of wealth, who had been out of business for three years and craved for a more exciting life; who started the largest commission-house in san francisco, and had consigned to him about all the shipments from boston, and likewise the _prince de joinville_ with my houses; mr. g., from liverpool, an englishman, who had about all the consignments from that city; rothschild's nephew, who had represented that house as a banker in valparaiso, chili, was going to establish a branch of those great bankers' house in san francisco; judge terry, from louisiana, who had the reputation at that time of being a dead shot with a pistol, who afterward challenged united states senator broderick to fight a duel, from political influences, and killed him, and some years afterward was assassinated himself from a disagreement with parties about a lawsuit. we came opposite mazland at the mouth of the gulf of california, and took on board some passengers and freight. the next incident in our voyage was when we came in sight of san diego, california, and saw the american flag floating from the flag staff. there was an instantaneous shout went up from every american on board. we were once more to be under its protection in our own country. love of country, mystic fire from heaven, to light our race up to stateliest heights 'tis given. we were entering the golden gate. it was but four miles to the harbor where we cast anchor, opposite the city of san francisco, which was the goal of our hopes for so long a time, and which was about to be realized; which was also the objective point from almost every part of the world where adventurers are seeking to get. we had come three thousand, five hundred miles since we left panama. we engaged a row-boat to take us ashore. my friend attended to getting my baggage out of the boat, and went with me to the shore. he had signed no papers, and entered into no bonds not to desert the vessel at san francisco, as the other sailors had. he was free to do as he pleased. i had the chills and fever all the way up, from the effects of the panama fever. my first idea was to get in good quarters, whatever expense, to regain my health. i was informed that there was a good hotel kept by a widow woman on montgomery street, where we landed. some of the other passengers were going to stop there. i inquired the terms. they said $5 per day. i thought i would try it for a while. my sleeping-room was a mattress laid on the floor, with muslin partitions to separate us from the next room. the table was very indifferent, no vegetables, which i required, which we lacked on the ship coming up. being in poor health, i needed them. after being there a few days one of our passengers asked me if i knew what the charges were. i said yes, $5 per day. he said it was more; i had better ask again, which i did. i was informed it was $5 for the room and extra for the meals. i paid my bill and looked out for other quarters. i had brought in my baggage an indian rubber mattress and pillow which was folded up in a small space and could be blown up with your breath and filled with air, made a soft bed, a pair of new mackinaw blankets and other things to provide for any contingency, and took my meals at a restaurant, which were numerous, including the chinese which we often patronized, and found myself satisfactorily quartered. it may not be inappropriate to make some general remarks about the history of california. although my subject is strictly on the days of forty-niners, which consisted of about two years from the discovery of the gold, when it was supposed that the future prosperity of the country depended exclusively on the mining interest. how different it has turned out since has nothing to do with my subject. i want to try to paint to the mind of the reader the condition of california at that time, and the views of the pioneers in those days. i am doing it in the form of a personal narrative, as it enables me more distinctly to recall to my mind the events of those days in which i was a participant. such fluctuations of fortune as then occurred, the world never saw before in the same space of time, and probably never will again, where common labor was $16 per day. there were some very interesting and truthful articles published in the _century_ magazine two years ago from the pen of the pioneers, but there has been no book published as a standard work for the present and future, and the participants in it are passing away, for it is forty-five years since they occurred. california is three times larger in territory than the state of new york. its population before the discovery of gold, including indians and all, was but a few thousand. cattle could be bought for $1 per head, and all the land they ranged upon thrown in the bargain for nothing. they were killed for their hides, and the meat thrown away, as there was no one to eat it. a few historical items. san francisco bay, first discovered the 25th of october, 1769. the first ship that ever entered the harbor was the _san carlos_, june, 1775. the mission of dolores founded by the jesuit fathers in 1769. colonel jonathan stevenson arrived at california with one thousand men on the 7th of march, 1847. the treaty of hidalgo ceding california to the united states by mexico, officially proclaimed by the president, july 4, 1848. gold first discovered by marshall, january 9, 1848. january, 1848, the whole white population of california was fourteen thousand, january, 1849, the population of san francisco was two thousand. the three most prominent publicmen at the time of my arrival in california were colonel freemont, who had conducted an expedition overland; colonel stevenson, who came by sea with one thousand men, appointed by william l. marcy, who was secretary of war during the conflict with mexico, from whom i had a letter of introduction as a family connection of governor marcy, similar to the following letter to brigadier major-general p.f. smith, which was not delivered: albany, _june_ 24, 1849. my dear sir--i desire to present to your favorable notice, the bearer hereof, dr. daniel knower. he is on the eve of departing for california. he is a family connection of mine, a gentleman of talents and respectability, and i commend him to your favorable notice. yours truly, william l. marcy. brig.-gen. p.f. smith. i soon found the colonel one of the warmest of friends. captain john a. sutter, who was a captain in the swiss guards of charles the tenth of france, after the revolution of 1830 in that country, came to the united states, who some years previous had wandered across the country to oregon, and the russian fur company secured for him a large grant of land from mexico in california, on which the city of sacramento now stands, extending back from that city many miles to where the gold was first discovered. he was having a raceway dug on the american river for the purpose of erecting a saw-mill, as there was no lumber in the country. he had constructed a fort some miles back from the sacramento river, where he made his home. the object of the russian fur company was to have a place where they could purchase grain, as there was none raised there at that time, and they had a contract with him, and that they were to send a vessel at such a time, and he was to settle up the country and cultivate it. sutter was the most social and generous of men. the latch-string of his cabin was always on the outside, and all callers were welcome, and the hospitalities of the fort extended to all callers. at the time of my arrival, on august 18, 1849, there were several hundreds of ships anchored in the bay deserted by their crews, who had gone to the mines. they could make more in one day there than their wages would amount to in a month on the vessel. in the city a large portion of its population were living in tents. there were not buildings enough. vessels were constantly arriving loaded with people from all parts of the world. as my health permitted i investigated matters there. i took a walk out. i met what looked like a laboring man. i asked him how long he had been there? he said two months. i said to him: "and not gone up to the mines yet?" he said to me he was in no particular hurry. he said he had a row-boat and made $20 a day rowing passengers to and from the vessels (there was then no dock). he had his boy with him, who gathered mussels and sold them. between the two they averaged $30 per day, which explained why he was in no hurry to go to the gold diggings. lumber was bringing fabulous prices. it looked very favorable for my house ventures. mr. g., the englishman, had been very anxious to buy them. he had seen the specifications of the carpenter on the steamer coming up. on saturday p.m. i called at his office. he asked me if i had made up my mind to sell him the houses. i said to him: "if i should put a price on them you would not take me up." he said "try me." i named a price. he said he would take them and go to my lawyer to draw up the contract. i said i would just as soon go to his (which was a fatal mistake). i knew his was a state senator from florida, and had come up on the steamer with us. we found the lawyer in his office, and he commenced drawing up the contract. i made my statement that i sold the houses from my carpenter's specifications (not from any representations i made myself), and from the bills of lading and from my insurance policy, which ranked the ship _prince de joinville_, formerly a havre packet, classed a, no. 1. he was to deposit bills of lading of the ship _st. george_ from liverpool, consigned to him, in value to the amount of $50,000, with a third party, as collateral security, that on the arrival of the _prince de joinville,_ and the delivery of the houses, he was to pay me the sum agreed upon. the lawyer, after writing a little, complained of a headache, and asked if it made any difference if he put it off until monday morning. i said, mr. g. had been very anxious to buy the houses, and i had not cared about selling them to arrive, preferring to take my chances when the vessel got here, but since i had consented to sell them, i preferred to have it on the solid. i said, i supposed the transaction was not of great importance to mr. g., but i had all that i was worth in the world at stake on the venture, and would prefer to have it closed now. he commenced writing, and again complained of the headache. i then consented to put it off until monday morning at 10 o'clock. we both pledged our honor to meet there at that time and consummate it. i was there on monday morning at the time designated. mr. g. came in at 11 o'clock and said he had changed his mind and would not take the houses. i said all right, but his word of pledge of honor would have no value with me hereafter. i would have made $18,000 profit, but i was selling them for a good deal less than they would have brought if they had been there. lumber was selling as high as from three to four hundred dollars per thousand feet in san francisco at that time. but i was making certain of a good profit and running no risk of what might happen in the future. i had another offer of a number of lots on stockton street, the next street above the plaza in the heart of the city, for six of the smaller ones, which, if i had consummated, would have made my fortune. "there is a tide in the affairs of men, which, if taken at the flood tide, leads on to fortune, or, if not seized, are forever lost." (shakespeare.) the ideas of the people there at that time was, that a railroad across the continent, connecting california with the east, was entirely impracticable. that there were one thousand miles of desert to cross, where there was no water, and the sierra nevada mountains presented an impassable barrier, and they thought how could it ever be an agricultural country, when there was no rain for more than seven months in the year. the idea of irrigation was not thought of then. how different every thing has turned out since, i have nothing to do with. i must be true to my subject, the days of the forty-niners. as it would be, at least, three months before the ship could come in with my houses, and my health had improved, i was anxious to get up to the mines. i was informed that there was a party from albany at the dutch bar, on the south fork of the american river, about eight miles from coloma, where gold was first discovered, with whom i was acquainted. i found a sloop about to sail for sacramento (there were no steamers then) the starting point to the northern mine. i took passage on board with all the passengers the boat could accommodate. i noticed on the passage up that the mosquitoes were very large, with penetrating bills. it was as much as we could do to protect our faces. the only important event on the passage was that a jew had potatoes that he was taking up on speculation, and that he was going to treat his fellow passengers to some, one day at dinner. we were a little disappointed when we found they were sweet ones, but still they were a treat. vegetables were scarce, potatoes selling from forty to sixty cents per pound. after a few days we arrived at sacramento, it being about one hundred miles from san francisco by water. there were no hacks at the landing, nobody that wanted a job to carry your baggage. governor shannon, of ohio, was among the passengers. he had been minister to mexico, yet he had to carry his own baggage, and make several trips to do it. one of the passengers assisted him. he was president of a mining company organized in ohio. it was evening. we stopped at a hotel, and i slept in my mackinaw blanket that i carried with me, on the dining-room floor. the next morning after breakfast, about 9 o'clock, i went out on the front portico to take observations of the place. the landlord was there. there was a loaferish-looking fellow going by on the opposite side of the street. the landlord cries out to him: "bill, what will you charge to chop wood for me from now until night?" he cries back, "what will you give?" he replies, "$10." bill answers back, "can't chop for less than an ounce," which was $16, and walked right on. it was evident that common labor was not suffering there for want of employment. i was there some days, and could find no one to post me how to get to coloma. all was excitement and bustle. while there, sam. brannan--who had built a new hotel there (just finished), called the city hotel--gave a free entertainment for one day to the public. he must have expended $1,000 for refreshments. he had been a mormon preacher, and was a captain in colonel stevenson's regiment. he was very enterprising and generous, a prominent figure with the "forty-niners." i saw an article in the paper a few years ago from a california correspondent, giving a biography of him; that he was, at one time, worth several millions, and went into some big enterprise--which i cannot now recall--and was unfortunate and lost all his wealth, and that he was, at that time, in san francisco at a twenty-five-cent lodging-house, and that he told him that he passed two men that day who had crossed the street to avoid him, to whom he had furnished the money from which they had made their fortunes. well, i finally found an oregon man with a yoke of oxen, who was freighting goods up to coloma. he said he had seven hundred and fifty acres of land in oregon, but no cattle on it. he thought he would come to california and get gold enough to buy them, and his wife was keeping a cake and pie stand on the streets of that city. i never saw him after that trip, but coming with so modest expectations, i have no doubt he was successful. we started on our journey in the afternoon. the country through which we traveled looked as if it had been an old-settled land, and deserted by its inhabitants. it seemed that we must come to a farm-house, but there was none. there were scattering trees in the country and occasionally a woods, but no dense forest. we made eight miles, then camped for the night on the edge of a woods. i had brought no provisions with me, so i offered him $1 per meal to eat with him, which was accepted. he made tea, cooked some indian meal, and had a jug of molasses; so we made a very good supper. i got my satchel out of the wagon for a pillow, and with my blankets made my bed on the ground under the wagon. i thought it would keep the dew off, but there was none. there is no danger of taking cold sleeping on the ground in the dry season, when it does not rain for seven months. he had set fire to a dead tree to keep the grizzly bears off, and about the time i got comfortably laid down, there was a pack of coyote wolves came howling around. amid those surroundings, the burning of the fire to keep the grizzlies off and howling of the wolves, i fell asleep and did not wake until morning, refreshed from my slumbers. after a breakfast similar to the meal the night before, we proceeded on our journey, but the ox team travelled so slow that in walking i got away ahead of it, and then got tired of waiting for it to come up to me, and so went on alone. toward night i came to mormon island, the first gold diggings. i inquired if there was a place where i could get quarters for the night. they said i might, at the hospital. it was a log cabin with bunks in it, and what was my astonishment to find the proprietor, a doctor from troy, n.y., an old acquaintance. i was more than welcome. we were both delighted to see each other. i to find such comfortable quarters, and he to meet with a friend in the wilderness, and to hear the latest news from the east. he got for me the best supper that the surroundings would afford; as i had eaten nothing since morning, it was very acceptable, and he provided for me the most comfortable of his bunks for sleeping. he informed me that it was twenty-five miles from coloma, and there was but one place on the way where i could get water to drink. i started after breakfast, refreshed. after travelling some miles, i came to the smoke of the camp-fire of indians, just ahead of me. it was rumored that the oregon men were in the habit of shooting an indian on sight when they had a chance. the indians killed white men in retaliation, as they could not make peace until they had killed as many whites as they had lost, according to their ideas of equity. as i did not care particularly about being one to make up the number, i struck off in a ravine and passed around so as to avoid their camping ground and came to the road beyond them. what truth there was about the shooting of them i could not say, but it was currently reported at the time. about 4 o'clock, p.m., i got to a stopping place six miles from coloma. there i met a man with a long beard, slouched hat, a sash around his body, a flannel shirt, evidently a miner. i had a long talk with him. he posted me about the gold diggings and i him about the news from the states. as we were about to part, he asked me to take a drink. he inquired of the proprietor if he had champagne? he said, yes, at $10 a bottle. the man said, pass us down a bottle, which we drank together. he, evidently, had struck good diggings. we parted, as i was anxious to get to coloma before dark, which i did, just as the sun was setting, having made twenty-five miles in one day on foot. i found a regular tavern here, kept by a man from mississippi, with his family. i sat down to a regular table for my supper, which seemed quite a treat. he informed me that he had no bed-room for me; that i could sleep on the dining-room floor, or in his barn. he had just had some new hay put in. i chose the latter. it was a kind of a shanty building, but the soft bed of new hay was a luxury after my twenty-five miles walk. i awoke the next morning refreshed. after my breakfast i took in the place and went to the raceway where the first piece of gold was discovered. there were three or four stores in the place to supply the miners of the surrounding region. i got my direction how to find the dutch bar, eight miles from there. proceeding on my way, after going about five miles, i came to a person, his face covered with a long beard, whom i recognized, by the expression of his eyes, as a person who i knew in albany, and who belonged to the party i was seeking. he informed me that i was within three miles of them, and he gave me plain directions how to find them. i soon came to their camp and there was a genial meeting and exchange of news. there were five in the company. they had a tent and owned a pair of mules. i joined them, as i had not come to depend on mining, as i never had been accustomed to physical labor. at first i thought it was awful hard work, and that it was lucky for me that i had not come to california depending on it, but after a short time i got used to it and liked it. they took turns in cooking, so each one had one day in the week that he did the cooking. we lived on fried pork and flapjacks made from wheat flour fried in the fat of the pork, tin cups for our tea and coffee, and tin dishes. we each had stone seats, and a big one in the center for our table. at night we slept under our tent. the gold rivers were not navigable. they were sunk way down deep in the earth. when the rainy season sets in during the winter months, and sometimes rains every day in the month, causing the snow to melt on the sierra nevada mountains, where these streams take their rise, will cause the water to rise often from ten to twenty feet in a night, and in the course of ages has worn their depth down into the earth, and is supposed to have washed out of the earth the scales of gold that are found on the banks of the rivers. the first mining was a very simple process. a party of three could work together to the best advantage. a virgin bar was where the river had once run over and now receded from it. three persons worked together, one to clear off the sand on the ground to within six inches of the hardpan. the top earth was not considered worth washing, the scales of gold, being heavier, had settled through it, but could not penetrate that portion of the earth called the hardpan, so the earth within six inches of it was impregnated with more or less gold, and one to carry the bucket to the rocker, and the other to run the rocker, which was located close to the water. the rocker was a trough about three feet in length with three slats in it and a sieve at the upper end, on which the bucket of earth was thrown. the man worked the rocker with one hand and dipped the water out of the river with a tin-handled dipper. as he worked the rocker the fine earth and scales of gold passed through the holes of the sieve and settled behind the slats in the trough, and the stones and large lumps in which there was no gold were caught in the sieve and thrown away. after a certain number of buckets of earth had been run through in that way, the settlings behind the slats in the trough were put in a milk-pan and the water was allowed to run in the pan and the fine earth and sand would float on the top of the water. you would let that run off. after a few operations of that kind you would see the yellow scales of gold on the edge of the sand. you would continue that process until there was but a little of the sand left; then you would take it with you when you went to the tank and warm it by a fire to dry the sand; then with your breath you would blow away the sand and have the gold, which you carried in a buckskin bag, which was the currency of the country, at $16 per ounce, and at the mint in philadelphia was worth $18.25. i have carried three hundred buckets in a day, and at twenty-five cents worth of gold in a bucket, it would amount to $75, $25 to each man for his day's work, which was frequently the average. in those days all it cost for a party of three for capital to start mining was about $15. then you had the chances of striking a pocket. that was a cavity in the rocks where gold had settled. in the course of ages, and where the strong currents of the streams, when the rivers were high, could not reach it to wash it out, i have known a person to take out $800 of gold in less than an hour. the first miners, when they found gold on the banks of the river, thought if they could only dig in the deep holes of the bed they would find chunks of it, and they went to a big expense, and those who had money hired laborers to assist in constructing raceways at $16 per day, to change the current of the river; but when they had effected their object and dug there they found no gold, for there was nothing to prevent the strong current from carrying it off; but i knew a party to draw off the water and expose the bed of the river, where there were rapids, and they were successful, and the gold had settled down between the crevices of the rocks, and the currents could not disturb it. there were some other kinds of diggings discovered different from the river mining, called cañons, one i know of, called the oregon. it was described like a tunnel, deep down in the earth, where a party of three persons from near our locality went and returned in about three weeks and had from three to five thousand dollars apiece, which they showed me. it was not scale gold, but nuggets of all sizes. of course, they had unusual luck. on the river mining each person was entitled to so many feet, as long as they left any implements of labor on it. no person would trespass upon it; but if he took every thing away, then it was inferred he had given it up, and anybody had a right to take it. all regulations were strictly respected and every thing was safe, and a person told me that he would not be afraid to leave his bag of gold in his tent. every thing was honorable and safe until the overland emigrants from western missouri arrived there. they were a different kind of people; more of the brute order. when they saw a party of two or three that had a good claim, and they were the strongest, they would dispossess them. (i suppose the same class that raided kansas in john brown's time.) they became so obnoxious that a respectable man would deny his state. and another corrupt element arrived by sea, the ex-convicts from sidney. i went to coloma one day to get supplies for the party. i rode one of the mules, the other followed to be packed with the purchases. when i bought what was wanted, i handed the storekeeper my bag of gold to pay him. when he returned it to me, i found his statement made was between three and four dollars less than i knew was in it. i informed him of the discrepancy. he said he did not see how that could be; that he weighed it right. he came in in a few minutes and apologized, saying that he had weighed it in the scales that he used when he traded with the indians. it needs no comment to know that the christian man is not always superior to the indian in integrity. there was an indian who had struck a pocket. he came to coloma with $800 in gold dust that he got out in a short time. he invested it all with the storekeepers in a few hours. he had dressed himself in the height of fashion, including a gold watch. he was dressed as no california indian ever had been before. the gold he could not eat nor drink. [illustration: dressed as no california indian ever was before.] how the gold came there is one of the mysteries of nature. one theory is, that the sierra nevada mountains were once the banks of the pacific ocean, and all california had been thrown up from the bottom of the sea from that depth where gold was a part of the formation of the earth, in connection with quartz, and as all gold appears in a molten state, which would go to corroborate this theory. a person informed me that he went through a ravine where one side of the road was half of a large rock, and on the other side, the other half. he could see where the two halves would match each other exactly. well, i lived that life for two months. we had an addition to what i have described to eat--pork and beans on sunday, and chili pudding. it had been baked and sweetened, and then ground up like flour and put in bags. all you had to do was to moisten it with water to eat it. all our flour came from that country, put up in sacks of fifty and one hundred pounds each, but we had no vegetables. one day we heard that they had dried-apple sauce at the hotel at coloma for dinner. the next day, sunday, three of us walked eight miles to get there to dinner to get a taste of it. we paid $2 apiece for our dinner, and they had the sauce; it tasted so good that we did not begrudge the price of the dinner and the walk back again. we were fully satisfied. the rainy season set in. it rained three days, and although it was three or four weeks before it would be possible for my houses to arrive, yet it was a new country and no bridges. the streams might get up so as to be impassable, and the houses were consigned to me, and no one but myself to receive them. i thought i had better get back to san francisco at once. what i was making in the mines was mere nothing to what i had at stake in the houses. although, to tell the truth, i never left a place with more regret, as hard as the fare was. we were interested every day in the work for gold, and did not know when we might make a rich strike. my last day there it rained. notwithstanding, a companion and myself went out to dig for a couple of hours. when we returned, we had $25 worth. that was the last of my mining. i started the next morning for sacramento afoot. i sold my pistol and blankets for an ounce each, $16 apiece. on my route i met a man bound for the same place. we joined teams and became very intimate. the only incident of importance was when we got within five miles of sacramento. we stopped at a log cabin and ordered dinner. a short time after my companion came to me in some excitement and said he had looked through the window and that they were cooking potatoes for dinner. i could not believe the good news, and so went and looked for myself and found it was true. i had not tasted one in two months. we took the steamer _senator_ that evening for san francisco. it had been a long island steamboat and had arrived since my departure for the mines. it was the first steamer that had ever sailed the interior waters of california, and had been put on to run from san francisco to sacramento. i think it belonged to grenell, minton & co., a prominent shipping firm of new york city. charley minton had charge of it. of course its profits were great. but i could not sleep in my state-room berth; i had been so long used to a hard bed i was restless, but we arrived safe the next morning at san francisco. the bulk of my book will be events that occurred during my residence in that city. i scarcely know how to begin to describe it. my efforts will be to portray them truthfully. to do so i must continue in the form of a personal narrative. that is the only way i can recall the events to my mind of so long ago. at this time more changes took place there in a month than in most any other place in a year. every thing was done by the month. buildings were rented by the month; money was loaned by the month; ten per cent per month was the regular interest. there was but one bank, called the miners', on the corner of the plaza, owned by three parties. during my absence a great boom had taken place--influenced by new arrivals and most favorable news from the gold mining sections. this was the fall of 1849. the lots that i had thought of trading six of my houses for had tripled in value, but lumber was still bringing fabulous prices and every thing looked favorable for a big strike on my houses when they arrived. montgomery street was on the banks of the bay. there was one pier at this time constructed from it in the bay, and a temporary pier by colonel stevenson at the north beach. the city was growing up toward happy valley. portsmouth square, the plaza, still had some of the adobe buildings on it. the best hotel was the parker house, on the west corner of it. the plaza was sand, no vegetation on it. rincon point, on telegraph hill, was the spot where ships and steamers were signalled. steamers coming in but once a month, they brought the last news from the east. the new york papers were peddled at $1 each. long lines of people were formed to get the mail, and you had to take sometimes half a day before you could reach the office. oakland, opposite the bay, had no existence. goat island had plenty of wild goats on it, and we could never imagine how the first goat ever got there. there was no scarcity of meat--plenty of beef and grizzly bears were hung out at the doors of the restaurants as a sign, and plenty of venison. i can recall now to my mind, venison steaks that we would get in the evening with their rich jellies on it. the luxuries of asia were coming in there. many china restaurants with their signs from canton or pekin. but there was a great scarcity of vegetables. onions and potatoes sold for forty cents per pound. a day or two after my arrival, my friend who came down with me from the mines came to me and said that there were a lot of blankets to be sold at auction; that he had no money, or he would buy them; that if i would buy them he would take them up in the mines and peddle them out for me for half of the profit. as i knew they were in great demand there--i had sold, when i left there, mine for $16--i told him if he could buy them for $4 per pair to bid them off and i would furnish the money to pay for them. he came back in a short time and said he had bought them, and that they came to $800. we had them taken to the steamer _senator_ to ship to sacramento. we paid $10 a load to have them carted from the store where they were bought to the steamer. (the result of this speculation later on.) there were at this time several hundred vessels anchored in the bay, deserted by their officers and crews. a ship could be bought for probably one-third of what it was worth in new york, and i conceived the project of buying a ship as soon as i sold my houses, which i expected soon to arrive, being on so fast a ship as the _prince de joinville_, and going myself to the sandwich islands and buying a load of onions and potatoes, as i was informed that they could be bought as cheap there as in the states, and ciphered out that one successful venture of that kind would make my fortune. so i went among the idle ships to see what i could do in that line, and to have one selected, ready to close the bargain as soon as the houses arrived. i came across a brig that had been running to sacramento, but was condemned as a foreign bottom, when collier, the collector, arrived there, a short time before, and extended the marine laws of the united states over california. the captain and crew were aboard. the captain was an englishman; the crew, cosmopolitan--a hindostan, a mexican named edwin jesus, an english sailor and an american. i inquired of the captain about the history of the vessel. he said she had been built at quavqiel, down the coast, and had belonged to a mexican general, and was built partially of an american whaler that had been wrecked on the coast, so i got american timbers in her. they wanted to sell the vessel. i told him i might buy her. i would let them know in a day or two. so i went to colonel stevenson and gave him a history of it, and asked him if he would see collier, the collector of the port, and see if i could not get her papers as an american vessel, which he did, and informed me the next day that it was all right. i went at once and bought the brig. as soon as i got its american papers it was worth twice what i had to pay for it. i kept the same captain, as he knew the navigation of the rivers, which few did at that time. i gave him $250 per month and put a supercargo at $150 per month, and kept the same crew. i had it put up for stockton, the head depot for the southern lines. the first month it made two trips. its receipts were $3,100; its expenses, $1,100; so it earned me $2,000 clear. there was a friend of mine named r., who owned a third interest in a factory that belonged to a relative of mine who got the gold fever when i did, and got me to negotiate the sale of his interest in it to him, which i did for $8,000, so he could go to california with me. when he arrived there he proposed to build a brewery. his father had been a brewer in scotland. he bought a lot, a part of the city called happy valley, and started to build the first brewery on the pacific coast. he commenced to build one that would cost $30,000 with that capital, which was his mistake. if he had commenced in a small way he would have made his fortune. (in my personal narrative he had much to do with my affairs.) at this point in writing my manuscript, i have just heard of the death of colonel jonathan stevenson, aged ninety-four, in california, to whom i had a letter of introduction from governor william l. marcy. i found him the warmest, the truest and most generous friend. he was a little unpopular when i first met him, for what i conceived the most noble action of his life. there were in his regiment roughs from the city of new york, where it was organized, who, when the war was over with mexico, would go into saloons and places and help them selves to what they wanted and refused to pay. they were termed "the hounds." there was a vigilance committee organized against them, which public sentiment, at that time, fully indorsed. they had seized a number of them and were about to hang them. colonel stevenson faced the excited crowd and asked to have them give the men a trial and punish the guilty. he said that when he returned to new york and their mothers asked him what had become of their sons, how could he face them if they were put to death in that way; but if he could say to them that they had a fair trial, were found guilty of crime, and had been punished according to law, it would be different. i think they were not executed, but banished; but it set up a cry against the colonel that he had taken the part of "the hounds," so unjust is often, for a time, public sentiment. that was the first vigilance committee; the great one came afterward, but i am confined to the days of the "forty-niners." it was rumored, at the time, that there was a jealousy between him and colonel freemont. it was not on the part of stevenson. i boarded at the same hotel with freemont. see illustration for bill which i received while at the hotel with colonel freemont: [illustration: hotel bill.] the colonel asked me one day to speak to freemont at dinner, and request him, if convenient, to stop in his office as he came from dinner, which i did. stevenson's office was on the plaza, but freemont never called. there was great difficulty about the title to lots at that time. there were contentions set up, and claims of property from different mexican grants, as it became valuable. it was guaranteed by the united states, at the treaty of hidalgo, when california was ceded to us, that all titles that were good under the mexican government should be recognized by us. l., the chaplain of stevenson's regiment, seems to have been the butt of the boys before the gold was discovered. they, as a farce, elected him alcalde of san francisco, which position is a combination of mayor and judge, as we would understand it, and his election was declared illegal. then they elected him for spite. he served one year. there was a mexican law that in any village in that country a person had a right to settle on one hundred veras of land so many feet, about three hundred, and if he put up any kind of a building on it, and held undisputed possession for one year, he could go to the alcalde, and by paying $16, get a good and valid title. when the lots became so valuable in san francisco, after the gold was discovered, many lots based on those kinds of grants became very valuable two or three years after the discovery of gold. l. became quite wealthy, it was said, by advances in real estate. there were rumors of bogus titles in the names of dead soldiers and others who had left the country, but could be traced to no authentic source. he was estimated to be worth several hundred thousand dollars, made in the rise of real estate. i met him but once and i sold him some lumber. my shipping merchant who negotiated freight for my brig got a legal title of that kind. his story. he said he was a book-keeper for a firm in newport, rhode island, at a small salary. he made up his mind that if they would not raise his pay $100 per year on the 1st of january he would leave them. they refused, so he lost his situation, and it was dull times, and he could not get another one, so he shipped on a whaling vessel as a sailor. his health was poor, and he found he could not stand the hardships of that life. the vessel put in the harbor of san francisco for water and fresh meat on their way to the arctic ocean, so he deserted the ship and secreted himself until it left. then he had to do something there for a living, so he squatted on one hundred veras of land on the beach, and put up a shanty and sold fruit and probably some liquor, etc., to make a living. no one disturbed him for one year. he applied to the alcalde and paid his $16 and got a good, valid title. after the gold was discovered it became the most valuable property in the city. when i was doing business with him he had a three-story brick store, which he owned. the whaling ship had been gone to the arctic ocean two or three years and had heard nothing of the discovery of the gold, and wonderful changes in san francisco, and the captain thought he would put in that port on his return and hunt up his runaway sailor, and behold, his absconding sailor was rich enough when he found him to buy his ship and his whole cargo of whale oil. i was introduced by him to his captain and shook hands with him, and we had a good talk over it. wherein does our stories of fiction, of our boyhood, of arabian nights, surpass the actual events of life, of the wonderful fluctuations of fortunes in california in the days of the forty-niners? [illustration: the captain and the runaway sailor.] on the death of president taylor, a meeting was called for the purpose of having funeral obsequies there in his honor. a man was named for president of the day. then it was proposed to name a vice-president for each state and territory, which was done. there were persons in the crowd from every one of them. a day was set apart for the ceremonies, and all business was to be suspended. there was a long procession on that day, and the masons and all societies and the people in general turned out in full force, including the chinese, who were smart enough to think it would make a favorable impression in their favor. after the parade was dismissed in the plaza, the chinese were requested to remain, and a missionary addressed them, and a chinaman interpreted to them in their own language. i noticed that their language was much more condensed than ours. it took about a third of the time for him to translate what the missionary said. when the missionary closed, he said he hoped that we would all meet together in another and a better world. it seemed to them so absurd that they looked at each other and smiled as if it was a good joke. in those early days there were no particular prejudices against them. pagans, as we call them, practised the christian virtues toward their own countrymen. when the ship arrived from china they were down to greet the newcomers, whom they had never seen before, and invite them to their homes. the present laws of restriction against them, i think, are all right. we cannot afford to run the risk of having the institutions of our country injured by an emigration that is uncongenial to it. we have gone too far in that line already, not from selfishness, but to perpetuate the institutions founded by our revolutionary ancestors, in their purity, for the interests of mankind. i received a letter from my blanket friend. he informed me that he could not sell the blankets, and had traded them off for flour, and would start the next day for the yuba, which was the most remote gold river. that was all a lie. he did that so that i would not follow him up. he had not a dollar invested in them. they were my property. i knew at once i had been dealing with a rascal, but i was powerless to do any thing about it, so i wrote him back that it was all right; that i had bought a brig; and that i had it running to stockton, and he could take ventures up on that and make up what we had lost on the blankets, and much more. (more of him later on.) the gambling of that day. it was public most everywhere. faro tables, the great american gambling game, monte, the mexican and roulette. the eldorado, on the corner of the plaza, was the most celebrated gambling house of that time. there had been a great deal of money expended in fitting it up. it had an orchestra of fifteen persons. it was run all night and day, with two sets of hands. it was gorgeously fitted up. what they used to stir up the sugar in the drinks cost $300. it was solid gold. numerous gambling tables, piled up with gold and silver, to tempt the better, behind which were hired dealers. the owners of the eldorado were not known. many a miner has come with his few thousand dollars to san francisco to sail for home, and taking in the sights, visited the eldorado, got interested in the different games, and lost it all and went back to the gold regions broken and penniless to try his luck over again. i heard of one that lost his all three times in that way. i saw a man once put down a bag of gold, which contained $5,000, bet $1,000 on one turn of the card at monte. he lost. while i was looking at him in the course of half an hour, he lost it all. i thought what independence that amount would have given some family in the east. in those early days there was often but a muslin partition between you and the next room, and you could hear every word in the next apartment. about 1 o'clock in the morning i was awaken by two men entering and taking the next room to mine, whom i saw running a roulette table on the plaza. they seemed to be considerably excited. they said they would be willing to lose some money to get rid of that tapper. of course, i could not understand, at first, what they meant by that expression, but come to find out from their conversation, they had their roulette table arranged so that they could make the ball stop on the red or black, as it happened to be for their interest to have it do. so, if there were $20 bet upon the red, the tapper would bet $10 on the black, and they could not make the red lose without making the black win. so the tapper was getting half of their gains. i would advise all my friends to let roulette alone, unless they are sure they can place themselves in the position of the tapper. one morning on the plaza i took a look into a gambling saloon. i saw a greaser that had been betting against monte all night, and had had wonderful luck. he announced that he would tap the bank for $1,800, which was more money than he ever had before, or could ever expect to have again, which meant that he would bet that amount for whatever sum the dealer could show to meet it on the turn of one card. he lost, and the dealer showed $1,800 in the bank and took all his money. monte is the great national gambling game of mexico, and his idea of paradise is to be able to break a monte bank. mr. b. from kentucky, whom i took for so rich a nabob, referred to among the passengers when out of new york. i saw him take out his gold watch, a valuable one, and bet it behind the queen, on the game of faro, for $100. he was evidently about broke. it won. then he went the $200, and it won again. then he went it the third time, and it won. in about twenty minutes he had his watch back and $700, then he left. some one asked me a few months after that if i knew that he was worth $80,000? he had been very lucky, and that he was to run for sheriff of san francisco county on the democratic ticket, and that the whigs had nominated jack hayes, the celebrated texan ranger. hayes had been in the mexican war. it was told of him that when the american and mexican armies were encamped opposite each other, that a mexican officer, splendidly equipped, came forward on horseback, and challenged any american to meet him in single combat between the two forces. jack hayes volunteered to go, and he killed him. he took his horse, gold watch and personal effects. he afterward learned who he was, and that he left a widow. he sent all his personal effects to her as a present. of course, we were interested warmly on his side, and he was elected. they say colonel b. spent all his $80,000 on his side and was defeated. no reputable citizen of san francisco or business man would allow himself to be seen betting at any of the public gambling tables. he would feel that he was losing character. i am trying to portray the scenes of those days exactly as they occurred, and if i left the gambling scenes out it would not be a true history. at first public offices went a begging; nobody wanted them. fine clothes were at a discount. he was looked upon as a tender-foot who knew nothing about the gold regions. but a flannel-shirted, roughly-dressed miner was the lion. he could tell something about the gold regions. the governor appointed a loafer fellow, in the early days, port warden. nobody wanted it, and he was indorsed by one firm. as the city grew very rapidly the office soon became valuable. somebody told the governor what kind of a man he had appointed port warden, and the governor wrote him a letter requesting him to resign, stating to him what representations had been made to him about his character, which, if he had known, he would not have appointed him. he wrote back to the governor refusing to resign, saying to him, he had better read the papers and look after his own character. the governor was up for re-election and the opposition papers were pitching into him. the grizzly bears. one warm afternoon my friend me and myself thought we would take a walk over to pesedeo; that was about three miles to the pacific ocean. the seal rocks is where the sea lions or seals can always be seen. it was the entrance to the golden gates, where the roar of the pacific ocean is twice that of the atlantic, it being six thousand miles broad, twice that of the atlantic. on our way we stopped into a tent to get a drink of water. we found it occupied by three miners, one of whom was quite lame. i inquired of him what was the matter. he said his hip had been dislocated by the grizzlies. i asked him how it happened. he said they went up to the trinity river to dig for gold. i knew that was the most remote gold river. he said they were lucky and found rich diggings, but after awhile their provisions gave out and they could not procure any unless they returned to the settlements. on their way, returning on horseback, they came to three grizzly bears grazing in a field. it was very dangerous to attack them, but they were very hungry. they thought if they could kill one of them it would supply them with meat, so they finally decided they would take their chances and fire on them, which they did, and wounded one. the other two took after the man whose hip was dislocated. he fled and came to a buckeye tree, the body of which slants, and he got up in it, the bears came on under it. after awhile they found they could not reach him. it being a low tree one of them commenced climbing it after him. he thought his last hour had come; all the events of his life seemed to rush on his mind, and a picture of the old-fashioned spelling book, where the man plays dead on the bear, came before him, which i distinctly recollected. he thought his only chance was to drop from the tree and hold his breath, and play dead on the bear, which he did, and fell on his face. one bear grabbed him by the shoulders and the other by the ankle, and in pulling, dislocated his hip. he had a thick overcoat on which they tore to pieces. he held his breath. after awhile they went off and left him. after a little while he raised his head to see if they were gone, and they came trotting back and smelt him all over again, and went away again, he holding his breath. then he laid a long time, fearing to move, and his companions came up "each fainter trace that memory holds so darkly of departed years, in one broad glance, the soul beholds, and all that was at once appears" in the cases of imminent danger such is said to be the case. it is evident that is what saved this man's life. truth is stranger than fiction. [illustration: pursued by the grizzlies.] the state seal of california is minerva, with a spear and shield and the grizzly bear at her feet. before the discovery of gold they were quite numerous. they roamed in full possession, apparently, of the country--no one to molest them or make them afraid. it was a very formidable animal, weighing from seven to eight hundred pounds. when the rainy season set in, late in the fall, and the winter months, during which the grass commenced to grow, he fed on it in the valleys and fields, and became fat and powerful. in the spring, when the dry season set in and no rain for seven months, and fields dried up with a dusty brown, he fled to the tops of the mountains to browse on the leaves of the trees to support life until the next rainy season commenced. it is said he is not a ferocious animal if unmolested, and will not attack you if you let him alone, unless it is a she bear with cubs, or you shoot at them and wound them. they are very hard to kill. to be hit by a bullet has very little effect on them, unless hit in a vital spot. an acquaintance of mine was walking on a road in the interior and saw a big grizzly coming down the road in the opposite direction toward him. he knew it would not do to undertake to run. he had been posted on their natures, so he kept walking right on, as if he was undisturbed and had no fear, the bear coming nearer to him all the time, with his gait unchanged, or he his, until they passed each other, he looking the grizzly in the eye and treating each other with due respect and consideration as friends. as an illustration of their strength, an old californian informed me that he knew of an instance where a grizzly came into a pack of live mules and took one off and carried it to his den and ate it. in corroboration of that fact, another man informed me that he saw a bear chasing a mule and fired on the bear and hit him, and the bear turned toward him, and the mule escaped. [illustration: the miner and the grizzly.] there was a mr. w., who opened a fashionable hotel on the east side of the plaza. i was invited to be one of a party of twenty to give a complimentary dinner to a friend, who was about to return east. the bill was just $400, which was $20 apiece, the most i ever paid for a california dinner. the landlord became quite popular and was thought to be a very responsible person. a great many persons from the long voyages around cape horn arrived, sick with the scurvy, owing to want of vegetables at sea, most of whose systems underwent a change to become acclimated to the country; some seriously and others more mildly. it was thought it would be a good thing to do to erect a hospital for the benefit of the public and those arriving sick. there was $30,000 raised at the first meeting called, and mr. w., the landlord, was elected treasurer. [illustration: the man who escaped from the sandwich islands.] one night he got betting against the game of faro, lost, and i suppose got over excited, and in trying to recover his losses, lost every thing, including $30,000. of course it was not known that he ever gambled or he would not have been trusted with the money. as soon as it was known it created great excitement and indignation, that so sacred a fund should have been wasted in that way. he fled, and the mayor offered $3,000 reward for his apprehension. it seems he had escaped on a vessel to the sandwich islands, and had no money, and got in debt there and could not leave there as long as he owed any thing, according to their laws, and he was in despair, until one day fortune smiled upon him. accidentally he came across a california paper in which was the $3,000 reward offered by the mayor of san francisco for his arrest, and this was his opportunity and he seized it at once. then hope dawned upon him. he found a vessel about to sail for san francisco. he took the paper and showed it to the captain and told him if he would advance the money so he could pay his debts, he would return with him to san francisco and he could surrender him and they would divide the reward. the captain accepted his offer and delivered him up upon his arrival at san francisco, and got the reward. two or three months had elapsed since his departure, and that was more time than so many years in any other country, and all excitement about it had subsided, and i think it was called a breach of trust, and i have no recollection that he was punished in any other way. my blanket man. when he wrote me that he had traded the blankets for flour, and had gone to the yuba river with the flour, i knew that it was a lie, and that he was a rascal, and i found that blankets had been in great demand, at a high price, and likewise learned that he had been connected with a forgery in new york city, but that his brother was a respectable merchant there, so for the time i gave up my $800 as lost. what was my surprise after six weeks at my hotel (which was an expensive one), to see my man at the tea table. i greeted him most cordially and asked no questions about the blankets, but talked to him about the brig i owned and had running to stockton; that i had been looking for him to come back; there was such a splendid chance for us to make purchases in san francisco, and for him to take them up on my vessel and sell them out in the southern gold mines, near that place; that what we had lost on the blankets we could more than make up on the first venture, and that there would be big money in that kind of a speculation. we spent the evening together most cordially. the next morning i detained him in conversation until about the time for the miners' bank to open, then we went out together. when we got opposite the bank i took out my watch and said to him, that i did not think it was so late. i said i had a note of $800 due there that morning; i asked him if he had the gold dust about him to that amount. he said yes. i said let me have it and i will take up my note. he said there was no place to weigh it. i said yes, here there was a place where i was acquainted. it was weighed and handed to me. i told him i would see him at dinner, which i did. i then opened on him, and told him how despicably he had acted when i so generously trusted to his honor. he made no reply; he virtually admitted the truth of my statement. i never saw him afterward. that was the only time i ever played the confidence game in my life, and my conscience has approved of it ever since. my friend, mr. r., had got his brewery well under way in happy valley, as they called that part of the city, had used up his $8,000 and commenced borrowing money on my indorsement, at ten per cent a month, the regular interest at that time. he had a friend, lieutenant s., who resigned from the regular army, a graduate from west point, who had been up in the country, and came back with a flaming account of a place on the toulama river, which empties into the san joaquin, which was the head of navigation on that river, and was the place to start a town, and if we would furnish him with $1,500 to do it with, we would each own a third of it. i did not take to it, but mr. r. was so earnest about it, and had such confidence in his friend, that i finally let him have the money. there was quite a spirit of speculation of that kind at that time. colonel stevenson had laid out one on suisan bay, at the mouth of the san joaquin river, named new york of the pacific. marysville, on the sacramento river, was laid out a short time previous, and proved a great success, making the fortunes of the projectors. of course, a few were successful, and many failed. it seemed to have been a legitimate thing to do to make a fortune in a new country. i became acquainted with broderick. it was koyler & broderick. they had an office in the same building with colonel stevenson. broderick, who was afterward united states senator from california, and i became very intimate. he was not intellectually a very brilliant man, but a solid, able and strictly honest man, and a thoroughly posted politician of his day. he had run as a democratic candidate for congress from the city of new york, but was not elected. in california he was first elected to the state senate from the city. it was he who conceived the project of laying out the water lots on the bay, and got the bill through the legislature. he advised me to buy one or more. i looked at where he suggested to me to buy, and found them six feet under water. although they could be bought very cheap then, their prospective value seemed so remote to me i thought they were not worth the trouble of bothering with. it shows how easy it is to be mistaken in apprehending the future. i understand they are now the most valuable part of the city. the man in his tent. the man in his tent, who had squatted on rincon point, an elevated locality, that commanded a grand view of the bay, informed me that when he squatted there with his tent, that he could find no person who claimed the land. he had been there but a few days, when some parties came to him and offered to give him so much a month for the privilege of putting up their tent near his. he said he had no objections. they paid him. then other parties who wanted to put up their tents were referred to him. from these various persons he was getting a very liberal income. he informed me that as long as it lasted, he was in no hurry to go to the mines. the clipper ships. about this time was the first appearance of the celebrated clipper ships. they anchored off of happy valley and attracted great attention; they could make the trip around cape horn from new york to san francisco in three or four months; they run wet; their bows were very sharp, and, in a rough sea, instead of mounting the waves, they cut them, and the bows ran under water, and their progress was not impeded by the waves, saving two or three months' time, which was of great consideration then. there was no railroad across the isthmus then, and there was no other way of transporting freight between the cities of new york and san francisco except around cape horn. they had great fame then. england conceded their superiority over all other sailing vessels for speed; but they have passed away, the railroad reducing the time to from five to eight days; of course, there is a great difference between that and three or four months. the days of sailing vessels, however great their speed, to a great extent, is gone. besides, there are regular lines of steamers to most every port of the world, and the ocean is covered with tramp steamers. that winter a convention was called to organize a state government and apply for admission to the union. the southern element there wanted to make it a slave state. the northerners, including both whigs and democrats, wanted it free. they did not want to be brought in competition with slave labor in the mines, and have their occupation degraded in that way. their pride, as well as interest, was at stake, and there was great feeling on the subject. meetings were called all through the mines and addresses made and candidates nominated. the average of intelligence there was away above any other part of the country. for they were men of enterprise, or they would not have been there in that early day. at mormon island, one of the miners got up and made a speech. he so impressed them with his ability that they unanimously nominated him as their candidate to the constitutional convention. he was an old acquaintance of mine. in 1847 or 1848 he was a democratic member of the legislature of the state of new york, from washington county, and was chosen by that body to deliver the oration on washington's birthday. his name was george washington sherwood. he was elected to the constitutional convention of california, and wrote its first constitution, copied after that of his native state, new york. the northern element prevailed in that convention, and california came in a free state by its unanimous vote. broderick headed the northern sentiment; gwin, who had been a united states marshal in mississippi, the southern. i met him often. he would come into a bar-room and say: "i did not come here to dig gold, but to represent you in the united states senate." he would then say: "come up all, and take a drink." i thought that was a strange way to inspire the people with the idea that he was the proper person to represent them in the united states senate. he was elected, with colonel freemont, the first two united states senators from california. at the next election for united states senators, broderick got absolute control, and although gwin had fought him bitterly, they were the two senators to be elected again. broderick had the magnanimity to induce his friends to go for gwin and had him elected with him, and gwin showed his ingratitude by going at once to washington and securing from buchanan the control of all the appointments of the government in the state of california. so when broderick came there, there were none to give his friends. gwin was afterward very prominent in the rebellion. he went out in a boat in charleston harbor, crying out from it his advice to major anderson, advising him to surrender at the time of the attack on fort sumter. (this is a matter of history that occurred after the time of which i am writing.) a bull fight. there were bills posted about the city that three of the most celebrated fighters of mexico would have an exhibition in the evening, and combat with animals. as my friend and myself never had seen one we thought we would go. it was an amphitheatre, with circular seats about the pit, with thick planks around it, the seats commencing about twenty feet from the bottom of the pit. there was a door at the side of the pit, which was raised by pulleys, which admitted the bull. they were wild ones. our seat was about the fifth row back. the house was crowded and brilliantly illuminated. then the bull-fighters were in the pit, one on horseback, two on foot, gorgeously and brilliantly dressed, with swords, the blades pointed like spears, with red flags in their hands to attract the bull. the door was raised and the animal came rushing in; he was a terrible one to look at. blinded by the lights and the scene, he rushed and roared around the arena; i trembled in my seat, although i was in no possible danger. the first feat of the bull-fighters was to plant a rosette on the shoulders of the animal with a barb implanted in his flesh, which enraged him more, with colored ribbons, two or three feet in length, attached to the rosette, which was flying in the air as he went around, indicating to the audience the success of the feat. then the same feat was performed on the other shoulder. then when the bull attacked the man again, a rosette was implanted between his horns, and the man escaped, which was the most difficult of all. they had red flags in one hand to enrage and blind him, but this bull, he became so furious and enraged that they could not master him. he rushed upon the man on horseback, threw the horse and rider, and, with his horns, tore the entrails out of the horse and killed it. the man was wounded, but escaped. the rest of the fighters fled, and one climbed up the side of the paling and came within two inches of being impaled alive against the side by the bull's horns. as i write i can, in imagination, hear the sound of the animal's horns as they struck the boards in missing the man. the bull was master of the situation; he had cleared the ring. it was a terrible sight as he roared around in his fury. then the most startling event of all occurred. it seems incredible, but it is the truth of history, and i must write it. [illustration: the bull fight] a greaser, with no weapon, but simply his _seraper_, a shawl that he wore around his shoulders, took that off and stretching it out in his hands, jumped down into the pit of the ring alone, to the entire astonishment of the audience, looked mr. bull in the eyes and dodged him with his shawl as the animal attacked him. he had probably been brought up among wild bulls. the audience all arose in excitement, expecting to see him torn to pieces, and crying out for him to escape. the professional bull-fighters got their red flags and drew the bull off, and the greaser escaped, and seemed to be surprised at the excitement of the audience. they succeeded in getting the bull out, and dragging out the dead horse, and letting in a less ferocious one. the same performance was gone through with him, as already described, except that this one was conquered. at last, when the bull pitched at the man, he holds his sword in such a way that the weight of the animal comes on it, and passes between his foreshoulders and penetrates his heart. in an instant the back wilts and the animal lies dead. it was the most sudden change, from full vitality to death; it startled you. it's a shock to your nervous system. my friend and myself said it was the first and last bull-fight we would ever see. the price of lumber and vegetables kept up. i paid forty cents a pound for potatoes in buying provisions for the hands on my brig. i furnished them enough to last them on the up trip, but not for the return, so they would hurry back. it was now time for the vessel with the houses to arrive, and i expected to buy a ship with the money, and to go to the sandwich islands and make, what i considered, a fortune for me, but alas! no _prince de joinville_ came. it was hope deferred. finally the rainy season set in in full blast, and all consumption of lumber stopped. the high price had stimulated shipments from everywhere. there was a big reaction in the price. the first prominent failure in the city took place, i think it was ward & co., commission merchants and private bankers. it was said it was owing to his large orders of shipments of lumber to that market. he shot himself with a pistol in the morning in his bedroom and died, knowing that he could not meet his creditors if he went to his place of business. about this time it was announced from telegraph hill that my vessel, with the houses, was entering the port two or three months after she was due, striking a glutted market. i had four or five thousand dollars to raise to pay the freight on them to get possession of them, or i would lose the capital invested. so instead of making $18,000 profit, which i might have made if they had come on time, i was running the risk of losing the capital invested in them. colonel stevenson had selected six of them some time before, which he wanted for his new york of the pacific, which he said he would make me an offer on as soon as they arrived. i saw it was my only chance to save myself to close that sale. i was at his office in the morning as soon as there was any probability of they being there. i said to him: "the houses have arrived. i am ready to receive your offer for the six you selected." he said he had no money now. i said i did not want any (which was a white lie). i said i would take a draft on prosper, whetmore & co., of new york city, for $3,000, payable in ninety days, and his note for the balance, on his own time. he looked over the plan of the houses again. he said he would not give but so much. i said to him, that was not the question, what will you give? he said i will give you that amount, naming the sum. i said at once, they are sold, they are yours. he gave me the draft on whetmore & co., for $3,000, payable in ninety days. just at this time, his partner, dr. parker, came in. the colonel informed him he had bought six of my houses. he said, you have made a mistake. lumber is in a glutted market. it is falling rapidly. the colonel said, that makes no difference now, i have bought them. the colonel was considered rich. no one there questioned the soundness of his draft. i went with it to all the brokers in the city, but could get no offer for it. i then went to charley minton, the agent of the steamer _senator_. i thought he could send it to new york to the owners of the steamer for its face value. he said, the best he could do with me was to give me $2,250 for it. money was ten per cent a month, and scarce at that. three months time, at the rate of interest there, would be $900. i said, i would take it. he gave me a check on his broker for that amount. he paid me in gold, $16 spanish doubloon pieces. i tied them up in my handkerchief, and went to mccondery & co., and said to him, the vessel, with my houses, i see, are consigned to you. i will pay you $2,000 now on the freight, and before they are all taken off of the ship, i will pay you the balance. he said, take them all off, and pay the balance at your convenience (we were acquainted and had come up on the same steamer, and played whist together). it cost me $800 to get them ashore. there were no wharves then. they had to be taken ashore on lighters. i expected my brig down from stockton soon, with $2,000 freight money, so i was out of the woods financially for the present. i then made arrangement with the colonel to have them landed on the north beach on land owned by him, where i could retail out my other six houses, which i had to sell, when i got a proper price for them. we formed a copartnership. i was to take one of my smallest houses, and have it erected there, to be used for an office, and to use the grounds as a lumber yard to sell on commission, and as a place for storage, which was very scarce then. there were quite a number who had taken the liberty of piling lumber and other articles on it, using it as public ground. i took formal possession of it in the name of colonel stevenson, and gave notice to the different parties that if they did not remove their materials from the premises in ten days they would be charged so much for storage. some removed, and others did not. i recollect the german house that did not remove it in thirty days after the ten days of notice. it was a wealthy house, and i handed them a bill of $250 for storage, at which they demurred very seriously, questioning our title; but they paid it. when i went out to the ship to see about taking my houses off, i met the first mate, whom i got acquainted with in new york. i told him i thought the ship had been lost; that all the old tugs of ships had got in ahead of them. he said to me, i have had the worst time i ever had in my life. i have had to carry that old man on my shoulders (referring to the captain) all the way. whenever we had a good breeze and sails were all full, he would come on deck and order shorten sail to check our speed, or we might have been here a month sooner. that told the whole story. i saw them take freight, in my presence, when they were offered $1.50 per foot, when they told me there was no room for the other half of my houses to go on the ship, when i had a legal contract with them at sixty cents per foot. my freight alone would have made a difference of two or three thousand dollars by excluding it and taking the other in at the difference in the price of it. there is no doubt they served many other shippers and put their goods on other vessels, and kept theirs back until the other ships would get to san francisco ahead of them, so that they could deliver the freight according to their bills of lading on the arrival of the _prince de joinville_. that was why my speculation was ruined by their dishonesty. instead of being the fastest ship, it was a fraud, a decoy, a dead trap on those who were unfortunate enough to ship by it. when i saw the captain he was very humble. he had all kinds of apologies to make, and invited me to go to china with him. i could have the best state-room on his ship. it should not cost me a dollar. i could go around the world with him. i saw that my speculation was ruined by their dishonesty, and there was no remedy, and, like all human events, that ended it, and i had to abandon my sandwich island expedition and throw my anticipated fortune from it to the winds. mr. meighs, the one who failed and ran away to chili, and built the railroad in that country from valparaiso to its capital, and then organized a company and constructed railroads in peru, had a lumber yard side of me. i sold, after a while, my other six houses, one at a time, retailing them out, and, by careful management, just succeeded in saving my original capital. i was satisfied with san francisco, with my interest in the lumber yards, and with my partnership with colonel stevenson on the north beach. my interest in my brig, when it came down, and my prospective interest in what was to be the city of toulom, and my associations with mr. r., who was building the first brewery on the pacific, which i was backing up with my indorsement, and i was to have one-third interest when it was completed, if i wanted it, at first cost, looked like a very favorable investment for me at that time. i was living an active and enterprising life, with bright hopes of future fortune. one morning when i went down to the north beach i found there had been a house erected on our land in the night. i, of course, informed the colonel at once. he informed me it was a man by the name of colton, who pretended to have a title under what he called the "colton grant," and that it was bogus, and that he had the building erected to try and force his title. the colonel said he would see the judge of the court in the city, and get an order for its removal. in about two hours he sent a messenger with an order from the judge authorizing us to remove it. he instructed me to employ all the men that were necessary, and have the material removed from the premises and he would pay the bill, which i did, and our title was not disputed after that. i had never been on a trip to stockton, and i had chartered the freight capacity of the brig to a man for $1,800. he was to put in it all the freight he chose to. i thought it would not be for his interest to overload it. if the vessel sunk there was no insurance--his cargo would be a total loss. i had reserved the deck and the passenger room. the conditions of the charter were that the freight was to be delivered in stockton by a certain date or i was to forfeit the $1,800. the freight was aboard; he had loaded the vessel deeper than i had expected. i had a number of passengers at $15 each. they were to furnish their own provisions, but to have the privileges of the cooking stove on deck. the vessel was anchored out in the bay, to sail at 2 p.m., when the tide was most favorable. i had a new chain for the anchor, and the captain said he wanted a kedge anchor for safety, so i ordered one from mccondery & co., for $35, on condition that, without fail, they would have it on board before 2 p.m. we were all on board by 1 o'clock, waiting for the favorable tide, to start. at 1:30 no anchor and the bay was very rough. the captain said it would not come, they would not venture out in that sea in a small boat. i said it would be there certain, i knew my man. sure enough, in a few moments we could just see a boat in the distance, two men rowing and one guiding the rudder. they came alongside and we had the anchor aboard in five minutes. in the stern was mr. watson, one of the firm. he said he was afraid to trust his men in that sea for fear they would fail to deliver it. the profit on it to them was only $3.50, and it was a very wealthy firm, but they had pledged their word to me that they would have it there at that time. (would that there were more of such honorable men.) we hoisted anchor, the tide in our favor and a stiff breeze blowing. we passed out of the bay of san francisco into the bay of los angles, and crossed that into the straits of benica, which is four miles long and connects with suisan bay. the straits of benica was a perfectly safe anchorage. it was approaching night, and blowing almost a gale. i was in hopes and expected that the captain would come to anchor in the straits and wait until morning before venturing out into the suisan bay, which was twenty miles across to the mouth of the san joaquin river, where we were bound. the bay was almost like the open sea; you could get out of sight of land. i think he would have come to anchor if i, the owner, had not been on board, and had not urged upon him the importance of having the vessel in stockton in time. as he was the captain i felt sensitive about interfering with his business, and had hoped and expected, all the way through the straits, that he would come to anchor, and not undertake to cross the bay that night. darkness was setting in, but he did not come to anchor. the gale increased to a hurricane; all sails were taken in, and we were scudding under bare poles, and had a lantern hung up in the rigging. the captain came to me and said, loaded as we were, we could not live in that gale; he would have to seek a place to anchor on the side of the bay. i said to him, he was the captain. the line was thrown out every few minutes. at last we found sounding, and the anchor was cast. we had been there but a short time before another vessel, more than twice as large as ours, came aside of us, with a heavy deck-load of lumber, and got entangled in our anchor chain, and kept drawing us nearer to them. if they had struck our vessel we knew we were lost. they would have sunk us at once. seven times they came down on us and each time, by superhuman efforts, we warded the blow, all hands and passengers doing their best, fully realizing the danger they were in. it seems to me that i hear now the oaths of the captain of the other vessel rising above the sounds of the terrific hurricane as he was ordering his men, for they, too, were in danger if they collided with us. of course, he was on the bare poles. as he came on us the eighth time they hoisted their jib sail. as the wind struck it, it seemed to lift their vessel out of the water, and, thank god, we were freed from it. it was forty-five years ago, and, as i write, it all lives before me as visible as if it were yesterday. the captain of the other vessel had seen our light, and, supposing we were in the right channel, had followed us. we had escaped what seemed almost certain death, but were not out of danger. our new good chain was attached to our bad chain, and the captain had let out all our chain to free us from the other vessel, so we were actually hanging by our bad chain in the open roadstead, not in the protection of a harbor, and liable to drag our anchor or break our chain and be wrecked; but we could do nothing more than submit to our fate. i thought i would get into my berth and try and get to sleep, and, if i found myself alive in the morning, we might be saved. i did sleep, and when i awoke it was daylight. the gale was subsiding. we had dragged our anchor. the bow of our brig was very sharp; the banks were soft mud, and we had struck it with such force that we were wedged in. the tide was low and we were almost out of water. we fortunately had struck the land with our bow, and that was what saved us. if we had struck with the side of the vessel we would have been wrecked. so, ever since we had been freed from the other vessel, we had been in safety and did not know it. we waited for the tide to rise and then got our kedge anchor out and pulled the vessel out off the bank as the tide rose. the sea was very rough, but the gale had subsided, and by 11 o'clock we were entering the mouth of the san joaquin river in safety. it was forty miles up the river to stockton. the river was in a valley of tullieries. the land seemed to be in the course of formation. there was but one tree between the mouth and stockton, a willow, called the lone tree. the only place on its banks where the soil had formed solid enough to produce one, surrounded by hills at that season of the year, covered with beautiful wild flowers. the scenery was magnificent. as the river curved we could see the white sails of other vessels. they looked as if they were in a field. you could not see the water at a little distance, the river being narrow. we could almost jump from our deck to the banks. we felt in perfect safety. contrasting that with the night before in that terrible hurricane and in the death struggles for our lives, it produced a supreme feeling of ethereal ideal happiness that this earth seemed almost a paradise. the captain informed me that there was one place on the river where we might have to anchor. it was called the devil's elbow. there was a sharp turn in the river and the current was rapid, and we might have to pull the vessel around it; but sometimes, if it was favorable, he could sail around it, and if done successfully, then the vessels that had come to anchor could find no fault; otherwise you had to come to behind the others and take your turn. when we were coming to it, he was at the helm and i at his side, to see what was the best to do. as we approached, we saw several vessels had come to for the purpose of pulling around. the last was a large vessel that the captain said could never get around. if we anchored behind it we might not be able to deliver our freight according to the charter. we had put an english sailor in the hold to let the anchor go, in case we did not succeed, if we gave him the signal to do so. as we came to the place with all sails set, there was a breeze sprung up, filling all the sails. i said to the captain, let her go. as we passed the vessels that had come to anchor there was a howling and yelling from them of derision and anger at us for going by them. just as we got two-thirds of the way around, the sailor in the hold let the anchor go without orders. he got frightened. if he had not, we would have made it successfully. as it was, we got ahead of all the other vessels, and got to stockton in ample time. the next morning there was a drove of mules at the side of the brig, and the cargo was being discharged and packed on their backs to be taken to the mining camps, as there were no good roads there in those early days. about all the grain and flour came from valparaiso and chili, put up very nicely in fifty and one hundred pound sacks, so it was easy to handle. as soon as all the mules were packed, the head mule, who had on a bell fastened around his neck, which rang as he went, was started first, and all the rest, in single file, followed him, and they were going for the different mining camps in the interior. in two or three days we were unloaded, and we were prepared to return. the freight money was paid to me in gold, at $16 per ounce in full, all being satisfactory to the shipper. i had delivered it within the time specified. one of the passengers who came up with me, a tailor, from salem, mass., asked me if i would not give him a free passage back on the vessel to san francisco; that he wanted to try to get home; he was discouraged. i said to him you have traveled eighteen thousand miles to get to the gold mines, and now you are within half a day of them and want to go home without trying your fortune. if you do go, you will never forgive yourself, but go to the mines and try your luck; then, if you are discouraged and want to go back, i will give you a free passage, as we have no passengers on our return trip. home sickness. when a person was attacked with it, it seemed the worst kind of malady, as it would take them months to return if they had the money to pay their passage. many were married men, separated a great distance from their wives and children. others, young men, who had their engaged ones waiting for them to return, with their fortunes made in the gold mines, to marry them. i can recall several instances where i have known them to lie down and die from despair. i was talking with an old californian of those days. he said he had once given up and made up his mind to wander off by himself on the mountains and die, which he did. as he lay there in despair, after a while he thought he would look around him, and he saw the hill was covered with every variety of beautiful wild flowers. he said their beauty seemed to refresh and revive his mind, and give him new resolution, and he decided to try his fortune again, and he became successful and returned to the states with a competency. [illustration: the despondent miner.] the early pioneers had some conflict with the indians in the interior of the country. five oregon men were massacred by them when engaged in digging gold, but a terrible retribution was visited upon those indians concerned in it by the enraged forty-niners. the indians, at first, had nothing but bows and arrows, and, of course, could not compete with rifles. several other small engagements were rumored, but they soon gave up all contests with the whites, for they saw it was useless. there was an acorn that was quite plenty in california, being longer than ours, but not of a bitter taste. the squaws made flour of them. the digger indians were the next tribe east of them; they were probably the lowest grade. they would set fire to the prairie grass to burn the grasshoppers, and pick them up and eat them. they deemed them a luxury. the oregon tribes were a higher grade, a warlike race, and superior in every respect. the highest grade of them, in the united states now, are the choctaws and chicksaws that formerly occupied the northern parts of the state of mississippi. when a young man, i spent three weeks in their nation, travelling alone, and was treated with great hospitality by them. they are quite intelligent, and they have laws and customs as civilized nations. we generally look upon all of them as alike, but such is not the case--there is as great a difference between different tribes as much as between different white nations. the california indians were not naturally warlike, and when the early pioneers expected any trouble from them, they would appoint a committee to go and see them, and they generally settled their difficulty without any conflicts. jesuit mission stations. there were about sixteen jesuit missionary stations in the country before the discovery of gold, and were there for the purpose of converting the indians to the catholic church, and when converted, generally made them work to sustain their missionary establishments. i had returned to my office on the north beach after my only trip to stockton on my brig. my friend r. was progressing with his brewery. he had received a favorable letter from lieutenant s. about our touwalma city, and informing me that s. had a diamond ring that cost $800 in rio janeiro, at a broker's office, as collateral security for $250 borrowed on it at ten per cent per month, and the time was about up. if i would redeem the ring i could keep it and wear it until he paid me. i went and saw the ring. it was as represented, and i redeemed it and wore it for a considerable time. one day r. came to me with a naming letter from s. that he had laid out the city and been elected alcalde, and we would make our fortune, and there was a friend of s. that was going up there, and if i would send up the ring by him he would appreciate it so much, and he would be responsible that i should not lose any thing by it. i was foolish enough to be persuaded by him and handed him the ring, for which act i have never forgiven myself. that was the last i ever saw of the ring or any of the money invested in touwalma city, for it turned out a failure. it was never the head of navigation on the river, or any thing else that was ever heard of. there were three unfortunate events that occurred in california in the winter months of 1849 and the beginning of 1850. the rainy season had destroyed all the dams constructed on the gold rivers and raceways, which had been constructed at great expense for the purpose of working the beds of the river for gold, the rivers often rising from ten to eighteen feet in a night, and the current running with terrible force. the second, the flooding of sacramento, destroying large quantities of merchandise and carrying away and undermining the houses there. the third was the great fire in san francisco, destroying one-third of the main business portion of the city, upon which there was no insurance. there were no companies organized or agents there to insure property then, as it was too risky. there was one four-story fire-proof building that was stored full of the most valuable goods, at a large price for storage, for it was considered absolutely fire-proof, but when the fire came the heat of the fire from the buildings around it caused the iron sides of it to expand, which let the roof fall in and burned every thing to the ground, so that nothing was saved. instead of being a place of safety, it was the most destructive of all. some ships in the bay were burned. i succeeded in getting in the rear of the fire to save my brig. i ordered the men to hoist anchor and put out further in the bay, which saved it. these unfortunate events destroyed and marred the fortune of many. on the day before i called on a private banker, g., on the plaza, and presented my check for $800. he said to me, if it made no difference, it being steamer day (once a month they went east when the gold was shipped to the mint in philadelphia by them), and if i would call in the morning for it, it would be an accommodation to him. i said i wanted to use it. he commenced weighing it out. i then thought it would make no difference to me and it was mean not to accommodate him, for i might want some favor of him. i said, if i can have it in three days without fail it would answer my purpose. he said, you can have it now, pouring the gold in the scales to weigh it. i said never mind, i don't want it now. the fire came that night, burnt his place up and all his property. he was a ruined man. i never saw him afterward. mr. g., to whom i had bargained to sell my houses to arrive, (and he backed out) was an englishman from liverpool. he had about all the consignments of shipments from that city (evidently being very popular there), to sell on commission at ten per cent; when the goods came and were sold, instead of remitting the capital to the owners and being satisfied with his commission, he used it in buying property and in erecting buildings in san francisco. he had constructed a fire-proof building which he rented to the government for a post-office, at a large sum per month, likewise the first theatre in the city, and other buildings. he informed me at one time how much his rents amounted to per month; the sum was several thousand dollars. money was worth but three to five per cent in england per year to the owners of the merchandise; while in california it was in demand at ten per cent per month. i suppose he thought he would make a great fortune for himself and then return to england (where he had a wife and children) and pay up all his obligations with extra allowance, for the use of the money, and make all satisfactory; but the great fire destroyed all his buildings, and he was a ruined man, there being no insurance in the city then. i met a friend in new york about two years after my return from california; i asked him when he saw mr. g. last. he said, "it was about 11 o'clock one day at a hotel where he invited some friends to take a drink. mr. g. was there, he declined; but afterward called him to one side and asked him to loan him $1, saying he had had no breakfast that morning." such was an example of some of the fluctuations of fortune in those days. some parties came with various kinds of machinery that was to make a certain fortune for them, and was taken up into the interior at great expense. i never knew of one that was successful. about all the companies that were formed in the states to go around cape horn for mining purposes generally dissolved after arriving in california, but what they brought with them for supplies, sold for so high a price that it generally sold for more than the cost of their passage, and they had money coming to them. some companies bought the ships as they came in and hired the captain. i recollect one, called the _mechanics' own_. every person joining their company in the states had to be voted in and pay $1,000. they put on airs and talked quite aristocratic of their captain as their boy. three persons started the first bank in san francisco, called the miners' bank, on the northwestern corner of the plaza. mr. haight, who was from rochester, n.y., and the sutler of colonel stevenson's regiment, was one of them. it was said that at first they bought gold as low as $8 per ounce, when it was worth more than $18 at the mint east. the owners of the bank made $100,000 each in three or four years. before the discovery of gold the then small places on the pacific coast obtained their supplies from small trading vessels that sailed along the coast and stopped at their towns occasionally. after the discovery of gold, at first goods went up four or five times their previous value, and when one of these vessels was seen entering the port, parties would put out in small boats to get aboard of them before they came to anchor (they on board knowing nothing about the discovery of the gold), would bargain with them for some of their goods, and finally offer them so much for all their cargo. it being beyond their expectations the offer was generally accepted, and thus some big speculations were made. a lieutenant of stevenson's regiment, who had been down in monterey and had not heard of the gold discovery, on his first day in san francisco, informed me that he did not know what to make of things. most of his old acquaintances wanted to know if he did not want to borrow some money; they had some that he could have as well as not. the steamers came in once a month with letters and papers. then long lines were formed to the post-office. sometimes it took half a day to get there. the new york papers at first sold for $1 each. then they got down to fifty cents. i sold the _new york herald_, that was more than a month old, that contained the latest news there from the states in the interior, for $5, and the man coaxed it out of me at that, for i wanted to give it to a party of friends i was going to see in the mining districts. i knew it would be a great treat to them. it is almost impossible to recall all the exact scenes of those days, so as to have them fully realized by the reader. the city of san francisco was extending more rapidly in what they called the happy valley district, which was toward the mission of dolores, established by the jesuits. i visited it when the building was intact. i recollect a painting of an indian warrior, with his bows and arrows, the implements of war, represented as a saint ascending to heaven--i suppose to create favorable impression on indians and make converts of them. my friend was going on with his brewery, and borrowing money and getting me deeper on his paper. he heard that i had $2,500 deposited with mccondery & co., and pleaded with me to let him have it as it would carry him through. i had lost all confidence in him, and felt it would be like throwing it in the sea. i informed him that i had shipped it the day before, which i had not, but went right down and gave an order for its shipment, for fear he might over-persuade me to let him have it, and i thus saved it. when most completed, a barrel of alcohol that was in the building bursted, and it ran down to the furnace and set it on fire, and burnt it up. that was the fate of the first brewery started in california. since then there have been millions made in that business there. the north beach property, after i had sold all my houses out, i closed my interest in. it proved a failure to use for a wharf or shipping point. during the seven months of summer the north-west wind blew there so hard every afternoon that it was not a safe place for vessels, and the property would never have any value for that purpose, and i do not think it has ever been used since for that. in the winter months, which is generally the rainy season, the wind blows from the south for five months, and the other seven months it blows from the north-west over six thousand miles of ocean, and, consequently, is not impregnated with any decayed vegetable matter, and is as pure as air can be. in san francisco the sun would rise in a clear sky every morning and there would be a perfect calm; by 11 a.m. there would be a little breeze; by 2 or 3 o'clock, a gale. when the sun set the wind would subside and there would be a perfect calm again. every day would be the same, month after month. what was almost a gale on the coast would be a gentle breeze up in the mining district, in the interior. the next day that air would be displaced by another gale from over the thousand miles of ocean, for it is impossible to imagine any other country with purer air. during that time there were various visionary reports of new discoveries of gold regions, one of a lake that the sands of its banks were rich with gold. all you had to do, to make your fortune, was to wash it out, which produced quite a sensation, and parties were organized to go there, but they never found it. the next year after the purchase of my brig, there were small steamers constructed to run to stockton, and they had already some sailing vessels put on, built there, and the price of freight had commenced falling, and i thought i had better sell my vessel while i could get a good price for it. there was a man who came to me and said he wanted to buy it; that he had been a captain of a boat on lake erie. i stated to him my price for it. he said that was not out of the way, but he would like to try it one trip before closing the purchase, and referred me to a mercantile house there as his reference. they said he had run vessels for them on lake erie when they were doing business in buffalo. i concluded that was entirely satisfactory; that that had evidently been his regular business. he said he wanted to employ all his own hands. i had the vessel, at the time, half loaded with freight, which i turned over to him. i paid my men and discharged them, and told them the vessel was about to change owners, and put him in full possession of it. of course i had nothing more to do with it until he returned from the trip to stockton; then i expected he would close the purchase as he said that the price was satisfactory to him. after a few weeks i commenced looking for the return of my brig, but it did not come. finally i heard a rumor that the captain had left the vessel at stockton, but did not believe it, but thought that some accident might have happened. i had borrowed a spy-glass to investigate the bay. i could have recognized my vessel by the red streak around it. finally, after it had been gone long enough to make several trips, i discovered it at anchor in the bay. i went and supplied myself with money, in case it should prove true that the captain had left the vessel, to pay his men in full before they got ashore, because the vessel was liable for their wages, whoever might have employed them; so i hired a boat to row me out to it. i met a man on the deck that seemed to be in command. i inquired of him where the captain was. he said he had run away. i spoke to him in a sharp tone of voice and said, how do you know that? he said, because i saw him on the back of a mule going over the plain. then he asked me, are you the owner? i said, yes. then i said, you have all got your pay before he went; i did not employ you. he said, some of them have got some. as you seem to be in command, i suppose you have kept an account of how it stands. he said, "come down in the cabin and i will show it to you." i said, "it was hard on me to be robbed of all my freight money, but it was also hard for them to be cheated out of their hard earnings, and i would see what i could do for them." he presented the statement of what each man had received and what was due them. i was surprised at his correctness. i said: it seems all right and i would pay them, which i did, and took their receipt. i was afraid if they went ashore and found the vessel was liable for their wages they might make any kind of demands, so i got possession of my vessel again, very much damaged. before leaving the port he had let the steamer _senator_ run into the bows of the vessel, and it cost me $700 to have it repaired, ship carpenters' wages being $20 per day, payable in gold. the events which i had anticipated of the decline of that kind of property had come, and, after it was repaired, i put it up at auction and sold it, so that rascal cost me several thousand dollars. such was life in california in the days of the forty-niners. having some leisure i thought i would take a trip up the mining regions, and make a visit to my old friends there. more than a year had passed, and greater changes had taken place than would have occurred in any other country in many years. the population of california increased one hundred thousand the first year after the discovery of the gold, which had accounted for the great changes which had taken place since my previous trip. i went up on the steamer _senator_ to sacramento, which had become quite a city, and the next morning started for coloma in a stage full of passengers, drawn by mules. i took a seat aside of the driver. i got in conversation with the driver. i asked him what pay he received? he said, only $450 per month and his board. i asked him if he had driven stages before? he said, yes, out of boston. i said, at what wages? he said, $14 a month. i said that there was a big difference between that and $450. he said, yes, but that this was his last trip. he took a party of three up only a few weeks ago, and he brought them down yesterday, and they had between $3,000 and $4,000 apiece, and he was not going to waste his time driving for $450 a month. he was going to the mines the next day. it was quite probable that the party referred to had made an unusual lucky strike, for i had met parties that had done the same thing. i had had in my hands at one time, in san francisco, a piece of solid gold metal, something in the shape of the cover of a sugar loaf, that was worth $4,500, found by a couple of green irishmen. they inquired of some miners in the interior where was a good place to dig. the miners said in fun, dig there in that sand bank behind you. the irishmen took them up in earnest and went to digging. in a short time they found that chunk of gold, where no experienced miner would think of digging. i have dug gold in the cellar of the brewery in san francisco. i think most all the soil of that part of california is impregnated with gold. but the point is to find it in sufficient quantities to pay to dig it. as an illustration, if you knew that in a certain piece of ground there was $5,000 worth of gold, and it cost you $10,000 to wash all the ground to get it, of course that land would have no gold value. i found at coloma that my friends had left the dutch bar and gone to the middle fork of the american river, some distance from there. i got directions how to get there and started on foot. toward night i met a young man who had just came overland and had separated that day from his party to get work in the mining camp. i told him where i was going, and that he had better go with me, and that he could get from $10 to $16 per day to work for other parties, or to join two others and work a claim for himself, which he did. so as it was getting toward night, we camped under a tree and slept until morning, and took a fresh start. that day we found the middle fork of the american river and my friends. the river was sunk way down in the earth. it seemed almost a mile down to the water where they were to work. it was quite a large mining place. the excitement there every day was when the "dummy" went into the river. it was a diving armor that had been used in the gulf of lower california to go down in the deep waters to hunt for pearls, and had been bought by a party of five, each putting in $800, making $4,000, expecting to make their fortunes by getting into the deep water of the gold rivers. (as i have shown before, the torrents and force of the currents had prevented any gold from ever lodging there.) every day at such an hour, it was announced that the "dummy" was a going in the river. the other miners quit their work to see it, and the proprietors of the "dummy" always treated the crowd in the most lavish manner. its credit was good for any store bills. its always treating the crowd had made it popular, and nobody would trade with the storekeeper who would not trust it, so it was death to the prosperity of the storekeeper, whether he trusted it or not. they never got any gold while there through "dummy," and when he left to go further down the river to try another place, the main storekeeper there lost $800 by trusting it, which broke him. these stores were tents, to supply immediate wants of the miners. i never heard of "dummy" afterward. i have no doubt he operated on all the store tents until he came to grief like all evil-doers. the productiveness of the gold rivers had not diminished any that i could perceive. i talked to a man who had been off a little ways to prospect in another place. i asked him what luck? he said, there was nothing there. i said, was there no gold? he said; yes, there was some, but of no value. he said a man could make $10 a day, and who was a going to waste their time on that. my visit over, i returned to san francisco. my friend r.'s brewery was not completed. i was informed he had been borrowing money from a jew at twenty per cent a month. it was no use for me to back him any more, however valuable it might be, if completed, and i had no doubt there was a fortune in it, but neither he nor i had the capital to do it. i had some other financial entangling matters, and i was afraid if i kept on with them i might get broke, and the only way i saw of getting out with them was to announce that i was going to leave, and going down to relago, central america. there was an english steamer advertised to sail for that port and panama. i thought i would go for sixty days and then return and commence again and manage my affairs in a more conservative way, and what i could control. well i closed my matters out the best i could and engaged my passage on the steamer for relago. there was considerable excitement at this time about the nicaragua route. the above place would be the terminus on the pacific coast, and, consequently, a place of importance. as i had missed it in trading six of my houses for lots in san francisco, there might be a chance to get some there in advance of any rise on them. any way, i wanted to get out of my entangling alliances and take a fresh start. the night before i sailed mr. brady (colonel stevenson's son-in-law) came to me and said the colonel did not like to have me go. i told him i had paid my passage, $200. he said the colonel understood that. he put his hand in his vest pocket and pulled out a roll of bills. he said, here is the $200, which he told me to give you, so you will not lose any thing by not going. there was once a lady, the wife of one of the officers of his regiment, who arrived there, expecting to meet her husband, but he was up in the country. the colonel asked me to go down to the steamer and meet her, and escort her to a boarding-house to stay until her husband arrived, which i did. i told him that she was short of funds, having expected to meet her husband. he gave me $150 and told me to give it to her, as if i loaned it to her, and when her husband paid me i could return it to him. i mention these little incidents to show that whatever faults he may have had, he was the most generous of friends. colonels stevenson, freemont and captain sutter will stand pre-eminent in the future history of the state as its most prominent founders. i sailed out of the port of san francisco on the steamer _ecuador_ for relago, central america, expecting to return to california within sixty days. in a few days, out at sea, we began to hear unfavorable rumors about our vessel; that the engineer had left the day before our sailing; that he did not consider it safe to go in it; that it could not carry coal enough to take it to acapulco, the next coaling place. and we were informed that it was a steamer that had been running from panama to valparaiso, and had been bought up by a speculator and sent up to san francisco as an experiment, to see if it would pay. the officers and men had never been up the coast before, and knew nothing about the port. one day we were startled in mid ocean by the stopping of the engine. we soon found the cause. the captain was about to try his sails so as to save coal (which verified the reports about being short of coal). we made some headway with the sails, but lost it again when the wind subsided, by the currents of the ocean; so that project was abandoned, and after some days we put into the port of san blas, in mexico, for fuel. there was no coal there, so we laid in all the wood we could to try and reach acapulco (here we could not buy any thing with our $5 gold pieces, but they were ready to sell for silver). the cholera had been there, they said, but had left. the priests had had a procession, and, with their incense boxes, had marched through the streets and driven it out. we took in all the wood we could get and started to make the port of acapulco, the regular coaling port for all the steamers on that coast. it was sunday p.m. we could raise fuel enough to make only four knots an hour. it was an iron steamer. we were burning what there was of the woodwork of the vessel, for if we could not make the port before dark we were lost. the officers were not acquainted with the coast. we had not fuel enough to keep steam up all night, and we would be on the broad pacific ocean, six thousand miles across, without the remotest possibility of meeting any other vessel, without any control of our steamer, subject to be driven in any direction. i heard the mate talking to the captain about the propriety of wrecking the vessel and saving what lives they could, although we were in sight of land. the captain said the under-tow was so great that none could be saved in that way. it is twice as great on the pacific as the atlantic. there were no female passengers. one man said he had $10,000 in gold with him; if his wife and children only had that he would be content to meet his fate, under the circumstances, but it was hard to leave them without it. all the passengers had more or less gold, or they would not have been returning. you can imagine with what anxiety we watched every indication of the coast to see if there was any chance of us nearing the port. finally, toward night, we saw a high projection of land on the coast, and that was predicted that it was the entrance to the port. if we could reach that point before dark, we might be saved. the passengers went to work to break up any thing for the fires that would make steam. the captain made no objections, but told them to burn all woodwork on the vessel to save their lives. at dark we reached the point we had in view, and it was fortunate for us that it was the entrance to the port. as the vessel turned to enter, you could see, coming over the waters of the ocean, a tropical storm, accompanied with wind, thunder and lightning. twenty minutes later it would have reached us, and we would have been lost. as soon as we got safely in port (and it was very dark), i can hear now, in imagination, the sound of the anchor as it was let down in the water, which assured our entire safety. it thundered and lightninged, and blowing a high gale, which was music in our ears, as we knew we were out of danger, and feeling the supreme gratification of knowing what we had escaped. blessed to us was the high mountains which surrounded the port. the entrance to it is narrow, but when you get inside it is one of the safest harbors in the world, being perfectly land-locked. the next day opened on a happy lot of passengers. i felt as if i was commencing life anew. we went ashore expecting to be there several days, as they proposed to take in a full supply of coal. this place had been once quite a city, but many years ago had been partly destroyed by an earthquake. it was said that the water went out of the bay most to the tops of the mountains, and then reacted to its usual level in the harbor; that there was a french ship carried up to the sides of the mountains, and when the water reacted, carried back in safety in the harbor. hundreds of buildings were destroyed, the ruins of which are now visible where the city once extended. i was introduced to general alvarado. he was the most prominent man in mexico, on the pacific coast, at that time, and afterward became very prominent in the public affairs of his country. on our return to the vessel that evening there was quite an excitement on board. among the passengers was a party of three who had been quite successful in sacramento in the bottling of soda and summer beer, and peddling it out through the city. they had picked up by chance an old acquaintance from waterford who belonged to an aristocratic family there, and by his habits of dissipation was a mortification to them. so when the california excitement broke out, they furnished him the money to go to the gold regions. it would either reform him or they would get rid of him. of course, such men were no good in california, and he had spent his money and wanted to return. these men came across him and told him they were going to return east in sixty days, and if he would keep straight, and drive one of their wagons for them, they would take him home with them. when they went ashore the first day they left him in charge of their baggage, and promised him that he could go ashore the next. they had their private store of wines and brandy. he had found it and tried it and got full, and treated all the sailors and everybody on board that would drink with him, and was the most popular man on board with the sailors. he repented the next day and begged their forgiveness, and they took him home with them. like a bad penny, he returned as he was before. distance did not reform him. well, our next port was relago my destination. just after dark one day we got opposite to what, according to the charts, was that port. it was necessary for them to wait until morning before they could undertake to enter it, as they had never been there before, and there were no pilots, and they decided not to let the steam go down, and they concluded that they would sail slowly around in a circle, so as to be opposite to the port in the morning. when morning came it was foggy, and we could not see the land. but they had such confidence in the correctness of their chart that they determined to enter it. instead of the port, we came to the white caps, dashing against the rocks almost mountains high, and we came within an ace of being dashed to pieces against them. if the engineer had not reversed the movement of the engine the instant he did, we would have been wrecked. the captain was now completely befogged. in a short time he came to me with a paper to sign agreeing to go to panama. it should cost me nothing extra for my passage there; that the few other passengers for that port had signed it. i thought i had better sign to go anywhere than to take any more chances in that steamer. come to find out afterward, instead of being opposite the port that morning, we were twenty miles from it, the currents of the ocean having carried us that distance while we were sailing around in a circle, which they had not ciphered on, and thus came so near wrecking us. by chance we saw a sailing vessel. the captain gave orders for the steamer to follow it, and, when we overtook it, we found it was bound for relago. there was a man on board of it who was acquainted with the port. they got him to come on our steamer and had him pilot us to that port, so i expected to go ashore, and got my baggage in readiness, and, when the time came, had it brought up on deck. they did not enter the port, but came to outside. there were two passengers, it seems, that would not sign the paper to go to panama, and it was to land them he had come to, and when i went to have my baggage put in the small boat the captain informed me i had signed to go to panama, and some of the other passengers said i was very foolish to risk my life in that sea in so small a boat. before i scarcely knew it the boat had pushed off without me, and, consequently, the whole current and course of my life was changed. upon such little incidents often do the events of human life depend. it may have been fortunate for me that i did not land there. there was in nicaragua at the time a filibustering expedition under the command of captain walker, who went from california to overthrow the government there by taking sides with the revolutionary movement that had been started, and to get an american control of the government, which i did not approve of, for i considered it a dishonorable movement; but still, if i had landed, they being my countrymen, i might have got mixed up with them. they were conquered and all sentenced to death, and shot. it is barely possible i might have shared their fate. i have often thought since i made a good escape by not landing. scenes on the pacific ocean. the course of the steamer is frequently in sight of land. the storms i have referred to were tropical storms, lasting but a short time. the ocean is generally very mild all the distance, three thousand five hundred miles from panama to san francisco. north of san francisco the storms are somewhat similar to the atlantic ocean storms. the passengers on the return trip were in the best of spirits; they were returning home; all of them had been more or less successful in california, and i can recall to my mind many pleasant times we had on board the steamship. the porpoise are very numerous on the pacific ocean; there were often, for days, schools of them on the sides of the steamer, throwing themselves out of the water, and then diving in again; great numbers, at the same time, seeming like the motion of a revolving wheel. occasionally we would hear the cry, "there she blows;" a jet of water being thrown up many feet high in the air--a sperm whale had come up to breathe. we frequently saw flying fish. one day there was a school of them landed on the steamer; they are similar to other fish, except having wings, but not of a very large size. at another time a booby bird came on the steamer. it got its name from its stupidity. we frequently saw them on the water, floating on a piece of board or a stick of wood; sailors say they have seen them five hundred miles out to sea in that way. this one you could take up and handle; it made no resistance. on the coast of central america we saw two mountain peaks of great height, standing out, individually, like the pyramids, said to be extinct volcanoes that were thrown up from the internal fires of the earth, and which, at one time, belched forth melted lava and fire. we arrived safe in panama. i was so near home that i thought i might as well return and see my friends, and take a fresh start for california, and try my fortune once more. they had commenced building the railroad over the isthmus, but it was not completed, so we crossed over to cruize, the head of navigation on the chagres river, and went down that to its mouth, and there took the steamer _georgia_ for new york, commanded by captain porter, of the united states navy--the man who had control of the vessels in going down the mississippi river and successfully passing vicksburg, which had so much to do with its capture. he was a perfect gentleman, and commanded your admiration with the skill of his management of the vessel. there were on the vessel well-dressed pickpockets, who went from new york to the isthmus, to return by the steamers to the city, for the chances of robbing the returning californians of their gold dust, as all of them had more or less of it on their persons. one unfortunate victim of their wiles appealed strongly to my sympathies. he was an english sailor, and had been two or three years up in the gold mines, and had $3,000 or $4,000 in gold dust in a buckskin bag on his person. he showed it to me. i advised him to deposit it with the purser for safety; that i had done so with mine. he said they could not rob him. he was about the happiest man i ever saw. he was richer, in feeling, than the vanderbilts. he said he had a wife and children in liverpool, and would take the first steamer from new york for that port. he said he had not seen his family for several years, and now that he had the gold he could make them all happy. he was in the steerage. a few days after i heard he was sick. he had fainted. some parties had helped him up; evidently pickpockets had taken that opportunity to rob him; his gold was all gone. i explained his case to captain porter, but nothing could be done. there was no way to identify his gold dust from any other; it was all alike. when he arrived in new york, he would have to go to the hospital until he got well enough to ship on some other vessel for $14 per month, and not be able to return to his wife and children with his gold, and make them happy, while these black-hearted villainsillians were spending his money, his hard earnings of years. i entered in a bond, with myself, that if i were ever on a jury i would never show any mercy to a thief. as we were sailing along many ships and schooners came in sight. we were evidently nearing the great port of new york. the land of staten island soon came in sight covered with snow. it was late in the fall. it was the first i had seen since my departure from the same port, except on the highest peaks of the sierra nevada mountains. here ends my personal adventures of the days of the forty-niners, to be continued by the peroration on california. peroration. on my return, in looking over my finances, i was no poorer than when i left. it must be evident to the reader that i had acquired no wealth to astonish my friends with my riches, which was the visionary expectation of the early pioneers to the gold eldorado. i have been writing from personal recollections of events that occurred forty-five years ago. of course, there was nothing in my enterprises, or the little fluctuations of fortune that would be of particular interest to any one; but in the form of a personal narrative, it was the only way i could recall vividly to my mind, the events of so long ago. there were a series of articles published in the _century_ magazine two years ago, which i read with great interest, for they were truthful, but no book has ever been published that took in fully those two years when common labor was $16 per day, payable in gold. such an event was never known to occur before, and probably never will again. i have not drawn on my imagination in the least in this narrative. i have simply attempted to portray from memory events that actually occurred under my own observation. any forty-niner will concede the truth of my narrative. i did not return to california as i had expected. cupid's arrow pierced my heart in the person of a young lady, and sealed my fate. i had a cottage built in the quiet and beautiful valley of schoharie, where i have passed more than thirty years of happy married life. while not possessing the wealth of the successful pioneer, i have been content. "a monument to jacob a.l. fisher, a union soldier. "_interview with doctor knower, who has charge of it--some interesting reminiscences of forty-niners._ "a monument to be erected in the old stone fort cemetery to jacob a.l. fisher, a union soldier, by abraham schell, his uncle, of california. "a draft of the above monument is before us. it is quite an affair, about twenty-seven feet high, with a full length statue of a soldier on top. it is now being constructed in des moines, iowa, to be shipped by the 1st of may, and unveiled on the 4th day of july, 1894, with appropriate ceremonies. dr. knower, in 76, in laying the corner-stone to the david williams state monument, gave the grandest celebration that ever occurred in this county. this one he expects to rely to a great extent on the local army organizations of the county, as this honor paid to one of their compatriots in arms is an honor to them. "we have before us a copy of the stockton (cal.) _evening mail_ of november 9, 1893, containing a seven column article descriptive of abraham schell's vineyard at knight's ferry, cal. we quote from it: 'a characteristic act of abraham schell was to give a deed to the entire place and all of its appurtenances, last summer, to herrick r. schell, his nephew, who had served him faithfully as assistant and business associate for twenty-six years.' the property conveyed consisted of three thousand acres, upon which mr. schell had expended at the time the deed was given a quarter of a million of dollars. we see by the same article that abraham schell's landed purchases in that locality, in the early days, amounted to fifteen thousand five hundred and thirty-five acres. "mr. schell joined a company formed by dr. knower (who made an investment in it, and was then a resident of albany), which sailed on the ship _tarolinton_ from the port of new york, on the 13th of january, 1849. the doctor, the following spring, shipped from albany, twelve houses around cape horn, the freight on which was $5,000, he going by the way of the isthmus, arriving in san francisco on the 25th of september, 1849. on the steamer going up from panama was judge terry, of louisiana, who killed united states senator broderick in a duel, and who was years afterward assassinated. "in these early days there was a contest between northern and southern pioneers whether california should come in the union a free or a slave state. broderick, a democrat from the city of new york, represented the northern sentiment, and was supported by the whigs of the state. common labor at that time was $16 per day, payable in gold. it was more from pride than from any thing to do with the moral question of slavery. they did not want to come in competition with slave labor. the northern element predominated, and california came in a free state. its first constitution was written by george washington sherwood, who was a democratic member of the new york legislature from washington county, and copied after the constitution of this state. "california may be said to be the child of the state of new york; her citizens may be said to have been pre-eminent in its development and present greatness. "abraham schell was born in gallupville, and proposes to be buried in the neighboring village of middleburgh, his wife's native place, where he has erected a monument. "they say that all forty-niners who remained in california either became millionaires or paupers. it seems that mr. schell was one of the former. he was an unconditional union man in the rebellion, visiting the hospitals of the wounded soldiers, and assisting them by his means, and the erection of this monument to his nephew for his services in that war is but in accord with his acts of patriotism at that time." the above article inspired this undertaking at this time. i expected to find my friend on at the dedication of the monument, and thought i would have the manuscript ready on his arrival and submit it to him, and propose to have him go in partnership with me in its publication, and have him revise it with me. he was a man of high literary attainments, and an experienced forty-niner, who could have added many important events to it that did not come under my observation. he was wealthy, and had the means to bring it properly before the public. death of a former schoharian. intelligence reaches us of the death of abraham schell, at his home at knight's ferry, california, in the early part of february. mr. schell was seventy-six years old, and was a native of this county, having been born in the town of wright. at the time of the gold excitement in 1849 he was in the mercantile business in albany, but sold out and joining a company of friends journeyed to california, where he invested his means to good advantage and became highly successful, amassing a large fortune. his vineyards and their product have long been celebrated. a man of independent thought and fine literary attainments, he was one of the sons of schoharie county, whose enterprise and intellectual culture we may take just pride in. his remains are deposited in a vault there, to be brought here in the spring by his nephew, and interred in their final resting place in the cemetery at middleburgh, where he has a $2,000 monument erected. we learn from dr. knower that the proposed monument to his nephew at old stone fort will undoubtedly be erected, as it has been contracted for, but the full details he will not be posted on until the arrival of the nephew in the spring. the above will show that death, which plays an important hand in the events of human life, intervened; so i have gone on alone and submit it to the public, such as it is. i hope and trust it may meet the approval of all californians, more particularly of those of the days to which it refers. if they will give their approval, it will add to the happiness and gratification of one of their compatriots of those early days of the pioneers and founders of the state of california. what california has become since, we, at that time, had no realization of. instead of conceiving it an utter impossibility of ever building one railroad across the continent, we now have five. instead of conceiving the idea that it would never be an agricultural country, it may be said to be the vineyard and wine producing country of the world, and it has a greater variety of productions than most any other land. the city of san francisco, when i first entered it, had not as many good buildings as a common eastern village. now it has a population of nearly four hundred thousand, and edifices that cost millions. it has produced more millionaires, from persons that went there poor, than any other country before in the history of the world, and more money has been donated to science and education by those successful pioneers, who were the creators of their own fortune in the same time, than all the rest of the world in the past forty-five years, since the days of the forty-niners. lick's institution for the science of astronomy, leland stanford's twenty millions to the alto university of learning, open to all students, are illustrations of the above statements. the foundation of the fortunes of many bankers and wealthy capitalists of the east were made in california in the days of the forty-niners. mill, the owner of the great building at the corner of broadway and wall street, the ground on which it stands costing a million, who is many times a millionaire, went from sing sing, in this state, a poor boy in 1849. armour, the great millionaire cattle dealer of chicago, made his first money there in those days, which laid the foundation of his great fortune, and many others i can recall to mind too numerous to mention. while all did not succeed, as they never do in any human enterprise, some got discouraged, others fell by the way and laid down and died from disappointment, yet others more than realized their most fabulous conception of wealth. i was told when i was a boy if i went where the sun set and dug for gold i would find it. when i became a man i went three thousand miles in the direction of the sun setting and dug and found gold. it is not a dream, for as i close this writing i see on my little finger a gold ring made from the gold i there dug, which has been there for forty-five years. it is so fine that it has been wearing away, and it is not more than one-fourth the size it was when i first put it on, and time is likewise wearing on me, and it will probably last as long as i do, and we will disappear together, as shakespeare says, "besmeared with sluttish time." the end. appendix. it was the brains and statesmanship of wm. l. marcy, when he was secretary of war under president polk, that inaugurated and generaled the movements that resulted in our securing possession of california--by his expeditions, sent by sea and by land, of regular forces, followed by the volunteer regiment of one thousand men, under the command of col. jonathan stevenson, as the following able state paper indicates: [confidential.] [illustration: w.l. marcy] war department, washington, _june_ 3, 1846. sir.--i herewith send you a copy of my letter to the governor of missouri for an additional force of one thousand mounted men. the object of thus adding to the force under your command is not, as you will perceive, fully set forth in that letter, for the reason that it is deemed prudent that it should not, at this time, become a matter of public notoriety; but to you it is proper and necessary that it should be stated. it has been decided by the president to be of the greatest importance in the pending war with mexico to take the earliest possession of upper california. an expedition with that view is hereby ordered, and you are designated to command it. to enable you to be in sufficient force to conduct it successfully this additional force of a thousand mounted men has been provided, to follow you in the direction of santa fe, to be under your orders or the officer you may leave in command at santa fe. it cannot be determined how far this additional force will be behind that designated for the santa fe expedition, but it will not probably be more than a few weeks. when you arrive at santa fe with the force already called, and shall have taken possession of it, you may find yourself in a condition to garrison it with a small part of your command (as the additional force will soon be at that place), and with the remainder, press forward to california. in that case you will make such arrangements as to being followed by the reinforcements before mentioned, as in your judgment may be deemed safe and prudent. i need not say to you that in case you conquer santa fe (and with it will be included the department of the state of new mexico), it will be important to provide for retaining safe possession of it. should you deem it prudent to have still more troops for the accomplishment of the object herein designated, you will lose no time in communicating that opinion on that point, and all others connected with the enterprise, to this department. indeed you are hereby authorized to make a direct requisition for it upon the governor of missouri. it is known that a large body of mormon emigrants are en route to california for the purpose of settling in that country. you are desired to use all proper means to have a good understanding with them, to the end that the united states may have their co-operation in taking possession of and holding that country. it has been suggested here that many of these mormons would willingly enter into the service of the united states and aid us in our expedition against california. you are hereby authorized to muster into service such as can be induced to volunteer; not, however, to a number exceeding one-third of your entire force. should they enter the service they will be paid as other volunteers, and you can allow them to designate, so far as it can be properly done, the persons to act as officers thereof. it is understood that a considerable number of american citizens are now settled on the sacramento river, near sutter's establishment, called "nueva helvetia," who are well disposed toward the united states. should you, on your arrival in the country, find this to be the true state of things there, you are authorized to organize and receive into the service of the united states such portion of these citizens as you may think useful to aid you to hold the possession of the country. you will in that case allow them, so far as you shall judge proper, to select their own officers. a large discretionary power is invested in you in regard to these matters, as well as to all others, in relation to the expedition confided to your command. the choice of routes by which you will enter california will be left to your better knowledge and ampler means of getting accurate information. we are assured that a southern route (called the caravan route, by which the wild horses are brought from that country into new mexico) is practicable, and it is suggested as not improbable that it can be passed over in the winter months, or at least late in autumn. it is hoped that this information may prove to be correct. in regard to routes; the practicability of procuring needful supplies for men and animals, and transporting baggage is a point to be well considered. should the president be disappointed in his cherished hope that you will be able to reach the interior of upper california before winter, you are then desired to make the best arrangement you can for sustaining your forces during the winter, and for an early movement in the spring. though it is very desirable that the expedition should reach california this season (and the president does not doubt you will make every possible effort to accomplish this object), yet if, in your judgment, it cannot be undertaken with a reasonable assurance of success, you will defer it, as above suggested, until spring. you are left unembarrassed by any specific directions in the matter. it is expected that the naval forces of the united states which are now, or will soon be in the pacific, will be in possession of all the towns on the seacoast, and will co-operate with you in the conquest of california. arms, ordnance, munitions of war, and provisions to be used in that country, will be sent by sea to our squadron in the pacific for the use of the land forces. should you conquer and take possession of new mexico and upper california, or considerable places in either, you will establish temporary civil government therein, abolishing all arbitrary restrictions that may exist, so far as it may be done with safety. in performing this duty, it would be wise and prudent to continue in their employment all such of the existing officers as are known to be friendly to the united states, and will take the oath of allegiance to them. the duties of the custom-house ought, at once, to be reduced to such a rate as may be barely sufficient to maintain the necessary officers without yielding any revenue to the government. you may assure the people of these provinces that it is the wish and design of the united states to provide for them a free government with the least possible delay, similar to that which exists in our territories. they will then be called on to exercise the rights of freemen in electing their own representatives to the territorial legislature. it is foreseen that what relates to the civil government will be a difficult and unpleasant part of your duty, and much must necessarily be left to your own discretion. in your whole conduct you will act in such a manner as best to conciliate the inhabitants and render them friendly to the united states. it is desirable that the usual trade between the citizens of the united states and the mexican provinces should be continued, as far as practicable, under the changed condition of things between the two countries. in consequence of extending your expedition into california it may be proper that you should increase your supply for goods to be distributed as presents to the indians. the united states superintendent of indian affairs at st. louis will aid you in procuring these goods. you will be furnished with a proclamation in the spanish language, to be issued by you and circulated among the mexican people on your entering into or approaching their country. you will use your utmost endeavors to have the pledges and promises therein contained carried out to the utmost extent. i am directed by the president to say that the rank of brevet brigadier-general will be conferred on you as soon as you commence your movement toward california, and sent round to you by sea or over the country, or to the care of the commandant of our squadron in the pacific. in that way cannon, arms, ammunition and supplies for the land forces will be sent to you. very respectfully, your obedient servant, w.l. marcy, _secretary of war_. colonel s. n. kearney, _fort leavenworth, missouri._ emily ratliff, juliet sutherland, charles franks and the online distributed proofreading team. business hints for men and women by a. r. calhoun contents chapter i common sense farming 1. wealth, land and labor. 2. money. 3. sources of wealth. 4. the farmer, a producer, and seller. 5. business methods essential. chapter ii documents you should understand 1. deeds. 2. abstracts of title. 3. parties to a deed. 4. different deeds. 5. making a deed. 6. recording deeds. chapter iii forms of deeds and mortgages 1. trust deeds. 2. as to mortgages. 3. mortgage forms. 4. payments. 5. assignments. 6. redemption of mortgages. 7. equity of redemption. chapter iv wills 1. two kinds. 2. limitations of wills. 3. how to make a will. 4. on executive duties. 5. administrators. 6. debts. 7. final settlement. chapter v letter writing 1. business letters. 2. the heading. 3. forms. 4. the greeting. 5. body of letter. 6. ending a letter. 7. materials. 8. letters of introduction, etc. chapter vi bills, receipts and accounts 1. bills for goods. 2. bills for labor. 3. discounting bills. 4. forms of receipts. 5. what is an order? chapter vii who should keep accounts? 1. an account with crops. 2. workingman's account. 3. other records. 4. copies. chapter viii as to banks 1. national banks. 2. banks as lenders. 3. interest on deposits. 4. check and deposit banks. 5. how to draw a check. 6. certificates of deposit. 7. use of checks. chapter ix savings banks 1. how business is conducted. 2. how to deposit. 3. how account grows. 4. limit of deposit. 5. how to draw money. 6. savings bank revenues. chapter x notes--drafts 1. definition and illustration. 2. days of grace. 3. indorsing notes. 4. negotiable notes. 5. joint notes. 6. discounting notes. 7. interest on notes. 8. protests. 9. notices. 10. accommodations. 11. lost notes. 12. notes about notes. chapter xi a draft 1. to make a draft. 2. forms. 3. for collection. 4. dishonor. 5. protests. 6. buying drafts. 7. a good plan. 8. good as cash. chapter xii just money 1. what is money? 2. united states money. 3. metal money. 4. paper money. 5. bank notes. 6. "greenbacks." 7. treasury certificates. 8. worn-out notes. chapter xiii our postal business 1. the department. 2. rural free delivery. 3. classified mail matter. 4. postal rules. 5. foreign rates. 6. stamps. 7. postal cards. 8. registering letters. 9. special delivery. 10. money orders. 11. cashing p.o. orders. 12. advice. chapter xiv telegrams--the telephone 1. description. 2. directions. 3. charges. 4. telegraphing money. 5. the method. 6. the telephone. chapter xv business by express 1. two kinds. 2. instructions. 3. the company's duty. 4. collections by express. 5. c. 0. d. by express. 6. money by express. 7. money orders. chapter xvi about railroads 1. bills of lading. 2. express bills. 3. a bill and a draft. 4. some forms. chapter xvii taxes 1. definition. 2. kinds of taxes. 3. customs duty. 4. internal revenue. 5. stamps. 6. state taxes. 7. exempt from taxes. 8. insufficient taxes. 9. personal property. 10. town taxes. 11. payments. 12. corporation taxes. 13. taxes in general. 13. the returns. chapter xviii contracts--leases--guarantees 1. requisites to a contract. 2. the consideration. 3. written and verbal contracts. 4. forms of contract. 5. kinds of contract. 6. a lease. 7. as to repairs. 8. sub-letting. 9. what is a guaranty? 10. a bill of sale 11. obligations. chapter xix life insurance 1. a definition. 2. how it is done. 3. as an investment. 4. forms of life insurance. 5. mutual insurance. 6. amount of policies. 7. policies as security. 8. lapses. 9. proprietary companies. chapter xx insurance--fire--accident 1. like a gambling risk. 2. what is fire insurance? 3. premiums. 4. collecting. 5. insurable property. 6. mutual companies. 7. stock companies. 8. accident insurance. chapter xxi partnerships 1. defined. 2. prepare and sign. 3. silent partners. 4. nominal partners. 5. liability. 6. how to dissolve. 7. notice necessary. 8. a form. chapter xxii investments 1. what is an investment? 2. savings. 3. capitalists. 4. stockholders. 5. kinds of stocks. chapter xxiii bonds as investments 1. as to bonds. 2. sorts of bonds. 3. railroad bonds. 4. buying bonds. 5. requisite in a bond. chapter xxiv things to remember 1. don't deceive yourself. 2. be sure you are not losing. 3. weeding out old stock. 4. dropping worthless accounts. 5. let your wife know. 6. children and business. 7. farmers' sons. chapter xxv worth knowing 1. how title is acquired. 2. over-generosity. 3. care of wills. 4. care of all papers. 5. checks and stubs. 6. sending away money. 7. lost in mails. 8. more about notes. chapter xxvi look before you leap 1. as to receipts. 2. notes in bank. 3. well to know. 4. discharging liens. 5. prompt but not too prompt. 6. be in no haste to invest. 7. meet dues promptly. 8. counting money. 9. ready money. 10. in traveling. chapter xxvii contractions and signs 1. an alphabetical arrangement. chapter xxviii words and phrases used 1. defined and alphabetically arranged. introduction what is a good business man? "the rich man," you may answer. no, the good business man is the man who knows business. are you a good business man? "up to the average," you say. well, what do you know of business laws and rules, outside your present circle of routine work? now, this handy little volume is a condensation of the rules and the laws which every man, from the day laborer to the banker, should be familiar with. we have not put in everything about business, for that would require a library, instead of a book that can be read in a short day, and be consulted for its special information at any time. it isn't a question of the price of the book to you, or of the profit to the publisher. is it good? many a man has failed because he did not know the rules and laws herein given. never a man has won honestly who did not carry out these rules and laws. chapter i common sense farming the three things essential to all wealth production are land, labor, and capital. "the dry land" was created before there appeared the man, the laborer, to work it. with his bare hands the worker could have done nothing with the land either as a grazer, a farmer or a miner. from the very first he needed capital, that is, the tools to work the land. the first tool may have been a pole, one end hardened in the fire, or a combined hoe and axe, made by fastening with wythes, a suitable stone to the end of a stick; but no matter the kind of tool, or the means of producing it, it represented capital, and the man who owned this tool was a capitalist as compared with the man without any such appliance. from the land, with the aid of labor and capital, comes wealth, which in a broad way may be defined as something having an exchangeable value. before the appearance of money all wealth changed hands through barter. the wealth in the world to-day is immeasurably greater than all the money in it. the business of the world, particularly between nations, is still carried on through exchange, the balances being settled by money. money is a medium of exchange, and should not be confounded with wealth or capital; the latter is that form of wealth which is used with labor in all production. broadly speaking, wealth is of two kinds, dormant and active. the former awaits the development of labor and capital, the latter is the product of both. labor is human effort, in any form, used for the production of wealth. it is of two kinds--skilled and unskilled. the former may be wholly mental, the latter may be wholly manual. the successful farmer must be a skilled laborer, no matter the amount of his manual work. the unskilled farmer can never succeed largely, no matter how hard he works. trained hands with trained brains are irresistible. too many farmers live in the ruts cut by their great-greatgrandfathers. they still balance the corn in the sack with a stone. farming is the world's greatest industry. all the ships might be docked, all the factory wheels stopped, and all the railroads turned to streaks of rust, and still the race would survive, but let the plow lie idle for a year and man would perish as when the deluge swept the mountain tops. the next census will show considerably over 6,000,000 farms in the united states. farming is the greatest of all industries, as it is the most essential. our government has wisely made the head of the department of agriculture a cabinet officer, and the effect on our farming interest is shown in improved methods and a larger output of better quality. the hap-hazard, unskilled methods of the past are disappearing. science is lending her aid to the tiller of the soil, and the wise ones are reaching out their hands in welcome. business methods needed as farming is our principal business, it follows that those who conduct this vast and varied enterprise should be business men. the farmer is a producer of goods, and so might be regarded as a manufacturer,--the original meaning of the word is one who makes things by hand. he is also a seller of his own products, and a purchaser of the products of others, so that, to some extent, he may also be regarded as a trader or merchant. enterprise and business skill are the requisites of the manufacturer and merchant. can the farmer succeed without them? no business can prosper without method, economy, and industry intelligently applied. no man works harder the year round than does the american farmer, yet too many are going back instead of advancing. in such cases it will be found that there is enough hard work for better results, and that the cause of failure is that the industry has not been properly applied, and that economy has had no consideration. economy does not mean niggardliness, or a determination to get along without tools that your neighbor has purchased. a neglect to secure the best tool needed might be classed as an extravagance, a waste, if the tool in question could have added to the quality and quantity of the output, without the expenditure of more labor. business common-sense is taking the place of old-fashioned conservatism and scientific methods are no longer sneered at as "book-farming." chapter ii documents every farmer should understand all property implies an owner. property is of two kinds, real and personal. the former is permanent and fixed, the latter can be moved. every occupant of realty holds it through a deed, which carries with it sole ownership, or through a lease which carries with it the right to occupation and use in accordance with the conditions as to time and the amount to be paid, set forth in the written instrument. a deed carries with it sole ownership, a lease covers the right of use for a fixed period. as to deeds the purchaser of real estate, say a farm, should receive, from the person selling the property, a written instrument, or conveyance known as a deed. the deed must show clearly that the title to or interest in the property has been transferred from the seller to the buyer. before the deed is signed and delivered, the buyer should know that he is getting a clear title to the property described in the conveyance. in order to insure the accuracy of the title and thus avoid subsequent complications and perhaps lawsuits, the paper should be submitted to some good lawyer, or other person acquainted with real estate law and the methods by which titles are traced from the first owner to the present possessor. title abstracts in all the great business centers of the united states there are title guarantee companies, who for a consideration--to be paid by the seller--furnish an abstract of title, and insure its validity. in smaller places the local lawyers know how to make up an abstract and one should be employed. never trust the search of the inexperienced. an abstract of title is a memorandum taken from the records of the office where deeds are recorded, and showing the history of the title from the government up to the present time. the seller should furnish the buyer with a certificate from the proper county officer, showing whether or not all taxes have been paid up to the last assessment. in addition to this, before the money is paid and the deed accepted, the purchaser should be satisfied that there are no mortgages, liens, attachments or other claims against the property. if such claims exist and are known to the buyer, he may assume them as a condition of the sale. parties to a deed the person selling the land and making the deed is known in law as the grantor. the person buying the property is known as the grantee. a deed is a form of contract, and in order to have its terms and statements binding on the maker, he must be twenty-one years of age, or over, and he must be of sound mind. the grantee need not be twenty-one, nor of sound mind in order to make the terms of the deed binding on the grantor. in some states, if the grantor be a married man, his wife must sign the deed with him. this should be seen to, for without the wife's signature the grantee will not have a clear title, for the woman could still claim an interest in the property equal to her dower right. also, if the grantor is a woman, her husband, for the reasons given, should join with her in the execution of the deed. the preparation of a deed should not be left to the unskilled. different deeds there are three kinds of deeds, viz.: general warranty deeds, special warranty deeds, and quit-claim deeds. the general warranty deed, if it can be had, is the one every purchaser should get. in the general warranty deed the grantor agrees for himself, "his heirs, executors, administrators, and assigns," that at the time of making the deed he is lawfully in possession, "seized" is the legal term, of the estate described in the deed, that it is free from all incumbrance, and that he will warrant and defend the grantee and his heirs and assigns against all claims whatsoever. in the quit-claim deed the grantor conveys to the purchaser his interest in or right to the property under consideration. the quit-claim grantor does not guarantee the title to the property, nor warrant the grantee against any other claims. he simply, by the deed, quits his claim to the property. the special warranty deed covenants and warrants only against the acts of the grantor and those claiming title under him. making a deed after a deed is properly drawn, it is ready to be signed, sealed, and delivered to the grantee. if the wife of the grantor is to sign, her name should follow that of her husband. if one or both cannot write, the signature can be made in this way: his george x jones. mark. witness.............. in some states one or more witnesses are required to the signature of the grantor; in others, witnesses are not necessary, except where a "mark" is made. an important part of a deed is the acknowledgment. this is the act of acknowledging before a notary public, justice or other official properly qualified to administer an oath, that the signatures are genuine and made voluntarily. the acknowledgment having been taken, the official stamps the paper with his seal and signs it. in some states the law requires that a wax or paper seal be attached to the paper, while in others a circular scroll, made with the pen, with the letters "l.s." in the center answer the purpose. when the foregoing essentials are complied with the deed must be delivered to the grantee. the delivery is essential, for without it the deed is of no value, even though every other requisite be complied with. a deed may be made for land on which full payment has already been acknowledged, but if the grantor dies before the deed is delivered, then the deed has no legal value. a deed obtained by fraud, deceit or compulsion is void. recording deeds as soon as possible after the grantee has received the deed, he should have it recorded. in every county in the different states there is an officer, known as register or recorder, whose duty it is to enter in regular folios, or books, a copy of every deed or mortgage presented to him. the document then becomes a part of the county records. the grantee must pay the recording fees. anyone, on paying the fee for copying and certifying, can obtain a copy of any document that has been recorded in a register's office. if an original deed is lost, the certified copy of the register has all the legality of the original. all deeds and other papers of value should be carefully kept, so that they may be available, if needed. a small safe deposit box with a company that keeps such spaces for rent, is often a wise investment. keep all related papers in one package or envelope. if there is one lawyer who attends to all your legal business, he will be a good custodian of all papers of record, for he usually has a fireproof safe. chapter iii other forms of deeds--mortgages there is one condition under which the grantor does not turn over or deliver the deed to the grantee after it is made. this is known as a deed in escrow. a deed "delivered in escrow" is when the document is placed with a third party to be by him delivered to the grantee when a certain time has elapsed or certain conditions have been fulfilled. when the conditions have been complied with, the deed is given by its custodian to the grantee, which is as legal as if it were given by the grantor in person. trust deeds a trust deed is the form used to convey property to some person who is entitled to its proceeds or profits. this form of deed is often used to secure the payment of a debt. in some states they take the place of mortgages. where the trust deed is meant to take the place of a mortgage to secure a debt payment, the property is deeded to a third party known as a "trustee." the trustee in this case is the agent for debtor and creditor, and he must act impartially. the trust deed specifies the character of the debt to be secured. in case of failure to pay the debt as agreed on, the trustee may, if so warranted, sell the property, and pay the obligation from the proceeds. the grantor in a trust deed, if not stipulated to the contrary, is entitled to all the rents and profits of the property; for it remains virtually his, until he has failed to fill his contract. when the indebtedness secured by the trust deed has been paid, the trustee must at once execute a paper known to law as a release deed. when recorded this instrument discharges the lien. as to mortgages mortgages are of two kinds, real and chattel. the first is a lien on real estate, the second on personal property. a mortgage may be defined as a conveyance of property, personal or real, as security for the payment of a debt, or it may be given as a guarantee for the performance of some particular duty. mortgage forms when a mortgage is given as security for the payment of a debt, the rule is to give a note for the payment of the amount involved. the mortgage becomes in this case the security for the note's payment. in the body of the note it must be stated that it is secured by mortgage. the date of the note and mortgage should be the same. the man who mortgages his property is the mortgagor. the man to whom the mortgage is given is the mortgagee. the form of the mortgage is the same as that of a deed, except that it contains a clause called the defeasance, which states that when the obligation has been met the document shall be void. mortgages must be recorded the forms for "signing, sealing and delivering" a mortgage, are the same as with a deed. a mortgage must be recorded the same as a deed, the mortgagee paying the fees. chattel mortgages are filed and recorded in the same way, except that it is not usual to make copies of the instrument. they are described in books prepared for the purpose. a wife need not join her husband in making the note secured by a mortgage, but if she agrees to the transaction it is necessary for her to sign the mortgage; however, some states do not require this. payments often a life insurance policy is used as security for the payment of a mortgage. the mortgagee, if there be buildings on the property, should see that the buildings are insured and that the policy or policies are made out in his name. if the insurance policy is in the mortgagor's name he may collect and keep the insurance money. the mortgagor must meet, as stipulated, every payment of the principal and interest. failure to meet one payment can result in a legal foreclosure. when a payment is made, the date and the amount must be entered on the back of the note. this should be done in the presence of the mortgagor. if possible always pay the obligation by check. if a payment is accepted on a mortgage and the amount is not sufficient to meet the sum required, the interest is first settled in full, the rest is credited to the principal. when the full amount, with interest, is paid in, it becomes the duty of the mortgagee to have the mortgage "discharged." a complete settlement is when, all payments being made, the mortgagee surrenders the note and its security, and causes to be written by the register, on the margin of the copy in his books, the words, "discharged," or "satisfied," affixing thereto his official signature and the date. assignments a mortgage is regarded in law as personal property. a mortgage need not remain in the hands of the mortgagee in order to be valid. it can be sold like bonds, stocks or other property, and there are men who deal only in that form of security. in order to sell a mortgage, the owner must make, to the purchaser, what is known as an "assignment of mortgage." the assignment should be recorded in the same way as the original mortgage, the assignee paying the fee. redemption of mortgages while the rule as to the redemption of mortgages remains the same in some localities that it formerly was, the law in most places is now more lenient. now the mortgagor who has failed is usually given by law an extension of time in which to make good the payment of principal and interest. lenders, when the interest is met, are content to let the mortgage run on as an investment, though it will often be found, in such cases, that it is better to make a new mortgage. equity of redemption where the payments on a mortgage have not been met and the instrument has not been foreclosed, the mortgagor has still what is known as an "equity of redemption." in some states after the foreclosure of the mortgage and the sale of the property there is still a period of redemption of from sixty days to six years. the mode of foreclosure differs in some states. the usual method is to foreclose on an order from the court, and to have the sale conducted by a court officer. the proceeds from the sale are used to pay the principal, interests and costs. if there is money left over it is paid to the mortgagor, whose interests in the property are then at an end. many people, not familiar with business methods, are inclined to regard a mortgage as something of a disgrace, when, as a matter of fact it is a most usual and honorable means of raising money for the securing of a home or the conducting of a business. nearly all of the great railroads of the country have been built by the sale of the mortgage bonds, which are usually renewed when due, and are sought out as a safe and sane form of investment. the fact that a mortgage payment has to be met on a farm is often in itself the strongest inducement to industry and economy. chapter iv wills whether farmer, manufacturer, merchant or professional man, and whether in youth, mid-age or declining years, every owner of personal or real property, or both, should make a will. if you have not made a will, get over the foolish notion that it is a premonition of death, and do so at once. a will is a written and signed declaration of the disposition one wishes to have made of his property in the event of his death. the maker of a valid will must be of sound mind and not less than twenty-one years of age. women, whether married or single, if of proper age, are competent to make a will. of two kinds a will may be written or unwritten. unwritten wills are known as "nun-cupative." nun-cupative wills are employed only when through accident, or sudden seizure by a fatal disease, the time necessary to write and sign a will cannot be had. the unwritten will must be authenticated by reliable and unprejudiced witnesses, and generally it can dispose of personal property only. in the written will no precise form is necessary, though when drawn by a lawyer it usually begins with some such form as: "i, george brown, being of sound mind and good understanding, do make and declare this to be my last will and testament", etc. a will is not necessarily permanent. it may be cancelled or changed in any way by the maker before his death, or a new will can be made. the last will cancels all preceding wills. an addition to an existing will is known as a "codicil." a man making a will is called a testator. a woman making a will is called a testatrix. limitations of wills a man has a right to dispose of his property by will or gift as he chooses, but if he is married the law compels him to consider the rights of another. the husband cannot, by will or otherwise, deprive his wife of her "right of dower" in his real estate and appurtenances. unless she chooses to accept, the wife need not accept other property that is bequeathed her in lieu of dower. the wife's dower interest in her husband's estate is a life interest only. on her death it goes to the husband's heirs, as if there had been no widow. in some states there is no right of dower. how to make a will the will not only shows the purpose of the testator, but it serves as a bar to litigation among the natural heirs. any man or woman can write out his or her will, but unless quite familiar with such work it is better to employ a lawyer for the purpose. the person named in the will to carry out the purpose of the testator is known as the "executor". no person, not twenty-one at the time the will is proved can act as an executor. neither a convict, an imbecile, nor one known to be a drug fiend or an habitual drunkard, is eligible for the post of an executor. if an executor be appointed against his will, the law does not compel him to serve. there must be at least two witnesses to a will, some states require three. the witnesses need not know the contents of the will, but they must understand before signing that it is a will, and they must see it signed by the testator. under the common law the will is void if the witnesses are beneficiaries. in some states a will so witnessed is valid, except that the witnesses cannot receive their legacies. all the witnesses should sign at the same time and add their addresses. if an heir at law, say a child, is not mentioned in the will, the law assumes that he was forgotten by the testator and generally gives the share the heir would be entitled to if there were no will. at the end of the will the testator, in the presence of the witnesses, should write his name in full. an executor's duties an executor is the legal representative of the testator. it is his duty to see that the provisions of the will are carried out. no man is qualified to act as executor who is not competent to make a will. executors, unless relieved by the provisions of the will, are required to file bonds, proportioned to the value of the estate, for the faithful performance of their duties. should there be no executor named in the will, or if the person so named refuses to act, or if he dies or resigns, the court will appoint a person to act in his place. the executor appointed by the court is known or called an "administrator with the will annexed." in some states the court having jurisdiction of wills and estates of deceased is known as "the probate," in others it is called the "surrogate's court," and in still others, "the orphan's." administrators and their duties if a man, owning property, dies without making a will, the judge of the proper court will appoint an administrator to settle the estate. this is the method of procedure: 1. a person, interested in getting the estate settled, goes before the proper judge and asks him to appoint an administrator. 2. the administrator must give the same bond as an executor. their duties are the same. 3. in settling the estate the administrator is governed by the law, and by the special directions of the officer having jurisdiction in such matters. 4. he must make a careful list of all the property belonging to the estate. the value of the personal property is estimated by men specially appointed by the court for the purpose and known as "appraisers". 5. the administrator must account for every item of property that comes into his possession. 6. all debts of deceased must be first paid, including funeral expenses. if the proceeds of the personal property are not sufficient for this purpose, the administrator may, if there be real estate, sell the whole or part of it, on an order from the court. debts debts must be paid in an order prescribed by law. the following is the usual order: 1. funeral expenses and expenses of last illness. 2. the widow's allowance or award. 3. debts due the state or municipality. 4. claims of other creditors. whatever property is left, after paying these obligatory sums, is divided among the rightful heirs under the direction of the court, and in the manner provided by law. the administrator must advertise, in one or more county papers the fact that he has been appointed to settle the estate of the deceased, whose name is given, and he must ask that all claims be presented within a given period, usually fixed at six months. when the estate is settled to the satisfaction of the court, the same authority releases the administrator and his bondsmen. all the fees connected with the settlement are regarded as debts and must be paid from the proceeds of the estate before closing. the final settlement when the debts are paid and the residue divided among the heirs, the administrator files his account. if it is allowed the case ends. the parties of interest in an estate may agree to settle it out of court. this saves expense, but it is not the safest way. chapter v letter writing what has been said about deeds and mortgages applies not only to the farmer, but also to every owner of a building lot. the same may be said of wills. they have a business interest for the town as well as for the country dweller. business letters the purpose of this book being "strictly business," no attempt will be made to instruct the reader in anything not connected with the subject under consideration. social, friendly, and such letters are matters for individual time and taste, and no rule can be laid down for their writing, but the business letter is a different matter, and one which deserves special consideration from every man or woman who receives an order by mail, or who sends one. to write a good business letter is no mean accomplishment, and although a gift with some, it can be acquired by all. a letter is, in a way, a testimonial of the character and ability of the writer. the purpose of a business letter is to express just what you want and no more. any man with a good common school education, and a little patient practice, can soon learn to write as good a business letter as the college graduate. correct spelling may not be general, but it is certainly desirable. letter writing, as in the preparation of other papers, has its own well-recognized forms, and these may be easily learned. every properly constructed business letter should consist of the following parts: 1. where written from. 2. when written. 3. to whom written. 4. address. 5. salutation. 6. introduction. 7. purpose of letter. 8. complimentary ending. 9. signature. the heading the letter should begin by giving the address of the writer, followed by the date on which it was written. this will enable the recipient to direct his reply. if from a city, the street and number should be given. if many letters are written it will be convenient to have the permanent address of the writer printed. the writing should be plain, and there should be no doubt in the mind of the reader as to the proper spelling of the address and signature. avoid the hieroglyphics which some vain men adopt in signing their names. it may be fanciful, but it does not imply consideration for the time and patience of strangers. the following forms will serve to illustrate the type of heading used in ordinary business letters: 1 124 smith st., brownsville, mass. september 4, 1910. mr. john smith, doylestown, penna. dear sir: 2 leroy, mass., september 5, 1910. messrs. brown and jones, denver, col. gentlemen: 3 4 seminole st., fort smith, ark. september 6, 1910. mrs. mary j. robinson, lansing, cal. dear madam: the "mr.," "mrs.," "madam," and "miss" are titles of courtesy and should not be omitted. the abbreviation "esq." for esquire is sometimes used; but the two titles mr. and esq. should never be used with one name, as "mr. john smith, esq." if a man is known by a military or other title, always use it, but never precede it with "mr." nor follow it with "esq." clergymen should always be addressed as "rev.," the abbreviation for reverend. if he is a doctor of divinity, add d.d. to the name, as "rev. john smith, d.d." medical doctors may be addressed as "dr. john smith," or "john smith, m.d." the greeting the greeting or salutation is a term of courtesy or esteem used in addressing the one to whom the letter is sent. "sir" is the formal greeting, and is used in addressing officials, or any strange male person. "sirs," or "gentlemen" may be used in the plural. "dear sir," or "my dear sir," is the usual form of greeting when a business letter is addressed to an individual. where the writer is acquainted with the person addressed, the usual form of greeting is "dear mr. smith." the letter itself if writing in response to a letter received, the writer should begin in some such way as this: mr. thomas brown, newburg, n. y. my dear sir: your favor of the second inst. is just to hand. in reply permit me to state, etc., etc. this should be followed by the necessary statement, set forth in clear, simple words. be sure of yourself. the secret of good writing is clear thinking. ending the letter there is much in the proper ending of a letter. in the ordinary business letter the usual ending may be, "yours truly," "yours very truly," or "yours respectfully." other endings used in writing to business acquaintances are, "yours sincerely," or "very sincerely yours," or you may substitute the words "cordially" or "heartily" for "sincerely." signing the letter the name of the writer should be so clear and distinct as to leave no doubt as to the spelling. the name should always be written in the same way. if your name is george w. brown, do not write it at one time as here given, and again as g. washington brown, or g. w. brown. adopt one form and stick to it. if you are writing for a firm or for another as clerk or secretary, always sign the firm name, and below it your own name preceded by the word "per," meaning "by" or "through." the materials never use scraps of paper or soiled paper to write on if better can be had. the materials of a letter affect the receiver, particularly if a stranger, just as one is affected by the garb of a stranger before he speaks. use a good pen and black ink. fold your paper so that it will fit the envelope. avoid blots and erasures; they indicate carelessness or unbecoming haste. address your letter distinctly. here is a good form: mr. george w. white, boston, 1101 sioux st. mass. letters of introduction at some time or another one has to write a letter of introduction, and sometimes he has had to pay for it. if you should give such a letter to a man to introduce him to another with whom you trade, the law has held that the introducer is responsible for any reasonable bills the introduced may contract with the receiver of the letter. never give a letter of introduction to a man you are not sure of. in addressing a letter of introduction which is to be handed in person, do it in this way: mr. george w. brown, washington, d. c. introducing mr. henry wilson. this shows on its face the nature of the communication. here is a good form: 111 payne ave., montrose, ill. september 27, 1910. mr. norman r. lloyd, chicago, ill. dear mr. lloyd: this will introduce my esteemed friend mr. thomas t. fletcher, of this town. mr. fletcher contemplates opening a drug store in chicago. should he do so he will prove an acquisition to your city. any favor you can render him will be much appreciated by, yours faithfully, george w. brown. recommendations every man of standing and every employer of labor is at times called on to certify to the character, or to give a testimonial to some esteemed employee who is about to seek his fortune in another place. if you are about to hire a stranger, it adds to your confidence and to his chances if he have a testimonial as to character and fitness from his last employer, or from some man whose word you value. the letter of recommendation is usually of a general character and not addressed to any particular. it should open in this way: "to whom it may concern." follow this with your testimonial and sign it. titles the president of the united states is addressed as: "his excellency," william h. taft, executive mansion, washington, d. c. cabinet officers, senators, congressmen, members of the legislature, and mayors of cities are usually addressed as "hon.," the abbreviation of honorable. the title "hon." like "esq." is often misused. after all titles of courtesy are not obligatory, unless we regard the unwritten law of custom in such matters as binding. the very best kind of a letter, and perhaps the hardest to write, is that in which the writer appears to be talking to us face to face. chapter vi bills, receipts and accounts try to understand clearly the meaning of all the business terms you have to use. the terms "bill" and "invoice" usually mean the same thing, that is, a "bill of sale." this applies to goods sold, or services rendered. the merchant sends you an itemized invoice of the goods you ordered and he has shipped. the carpenter sends you an itemized bill of the work done by your order. such a document should be regarded not as a "dun," but rather as a record of the contract or transaction. in the foregoing case the merchant and the carpenter are the creditors, the recipient of the goods or work is the debtor. bills for goods in writing out a bill the date is the first thing to be considered. this should be the same in form as a business letter. this form will serve as an illustration: glenwood, n. j. october 1, 1910. robert brown to george l. white, dr. sept 2. for 25 lbs. sugar, at .06 . . .$1.50 " 6. " 30 lbs. ham, at .20 . . . . 6.00 " 14. " 100 lbs. flour, at .03-1/2 . 3.50 --- received payment, $11.00 signature on payment wholesale houses send such bills as soon as the goods are shipped or delivered, though the payment, as per agreement, is not to be made for thirty, sixty or ninety days. where there is a running account, that is, frequent orders, with total payments never completed, it is customary for the seller, at the beginning of a calendar month to send to the creditor a "statement." this statement does not repeat the items of the bills rendered, its purpose being to show the balance due to date. bills for labor where a mechanic or laborer is employed by the day at a fixed wage, the length of time and dates should be given. richmond, va. november 3, 1910. charles m. pratt, to john smith, dr. to 4 days, from oct. 1st to 4th inclusive, at $2.00..........$8.00 to 2 1/2 days, oct. 10th, 11th and 12th.................... 5.00 to 3 days, oct. 17th, 18th and 19th ....................... 6.00 ----- received payment, $19.00 signature. this bill is just as transferable as a mortgage. if for any reason mr. smith should decide to sell it, say to robert brown, he should make the following endorsement across the back: "in consideration of -----dollars, the receipt of which is hereby acknowledged, i do hereby sell and assign to robert brown, the written account, which is justly due from the within named charles w. pratt, and i hereby authorize the said robert brown to collect the same. "john smith." "newburg, n. y. november 1, 1910." regarded simply from a business viewpoint and without considering ethics, "honesty is the best policy." bills, where possible, should be promptly paid. prompt payment is a guarantee of credit and credit is the heart if not the soul of business. never, if it can be avoided, buy goods on the installment plan. be sure to get a receipt for all payments you make, and be equally sure to keep the receipt where you can find it. examine all bills and invoices; compare them with the goods received, and no matter what your faith in the seller's care and honesty, calculate for yourself the price of each item, and be sure that the total is correct. discount in trade it is a business custom, when a bill is paid before it is due, to allow a discount. this may be the legal rate of interest, or any percentage agreed on in advance. sometimes wholesale merchants or manufacturers grant esteemed customers, in consideration of prompt payments, a discount from the regular prices. this is known as "trade discount." we often read of two or more discounts. a store keeper buys a bill of goods for $350 and is granted 20% and 5% from the selling price. this does not mean a discount of 25% as the uninitiated might think. the 20% is deducted from the $350, that is, $70, leaving $280. then the 5%, $14, is deducted from this, leaving $260. partial payments are not endorsed on the bill. the receipt is written on a separate piece of paper. it differs from the usual receipt in that the one is "in full payment" and the other "on account." receipt no bill before it is actually paid. some one has translated the letters "c. o. d." into "come omejitly down." the collect on delivery usually accompanies goods sent by express. forms of receipts a receipt for a partial payment: leavenworth, kansas. december 7, 1910. $75.00 received from charles long seventy-five dollars on account. henry s. somers. a receipt in full: san diego, cal. july 27, 1910. $260.75 received from n. o. taylor, two hundred and sixty 75-100 dollars, in full payment to date. samuel g. novris. another form: portland, me. october 20, 1910. $40.00 received from thomas moore, ten cords of hardwood, at $4.00 a cord, the sum to be applied to his account. daniel forman. in payment of rent: $17.00 received from william forbes seventeen dollars in full payment of rent of premises no. 24 west street, for the month ending october 31, 1910. philip f. ross. where one person pays for another: wilmington, del. august 17, 1910. $80.00 received from alfred thompson eighty dollars to apply to the account of hiram o. wells. baker jones & co., per, s. n. thorp. receipts and other documents signed with a mark x should be witnessed. payment on a note: bridgeport, conn. july 1, 1910. $150.00 received from casper n. work one hundred and fifty dollars to apply on the payment of his note to me for six hundred dollars, dated march 8, 1910. ruben hoyt. the maker of the note should, in addition to getting his receipt, have the amount of his payment endorsed on the back of the note by the holder. where a receipt is given to the administrator of an estate his position should be named as "robert fields, administrator of the estate of john jones, deceased." what is an order? an order is a command or instruction by one person to another to do a stated thing. an order may be given for the delivery of goods or the payment of cash. this is the usual form: dayton, ohio. august 3, 1910. mr. g. w. mcbride: please deliver to edward lott goods from your store to the amount of ten dollars, and charge to my account. f. t. leroy. this would be an order for cash: holden, ind. june 18, 1910. $30.00 mr. p. t. mayhew. please pay to thomas jackson thirty dollars and charge same to my account. f. r. wilson. a due bill the customary form of a due bill is: durham, n. c. may 1, 1910. $10.00 due george smith ten dollars, payable in merchandise from my store. s. t. long. chapter vii who should keep accounts to have any value, business accounts, whether of a great or a small concern, must be accurately kept. every man and woman, having unsettled dealings with others, should keep some sort of book accounts. storekeepers must keep accounts, and every farmer and mechanic, who would know just what he owns and what he has spent during the past month and year, should keep an exact account of every cent received and paid out. lawyers and doctors know how to keep accounts, or if they do not they are neglecting their own side of their professional duties. workers, skilled and unskilled, and even the hired girl who is paid by the month, should keep a record of the compensation received, and how the whole or the part has been expended. no woman can be called a really good housekeeper who does not know to a penny what has become of the money she has received for the upkeep of her establishment, whether she have a score of servants or does all her own work. in order to keep such accounts, as have just been indicated, it is not necessary to be a trained bookkeeper, or to know anything more about the art than a good common school education gives. another word as to the farmer. i am not thinking in this connection of the old-time, deep-in-the-ruts farmer, who never learns and knows nothing to forget, but of that wide-awake producer who tries to keep up with the times. not only should the farmer keep cash accounts, the form may be quite simple, but all his business affairs should be kept in the best possible trim. personal agreements without some kind of writing to back them up, are dangerous. verbal contracts feed the lawyers. all transactions involving labor or money should be recorded in black and white. don't trust to your memory. don't rely on the memory of another. an account with crops every farmer should keep an account with each crop he raises and even with every field he cultivates. against the farm should be charged-1. its annual rental value. 2. what all the labor would cost if hired. 3. new machinery. 4. wear, tear and repair of old machinery. 5. taxes. 6. insurance. 7. doctor's bills. 8. interest on mortgage if any. 9. the cost of fodder, fuel, etc., consumed. the farm should be credited with-1. the rent. 2. the cost of everything produced and consumed on place. 3. the farm products sold. 4. the stock sold. 5. increased value of stock. 6. increased value of property, if any. such accounts you say will cause trouble; well, you cannot do anything of value without trouble. the question is will the effort pay? those who keep such accounts say it does, and they are usually the successful, progressive farmers. working-men's accounts the working man, skilled or unskilled, and the working man's wife as well, should keep some form of cash book that will show from week to week the receipts and expenditures. one can be thrifty without being miserly. where did the money go? look at your book, where every cent expended has been set down, and you will be surprised to find how the little sums total up. look over the list of little things bought and you will be surprised to see how many were not needed. here is a simple form for a home record: cash received 1910. jan. 2. balance on hand.........$45.50 " 3. work for mr. jones....... 1.75 " 3. smith paid bill......... 13.75 " 9. work for mr. brown....... 7.50 cash paid 1910. jan. 2. two shirts...............$1.50 " 3. to wife for house........ 8.50 " 4. doctor c's. bill......... 6.00 " 5. fare to troy............. 2.25 " 6. horse car................ .20 " 6. postage.................. .06 " 7. church contribution...... 1.00 " 8. shoes mended............. 0.60 " 9. newspaper bill........... 1.00 never "lump" what you receive or what you spend. set down each item separately, even to one cent. when you have filled out each page of "received" and "paid" foot it up and carry it to the next page set apart for the purpose. an account book will cost but a few cents. use the left-hand side for receipts and the right for expenditures. at any time the excess of the left hand over the right should show the amount on hand. strike a balance at least once a month. other records never mix up another's accounts with your own. john smith, treasurer of some church, society, or club, is a different person before the law from john smith, the trader or mechanic. funds not your own, and which may be added to or decreased from time to time, as in the case of a society, say like the odd fellows, should be kept in the bank not as john smith's but as the funds of "john smith, treasurer of washington lodge 110, independent order of odd fellows," or whatever the name of the society, club, or church may be. in the same way, "a treasurer's book" should be kept and all the receipts and expenditures carefully recorded. copies if a business proposition is made to another by mail, or if you hand another in writing your proposition as to a certain contract you are willing to undertake, for the consideration named, be sure to keep a copy of the letter or contract; such a precaution may save trouble. chapter viii as to banks no instrument of trade has done so much or is more essential to the safe and progressive business of the world today than the bank. every department of business, in our modern civilization, must keep in touch with the bank. money is the blood of trade and the banking system is its heart. the bank is as necessary to the thrifty farmer as it is to the greatest railroad or the most wide-spread trust. banks are depositories for money not in circulation. banks have facilities for the safe-guarding of money which the ordinary business man could not provide for himself. instead of running the risk of paying bills with money carried about on his person, the business man, and every man with ready money should follow his example, deposits his money in a convenient bank, for which he receives a proper voucher in the shape of a credit in a deposit book. when he pays a bill, he draws a check for the amount, payable to the order of his creditor. this check, when endorsed by the receiver and paid by the bank, is in itself a receipt for the money. national banks as i propose to say something about savings banks in another chapter, the present will be devoted to what are known as "banks of deposit." banks of deposit are either national, state, or private. a national bank is, as the name implies, chartered and incorporated by the government, with special privileges and restrictions. the government in the organizing of national banks had in mind the protection of the public without unduly limiting the profit of the stockholders. the sum the stockholders must contribute to the establishment of a national bank varies according to the population and the business importance of the place in which the bank is to be located. the capital must exist in a prescribed form. certain forms of investment are prohibited, as for instance the ownership of real estate, except under certain restrictions. this is done that the national bank may be able to convert its securities into cash in the shortest order. in consideration of a prescribed amount of united states bonds, deposited with the treasury in washington, the government issues to the national bank a prescribed sum in printed bank notes of varying denominations. if the bank should close for any reason, the bank notes or their equivalent must be returned, when the bonds deposited as security are released. every bank must have a board of directors, a president and a cashier. receiving and paying tellers, with bookkeepers, and many clerks are necessary to carry on the business of a large bank. in addition, the national banks are under the supervision of regularly appointed government inspectors. a national bank may fail, but its notes are still "as good as gold." banks as lenders the bank not only receives money on deposit, but it loans money under certain conditions. many merchants, builders, contractors and others often find it necessary to borrow money in order to carry on their business successfully. if a man's business reputation is good, and the banks keep well posted in such matters, he may secure a loan on his own note, though even in such cases the name of a good endorser is required. if in addition to his note the borrower can offer security in the way of bonds of good character, or other reliable collateral, he can usually be accommodated. of course, the banks charge interest for loans. they also make collections on notes and other commercial paper and they issue foreign and domestic bills of exchange. every man with a sum large or small in excess of his expenditures, should open a bank account. even if not in business this will encourage thrift and lead to good business habits. interest on deposits some banks, particularly those known as "state" or "private," and national banks in smaller communities, allow interest on deposits. this interest varies with the demand for money, but in the eastern states it seldom goes over four per cent. it is well to know when interest begins and ends. if the dates set by the bank for reckoning interest are the first day of january, april, july and october, money deposited march 31st will begin to draw interest next day, but if deposited april 2nd, it would not begin to draw interest till july 1st. but if you have the money and would insure its safety, deposit it at once regardless of time or interest. if a depositor withdraws his money before the day when interest is due, he forfeits the interest. but banks vary as to that. check and deposit books every depositor is given a book in which the teller or cashier credits him on the left-hand side with the amount deposited. other deposits are treated in the same way, and at proper times, if interest is allowed, it is added as a deposit. the depositor can provide his own check book, and have it printed in any color he pleases, with the name of himself and business on the margin. the bank, however, will supply loose bank checks of its own, or it may provide them in book form, with stubs, or a space on which the number, amount and purpose of the check may be noted for the drawer's information. "writing up" of the deposit book is leaving it with the proper officer at the bank--a receipt for the book is never taken. it is returned with all the checks received, and their amount footed up on the right hand or debit page, and the balance on hand shown. every depositor should know from the record on the check stubs exactly how his account stands with the bank. take care that you do not overdraw. keep your own record of your own money. commercial deposit banks in the commercial banks of our large cities no interest is allowed, nor could it be easily calculated where a score of deposits may be made in a week and a hundred checks drawn in a day. the depositor in such a bank is free to check out his funds as he pleases. before opening an account there is more than money needed from the depositor. if unknown, he must satisfy the bank of his character, which is best done through the introduction of one known to both. some banks make a charge for deposits, where a man makes a convenience of them by depositing money which he checks out in a short time. a depositor, when opening an account with a bank is required to place his signature in a book kept for the purpose. until the bank officer, the paying teller, becomes familiar with the signature on the check, he verifies it by comparing it with that in the book. how to prepare a check a check may be defined to be "a written order on a bank directing it to pay a certain sum of money to the person named in the check or to his order, and signed by a depositor." so long as the purpose is clearly conveyed in the writing no particular form of words is necessary, nor need the paper on which the check is written be the regular printed form properly filled in. the "drawer" is the one who makes the check. the "payee" is the one for whom the check is made. in making a check, the best plan is to fill out the stub first, and from the data on it make out the check. this tends to accuracy. be sure to number your check, beginning with i. be sure that the number on the stub is the same as on the check. a person having money in bank and wishing to draw for his own use, makes his check payable to "self" or to "cash." usual form of check: first national bank. no. 27 kingston, vt., oct. 13, 1910. pay to order of john smith seventy-five 75/100 -----dollars. $75.75 george f. brown. it is proper form to specify on the face of the check the purpose for which it is given, but while this is permissible it is not usual. write the amount of the check first in words then in figures. this makes more certain the amount. always begin first word of amount close to left-hand side of check; when the whole sum is written down draw a heavy stroke along the line to the word "dollars." when a check is made payable to john smith or order, john smith must sign his name on the back of the check--left-hand end and about an inch from the top. never sign a check until you are ready to collect, or to bank it. the payee can endorse the check to another by writing on the back as follows: pay to the order of thomas brown. john smith. a check payable to "bearer" may be negotiated by any one. when such checks are presented by a stranger, at the bank of the maker, the paying teller always insists that the stranger be identified. never make a check payable to "bearer" if it can be avoided. sometimes checks are dated ahead, for reasons satisfactory to the maker and payee. a check drawn on august 5th, but dated august 20th cannot be collected till the latter date. never date a check ahead unless you are positive that you will have the money in bank to meet it on the day named. never, if you can avoid it in trade, receive a post-dated check. cash or deposit your checks as soon as possible after they are received. if the bank should fail, while you are holding the check, the maker cannot be held for the loss. certificates of deposit often when a depositor is travelling, he finds it convenient to carry with him a form of paper that is as good as cash, and much better in the event of loss. banks will issue "certified checks" to depositors. these checks are stamped by the bank "certified" with the date and officer's signature attached. on issuing such a check, the bank debits the receiver's account with the amount, and so can guarantee the payment whenever or wherever presented. such a check may be received with as much certainty of its value as if it were a bank bill. when a person places money in a bank with no intention of checking it out for some time to come, he may have issued to him a "certificate of deposit." while holding this certificate he cannot check against the money in the bank. the holder of a certificate of deposit may transfer it. the money may be paid in part by the bank, if the certificate is presented, and the amount is endorsed on the back. to withdraw all the money the certificate must be surrendered. use of checks there is no form of commercial paper in such general use as the check. the total of all the checks in use at some seasons is far more than the total of all the money in all the banks. checks are balanced in the money centers through what are known as clearing houses. in these a bank is charged with checks against it and credited with those in its favor. the differences are settled by cash. often a few thousand dollars will settle check accounts amounting to millions. if by any chance you should receive a check in which your name is misspelled, or not given as you write it, endorse the check exactly as the name is written on the face, then add your name in the regular way. chapter ix savings banks while of national importance, savings banks are chartered by the respective states in which they exist, and as such are distinctly local institutions. unlike the national, the savings bank is not established as a money-making corporation. the ostensible and actual purpose of the savings bank is to encourage people of small means to save. the savings bank provides a safe place for the care of such deposits, and it pays such rates of interest on such deposits as are warranted by the earnings of its investments after paying the expenses incident to the proper conduct of its officers. when a savings bank receives authorization to act, through a charter from the state, the organizers choose a board of directors and the proper officers. usually the officers occupying positions of trust and responsibility are required to give bonds for the proper discharge of their duties. how business is conducted with all the legal conditions complied with, and a suitable office provided, the savings bank is ready for business. some savings banks will receive on deposit any sum from five cents to five thousand dollars. other banks will not receive less than one dollar at a time, nor more than a thousand. we have heard of "penny savings banks," but they are rarely chartered, and are organized, only to encourage thrift among children. fractional parts of a dollar are not usually reckoned as drawing interest. some banks require as much as three, four or five dollars before allowing interest. savings banks in the eastern states pay from three to four per cent. in the west it is sometimes as high as six. each bank has certain dates at which calculation of interest begins. as a rule this is january 1st, april 1st, july 1st, and october 1st. money deposited at any time between these dates does not draw interest till the beginning of the next quarter. but never mind the interest. the best time to make a deposit is when you have the money. the bank is safer than your pocket. how to deposit count your money carefully and make a memorandum of the amount before giving to the savings bank to deposit. hand the money to the officer--usually "the receiving teller"-authorized to receive it. the teller writes down the name, age, occupation and residence of the depositor. if money is deposited in the name of one under legal age, the names of the parents and the birthplace of the minor are also recorded. the adult depositor must write his name in a book provided by the bank for the signature of clients. when these conditions are complied with, the depositor receives a memorandum book, known as a "deposit book", in which, with his name and date, is written the amount of his first deposit. the deposit book must be carefully guarded, for without its presentation at the savings bank money cannot be drawn. you cannot check against your savings bank account, as with a commercial bank. how the account grows after the first account is opened the rest is easy. on the second, as on all subsequent visits, the deposit book, with the amount to be entered, is handed to the receiving teller. he counts the money, makes a record of it for his own use, enters it on your book as a deposit, and hands the book back. that is all. whenever interest is due it is written down in the book as if it were a cash deposit. the interest, if desired, will be paid in cash, but if allowed to remain, it begins at once to earn interest for itself. interest grows like a rolling snow ball. on such small beginnings great fortunes have been built. savings banks keep a reserve, made up of earnings in excess of interest and all expenses. this reserve earns money. the money so earned is reckoned as a net profit, and it may be distributed, and usually is, among its depositors as a "dividend." the limit of deposit different banks have different limits of deposit, that is fixed sums beyond which they will not receive. the limit is from one thousand to five thousand dollars. when the fortunate depositor has reached the limit with one savings bank, there is no law to prevent his opening another account with another, or with any number of similar banks. remember the savings banks are not meant for capitalists, but for small depositors. after deposits and interests have reached a total of $1,600, the interest will not go on earning interest, but will be regarded simply as a deposit. this is in compliance with law. depositors, posted as to the law, open another account with another bank, and keep on till the interest limit is reached. how to draw money a savings bank depositor may either draw money himself or through some properly authorized person. this is the method: the deposit book is presented to the paying teller. the owner states the sum he wants to draw. having assured himself that the bearer of the book is the right person, the teller takes a receipt in a book kept for the purpose, for the amount, enters the same on the right hand or debit side of the book, and hands out the money. there is a form of authorization for another to draw, printed on the deposit book. this must be copied and its directions complied with. most banks will not allow depositors to draw out less than a fixed sum, say $5.00. this saves trouble, and prevents thoughtless depositors from going to the bank every time they want a dollar. before a depositor can draw a large sum from a savings bank he may be compelled, under the law, to give from one week to six weeks' notice of his intention. this provision may not prevent a run on the bank, but it gives the managers time to provide for it. read the rules in the deposit book. how savings banks earn how can a bank that does not discount notes or deal in loans and commercial paper earn money? how can it pay interest? while they may be individually small, the aggregate of all the deposits in a savings bank may, and often do, amount to many millions. this money is not allowed to lie idle. under the skilled direction of the bank officers, the money, instead of lying idle in the vaults, is invested in many ways, but always in accordance with the laws of the state under which the bank is chartered. much of the money is invested in mortgages on real estate, never on personal property. national bank stocks, sound railroad bonds, and other forms of reliable interest security are fields for the investment of savings bank funds. savings banks are subject to the periodic inspection of state officers appointed for the purpose. the failure of a savings bank through bad investments or the dishonesty of officials is very rare. avoid all banks that promise more than the regular rate of interest. private banks may be, and usually are, honestly conducted, but to be safe, deposit only with a bank that is regularly chartered and is subject to the inspection of the law. the savings bank is the best for the wage earner. chapter x notes--drafts the promissory note is a most useful kind of commercial paper, and it is in general use in business. if a man has not sufficient ready cash to pay for the real estate he is about to purchase, he makes up the difference by a note, which note is secured by a mortgage on the property. remember the mortgage must always be regarded as security. the note represents the debt. often wholesalers take a note as part or even full payment for a bill of goods to a retailer. if the wholesaler needs money, he endorses these notes and putting them in his bank draws against them, less the discount he has to pay for the accommodation. as has been shown, an account may be transferred and sold, but a note is more convenient for that purpose. an illustration as with a check the maker of a note is known as a "drawer," the person in whose favor it is drawn is the "payee." notes may be written in pencil, but it is better and safer to write with ink on good paper. supposing you buy a team of horses, or it may be a bill of goods, from john brown, for $350. now you have only $100 in cash. what are you to do? mr. brown, knowing you to be reliable, says: "that's all right, friend jones. you pay me the $100 cash for which i will give you a receipt, then i will take your note for six months, payable at my bank." you agree to this; pay out the money, make and deliver the note and take the property in question, which is now yours as much as it had been his before the transfer. the following would be a legal form in which to make the note: $250. summit, n. j. october 10, 1910. six months after date i promise to pay to the order of john brown.............. two hundred and fifty ...... dollars,.... at the lincoln national bank of summit .......... value received. george jones. no. 1. due april 14, 1911. now, if before the expiration of this note, you want to make a payment on it of, say, $75, you take the money to mr. brown, who endorses on the back of the note, "received on the within note $75, january 3rd.," if that be the date, and signs, "john brown." it may be well to remember that while a running account may be collected at any time, the law cannot prevent the maker of a promissory note from selling all his belongings and leaving the country before the note is due. days of grace notes may be "time" notes, that is where there is a specified time for payment, or "demand" notes. the latter are collectable on presentation. with the time notes "three days grace" are allowed after the expiration of the date for payment. no such favor is allowed in the case of demand notes. these grace days do not seem businesslike. why not add them to the date in the note? well, it is a custom, quite as old as the greater part of our laws, and so it must be observed. under the law a note is payable at the home or business place of the drawer, unless otherwise specified. indorsing notes a note secured by a mortgage has its payment guaranteed. the usual way of securing the payment of a note given in business is to have it endorsed with a good name across the back, as in endorsing a check. by writing your name across the back of another man's note you announce to all the holders of that note that you know the maker and that if he does not pay it you will. in most states the indorser of a note cannot be held responsible for payment, unless the holder notifies him, within twenty-four hours after the note comes due, that the maker cannot or will not pay. if an indorsed note changes hands, each indorser is responsible to all endorsers who follow him and also to the last holder of the note. if an indorser, that is, one into whose hands the note has come after the first endorsement, should not wish to guarantee payment, he writes before his name, "without recourse to me." this is known as a "qualified endorsement." a negotiable note most notes are negotiable; that is because they may be sold, like any other personal property, or the ownership may be transferred from one person to another. no note is negotiable that does not bear on its face, the words, "pay to bearer," or "pay to the order of," followed by the payee's name. joint notes when two persons sign a note they become jointly and individually responsible for its payment. such persons are known as "joint makers." if one signs his name on the back of a note before it has been handed to the payee, he makes himself not only an endorser, but a joint maker. if the maker of such a note refuses to pay on the expiration of time stated, he is liable for the amount without any notification. discounting notes if a business man borrows from a bank on his note, he must pay for the privilege. interest is a sum paid for the use of money. interest is reckoned as a certain percentage yearly on the principal. interest on interest is called "compound interest" and is unused in ordinary business transactions. instead of collecting interest when the amount borrowed on a note is due, or deducting it from the principal in advance, it discounts the note at the rate agreed on and pays the rest. this is called bank discount and its rate is variable, depending on the abundance or scarcity of money. money is a marketable article, and the price, like that of wheat or cotton, is governed by supply and demand. interest on notes a note may be made payable "with interest," or not, as the parties concerned may agree. if nothing is said about interest in the note, no interest can be collected. again a note may go into details and specify that "the interest shall be ten per cent, payable semi-annually," provided always that the rate shall not be higher than the legal interest of the state. excessive interest is known as "usury." it invalidates all the interest, and in some places the principal is forfeited. when the holder of an interest note receives interest payment he must record the date and sum on the back of the note. protests if a note comes due on sunday or on a legal holiday, payment must be made on the following day. holidays are appointed by the separate states. the united states recognizes no day as a holiday, except sunday, and that is acknowledged through custom. it is customary for banks to notify makers of notes held by them a few days before time set for payment; but this is not required by law. if a note lies unpaid in bank the day set for payment, as soon as the office closes for regular business the note is protested. the protest is made before a notary public; he is usually an employee of the bank. in the protest formal objection is made against the breaking of the promise, and demanding that the matter be set right by the maker, or on his failure, by the indorser. the indorser, who has to pay, has a claim for the amount on the maker of the note, as he would have for money loaned or goods sold, and he can sue to collect. a note that is not paid within a fixed time is said to be "outlawed." remember the indorser of a note must be notified within twentyfour hours of the failure of the drawer to make good. notices the object in protesting a note is to fix the liability on the endorser. if there be more than one endorser notice of protest must be sent to all at the same time. it is better, where possible, to serve the notices on the indorsers in person. the payee must also be notified. accommodations there is a form of note sometimes used in business which is given without any consideration on the part of the maker. this is known as an "accommodation note." the maker of such a note does not expect to pay it, nor does the man in whose favor it is drawn expect to do so. an accommodation note is an instrument by the sale of which, or through a bank, money may be raised for immediate use. the maker in this case is a friend who loans his name. as there was no value received such a note could not be collected by the payee. but if it passes into the hands of a third party, who endorses it, then the maker of the note can be compelled to pay. a lost note a note may be lost or stolen. the losing of a note does not release the maker from payment of the full amount on the date and at the place named. the loser should at once notify the maker of his loss. a man who buys, before its maturity, a lost or stolen note, may collect the full amount from the maker, provided the note is payable to "bearer" and no notice of the loss has been published. when the maker of a lost note pays the amount to the original owner, he should receive from him what is known as a "bond of indemnity." this bond is to secure him against paying a second time. notes about notes there are some things worth remembering about promissory notes. 1. never give one if you can pay cash. 2. a note made on sunday is worthless in some states. 3. a note given under compulsion is worthless. 4. notes made by a drunken person, or obtained by any form of fraud cannot be collected under law. 5. notes bear interest only when so stated in body of note. 6. the holder of a note has a legal claim against every indorser. 7. each indorser is responsible to every indorser who follows him. 8. notes are valid without reference to the kind of paper, or whether they are written with pen or pencil. 9. losing a note does not release the maker from payment. 10. if no time is set in a note for payment, it becomes due as soon as it is made. 11. where a note is made in one state and is payable in another, it is governed by the laws of the state in which it is to be paid. 12. notes payable on demand draw no interest until after they have been presented for payment. 13. if a note reads "with interest" and no rate is specified then it draws the legal interest in the state in which it was made. 14. demand notes are not entitled to days of grace. 15. if no place of payment is named in a note, it should be presented to the maker personally in business hours. 16. the misspelling of a word or words in no way invalidates a note. 17. if a person who cannot write makes a note his mark should be properly witnessed. 18. the makers of a joint note must be sued jointly. 19. if the words and the figures in a note disagree, the words take precedence. 20. a note signed by a firm may be collected from either of the partners. 21. when a payment is made on a note secured by a mortgage, the amount is endorsed on the note, never on the mortgage. 22. a note given by a minor is void, unless given for actual necessities, like food and clothing. 23. if a note made by a minor is acknowledged when he comes of age it is binding and collectible. chapter xi a draft a draft is a written order from the first party to the second party to pay to the third party a certain sum of money at a certain time. the first party is called the "drawer." the second party is the "drawee." the third party is the "payee." there are two kinds of draft. the first is usually where the cashier of one bank, through his own check, draws on another bank for the cash difference in their accounts with each other. the second form of draft is the most usual and is the one we shall here consider. the cashier's draft is always for cash and the demand is always honored. the ordinary business draft may be for cash or for goods. the business draft is usually honored, but there are circumstances under which it may be ignored. to make a draft but let us suppose that the draft is all right and that a merchant, let us call him henry thomas, and suppose him a resident of philadelphia, has a bill against james taylor, of cleveland, and he wants to collect it, without recourse to law. how will he go about it? the bill is for $100. mr. thomas writes this draft: philadelphia, pa., sept. 5, 1910. at sight pay to the order of johnson national bank of philadelphia one hundred................... dollars. with exchange and charge same to henry thomas. to james taylor, cleveland, ohio. having drawn his draft, mr. thomas takes it to the johnson national bank for collection. the collection is actually made by some bank in cleveland to which the johnson has endorsed it over. if mr. thomas wished he might have sent his draft direct to the cleveland bank, but he no doubt thought it better to transact such matters through his own bank. or if mr. thomas lived where he was not in touch with a bank, he might have drawn through any person whom he knew in cleveland. on receiving the draft for collection, the cleveland bank would at once give it to a clerk who would without delay present it to mr. taylor. mr. taylor, having written his acceptance of the draft, is given three days grace in which to make payment. in states where days of grace are not allowed, he would have to pay at once. mr. taylor writes the word "accepted," with the date and his name across the face of the draft, and if he does not pay cash, he states in the writing where payment will be made. of course, mr. taylor cannot be compelled to accept a draft. there may be good and honest reasons for his not doing so, but having accepted it, in business honor he is bound to pay it. the term "sight draft" explains itself, but the order to pay a draft may indicate, and often does, the number of days allowed for payment, after presentation. for collection what should be done by the man to whom a bill or a note is due, when the debtor lives in a place where there is no bank? in that case he must learn in some way the name of a promising person to make the collection for him. in this case he makes out the draft as before, and adds the words "for collection." this acts as a bar to any transfer of the paper. most banks refuse to handle a draft marked "for collection." dishonor drafts are not necessarily duns. some country merchants prefer to pay their bills to wholesalers in that way, so that collecting drafts is no small part of the business of the ordinary bank. while men are not compelled to meet drafts when presented, if the amount is due and he defaults or refuses to pay he injures his own credit. in refusing a just draft he is said to "dishonor" it. so sure are wholesalers that their drafts will be met by their distant debtors that they do not hesitate to draw against them when deposited for collection, regarding them as cash to their credit in bank. protests when a draft is not accepted or paid when due, if it be a time draft, it is protested in the same way as a note. the protest of a draft serves as a notice to the drawer of its non-acceptance. like notes and checks, drafts may be transferred by a similar endorsement. buying drafts if i wanted to pay a bill for $150 to albert holt, living at wallace, kansas, and did not wish to trouble him with a check, how would i go about it? 1. i might express the cash, which would be expensive. 2. i might send it in postal order, not always certain. 3. i might send it by a trusted hand, but might have long to wait before i found a friend going out to wallace. i am living in new york city, and am familiar enough with banking to know that new york is a great financial center and is in constant communication with nearly all the outside banks. the outside banks keep money in deposit here, and the new york banks, particularly in the spring and autumn, keep deposits with their correspondents. with my $150 and a small extra sum to pay my bank for drawing the draft, i go thither and buy a draft for the sum i owe mr. holt. i mail this draft to my creditor and he can cash it without loss in his home bank. here is the form: no. 101. madison national bank of new york. pay to the order of albert holt, one hundred and fifty dollars ($150.)... .......... l. n. jones, cashier. to prairie national bank, wallace, kansas. a good plan when you buy a draft which you mean to send off in payment of a debt, a good plan is to have it made payable to yourself. let us suppose it is the case of albert holt. you transfer the draft to him by writing across the back, "pay to the order of albert holt," and add your signature. now as all drafts are returned, as payment vouchers, to the banks from which they were issued, and as mr. holt must have signed the draft to get his money, it follows that there is a record of his having received it, and this has all the force of a receipt. do not endorse a draft with just your name, for in that case, anyone into whose hands it falls may collect. first write "pay to the order of" the person for whom it is intended. good as cash a draft made payable to yourself is as good as cash, and far safer to carry. if you are identified at any bank between the atlantic and pacific, you can have your draft cashed. all banks furnish blank drafts. never endorse a draft made payable to yourself, and this applies to a check, until you are about to use it. it is a good plan never to sign your name until it is actually necessary. some people have the foolish habit of signing their names on stray bits of paper. do not get into this habit, even if there is no space to fill out a note or order above the signature. chapter xii just money as has been before stated, money in its broadest meaning is a medium of exchange. anything that can pay a debt or purchase property, in any part of a country, is the money of that country. every civilized country has its own minted or printed money. the usual mediums of circulation are gold, silver, nickel and copper, the latter alloyed more or less in the united states with nickel. government and bank bills, while having all the purchasing power of gold, are simply promises to pay in gold, or other coin of "redemption", the amounts they represent. the money of one country cannot legally be made to pay a debt in another country, unless both parties to the payment agree to it. when gold is exchanged to settle the balances of trade between two countries, it is not reckoned, if coined, at its face value, but at its bullion value. the word "pecunia" meant in ancient greece and rome a flock or herd. in those days live stock were used as a medium of exchange, or money. we keep the word and often use it as in "pecuniary" affairs, and when we call a moneyless man, "impecunious." united states money the united states government reserves to itself the right under the constitution, to coin and issue the money to be used by its own people. formerly we had two standards of value, gold and silver, or bimetalism. if gold and silver were produced in relatively equal quantities, the world would go on trading with money of both kinds, but the proportions are not the same. among the aztecs and peruvians silver ranked with gold as two to one, that is, two pounds of silver would purchase as much as one pound of gold. but when great silver mines were discovered and new methods were discovered for extracting the metal, it became more and more abundant, till it depreciated far below the former value it had in its relation to gold. most of the commercial nations decided to have but one standard of value, and that gold, long before the united states fell into line. our money measure is known as the decimal, or metric. it would be convenient, if we could follow the example of nearly all the other commercial nations, and use the metric system for all our weights and measures. our metal money in the united states treasury at washington, there are many million dollars in silver coins and bullion. the gold standard has not driven silver out of circulation, for it is still found convenient to use it in settling immediately our smaller business transactions. when the silver dollar was first coined, and indeed up to the present date, the intention was that it should contain about a dollar's worth of silver, or 374 1/4 troy grains of the pure metal. this amount of silver was supposed to represent permanently 24 3/4 grains of pure gold, and it did so represent its value at one time, and would have continued to do so, had the relative output of both metals been the same. our chief mint is in philadelphia, where is coined all the copper, nickel, silver, and gold money in use. to imitate these metals, even where the full value is given, constitutes the criminal offence called "counterfeiting." in former times, some of our older readers will remember them, the government meant to have the metal in each coin of about its unstamped value in the market. in those days the cent was as large as our present silver half dollar, and the copper two-cent piece was a monster in the way of coinage. now our copper and nickel coins are small and can be carried without testing strength of pockets. they are regarded as money "tokens." silver coins that are punched can be refused in the settlement of a debt. punched gold coins should always be refused, for they are never of their face value. silver coins may be used in the settlement of bills up to $5.00. gold coins are, of course, legal tender up to any amount. paper money we usually class all paper money as "bills." there are three classes of bills, all quite different in their inception and meaning. these are-1. national bank notes. 2. treasury notes or "greenbacks." 3. treasury certificates. bank notes a national bank note is the guaranteed promise of some national bank to pay coin or its equivalent to any one presenting the note at the bank and asking to have the exchange made. this exchange is called "redeeming." if you examine a bank bill you will notice that it is drawn much like an ordinary business "demand" note, made payable to "bearer," and signed by the bank president and cashier. for every dollar of its own sent out in the form of a bill by a national bank, the government holds a dollar of the bank's collateral to guarantee the redemption of the note if the bank should fail. national bank notes are received in all business transactions, because they are secured by the government, yet there are cases in which even the government will not receive them in payment of a claim, nor pay them out itself. 1. all import duties must be paid in gold. 2. the government pays the interest on its own bonds in gold. the bureau of engraving and printing--a department of the united states treasury--makes and prints all the national bank notes. on all these notes the names of the united states treasurer and the united states register appear. the names look like signatures, but they are facsimilies and are printed with the note. the notes are printed on specially prepared paper, to imitate which is regarded as a counterfeit. soiled and worn out bank notes may be exchanged for fresh ones at the treasury department. "greenbacks" greenbacks are treasury notes. the name comes from the color in which they first appeared in the years of our civil war. the treasury note is really an engraved promissory note of the united states government made payable to the bearer, and bearing the signatures of the treasurer and register of the treasury. these notes are issued in denominations of from five to ten thousand dollars. formerly there were one and two-dollar treasury notes issued, and we still find some of these "old-timers" in circulation. there are so many treasury notes in circulation that the government, vast though its bullion and coin reserves are, could not redeem them if presented at once. the treasury note is a legal tender for any amount of indebtedness. the government prints the following guarantee on every treasury note: "this note is, by law, to be considered as good as coin. any one to whom you pay it must reckon it as equivalent to a dollar (or face value in dollars) in value." treasury certificates the treasury certificate is, in form, very much like the treasury note, and it bears the signatures of the same officers. treasury certificates are of two kinds, gold and silver. the gold certificates are printed in yellow. the silver certificates are light black and white. these certificates are issued against the great reserves of gold and silver that are kept to redeem them. the use of the gold certificate saves the loss of the gold that comes through abrasion when handled. a five-dollar silver certificate is much more convenient to carry than five silver dollars. these certificates, as may be seen, are issued for the convenience of the public. certificates of either character will be redeemed to any amount, in the metals for which they call, if presented at the united states treasury at washington, or at any of the sub-treasuries to be found in our larger cities. worn-out notes only those familiar with the work can realize the great quantities of bank bills, treasury notes, and certificates continually being made and sent out from washington. while a stream of clean, fresh paper of enormous value is going out to be spread all over the country, another stream of soiled, torn and altogether disreputable-looking paper is flowing back to the treasury. the filthy paper is quite as valuable as the clean, so it is properly checked, recorded, and credited before new paper is sent out in its place. they are now trying to make old bills presentable by washing them at the department. meanwhile, most of them are ground again into pulp, made into new paper, and all the first processes gone through with to make the paper into money. chapter xiii our postal business up to a few years ago, it was the city, town and village dweller who reaped the greatest benefit from the post office. in dense communities carriers leave the mail at the place to which it is addressed. where this is not done the walk for the mail is not far. now the purpose of our government, which is of the people and by the people, is to treat all the people alike. however, up to a few years ago the farmer, our most essential producer, had not a fair deal. fortunately things have changed and are still changing for the better. rural free delivery was an idea as just as it was grand, and as welcome as it was necessary. the good work began october 1, 1896. the purpose of rural free delivery is to accommodate dwellers in the country, whether farmers or not. through this branch of the service mails are carried daily, on fixed lines of travel, to people who otherwise would have to go long distances to reach a post office. the government requires that the states or counties shall keep in good condition the roads traversed by the mail carriers. gates must not obstruct, and it is required that every unfordable stream shall be bridged. it is further required, as a condition for establishing a line for rural free delivery, that each route of twenty-four or more miles in length shall have at least one hundred families resident on either side. classified mail matter mail matter is divided into four classes. for each class a different rate is charged. first class:--all letters, and all other written matter, with a few exceptions, pay two cents for each ounce, or fraction of an ounce. second class:--newspapers, magazines, and other periodicals, one cent for each four ounces or fraction of four ounces. publishers of periodicals, sending direct from place of publication, get a lower rate,--one cent a pound. third class:--books, circulars, and other printed matter, one cent for two ounces or fraction of two ounces. fourth class:--merchandise and miscellaneous articles, weighing not over four pounds, one cent for each ounce or fraction of an ounce. postal rules 1. on a tag, or the paper on which the address is written, the sender of third class matter may write "from" and add his own name and address. 2. on the blank leaf of a book, forwarded as third class matter, the sender may write a dedication or inscription, but it must not be in the form of a letter. 3. fourth class matter must be so wrapped that the postal authorities can examine the contents without much trouble. 4. such articles as glass, nails, needles or other matter that might work injury if it came loose, must be enclosed in two separate wrappings, or a double case. 5. poisons, explosives, inflammable substances, and live animals are excluded from the mails. 6. firearms may only be sent in detached parts. 7. all alcoholic liquors are regarded as explosive. foreign rates the rates to canada are the same for all classes of matter as in the united states, except that seeds, scions, bulbs, cuttings, and roots are one cent per ounce. to cuba all the rates are the same as for domestic matter. rates with mexico are the same as if mailed between our own states. packages are limited to 4 pounds 6 ounces, except that single books may weigh more. merchandise must be sent by parcel post. to all other countries, in what is known as the "postal union", the rates for letters are five cents for each half ounce or fraction thereof. postal cards two cents each, double four cents. registration fees or letters or other articles, four cents each. ordinary letters for foreign countries, except canada, cuba and mexico, must be forwarded, whether any postage is paid on them or not. all other mailable matter must be prepaid. alaska, hawaii, guam, tetuila, the philippines and porto rico are regarded as insular or territorial possessions of the united states, and are entitled to the same postal rates. stamps postage stamps may be purchased at any united states post office, or at any place authorized to sell them. anyone may sell postage stamps as he would any other personal asset. if stamps are bought to be enclosed in a letter, they should never be of a higher denomination than twos and ones, as they are easily disposed of. letters should always be stamped on the upper right-hand corner of the envelope. packages should be stamped in the same way and on the addressed side. the using of cancelled stamps is a felony. foreign stamps have no value on letters or parcels mailed in the united states. a domestic, unstamped letter will not be forwarded. if a stamped letter is found to require more postage, the amount lacking is stamped on the letter, and must be paid by the receiver. stamped envelopes and stamped wrappers are sold by the post office at the usual rates of postage, with the cost of the paper added. if a stamped envelope or wrapper is spoiled, the stamp must not be cut off and used by pasting on another envelope or wrapper, for it will be treated as if no postage were paid. such spoiled wrappers or envelopes will be exchanged, without charge, by the postmaster, for stamps of the same value. postal cards never use a postal card to dun a debtor. never send a confidential message on a postal card. foreign postal cards, that is those bearing a foreign stamp, cannot be used in the united states. an international postal card can be bought. postal cards and letters may be redirected and forwarded without extra charge, where the address of the receiver has been changed. packages require a renewal of payment in such cases. registering letters a letter or a parcel may be registered to further insure its safe delivery. when a letter or parcel is registered, it must have the sender's name and address written across the left-hand end of the envelope and on the reverse side. in addition to the stamps required ordinarily, eight cents in stamps or in a regularly prepared stamp, is the registration fee. the clerk, receiving a registered parcel, gives the sender a receipt for the same. after the letter has reached its destination, the sender gets a second receipt, through the post office, signed with the receiver's name. the receiver of a registered parcel signs two receipts, one for the post office and the other for the sender. special delivery the purpose of what is known, in connection with the post office, as the "special delivery system", is to insure the delivery of any letter or package to the person, to whom it is addressed, as soon as it reaches his post office. in addition to the regular post charge, a fee of 10 cents is added for special delivery. this is in the form of a special stamp, though when this cannot be had, the same amount in ordinary stamps may be attached. in the case noted, the sender should write in line with the stamps, "special delivery." special delivery messages are delivered, not by ordinary carriers, but by special delivery messengers. the special delivery letter is used when immediate knowledge is necessary. it saves a long telegram. money orders money, in limited sums, may be sent through the post office. one advantage of sending money in this way is that it practically insures the sender against loss. all post offices are not money order offices. a post office money order may only be sent to those places where there are such offices. at all post offices, authorized to send money orders, proper blanks can be had on which the sender can write his order. any sum may be sent by postal order, from one cent to one hundred dollars. the fee is from three to thirty cents. read the blank carefully; it is simple, but be sure you understand it before filling out the order. if in doubt, ask the clerk. having filled out the order, hand it to the clerk with the sum required, and the additional fee. the clerk then prepares and hands out an order for the amount, on the postmaster of the town to which you are sending your letter, and this you enclose to your correspondent. cashing post office orders the money order never contains the name of the sender; this the postmaster of the office from which it is sent supplies in a separate communication to the postmaster who is to pay. no money passes from one office to the other. a post office order is like a draft drawn by one postmaster on another. the one credits the sum, the other debits it. the holder of an order will not get his money unless he is known to the paying postmaster or is identified. before paying an order the postmaster requires the holder to receipt it. a post office money order, like a check or draft, may be transferred to another for collection. banks receive transferred money orders as if they were cash deposits. the party to whom orders are transferred must go through the same forms at the office, where payment is made, as if he was the original payee. advice it is not necessary to register letters containing checks. never write "personal" on a business letter. always enclose a stamp for reply when writing to a stranger. see that the addresses on your letters are distinctly legible. chapter xiv telegrams--the telephone to send a telegram, you or your messenger must take what you have written to the nearest telegraph office. you may write a telegram on any kind of paper, provided always that the writing is plain. all telegraph offices are provided with regular blank forms, which may be had without cost, and it is better to use these when they are available. the blank is properly ruled, with lines for the date, for the address of the one to whom it is to be sent, and for the message. charges the telegraph company charges a fixed sum for a message of, say, ten words. these words do not include the name and address of the sender. the amount of the charge is always dependent on the distance between the office from which the message is sent and the one at which it is received. every word over ten, in the message, pays an extra fee, dependent again on the distance. getting just what you mean into ten words may seem difficult when you have a lot to say, but it is surprising how you can boil the message down when each additional word costs five or more cents. it may pay to practice this. if it is actually necessary to make your meaning clear by the addition of more words, do not hesitate at the cost. if you are known at the telegraph office, you can send a message to be collected from the receiver. never permit the receiver to pay for a message that is exclusively on your own business. always make and keep a copy of every important telegram you send away. do not neglect this. if you have neglected to keep a copy of a telegram, or having made one have lost it, you may get a copy from the telegraph office, provided the application be made within six months of the sending of the message. telegrams are delivered by the company's messengers. you must give receipt to the messenger on the delivery of a telegram. where the receiver lives a long distance from the telegraph office, it is customary to pay the messenger an additional fee, depending on the distance. the charges for telegrams to be sent at night and delivered in the morning, are much lower than for day messages. for an additional charge, less than the original, messages may be repeated back to insure their accuracy. read over to the official, or still better, have him read your message over in your presence, that you may be sure he understands it as written. you cannot hold others responsible for your own mistakes. telegraphing money you can telegraph money with as much safety as you can send it through a bank. in handling money in this way, the telegraph company does not act as a banker but as a carrier. telegraph money orders are a great convenience, when one wants to send cash to a distant point in a hurry. country telegraph offices do not, as a rule, transmit money; that function is left to the offices in the larger centers. the method one wishing to "wire money" will find at the telegraph office suitable blanks; they are furnished gratis. on lines provided for the purpose and properly indicated, as in a postal order form, write the name and address of the person to receive the money, with the amount. this paper, properly signed, is handed to the clerk with the money to be sent and the fee for transmission. the fee is double that charged for an ordinary message of the same length. if, for any reason, the person to whom the money is sent cannot be found within forty-eight hours, the money is returned to the sender, but the fees are retained, as the company is not to blame for failure. the receiver of a money order, if unknown, must identify himself as he would at a bank, and he must receipt for the money. if the person to receive the money is an entire stranger in the place to which the money is sent, the sender knows it, and he provides for the situation by signing, on the reverse of the application, an order to the distant operator to pay the money to the person named within, without further identification. when a telegraph operator receives a money order, he at once seeks out the person to whom it is sent, and pays the money in accordance with his instructions as to identification. the telephone the telephone, local and long distance, is fast superceding the telegraph as a medium for speedy business communications. its use is not confined to large cities as at first. nearly every village is now in communication with the outer world through the telephone. the world has just awakened to the needs of its food producer, the farmer. in norway, which is not a rich country, the telephone has been introduced on the farms. the rates are low and the benefits are inestimable. on our large farms, in the west, telephones have been in use for some time as an essential part of the machinery. now, there is a move on foot to make them available for every farmer in the more settled regions. while business can be conducted over the telephone, as if the speakers stood face to face, yet such transactions not being recorded, will not stand in law, if one of the parties should dispute the other's word. chapter xv business by express there are two kinds of expresses, viz.: local and general. the names describe the provinces of each, though a general express may do a local business. all express companies are common carriers. the carrying business done by our express companies is enormous. they have their own special cars attached to passenger and fast freight trains, and their goods are given special departments in water transportation. if living between two towns, it is always better to have your letters and express business done through one office. instructions when ordering material by express, make sure that you give the address, to which you wish it sent, in such a way that a mistake on the part of the forwarder will be out of the question. if you send away goods by express, make sure that they are securely packed, and be equally sure that the address is clearly written and in a large hand. it would be better if the address could be painted on with a brush. if you should send perishable stuff, like meat, flowers, glass, or fruit, be sure to label the package "perishable" or "handle with care, glass." on long distance transportation prepayment is required; on short distances it is optional. it is always better to get from the express agent a receipt for the matter taken in charge. take care to put your own address on the lower left-hand corner of the package to be sent. if the person to whom the parcel is sent cannot be found, the address will enable the express company to notify the sender at once of the fact. when sending any goods by express, it is always prudent to notify the person for whom they are intended of the fact by mail, and also to state the company by which the matter was sent and the date of shipment. the company's duty the express company must always require, on delivering goods, a receipt from the receiver. if the goods should be received by a second person, on behalf of the consignee, he must sign the consignee's name, and under that his own. if a package appears to be damaged in transmission, the express company must permit the receiver to examine it before signing. he may refuse to sign or to accept in any way, if the goods are injured, or not as he ordered. express companies are responsible for all damages sustained by goods while in their charge. collections by express all the large express companies have the machinery for collecting accounts and notes whenever they have branch offices. such companies are reliable collectors. their services are prompt and their charges reasonable. where an express company fails to collect, notice is promptly given with the reasons for failure. when you wish an express company to collect, it will be necessary for you to make out a statement of the account. this is placed in a special envelope, provided by the company. it is properly indorsed and handed to the company's representative. the company charges a small fee for collection, whether it succeeds or not. in any case the fee is not much above a fourth of one per cent, unless there should be unusual trouble. c. o. d. by express as you know, c.o.d. means "cash on delivery". cash on delivery orders constitute no small part of every express company's business. when goods are forwarded in this way, the sender furnishes with the goods an itemized bill duly receipted. the express company's charges should be included in the bill. the express agent is sure to collect the bill before he lets the goods leave his keeping. money by express should you desire to send money by express, it will be well to go to the company's office before you pack it up. express companies have special receptacles or envelopes in which to store coin or bills. there is no charge for these. the sender must himself seal the packages containing the money, and write on them the address of the consignee, also the amount enclosed. having received the packages, the express agent ties them up, affixes his official seal, which is so arranged that the package cannot be opened or tampered with, without breaking. this done, he gives the sender a receipt. this should be cared for as a vital part of the record. the charges for sending money by express may or may not be paid in advance. they vary with the amount to be carried and the distance. packages of money are receipted for in the usual way. they are delivered only to the legal consignee, unless a second person should appear with an order, amounting to a power of attorney, and which the company cannot reject. money orders the foregoing by no means limits the express company's usefulness or field of opportunities. express companies issue money orders much as does the post office department. as with the post office, the fees for orders vary, but no order is issued for more than fifty dollars. if you want to send such an order, the express company will furnish the proper blank for you to fill out. on this form must be written out very plainly the name and address of the person to whom the order is to be sent, with the amount, in words and in figures. on receiving the money the express agent gives to his customer two papers; one is the company's receipt for the money, the other is the order itself. the order instructs the agent at the point to which it is to be sent to pay the sum named to the person named. to complete the order the sender should sign his name in a place indicated for the purpose on the back of the paper. this done, the order can be sent to the person for whom it is intended, in an ordinary envelope. the receiver of an express money order can have it cashed at the express office in his town, or sign it and place it in his own bank as if it were cash. chapter xvi about railroads not everything about railroads, that would be a tremendous undertaking, but just enough to show what everyone should know about them as carriers of goods. the express companies have practically a monopoly of the transportation of the smaller packages of goods requiring quick transit and immediate delivery, but the longer, heavier, and slower freight are in the hands of the railroads, and where it can be done, and time is not a first factor, the steamboat takes the place of the train. bills of lading as most of the goods in changing hands are carried by steamboat or railroad, the method of shipment should be understood by everyone who may be called on to use one or the other means of transportation. the person shipping goods in this way is the "consignor." the person to whom the goods are shipped is the "consignee". the goods shipped are described in a paper called a "bill of lading." a bill of lading is a written contract, or statement of the goods shipped, their condition, and the time of shipment. bills of lading and receipt blanks are furnished at the offices of the transportation companies. two copies of the bill of lading should be made out. one of these is signed by the consignor and the other by the transportation agent. the copy signed by the consignor is kept by the agent, and the copy signed by the agent is retained by the consignor, as a voucher for the goods shipped. this receipt should be mailed to the consignee. when the consignee gets this bill of lading, it is a voucher to the freight agent, where the goods are to be delivered, as to the ownership. it is usual for the agent at the point of shipment to send a copy of the bill of lading to the agent where the goods are received. in this way he can compare the consignment with the consignee's bill. expense bills it is not usual to pay freight bills at the point of shipment, that being left till the goods reach their destination. the agent at the place of delivery makes out an "expense bill," which is an itemized statement of the freight charges, and must be paid by the consignee before delivery. this done, the consignee must sign a receipt for the goods delivered, and the affair is closed. a bill and a draft before wholesale houses or manufacturers ship goods, they are either paid for or they have a business understanding with the consignee as to when and how the payment is to be made. there are occasions, however, when no such arrangement has been made, and a man not well known to the merchant orders goods shipped by freight. in a case like this, the merchant may ascertain through a commercial agency--the agencies make it their business to keep posted in such matters--the standing of the man giving the order. trade has its risks and the merchant, even where the information is not quite assuring, may decide to fill the order and ship it. as with express companies, goods may be sent as freight, c. o. d. this is done by means of a bill of lading, to which is attached a draft. the shipper bills the goods to himself at the point to which they were ordered. to the bill of lading he attaches a draft for the sum involved, but this, instead of being forwarded to the consignee by mail, is sent to him through a bank for collection. now before the consignee can get the bill of lading, which authorizes him to receive the goods, he must pay the draft. the bill, which is in the shipper's name, is then endorsed over to the payer of the draft. country merchants and sometimes farmers send produce by freight to be sold on commission in the city. an invoice delhi, n. y., sept. 9, 1910. invoice of merchandise shipped by harry t. jackson and consigned to brown, smith & co., newburg, n. y. to be sold on commission. 120 bbls. potatoes 70 " green apples 40 crates tomatoes. mark plainly all goods shipped. chapter xvii taxes generally speaking, tax bills are paid with reluctance. this is no doubt due to the fact that with every other form of payment one has something tangible to show for the expenditure. if every good citizen could be brought to see that his private interests are closely linked with public affairs, he would take more interest in the local politics of his town and county, and so have a voice in the expenditure of taxes by selecting the best men to do the work for him. taxes are forced contributions levied on citizens to provide money for public expenses, such as law and order, schools, charities and public institutions. all tax laws are made by the men who pay the taxes. you say "no" to this. "the tax laws are made by the legislators up at the state capital." very true; but who nominates and elects the legislators? did you not put them into office? "no, the bosses did that," you reply. true again, but good men are in the majority and if they did their duty to their country and themselves, there would be no bosses and taxes would be honestly spent. kinds of taxes tax laws are enacted by congress, and by the legislatures of our many states. taxes cannot be collected without this authority. state taxes are collected for the state use only. united states taxes are expended for the benefit of all the people of all the states. taxes may be further divided into direct and indirect. direct taxes are, at present, only employed by the states. they are levied on realty and personal property, and are paid by the particular person named in the tax bill presented by the authorized collector. the amount of these taxes vary each year, depending on the public requirements. they are based on assessments made by officers appointed for the purpose and generally known as assessors. customs duty though there is no demand made on each individual to pay the indirect taxes required by the government, yet indirectly every person who spends little or much money is paying them. the government's chief means of raising the great sums of money needed yearly to carry on its machinery is by customs duties and internal revenue collections. the customs revenue is obtained from a tax levied on certain articles imported from foreign countries. this customs tax is called a tariff. the question as to the goods that shall be subject to a tariff and the amount to be levied on the same, is one that has long perplexed statesmen and been a leading party issue. the merchant, to whom the goods are assigned from a foreign port, must pay the duty levied on them by a government appraiser before he can take them away. private parties, landing from abroad at any of our ports of entry, are required, before getting their baggage, to write out a declaration of the things contained in their trunks. but this declaration does not prevent the customs inspectors from making a careful personal examination. all things found dutiable, whether declared or not, are set apart and held until the assessment or duty is paid. the evasion of a customs duty is called "smuggling" and is punished by the confiscation of the goods, and penalties in the way of fine and imprisonment. there are people who would consider it a sin to cheat their butcher, but see no wrong in cheating the government. to the merchant who pays tariff duties the amount involved is a direct tax. when the merchant sells his goods to the retailer or consumer, he adds the tariff to his freight, insurance, interest, etc., as direct purchase cost. this is strict business, but the consumer pays all the bills with the profit added. internal revenue the second great source of government revenue is derived from the internal revenue tax, or excise duties. manufacturers of alcohol, whether as wine, whiskey, or beer, and the producers of tobacco, in its manufactured forms, have to pay an excise tax in proportion to the amount and character of their products. as with the customs tax, the excise tax is added by the manufacturer to the cost of production, so that at last it is the consumer who pays it. stamps while the manufacturers of alcohol pay the excise tax in bulk, that is on the number of gallons produced, the manufacturers of cigars and tobacco have to attach to each separate package a distinct internal revenue stamp. these stamps are purchased from the internal revenue collectors, appointed by the government to certain districts. the stamps show at a glance that the proper tax has been paid, just as the postage stamp affixed to a letter proves that the price for carrying it and delivering it has been paid. as it is a penal offence to use a postage stamp a second time, so it is a punishable offence to attempt the use of a cancelled or torn internal revenue stamp. if demanded, the government will give a receipt for the sum received from any one for considerable sales of postal or revenue stamps. state taxes state taxes, as has been stated, are levied on real and personal property. some states have in addition a poll tax. this is levied on the individual without any regard to his property, and a receipt for it may be a requirement before a citizen is permitted to vote. of course the real estate and personal property taxes are not the same in all the states, for each state must raise every year the sum necessary to meet its own special requirements. the intention of all tax laws is to have every citizen's contribution bear the same proportion to the whole amount to be raised that his possessions bear to the aggregate property of all the owners in the commonwealth. exempt from taxes all our state laws exempt from taxation certain kinds of property. the state cannot tax the property held by itself for the common use. the buildings and related properties of religious bodies and societies are not taxable. such educational institutions as colleges, seminaries, and private charities are not taxed. cemeteries and other places where the dead are disposed of are not taxed. county buildings, city parks, public schools, penal institutions, fair grounds for public use and similar property is never taxed. insufficient taxes there have been times in the life of the government, and in the building up of the states, when the funds necessary for maintenance from taxes, heavy though these have been at times, have not been sufficient to meet the essential expenditures. this was particularly the case with our government during the trying days of our civil war. states entering on great public works, for the benefit of the commonwealth, frequently cannot raise the necessary money by the usual forms of taxation. in these cases loans have to be made, that is the government and the state go out and borrow from those who have it to spare, the necessary money. the government, the state, and it may be the city or county, gives to the party providing the money what is known as bond or bonds, each of a fixed amount and bearing a fixed rate of interest, payable as a rule semi-annually. personal property there is no form of property so easy to assess for the purpose of taxation as real estate, that is the land and the buildings, for the last selling value of this property is a matter of public record, and then the assessors, who should be men of honesty and good judgment, are generally posted as to the value of the property under consideration. when, however, it comes to the taxation of personal property, which means any kind of property that can be detached and carried about, it is a different matter. just as many people, otherwise regarded as honest, do not think it a great wrong to get the better of the custom house, so many reputable people are inclined to revolt against the tax on personal property and to conceal their actual possessions from the assessor, nor is this peculiarity confined to the poor. any man may be legally compelled to swear to the accuracy of his statement, and if it is found that he has knowingly sworn to a false statement, he may be brought to task for perjury. what is known as "personal property" varies in many of the states. personal property generally includes, merchandise in possession; all fixtures, all furniture in home, offices, and factories; all live stock, all money on hand and in banks; other men's notes, not transferred; all stocks and bonds and other forms of security. town taxes townships or counties, if properly authorized by charter or the votes of the people, may levy special taxes for special purposes within the limits of their own jurisdictions, or they may in the same way sell bonds to carry out some work that has been decided on for the common weal. two or more towns, or counties, may join in the same way to carry out a project of benefit to both, provided that the burden of the undertaking be equitably assessed. payments all tax bills are due and collectable on presentation, but this is never enforced. a time is, however, fixed beyond which payment cannot be deferred. a sufficient amount of any property may be sold at auction to satisfy a tax bill. of old, and still in some places, the road taxes were paid in cash, but more frequently by work on the roads, either by the individual man, or in connection with his team, each day's work of one or both being fixed at a regular rate. taxing corporations the state does not tax the individual members of a corporation for property held in common. the same result is secured better by taxing the corporation as a body. this applies to banks, railroads, and incorporated manufacturing establishments. savings banks are taxed lightly. every depositor is liable for a personal property tax proportioned to the amount of his credit. to make collection easy the savings bank always pays the amount of this tax in bulk, and then charges it to the expense account of the establishment, so that indirectly the depositors pay after all, as their dividends are reduced by just the amount of the tax. taxes in general when a man owns property in different towns, counties, or states, he is regarded as so many individuals, and must pay each as the local demands require. no matter where a man's personal property is placed, the rule is to tax him for the whole at the place of his usual residence. the landlord and the merchant each pays a direct tax to the collector, but it would be a business error to think that in so doing either or both is carrying more than his share of the total taxation. the landlord keeps in mind the added expense when he comes to adjust leases with his tenants. the merchant, who pays taxes on his stock and so adds to his expense account, should not be blamed if he keeps this in mind when he fixes the selling prices of his goods. the returns taxes duly paid, honestly collected, and properly expended should never be regarded as a burden. from no equal expenditure of money do the people get so much good. the public schools, the public highways, the protection of life and property, public hospitals, public libraries, residences for the old, the blind, the orphaned and the insane, as well as secure places for the lawless, are built and maintained by the taxpayer. as a rule all these things are done honestly and well, notwithstanding the outcry to the contrary. if there be dishonesty in places, it is the fault quite as much of the voter who selected him as of the official culprit himself. we must take all the responsibility of our agents, whether they be public or private. every good citizen should feel that his public duty is an important private business. chapter xviii contracts, leases, and guarantees the law books define a contract to be "an agreement between two or more persons to do or not to do a certain stated thing or things, for a consideration." the consideration is a vital part of every contract. there can be no binding contract without a consideration. the other requisites of a contract are-1. it must be possible of accomplishment. 2. it must be in accordance with law. 3. its performance must not injure the public. 4. the parties to a contract must be competent to do the things to which they pledge themselves. 5. a drunken or an insane man cannot make a contract. 6. all parties to a contract must be agreed. the consideration no contract can be held as binding where the consideration is not named. a promise, verbal or in writing, to do something for a certain party, cannot be enforced. a promise to do the same thing for a stipulation named is a contract and may be enforced. a gift is not a form of contract. once made it cannot be legally taken back. written and verbal contracts there are certain forms of contract which cannot be legally enforced, unless they are in writing. 1. all contracts for the sale of real estate. 2. contracts that are not to be performed for a year or more. 3. all contracts, to answer for the debt and obligations of another, must be in writing. if the contracting parties put but a part of their agreement in writing the law will recognize only the written part. the whole must be in writing, or the agreement will not hold. verbal contracts are not safe. although the law does not require even contract to be in writing, yet, as it never declares that a contract must be verbal, it is the part of prudence, wherever possible, to put every contract in writing. owing to defects of memory even honest men may, and frequently do, disagree as to the terms of a verbal contract. because the party with whom the contract is made is a close friend, one is apt to depend on a verbal agreement, but the closer the friend or relative, the more reason there is for an exact written contract, if we would keep the friend. forms of contract the law is never specific as to the form of contract that may be used. it is not necessary to draw up the contract with the formal accuracy of a real estate deed. any one with good sense and a fair common school education can draw up a contract that will hold. know what is required, then state the facts simply. contracts need not be sworn to or even witnessed. kinds of contract every note, mortgage and other form of obligation is a specific contract. a lease is a form of contract between two people, known as landlord and tenant, for the use of real estate for a period and at a rental specified in the document. a verbal lease may be made for a short period, but if for a year or more, it must be in writing. a lease should state when, where and to whom the rent is to be paid. each party to a lease, or other form contract should have a copy. if the premises rented should become unusable by fire or any action of the elements the tenant is still liable for rent, unless there is a special clause in the lease providing for such a contingency. a tenant cannot, without the written consent of the landlord, use the rented premises for any other purpose than that stated in the lease. as to repairs in some states the law compels the landlord to keep the premises in habitable repair, but this does not seem to be the rule. it should be decided, where there is doubt, before signing the lease. where it is agreed that the landlord shall keep the premises in repair, and, after due notice of the fact, he fails to do so, the tenant may himself make the repairs and deduct the amount from the rent. subletting if there is no contract to the contrary, the tenant may sublet the whole or any part of the premises, but this does not release him from liability for rent. if the tenant fails to leave the property when his lease has expired, the owner may make his demand through what is known as a "notice to quit," which must be served on the tenant in person. what is a guaranty? a guaranty is sometimes required to insure the payment of rent. plainly, a guaranty is an agreement to assume, under certain conditions, the liabilities of another. if a man makes a contract, a lease, or a note, and his personal resources are not deemed sufficient to secure his performance of the things agreed to, the other may require that some one, in whom he has more faith, shall give him a guaranty, or personal security in writing. the following might be used as the form for a guaranty for a lease, contract, note or other obligation of contract: "for value received, i hereby guarantee the payment of the within lease (bond or contract). george l. roberts." short hills, n. j. october 1, 1910. a bill of sale this is a written agreement by which one person transfers to another his interest in certain personal property. the law lays down no rule as to the form. a bill of sale usually passes where the property paid for is not immediately removed from the possession of the seller. this form would answer in any state: "bridgeport, conn., aug. 2, 1910. "i have this day sold to calvin e. platt, of new haven, in this state, my team of bay horses, with their harness, one family carriage, and a two-seated cutter. "thomas p. fletcher." be sure, where the bill of sale includes many articles, to name every one of them in the bill. if paid for, whether by cash or a note, be sure to get a receipt for the same. obligations a bond is a form of obligation. every enforcible bond must be in writing and under seal. the maker of a bond by the act acknowledges a liability in the form of a debt or a duty. the maker of a bond is the "obligor." the party to whom it is made is the "obligee." the bond names the liability or indebtedness; then follows the condition wherein it is stated the particular thing that the obligor is to do, or not to do. the penalty for the non-compliance with a bond is twice the amount of the money involved. it is often required that the bond shall be further guaranteed by one or more sureties. these sureties may be required to certify that they are worth a certain sum, free and clear of all indebtedness. persons holding positions of financial trust, whether public or private, may be, and most of them are, required to furnish bonds for the faithful performance of their duties. in the larger cities there are casualty and liability companies, which, for a fixed or annual consideration, act as sponsors on official and other forms of bond. where there are no such companies, as those just named, then private citizens of known responsibility must be secured to go on the bond. in every case the amount of the bond or security is measured by the responsibilities of the man from whom it is required. chapter xix life insurance life insurance may be defined to be "a contract for the future payment of a certain sum of money to a person specified in the body of the policy, on conditions dependent on the length of some particular person's life." there are two parties to this contract--the insured and the insurer. the purpose of the insurer, if he take out the policy in his own name, is to provide in a measure for the care of his family, or other dependents, in the event of his death. after a long experience with the death rates in all lands that keep mortuary statistics, the actuaries of insurance companies can now estimate with surprising accuracy the probable length of life before any man of any age. the methods of insurance companies mean to be scientific, but be that as it may, they are certainly interesting. how it is done let us take a young man of thirty, married, with one child, in good health, and in receipt of a fair salary, but with no property to leave his wife and little one in the event of his death. to secure his dear ones, he decides to insure his life for, let us say, $3,000. he fills out the blank, in which his age and all the other required information is given; then the insurance company's doctor examines him and he is accepted as what is called "a good risk." now, from its actuary tables, the company knows, with reasonable accuracy, the number of years this young man should live, barring accidents. already they have their tables of calculations for such cases. they know what expense will be required in the way of rent, clerks, advertising, etc., to care for this case till the prospective, the inevitable end is reached. on these calculations the immediate and all subsequent premiums or payments are based. the insurance company invests and reinvests the premiums, and the total of these, it is estimated, will meet the expenses and the amount of the policy at the time of its calculated expiration. as an investment if the young man in question had the money, he would find it to his advantage to buy a paid up policy, that is one on which no further premiums would be required. but, having the money for a paid up policy, could not the young man, without any expense for clerk hire or rent, invest it, and reinvest it with the interest, as long as he lived, and thus make by insuring himself? there can be no question as to that, provided always that the young man lived out the calculated time, invested his insurance money at once, and kept on investing it in "safe things" as long as he lived. but how many young men are there who could or would take this course? it is much easier to save from our earnings than it is to invest those earnings wisely. forms of life insurance the straight life policy, payable to the heirs at death, is the form in general use, but there are others. there is yet another form, known as the "endowment," which in itself combines the usual life insurance with some of the privileges of a savings bank. the endowment policy, while payable if death should occur before a fixed time, specifies the date when it shall be payable to the insured himself, if he should live till that time. in this case the family is secured, in the event of death, and the insured has a guarantee for himself when he reaches life's unproductive years. the premiums on an endowment policy are necessarily greater than those on a regular life, and the premiums increase with the shortness of the time. mutual insurance societies seeing the vast sums accumulated by what are known as "the old line companies," despite their high salaries and great expenses, working men throughout the world, but more particularly in the united states, have banded together and formed mutual insurance companies. these companies, there are many of them, are known as societies, and their local branches are called "lodges," "councils" or a similar name. properly conducted, these mutual societies should be able to furnish insurance at about actual cost, for the expenses of management and collections are small. it can be said that some of them have been and are being well managed, but others, like their predecessors, the old line companies, have unfortunately been conducted for the enrichment of their promoters. the mutual insurance companies, like their more pretentious prototypes, are now placed under the supervision of inspectors in nearly all the states. amounts of policies in the society companies, there is a limit to the amount, usually $3,000, for which one can be insured, but the regular companies have no such limitation. in the mutual insurance companies, the insured cannot leave his insurance to his creditors, or to any one not within a certain degree of kinship. in the regular companies a man may insure for any amount he thinks he can carry, and he can insure in the same way in any number of companies, and he can leave the money to any one he may select, or for any purpose he may choose. sometimes the policy is made payable to unnamed executors. these may be named in a will made after he has taken out his policy. policies as security sometimes a man, without real estate or other personal assets, desires to raise a loan on his life insurance, which, it should be said, is a form of personal property. in this case he may assign his life policy, or his endowment policy, as security for the loan. again, if he is not insured and has no shadow of an asset, he may have his life insured for the benefit of another, in consideration for a loan. lapses when there is a failure to meet premiums, the policy is said to "lapse" or default. even in this case the insured has an equity. every policy, depending on the amount paid, has what is known as a "surrender value," and by proper process this may be collected from the company. in some states, if the insured fails to meet his premiums, the company is compelled to pay on the policy at his death a sum equivalent to that which he paid before default. some insurance policies have a clause stating that the contract will be void in the event of the suicide of the holder. the highest courts have set this clause aside. the ruling is that a suicide is an insane man, and that his heirs should not be made to suffer for his misfortune. proprietary and mutual companies the larger insurance companies may be either proprietary or mutual, some are a combination of both. the proprietary companies are corporations organized by a number of men to conduct life insurance as a business enterprise. such a company must be regularly chartered, and is under the supervision of the state department of insurance. mutual companies, as the name implies, are organized and are meant to be managed for the benefit of the policy holders, who are also regarded as stock holders, with the right to vote in the election of officers and other company affairs. aiming to create a strong reserve fund to secure the policy holders, the mutual life insurance companies usually charge a little more in the way of premiums. many rich men have their lives insured for great amounts. this is done that their heirs may not be forced to break up the estate, at death, in order to settle the ordinary liabilities. if it can be afforded, it is always well to carry some life insurance. chapter xx fire and accident insurance we hear and know much about life insurance because, no doubt, it has to do directly with the individual, and so has a personal appeal; but there are other forms of insurance, forms that have to do with things material, that play an important part in the world's business. like gambling the gambling spirit, like the desire for stimulants and the tobacco habit, seems to be well nigh universal. men bet on the turn of dice, the cutting of cards, or the tossing of a coin, and we very properly denounce it as gambling. we take money without giving an equivalent, or we part with it and have nothing to show for the transfer. there are insurance companies in england and in other parts of europe where they insure risks from life to fire, from ships to crops, and from the turning of a card to the tossing of a coin. the english company, known the world over as "lloyd's," is ready to insure an ocean liner, or to guarantee that the next child born into your family will be a boy or a girl; it will even insure that there will or will not be twins, and that, if twins, they will be boys or girls, or one of each. now, this looks like gambling, and you would be quite right in so classing it, yet it is founded on the well considered law of chance, and the premiums--call them bets--are calculated with a mathematical precision surprising to one who has not studied the matter. what is fire insurance? fire insurance is a contract between the insured and the company taking the risk, in which for a consideration called a "premium," the company agrees to pay to the insured a stated sum, should the property, named in the policy, be destroyed by fire. if there should be a fire, during the life of the policy, and the damage is not total, the company pays only enough to cover the loss. should the property be totally destroyed the company pays up to the amount named in the policy. no company cares to insure for the full amount of the property; that might be an incentive to incendiarism. in taking a fire risk, the companies base their estimates on tables as carefully worked out and from experiences quite as well studied as those of the actuaries of life companies. fire companies are purely business corporations, and their conduct is subject to the inspection of the officials of the state from which they receive their charters. premiums as life companies have rates dependent on the age of the insured, so fire companies regulate their premiums by the location and other circumstances of the buildings; in other words, they calculate the probabilities, and charge accordingly. there are buildings particularly subject to combustion on which american companies will not take a risk. among these may be classed kerosene and turpentine stills, sulphur and powder mills, and the buildings in which these products are stored. buildings not used for the purposes named, but in close proximity to them, are often considered too dangerous to warrant the issuance of a policy. in all cases, the company makes a careful survey of the property to be insured, and on this report the amount of the premium is based. premiums on fire policies must be paid in bulk and in advance. policies should be renewed some days before the expiration of the old ones. fire premiums, taking into consideration the amount to be paid, are much lower than life premiums. we know that a man must die, but a building may never burn down, therefore the risk is less. collecting a man may insure in a dozen life insurance companies, and each must pay the amount of the policy on his death, but not so with fire companies. a man owning a house worth, say ten thousand dollars, can insure it in ten companies, each taking a risk of eight thousand dollars. if this house burns down the man does not receive eighty thousand dollars. the actual loss is calculated and the companies divide it up, each paying its part. fire companies, while anxious to issue policies on every insurable house, are more than willing that their business rivals should do the same, as in the event of fire the burden of loss will not be borne by one. after every fire the company's agent examines the damage and estimates what is saved. on this the payment is based. insurable property a building is classed as real estate, but personal property is just as liable to be destroyed by fire. fire policies can be secured on goods, furniture, machinery, live stock and other things, and the method is about the same as where buildings are insured, but as a rule the premiums are higher, for such things are apt to be ruined by smoke and water, when the building in which they are stored may not be much injured. mutual companies men can associate for any legal purpose, and mutual protection against loss by fire is one of these. in many neighborhoods throughout the country, but particularly in the eastern states, there are mutual insurance companies, usually composed of a number of men who know each other and who agree to share the losses of a member, in proportions agreed to in advance. this form of insurance is cheap and effective, but the field of its operations is necessarily limited. stock companies the stock companies start with a fixed capital, each member receiving stock in proportion to the amount contributed. the capital and the interest from it, after paying the necessary expenses, is invested, and reinvested, till it often reaches a large sum. at the end of every fiscal year, usually june 30th, the expenses and the losses paid are deducted from the earnings and the net gain may be divided as dividends. often there are not only no dividends, but a great conflagration, like that of san francisco, may wipe out all the earnings, all the reserve and even the capital itself, leaving the company bankrupt and heavily in debt. great calamities cannot be foreseen. no actuary has yet appeared to forecast the acts of providence, but on the whole our fire insurance companies are well managed and prosperous. accident insurance we have insurance against storms, against the breaking of plate glass and even against loss from burglars, but the best known of the minor insurance societies are those known as "accident companies." accident policies are of many kinds, and there is no reason why the companies, under their charters, should not extend their risks indefinitely. accidents against property are insured much as is destruction from fire, but the nature of the accident as "hail," "explosions," "tornadoes" and "insect destruction" must be specified in the policy. the most popular form of accident policy is that which is sold to travellers, and which can usually be had at the office where one buys his ticket. the method here is simple, and the purchase may be made in a minute. "i want a policy for $1,000 for ten days," you say to the clerk. he tells you the amount, you pay and get your ticket, and there you are. prudent men have a stamped and addressed envelope ready. into this they push the policy, and the wife gets it. no, it does not startle her. it is just harry's prudence and she is used to that. chapter xxi partnerships if properly conducted, there is much to commend the management of a business through partners. never go into a partnership with a man who puts in his experience against your capital, unless you know him like a brother. "it lasted about a year," said a man who had done this. "now the fellow, who has cleared out, has the capital and i have the experience." a partnership is an agreement between two or more persons to associate for the purpose of carrying on a certain form of business. each member of a copartnership must contribute a stated contribution to the establishment of the enterprise, but each need not give the same amount. neither is it necessary that the contributions of each to the firm shall be of the same character. one may contribute a building, another machinery, or material, and still another money. the shares in the profits are based on the cash values of the different contributions. the work of the different parties may be estimated as contributions, but in such cases it is better to pay the worker a fixed compensation, and charge this to the expense account. prepare and sign never go into a partnership based on a verbal agreement, unless it be for the distribution of fish, game or nuts, when out with a friend for a holiday. have the copartnership articles carefully drawn up and signed before you put a cent into the undertaking. a document like this can be appealed to should disputes arise; and should a partner die, his heirs may find it of the greatest value. the articles should contain: 1. the amount to be contributed by each. 2. the nature of the business. 3. the time which the partnership is to last. if the time is not specified, a partner may withdraw whenever he pleases. if the profits are to be equally divided, this should be stated and provided for. silent partners when a man invests money in a business in the management of which he takes no active part, he is said to be a "silent partner." such a partner has a share in the gains and he is responsible as the others for the firm's liabilities. again, a man may not give money or time to a firm, but is willing, for business reasons, that his name shall appear as if he were in the association. in this case the man is known as a "nominal partner." although this man is not entitled to a share in the profits and has no money invested, yet he can be held liable for the debts and other obligations. the reason for this is very plain. liability in all matters rightly belonging to the business of a firm, any member has the right to act, and his acts will be held binding in law. it is usual for partners active in a business to have each his separate duties, but even if these duties be designated in the articles of agreement, the outside business world is not supposed to know anything about the relative duties of the members of a firm as decided among themselves, so it is decided that each is empowered to act for his partners. under the usual articles, it is stipulated that while a dual partnership lasts, neither of the members shall make a note, sign a bond, or enter on any outside obligation as an individual without having secured the written consent of his business associates. each partner in a firm is liable with the others for all the business indebtedness. if a firm fails, and the assets are found not sufficient to satisfy the creditors, they can levy for satisfaction on the private property of one or all of the partners. if a member of a firm should become so far indebted, as an individual, that he cannot comply with his obligations, the interest he holds in the firm may be disposed of and applied to the payment of his debts. this does not mean that the creditors may take or seize on any particular thing which the firm holds jointly, but that the debtor's interest in the concern may be so disposed of. all this the law has provided for. a new partner admitted into a firm cannot be held responsible for the debts of the old concern. how to dissolve every partnership agreement must provide for and distinctly state the period for which it is to continue. at the end of the period named, the partnership is dissolved by limitation. if the partnership is to continue, a new agreement must be made and signed. on proper application, a partnership may be dissolved by an order of the court. if a member who has become objectionable to his partners should not agree to a dissolution of the firm, the partners may apply to a court of competent jurisdiction for a decree of dissolution. no member of a firm can withdraw at his own option. the consent of the other partners is necessary, and before he is released he must provide for his share of the obligations. notice of dissolution should be published, and notices sent to agents and others interested. the following is the customary form of notice: the copartnership heretofore existing between john smith, harry roberts and thomas allen, under the firm name of smith, roberts & co., is this day dissolved by mutual consent. john smith. harry roberts. thomas allen. june 30, 1910. special partnerships limited or special partners are not recognized in some states. this is a method of association whereby a person joins a partnership, putting in a sum agreed on, and which he may stand to lose as an investment. he is entitled to a _pro rata_ in the profits, but he cannot be held for the debts. in some countries marriage is regarded as a civil contract or form of partnership, subject to dissolution by the courts. chapter xxii investments it is a remarkable fact that many men who have shown remarkable shrewdness in conducting a business in which a fortune may have been accumulated, exhibit the judgment of children when it comes to making investments. there are able lawyers who have made fortunes in the practice of the profession which they understood, only to lose them by investments in mines or other ventures, about which they knew absolutely nothing but what was told them by the scheming speculator and smooth-tongued promoter. as has been intimated before in these pages, there is a great difference between saving through and hoarding through a spirit of miserliness. savings every wage or salary earner, no matter how small his compensation, should try to lay by something of that little as a provision against the unproductive days. no matter how small the amount a man has set aside, after paying for life's necessities and meeting all just debts, he is to that extent a capitalist. the miser would hide his savings out of reach, but the man with the foresight to save will usually have the judgment to place these savings where they will fructify and grow, producing the fruitage known as interest. the young man or the young woman, or any one else who places his little accumulations in a savings bank, has begun a form of investment that may, if persisted in, place him or her above want, even if it does not entitle either to a place on the lists of great capitalists. capitalists the capitalist not only has money of his own to invest, but he may and very often does need more money properly to exploit the enterprises in which he is engaged. money loaned to such men, after being assured of their ability and integrity, is an advantage to the lender as it is to the user. the lender's profit is assured if the enterprise does not fail, and the added capital not only insures against failure, but it may enable the manager to succeed beyond any expectations he could have if forced to carry on the work with only his own resources. the capitalist may choose to buy land in the suburbs of a city and build thereon a house to be sold or rented. this should always be made to secure the money borrowed. a capitalist may establish a fund from which, on good security, the business men of the community may obtain loans, for which they get a higher interest than that which they undertake to pay to those whose money they are using. again a capitalist may undertake to loan to farmers, who have not the means to carry on the work, but who are anxious to make their lands more productive, through drainage and crop rotation. in this case the money loaned is secured by the usual bond and mortgage. or it may be that another body of men is anxious to start a great manufacturing enterprise in the neighborhood, but has not enough money to place the venture on a paying basis. in the latter case it appeals to the capitalist, and he, though not bearing enough available means of his own, undertakes the work with the knowledge that he can rely on the small investors, whose contributions he has before managed successfully. stockholders or it may be that the manufacturing company does not ask the capitalist to assist, but itself goes to the small investor with a prospectus of the enterprise, and offers to sell stock in the concern at $50 or $100 a share, as the case may be. this gives a chance to enjoy the profits, be they great or small; but with the chance for larger profits there comes the greater risk which must always be assumed in such cases. sometimes, when a company is starting, its stock may be put below par. this stock, in the event of success, may appreciate, as with some bank and other corporation stocks, many times above the par value. when stocks sell in the open market for their face value, they are said to be at par. kinds of stocks most companies, organized on a stock basis, issue stocks of two kinds. one is known as "common" the other as "preferred." as the name implies, preferred stock (its rate of interest is always fixed) is entitled to be paid out of the net dividends first. whatever is left after paying the preferred stock interest is divided up equally among the shares of common stock, each getting according to his holdings. sometimes the dividends on common stock are far greater than those on the preferred. the preferred stock dividends are regarded as a fixed charge, but there can be no limit as to the payments on the common stock, if the funds are available. the stocks of railroads, factories, banks and other enterprises may be good forms of investment, and for this they are often held for long periods by investors for revenue. most stocks, however, particularly of railroads, are continually changing hands. the buying and selling of such securities has grown to be an enormous business, managed largely by men known as "stock brokers," many of whom are strong factors in the financial world. as a rule, the buying and selling of stocks through brokers is a hazardous form of speculation, which has in it all the elements of gambling, and we cannot advise too strongly against it. there is another kind of stock, which some companies keep in their safes to meet an emergency. this is known as "treasury stock," and, like the preferred, its rate of interest is fixed. let us suppose that a company is capitalized and prints stock to the amount of $100,000. this company sells $80,000 worth, and the officers believe that they can force the enterprise to success with the money on hand. now, it follows that, with the same amount of earnings, the profits on $80,000 will be greater than on $100,000, so the $20,000 unsold stock is held in reserve. if to extend the business, or for any other reason, it is necessary to have more money, the treasury stock may be sold to secure the extra capital. if the business is placed on a basis where its success is beyond all question, then the treasury stock may be divided _pro rata_ between the holders of the other stock, for, till disposed of in some way, it was an asset common to the whole company. each stock certificate tells when dividends are declared; they may be paid quarterly, half yearly, or annually. chapter xxiii bonds as investments the best way in which savings can be invested is to use them in the extension of the business in which they were made. the wage earner and the man on a salary cannot, of course, do this, but the farmer, the small tradesman, and the mechanic, who is his own employer, may be able to do so. and so, before looking for a field for investment outside, such men should look about them and consider how best the money may be used right on the ground. as to bonds but after considering the points suggested, the man who has some money may not be able to find a secure and profitable place for it in or near his own home. one of the safest forms of investments is bonds, though, as with other forms of security, the rate of interest declines as the margin of safety increases. if a well-established stock company should wish for any reason to increase its available cash, it may issue bonds, or certificate of indebtedness, bearing from four to five per cent interest, payable semi-annually. these bonds may be transferred the same as stock. they are a good form of security when it is desired to borrow money from the bank, and for many purposes they are as available as so much cash. such bonds are issued for a specified number of years and have coupons attached, which are cut off when interest is due, and presented to the treasurer of the company for payment. these bonds are secured by a mortgage or deed of trust on all the property of the corporation they represent. to redeem these bonds, when due, the company annually sets apart a sum, known as a "sinking fund," for their redemption. such bonds are far safer than any form of the company's stock, for they bear interest that must be met, whether or not dividends are declared. as with a real estate mortgage, the property pledged in the bond should be defined. railroad bonds every railroad in the country has been built and equipped by the sale of its bonds. in such cases amounts of stock of the same, or approximately the face value of the bond, have been given to the purchaser as a bonus or inducement. of course, the controlling stock is always retained by the promoters; and it is through the representation of this stock that all the business of the corporation is carried on. the cases are few where any money was paid directly for the original issue of any railroad stock. bonds sold to build a road are usually known as "construction" bonds. there may be another bond issue for equipment--with a stock bonus--and still other bonds, each series stating the property pledged and the purpose for which the money from sales is to be used. the _christian herald_, in one of its recent financial articles, clearly defines this species of bonds, as follows: "railroad bonds are usually pledged by the president and treasurer of the railroad and by the trustees, to whom the bonds are made out, and who must defend the rights of bondholders, should the company fail to meet any of the obligations it undertook in the mortgage deed. "in other words, a bond is the corporation's promissory note for the money originally paid by the investor, with interest for the same, to be paid to the investor in stated amounts at stated intervals; and to guarantee its good faith in the matter, the company pledges the bondholder an interest in certain property in its possession. it follows that a bond has a first call upon the property rights of the corporation; that it represents something tangible; that it pays a definite amount of interest, and that it may be reduced at its full value at a certain time." buying bonds bonds, like wheat, have their selling prices quoted from day to day, and they are equally a thing of purchase and sale. there are banks and brokerage firms that make a specialty of bonds, and most of these houses are entirely reliable; still, the novice in such things would do well to investigate for himself before investing in any bond recommended by any seller. it is the purpose of the seller to sell; it should be equally the purpose of the buyer not to be "sold." our government, state and municipal bonds speak for themselves, and in the main require no examination as to the security, though there have been cities and even states that have defaulted in their payments. bond houses and banks of established reputation cannot afford to deceive; they receive their compensation in the way of commissions on sales, and their characterization of the bonds may be accepted without question, for they invariably investigate the bonds, before they lend their names to them by offering them for sale. if there is any doubt in the mind of the would be purchaser as to the character of the seller, that should be the first thing investigated. what the buyer must satisfy himself of is: 1. who is the seller? 2. what do the bonds represent? 3. are they negotiable? and 4. can they be sold again for about their face value? every one who has saved money, it is to be supposed, has a bank account and is acquainted with the president of his local bank. when in doubt, the advice of such a man may be of great help. chapter xxiv things to remember if a man is making a living he should not change his business after he has passed middle life, unless, indeed, he has a guarantee that the new venture will be greatly to his advantage. the best business for the average man is that which affords him the most pleasure in carrying it on, or at least with which he is most familiar. happiness in one's work means far more than the accumulation of a fortune in discomfort. don't deceive yourself having made your credit and business standing good, keep them good by an adherence to the same course. if you can avoid it, do not loan your name to every needy friend that comes along. your neighbors question your good judgment every time you have to meet a note which you were coaxed into endorsing. you would have saved yourself by loaning the money outright. do not deceive yourself into the belief that you are making money when, as a matter of fact, you may be losing. you buy an article for two dollars and sell it for two and a half, and you say to yourself: "there is fifty cents made." but is it? let us see. before crediting your business with that fifty cents, you should have considered these points. 1. the loss of interest on that two dollars. 2. your own time or other time paid for. 3. the capital invested in things not sold. 4. the rent. 5. the transportation, insurance, heat, light, bad accounts, unsalable goods, taxes, public donations, and the flood of items that go to swell the outlay of every merchant, whether in the great city or at the country crossroads. weeding out every man in trade should make an inventory of his stock at least once a year. having done this, he should give his stock a fresh appearance, whether new goods be added or not, by relegating to the scrap heap, cellar or the garret all the dingy, dirty, disreputable stuff that he could not sell or give away, and which has induced sore eyes whenever seen. keep a stock book. quite as important as keeping the stock in order is keeping the books in good shape. at least once a year the books should be weeded out. why carry as bills collectable accounts which you have been assured, for years, would never be paid? wipe them out and charge them to profit and loss. where machinery is used, it is a good plan to charge off every year ten per cent of the cost; this to make good the loss from wear and tear. it is only by annual house cleanings and account clearings that you can tell about how you stand. let your wife know it is usually wise for a woman, married or single, to keep her real estate and her money, if she have any, in her own name. so also with property bought with her money. in these cases the woman should deal with her husband, or the members of her family, the same as she would with strangers with whom she is transacting business. some may say that this suggests a want of confidence and a lack of that affection that should exist between husband and wife or near kinsfolk. such an objection is sheer sentimentality. be as open handed and generous as you will with your loved ones, but when it comes to business, let the work be done in a strictly business way or not at all. many a good business has gone to ruin after the death of the owner and manager because he had kept his wife in blank ignorance of his affairs and the way in which he conducted them. many a business, that just dragged along till the death of the manager, has sprung into new life when the widow took charge. this must in part be credited to natural ability and inborn pluck and energy, but even these gifts could not have availed if the woman had been left in ignorance of business methods. women, like men, are awkward in new positions, not so much from a want of ability as a lack of experience. put the average man suddenly in charge of a house, and he will soon demonstrate his helplessness. the woman's deftness comes from her experience. as far as it is possible, every husband should post his wife as to his methods of doing business. he should not keep her ignorant of his financial affairs. if he conceal from her the amount of his secure holdings, it may be that he hopes to surprise her at his death, or long before that event. but if he have any regard for his family, he should not hide from her the obligations which may spell ruin if the wife is not prepared in advance to meet them. whether the husband lives or dies, the wife must still care for the children and attend to her never-lessening household duties. think of her as taking on the added burdens of a business of which she is ignorant. there are many prosperous husbands to whom what has just been said will not apply, but if you should ask them the secret of their success they will not hesitate to tell you that when they married they took their wives into full partnership, business secrets and all. children and business when you send your children to school it is that the training there received may qualify them to fight the better the ceaseless life battle. of course, we should not regard all education from a business viewpoint. money apart, learning is its own greatest reward. it widens the horizon at every step, and lifts the soul into strength and a profounder worship. but it will not do to overlook the business side of the training which the child should receive in school and out of it. it is all very well to teach children the sources of the family revenue and the way to secure it. it is right that they should be impressed with the dignity of labor and trained in the ways of earning money, but it is far more important that they should be taught how to spend money, so as to get the most good from it, once it is earned. the boy or girl is in a safe way to learn self-control and build up character when he or she, with some nickels at command, can pass a candy or a fruit shop without being compelled to spend their cash assets. children, wherever it is possible, should be given opportunities for earning money, which they can feel is "really and truly" their own. they should not be made to feel that the money is not actually theirs, to do with as they please, but they should be taught selfdenial, and that they must not get rid of their earnings by the purchase of things not needed. on the farm, children unconsciously learn much through occasional work and constant observation, but away from the farm, boys and girls are apt to know little or nothing of the work in which the father, the bread winner, is engaged. where it is possible, the children should be made familiar by actual contact with the father's work. this knowledge may never be used, still it will have value as a factor in the child's training, for in our modern life all business is inter-related. let the youngsters know something about banks by entrusting them there when old enough. teach them to keep accounts of their own little money affairs, their earnings, their expenditures, and their balances. if they should borrow, even a cent, see that they return it at the time agreed on. impress on them the fact that debt is a burden which it is well to get rid of as soon as possible, if one would stand erect and be entirely free. all this can be quietly inculcated into the mind of the child without making him old-fashioned or miserly. the more he knows of the world the more he can enjoy it in a wholesome way. chapter xxv worth knowing if things are said in this chapter that seem like a repetition of things already told, it is that their importance warrants a repetition in another form. over-generosity "there are no pockets in a shroud," it is said. true it is that we cannot take material things with us to the other side of the grave, and so before the end comes it is well to make preparations for their disposition. there are three ways of getting possession of property: 1. to have it given. 2. to earn it. 3. to steal it. we shall not consider the last method; that is the business of the law, but let us look at the first. property is given in two ways: 1. by direct gift from one to another. 2. by will, when the amount is payable on the death of the donor. of course, the widow and children, if there be any, are first to be considered in either of the cases named. many people, when the end is nearing, think that it is better to make sure that their wealth will reach the right hands by giving it direct and at once. now, no matter the nobility of the motive that prompts such an act, it is one which, on the whole, cannot be commended. it is all very well to spend available means in order to set a son or daughter up in business, but such sums, if there are other heirs, should be charged against the share of the probable donee, with interest, and a record made of the same. under no circumstances should old people, who, after raising a family and living honorable lives, have saved enough to own their home and secure an income for their declining years, deed or give this property to their children, or to any one else, in consideration of their having all their subsequent wants met. the better way for the farmer, the merchant, or the manufacturer, when he feels the years pressing heavily and that he can no longer attend properly to the old demands on him, is to shift by a properly drawn contract the business management of the enterprise to his children, or to those whom he wishes to place in charge. in this way the ownership is not changed, and if the new management should prove to be inefficient, it can be placed in more efficient hands. care of wills as has been said, every person having property of any kind to dispose of should make a will. already ways have been given as to how wills should be made and estates administered, but to these it may be well to add another point. do not imagine that the making of a will shortens life. too often, after the demise of a testator who it is known has made a will, the heirs cannot find the document, and the lawyer who drew it knows nothing more about it. many men leave their wills with their lawyers. if this should not be done, then it would be well to keep it in the safe of the bank in which the testator has his account. but whether in these places or another, there should be no doubt as to the existence of a will, or the place in which it may be found. only the last will should be kept; all preceding wills should be destroyed. care of papers while writing about the care of wills, we are struck with the recollection that wills are not the only papers of value that are apt to be mislaid or lost. never pay out money without taking a receipt, and never receive money without giving one. you are not responsible for the care of the receipts you give, but you certainly are for the receipts you receive. the trained business man has a place for everything, but there is no reason why the man not so well trained should have to turn his shop or his home upside down every time he wants a paper that proves he has paid a bill, which he must pay again if that receipt is lost. everything may be regarded as "lost" that cannot be found, even if you are sure "it is about somewhere." no valuable paper should be "about." the only place for it is just where you can lay your hand on it when wanted. in addition to keeping your papers where they can be found the instant they are wanted, see to it that every paper is selfexplanatory and clear of meaning on the face of it. checks and stubs it has been advised that the stub be always filled out before the check, and that the check be then copied from the stub. this course will greatly lessen the chances of disagreement between the two. when the last check in the book has been filled and torn out, do not throw away the stubs. they contain important data and may be of use in proving payment should a question arise. in like manner, never destroy the cancelled checks handed you by the cashier when your bank account has been balanced. each of these checks, if drawn to order as it should be, is a receipt, a voucher, for some payment that may possibly be demanded again. be on the safe side. sending away money it may be well to repeat again, in more condensed form, just how money may be safely sent to a distance. 1. by bank draft, payable to your order and endorsed over to the person whom you wish to pay. the party receiving the draft must endorse it before he can collect, and this endorsement is a receipt for the money, as the cancelled draft must eventually come into your possession. 2. you can buy an express order up to fifty dollars, but you may send money in a package to any amount. only banks or large dealers in money do this. like the bank draft, the express order must be endorsed by the receiver, and the express company returns it to you, when it becomes a receipt. 3. by post office orders, up to one hundred dollars. 4. by postal notes, in small amounts. 5. by telegraph. 6. by transmitting a personal check. 7. by a trusted messenger authorized to get a receipt. the bank draft is the very best way of transmitting money. as has been said, drafts can be bought at any bank, and they should always be made payable to your order. you want to pay a bill of goods to lloyd, smith and company, new york, so you sign on the back of your draft for the amount: pay to the order of lloyd, smith and company, henry c. robbins. lloyd, smith and company must endorse the draft before it can be cashed. the draft, after payment, is returned to you, and it becomes the best form of receipt. lost in mails were you ever at the dead letter office in washington? if you have never paid such a visit, you can form no conception of the tons, the hundreds of thousands of letters and parcels that are lost every year in the mails. unaccounted for drafts, checks, postal orders, books, jewelry, medicine, everything, indeed, that the mails will agree to carry, may be found piled in that cemetery of lost communications, the dead letter office. have you added to the mortuary list? all these deaths, like many of living creatures, are due to carelessness. as a rule, the sender is to blame. he has misdirected. he has placed papers not properly folded in the envelope and then neglected to seal it. he has neglected to write any address at all, and dropped the letter into the box. again he has addressed the parcel, but neither men nor angels can decipher the writing. more about notes the note, as has been said, is one of the most usual forms of obligation, yet misunderstandings often arise as to its settlement. here are the points that must be attended to, nor shall we offer any excuse for repeating them collectively: 1. the date and amount must be so plainly written as to leave no doubt as to either. 2. the rate of interest, if any, must be clearly expressed. 3. the post office address of the signer or signees must be written opposite the name. 4. the note should be made payable at a definite place and on a definite date. 5. in taking a note or other obligation from a person who cannot write, be sure to have his "x" mark witnessed. should you receipt certificates of stock as security for the payment of a note, or the payment of any other debt, be sure to notify the company issuing them. in giving this notice, which should be done at once, state clearly the number of shares you hold, the number of the certificates and to whom issued. the enforcement of this rule will depend altogether on the character of the person with whom you are dealing. never, if you can help it, buy a past due note, especially if it is not secured by a mortgage. if a note, which a third party has endorsed, becomes due, never agree to an extension of time without getting the written consent of the endorser. many men have lost through their ignorance of this essential transaction. chapter xxvi look before you leap we are not quite through with the note. when making a payment of principal or interest on a note, be sure to take a receipt for the amount, stating specifically what the payment is to be credited to. in addition, if it be possible, see that the sum paid be endorsed on the back of the note itself. the endorsement of the sum paid on the back of the note bars its being negotiated for more than the amount actually due. sometimes the owner and the maker of a note live at points some distance apart. if you were the maker of the note, and wanted to make a payment, but wished to avoid the expense and annoyance of a trip, what should be done? in this case a good plan would be to write to the owner of the note, asking him to send it by a certain bank in your neighborhood where you can pay. the bank will receive the cash, make the endorsement in your presence, and then send its check for the amount with the note to the owner. you must pay the cost of this transaction. or you may send the amount to be credited on your note, through a bank draft, as already indicated. never destroy a cancelled note. notes in bank if you have money at a bank your note will form the chief evidence of indebtedness and be the paper for which the security is pledged. keep careful track of the date of payment and the amount. there must be no neglect or carelessness. never permit your note to go to protest. if for any reason payment cannot be made at the time fixed, then the better way is to go, as soon as this is learned, to the bank or other holder of the note, and frankly explain the situation. bankers are not shylocks. they realize that good and responsible men are often disappointed in their collections, or in the payment of a sum on which they depended for the settlement of their account with the bank, and in such a case they are usually willing to grant an extension. private individuals, as note holders, should be treated in just the same way. well to know when calling at a bank for your note, always give the exact date on which the note falls due. if the note belongs to another party, and is held by the bank for collection, then mention the name of the person to whom it was originally given. if the bank has sent you a written notice about the note, take the notice with you. it will be found to contain all the desired facts. banks keep their own notes in one place and those of their customers in another. banks keep each date by itself, and can so find required notes more readily if the owner's names and the dates are given. discharging liens remember a mortgage is a lien or security given for the payment of a note. if you get a mortgage, have it recorded at once. if you pay off a mortgage, take it at once to the office of record and have the discharge of the instrument properly entered on the folio in which the mortgage is recorded. many lawsuits have resulted from the temporary neglect of this important duty. be prompt, but not too prompt sometimes a man will give a number of notes and secure them by one mortgage. the notes may pass into the hands of a number of people. let us suppose that you hold one note and the mortgage, and that the mortgagee comes to you and tenders the amount of your note, should you then surrender the mortgage to him? by no means, until the last note is paid that mortgage remains as security, and the holder of it is responsible for its safety to the holders of the other notes. in such a case it is better to have the mortgage held by one party for the protection of all. be in no haste to invest when a person not accustomed to managing money comes into the possession of a sum that it is not safe to carry about in the pocket, what should he do with it? obviously the first answer to this question must be "he should put it in the bank." we have already given hints as to investments, and to these it is not necessary to refer again, we are now considering another and not an unusual phase of such a case. young men and women of all ages are very apt to be inexperienced in these matters. as soon as it becomes known that such people have come into the possession of a goodly amount of cash, which they are not considered competent to manage, it is surprising how past acquaintances suddenly pose as old and unselfish friends, each with a scheme for doubling the money while the owner is looking at it. now, there may be good, honest friends who are eager to advise and help in a case of this kind, but they are sure to be outnumbered by advisers who have their own little axes to grind. our advice is "don't be in a hurry to invest. your cash is quite safe while in bank." but no matter how promising, do not invest your money in a business you know nothing about, even if it does carry with it a position and a salary. find a good honest lawyer, despite sneers to the contrary, we believe most men in the profession are of this character, and ask his advice, and pay for his help if papers are to be drawn. buying rentable real estate is usually a good investment, provided always that the price is reasonable, the title clear, and the chances of its advancement pretty certain. meet your dues promptly it is estimated that every man and woman in the united states belongs to one or more societies of some character, and this is not an overstatement. every member of such an organization is such by reason of election and the payment of dues. if you are a member of, or a pledged contributor to, a church, lodge, grange, or other society, you should regard the prompt payment of your dues as sacred as any other form of obligation. the expenses of a properly conducted church are always considerable, even in small communities. it is a disgrace to the christian organization that, after forcing down the pastor's compensation to the barest cost of life's necessities, then force him to run into debt if he and his family would live, or to be forced continually to remind the trustees that his salary is far in arrears. if you belong to a lodge or other society, leave it if you honestly feel that you cannot afford the dues. neglect to do this and your name will be dropped from the rolls on which it never should have been placed. counting money never receive money from any one without counting it. count it at once and in the presence of the giver. let it make no difference, banker, merchant, kinsman or friend, do not fear to give offence, but right then and there, count the money he gave you. of course, these people are honest, but did it ever occur to you that honest people often make mistakes? whenever you pay another money, if he does not do so himself, you should insist that he count it in your presence. if you do this you won't lose a friend, but if you do not do it you may make an enemy, should the man come back to say you made a mistake and underpaid him, and you very properly refuse to honor his claim. ready money do not, if you can possibly avoid it, keep money around your house, in your place of business, or on your person. the professional thief is ever on the watch for chances to take unto himself all the money in sight. pickpockets reap their harvest from money carriers. the burglar may steal or fire may destroy money left in the house. a bank, if not near one then a safe, is the best place for money, though safes have been broken into and robbed. do not make a display of money at any time, but particularly in a public place. if you are drawing money from a bank, count it quickly and quietly, then secure it in an inside pocket that cannot be reached without unbuttoning. never cash a check for a man whom you do not know to be square. the same applies to the endorsement of checks. in travelling always be courteous in travelling, but never take the chance acquaintance of the steamboat or car into your confidence. keep an eye on the man who "fortunately is going just your way." watch out for the fellow who knows the leading men of your town and is a cousin of judge smith. do not respond if such men ask you to cash a small check or make a slight advance till his draft arrives. do not accept the invitation of strangers to visit any place. avoid the confidence of the over-dressed, but slightly intoxicated young fellow who "has been out with college chums." he is not a college man, nor has he been drinking. chapter xxvii contractions and signs used in business " italian ditto--the same as above. â° degrees. ' primes, minutes, test. " seconds, inches. thus, 7â° 20' 10" in circular measure, or 7' 20" 10''' in duodecimal long measure. i1 one and one-fourth. i2 one and one-half. i3 one and three-fourths. + latin plus, more--addition. latin minus, less--subtraction. x by, or into. multiplication. also area, as 20 x 5, read 20 by 5, means 20 long and 5 wide. ã· divided by--division. the : above is also a sign of division as used in ratio, thus, 4:7; and the â�� alone is a sign of division as used in writing fractions, thus, 4/7. = equals. the double ::, as used in proportion, is also a sign of equality, thus, 4:7::12:21. % per centum. by the hundred. rate of interest. p per, by or through. $ dollars; said to be a contraction of u. s. for united states money. # means number, if before a figure, as #90, but pounds if written after, as 90#. @ latin ad., meaning to or at. a1. first class, the best. a. or ans. answer. acc., acct. or a/c, account. adv. latin ad valorem, according to value. admr. administrator. admx. administratrix. adv. or ad., advertisement. agt. agent. amt. amount. a/o at sight or account sales. ass'd. assorted. asst. assistant. bal. balance. b.b. bill book. bbl. barrel or barrels. bdls. bundles. b/e bill of exchange. bgs. bags. bk. bank; book. bkts. baskets. b/l bill of lading. blk. black. bls. bales. bot. bought. b.p. bills payable. b.rec. bills receivable. bro't. brought. bu. bushel or bushels. bx. box or boxes. cash. cashier. c.b. cash book. chgs. changes. chts. chests. c.h. court house; custom house. c.f.s. carriage and insurance free. cks. casks or checks. clk. clerk. co. company; county. c.o.d. cash, or collect, on delivery. col. collection. com. commission. const. consignment. cor. sec. corresponding secretary. cr. credit; creditor. c.s.b. commission sales book. ct. or c. cent, latin centime, a hundred. cts. cents. cwt. a hundred weight. d. b. day book. d/d. days after date. dept. department; depment dft. draft; defendant. disct. discount. div. dividend, division; divide, divisor. do. the same. doz. dozen. dr. debtor; doctor. d/s or d.s. days after sight. ea. each. e.e. errors excepted; ells english. e.g. latin exempli gratia. for example. encl. enclosed. e.&o.e. errors and omissions excepted. et. al. latin et alii, and others. exch. exchequer; exchange. ex'x. executrix. exp. export; exporter; expense. fahr. fahrenheit. fav. favor. fir. firkin. fo. or fol., folio. f.o.b. free on board. fo'd. forward. fr. from. frt. freight. gal. gallon; gallons. gr. grain, grains. guar. guarantee. hdk'f. handkerchief. hf. chts. half chests. hhd. hogshead. hon. honorable. hund. hundred. i.b. invoice book. i.e. latin id est. that is. incor. incorporated. ins. insurance. inst. instant, the present month. int. interest. in trans. latin, in transito. in the passage. inv. invoice. inv. inventory. jr. junior. kg. keg. l or lb. latin libra, a pound in weight. l/c letter of credit. led. ledger. l.f. ledger folio. l.s. left side, or in latin, locus sigilli, place of the seal. m. one thousand. manuf. manufacture; manufacturer. mdse. merchandise. mem. memorandum. messrs. french messieurs, gentlemen, sirs. mf'd. manufactured. mfst. manifest. mme. madame, french. mmes. mesdames, plural. mo. month. mol. molasses. mr. master or mister. mrs. mistress, usually pronounced "missis." mtg. mortgage. n.a. north america. nav. navigation. n.b. latin nota bene. note well, or take notice. no. or # number. n.p. notary public. o.b. order book. o.k. all correct. oz. ounce or ounces. p. page; pint; pile; part. payt. payment. pcs. pieces. pd. paid. per an, or p. a., latin per annum. by the year. % per cent. by the hundred. pk. peck. pkg. package. p.& l. profit and loss. p.o.d. pay on delivery. p.o.o. post office order. pp. pages. pr. or per. by. prem. premium. prox. latin proximo menve. next month. p.s. post script. pub. publisher; public. pwt. pennyweight. qr. quire; quarter, 28 lbs. qt. quart; quantity. rec'd. received. ret'd. returned. r. r. railroad. ry. railway. s.b. sales book. sch. schooner. shipt. shipment. s.o. seller's option, a stock phrase. sig. signature. s.s. steamship. st. saint; street; sight. st. dft. sight draft. stor. storage. str. steamer. sunds. sundries. supt. superintendent. t.b. time book. treas. treasurer. ult. latin, last month. u.s.a. united states of america. united states army. u.s.m. united states mail. u.s.n. united states navy. ves. vessel. via. by way of. latin. v.-pres. vice-president. viz. contraction from latin videlicet. namely, to wit. vol. volume. vs. latin versus. against. w.b. way bill. wt. weight. x extra. xx doubly extra. y. or yr. year. yd. yard. chapter xxviii words and phrases used in business account current. a running account between two persons or firms. account sales. a detailed statement of the sale of goods by a commission merchant, showing also the charges and net proceeds. administrator. a man appointed by the court to settle the estate of a deceased person. administratrix. a woman appointed by the court to settle the estate of a deceased person. ad valorem. according to value. a term used in the custom house in estimating the duties on imported goods. affidavit. a written declaration under oath. annuity. an annual allowance; a sum to be paid yearly, to continue for life or a fixed period. annul. to cancel; to make void. antedate. to date before time of writing. appraised. the act of placing a value on goods. appraiser. a person appointed to value real or personal property. arbitration. the settlement of a disputed question by a person chosen by the parties to the dispute. assets. the total resources of a person in business. assignee. a person to whom the property of a bankrupt, or an insolvent debtor, is transferred for adjustment for the benefit of auditors. assignment. the act of transferring property to the assignee. attachment. a warrant for the purpose of seizing a man's property. balance sheet. a statement in condensed form, showing the condition of a business. bankable. receivable at a bank at par or face value. bank balance. net amount on deposit in bank. bill of lading. a written account of goods shipped, and the condition of same, having the signature of the carrier, and given to shipper as a receipt. bill of sale. a bill given by the seller to the buyer, transferring the ownership of personal property. board of trade. an association of business men for the regulation of commercial interests. bona fide. latin, in good faith. bond. an instrument under seal, by which a person binds himself, his heirs or assigns, to do or not to do certain things. bonded goods. goods stored in a bonded warehouse or in bonded cars, the owner having given bonds securing payment of import duties, or of other sums due the government, upon their arrival at some specified place at a specified time. bonded warehouse. is a building in which goods are stored until the duties or revenues on them are paid. bondsman. one who goes security for the faithful performance of a contract. bonus. a premium for a loan or other privileges. broker. an agent or middleman between the buyer and the seller. bullion. uncoined gold or silver. charter. a written authority from the proper national or state authority defining the rights and privileges of corporations. charter party. a written contract for the hiring or chartering of a ship. chattel. any kind of property except real estate. collateral. pledges of stocks, notes, or chattels as security for the payment of a loan. commerce. the business of exchanging commodities between different places. commission agent. one who does business on commission. common law. the unwritten law, the law of custom. it receives its force from universal usage. consignee. the person to whom goods are sent to be sold on commission. consignor. the one who consigns his goods to an agent. contra. latin. on the opposite side. copartnership. the joining of two or more persons into one firm for the purpose of carrying on any business. coupon. an interest note or certificate, attached to a bond, which is cut off for collection when interest is due. credentials. testimonials of authority; proofs of good character, demurrage. money forfeited for detaining a vessel beyond the time named in her charter party. dishonor, a failure to pay a note or other obligation when due. a failure to accept a draft when presented for acceptance. dockage. charge for the use of a dock. dower. the right of a widow to a one-third interest in all the real estate owned by her husband at any time after their marriage. draft. a written order for the payment of money at a fixed time. drawee. the person on whom a draft is drawn. duress. personal restraint of any kind. earnest. part of purchase money paid to bind a bargain. effects. goods, or property, of every kind. embargo. an order of the government preventing ships from departing or landing. equity. the principles of right and justice. equity of redemption. the right allowed a mortgagor of a reasonable time to redeem mortgaged realty. execution. a writ authorizing an officer to carry into execution the judgment of the court. fee simple. a title to real estate held without conditions by a person in his own right. forced sale. sale made under compulsion. forwarder. one who attends to the shipping and reshipping of goods. gross weight. weight of goods, including case or wrapping. guarantee. a surety for the performance of a contract. honor. to pay or accept a draft when due. import. duty paid on goods by importer. indemnify. to recompense for loss or injury. indemnity. a guaranty against loss. indenture. a writing containing a contract. indorse. to write one's name on the back of a note, draft, or other document. injunction. a writ of court, by which a party is restrained from doing a certain act. inland bill. a draft between parties in the same country. insolvency. inability to pay debts, bankruptcy. intestate. dying without having made a will. in transitu. in a state of going from one place to another. latin. inventory. an itemized list of goods, or other property, with their value as estimated at the time. invoice book. a book in which invoices are kept. jettison. goods thrown overboard to lighten a ship in time of great danger. jobber. one who buys from the producer to sell to the retailer. job lot. an irregular collection. odds and ends unsold at the end of the season. judgment. the decision of a court. lease. a contract granting possession and use of property for a specified time. legacy. a bequest; a gift of property by will. lessee. one to whom a lease is made. letter of credit. an open letter authorizing the bearer to receive money on the credit of the writer. license. a legal permit to carry on a certain business. lien. a legal claim on property, which must be settled before property can be sold. lighter. a flat-bottom boat used in loading and unloading vessels at anchor. lighterage. charges for use of lighter. manifest. a list of articles comprising ship cargo. margin. difference between buying and selling price. marine. pertaining to the sea. maturity. the date when a commercial paper becomes due. mercantile agency. a company that collects for the use of its patrons information as to the standing of all business men in the country. mercantile law. law pertaining to business. mortgagee. the person in whose favor a mortgage is made. mortgagor. the person who gives a mortgage. negotiable. that which is transferable by delivery, assignment or indorsement. net. clear of all charges. net proceeds. the remainder after deducting charges from sales. net weight. weight after deducting all allowances. nominal. existing in name only. notary public. an officer authorized to administer oaths and take acknowledgments. open account. an account unsettled. outlawed. a debt which has run beyond the time when the law will enforce payment. par value. the expressed value of any commercial paper. parol. verbal, not written or sealed. pawn broker. one licensed to loan money on personal property. payee. the person to whom money is to be paid. payer. the person who promises to pay. plant. the entire establishment necessary to carry on a manufacturing business. post date. to date after real time of writing. power of attorney. a written authority from a principal to another, authorizing him to act in his stead. price current. a list of articles with market values. primage. a percentage allowed to the master of a vessel on the amount of cargo carried. prima facie. on the first look or view. pro rata. a proportional distribution. latin. protecting a draft. accepting a draft to prevent its being protested. protest. a formal declaration by a notary that a note was not paid at maturity, or that any other monetary obligation was not met when due. receiver. a person appointed by the court to take charge of a firm or corporation on its dissolution, and to distribute its property according to law. rescind. to revoke, countermand or annul. resources. every form of convertible asset. revocation. the recall authority conferred on another. salvage. the allowance made by law to persons who voluntarily assist in saving a ship or her cargo from destruction. shipping clerk. one who attends to shipping goods. silent partner. one who shares in the profits of a firm, though his name does not appear, nor does he take an active part in its affairs. sinking fund. a sum of money set apart for the liquidation of debts. stock. capital invested in trade. goods on hand. capital stock. the capital of a corporation as shown by its shares. common stock. that stock which entitles the owner to an equal proportionate dividend of the corporate profits and assets, with one shareholder or class of shareholders having no advantage or preference over another. preferred stock. that stock which entitles the owner to dividends out of the net profits before or in preference to the holder of common stock. watered stock. stock which purports to represent, but does not honestly represent, money paid into the treasury of a corporation. stock exchange. a place where brokers and others meet to buy and sell stocks and bonds. stockholder. one who owns shares in a joint stock company or corporation. stoppage in transit. the right which the seller has to stop the goods he has shipped any time before they reach the buyer. syndicate. a number of men who unite to conduct some commercial enterprise. tare. an allowance made for the weight of boxes, barrels, etc., in which goods are shipped. tenant. one who holds real estate under lease. tender. an offer; a proposal for acceptance. tickler. a book containing a memorandum of notes and other obligations in the order of their maturity. time draft. a draft maturing at a fixed future date. trade discount. a discount or series of discounts from the prices made to dealers, or because of a change in prices. trustee. one who holds any business or property in trust. underwriter. one who insures. usury. the taking of more than the legal interest. voucher. papers and documents that prove the truth of accounts. waybill. a paper containing a list of goods shipped. wharfage. money paid for use of a wharf. wharfinger. one in charge of a wharf; the owner. wholesale. to sell goods in large quantities, in whole or unbroken packages. writ. an order issued from a court to one of its officers; or to one or more litigants where an injunction is issued. the end produced from images made available by the hathitrust digital library.) [illustration: we shut up the doors and counted up to see what we'd done] ----------------------------------------------------------------------- mark tidd in business by clarence b. kelland author of "mark tidd" "thirty pieces of silver" etc. grosset & dunlap publishers new york by arrangement with harper & brothers ----------------------------------------------------------------------- mark tidd in business copyright, 1915, by harper & brothers printed in the united states of america ----------------------------------------------------------------------- mark tidd in business chapter i the wicksville paper told how there wouldn't be any school for six weeks, on account of somebody getting diphtheria. that same afternoon my father didn't get out of the way of an automobile and got broke inside some place, so he had to go to the hospital in detroit to have it fixed. "james," says my mother--that's my real name, but the fellows call me plunk--"i've--i've got to go with--your father." she was crying, you see, and i wasn't feeling very good, i can tell you. "and," she went on, "i don't know what--we shall ever do." "about what?" i asked her, having no idea myself. "the store," she says. i saw right off. you see, my father is mr. smalley, and he owns smalley's bazar, where you can buy almost anything--if father can find where he put it. with father gone and mother gone there wouldn't be anybody left to look after the store, and so there wouldn't be any money, because the store was where money came from, and then as sure as shooting the smalley family would have a hard time of it. it made me gloomier than ever, especially because i didn't seem to be able to think of any way to help. mother went up-stairs to father's room, shaking her head and crying, and i went outdoors because there didn't seem to be anything else to do. i opened the door and stepped out on the porch, and right that minute i began to feel easier in my mind, somehow. the thing that did it was just seeing who was sitting there, almost filling up a whole step from side to side. it was a boy, and he was so fat his coat was 'most busted in the back where he bulged, and his name was mark tidd. that's short for marcus aurelius fortunatus tidd, and you maybe have heard of him on account of the stories tallow martin and binney jenks have told about him. yes, sir, the sight of him made me feel a heap better. "hello, p-plunk!" he stuttered. "how's your f-f-father?" "got to go to the hospital," says i, "and mother's goin', too, and there won't be anybody to mind the store, and there won't be any money, and we don't know what we're a-goin' to do." i was 'most cryin', but i didn't let on any more than i could help. "w-what's that?" asks mark. i told him all over again, and he squinted up his little eyes and began pinching his fat cheek like he does when he's studying hard over something. "l-looks bad, don't it?" he says. "awful," says i. "m-must be some way out," he says, which was just like him. he never bothered fussing about how bad things looked. as soon as they began looking bad he started in to find some way of fixing them up so they'd be better. always. he kept on thinking and then he turned to me, and i saw right off he'd seen something to do. "n-no school for six weeks," says he. "i know," i says, not seeing what that had to do with it. "g-gives you and me and t-tallow and binney all the t-time to ourselves," says he. "sure," says i, not seeing yet. he wrinkled his pudgy nose sort of disgusted at me. "d-don't you figger," says he, "that four b-boys is 'most equal to one m-m-man?" "maybe," says i. "even if the man is your f-f-father?" then i saw it, and it sort of scared me. it looked to me like a bigger job than mark ever tackled yet. "you don't mean for us boys to run the store?" i says. "sure," says he. "but runnin' a store's business," says i. "b-b-business," says mark, "hain't nothin' but makin' m-money out of somethin' you like to do. p-poor business men is them that tries to make money out of somethin' they d-don't like to do." "um," says i. "we'll enjoy runnin' the bazar," says he, as if the whole thing was settled. "i'm afraid," says i. "s'pose we was to bust the business." "we won't," says he. "l-let's talk to your ma about it." we went in, and after a while my mother came down-stairs. i felt sort of foolish when i told her mark's idea, and it didn't get any better when she said, "bosh!" but i was forgetting about mark. he started in to talk to mother, and he spluttered and stuttered along for fifteen minutes, arguing and wiggling his stumpy fingers, and explaining to her how easy running a bazar was, and just why he and tallow and binney and i were a lot better able to do it than anybody else on the face of the earth. why, i began to believe him myself! so did mother. mark knew just how to go at it. at the start, when she didn't want to listen, he talked so fast she couldn't find a chance to tell him to keep quiet, and by the time he was beginning to slacken up mother was bobbing her head and almost smiling, and saying, "yes, yes," and, "do you honestly think you could?" and, "i _don't_ see why i didn't think of it myself," and things like that. "why," says mark, "you d-d-don't need to worry about the bazar a minute. just look after mr. smalley." "i wish i could ask your father's advice," mother said to me, finally, "but i daren't. i'll just have to decide myself. and it seems like there wasn't but one way to decide. i won't say a word to father about it.... you can try, boys ... and it will be a--miracle--a blessed miracle if it--comes out all right." then she started to cry again. mark, he waddled over and patted her on the back and says, soothing-like, "jest you t-t-trust _me_, mrs. smalley--and don't worry--not a mite." it ended up by mother giving me the keys to the bazar, and kissing me and mark, and telling us she was proud of us, and--hurrying out of the room so we couldn't see her cry any more. mark looked at me and scowled. "looky there, now," he says. "looky there. guess we g-g-got to make a go of it. calc'late she's got trouble enough without us makin' it worse.... c-come on." we went out and found binney and tallow. at first they wouldn't believe us when we told them, but when they did believe they set up a whoop like somebody'd up and given them a dollar to spend for peanuts. anybody'd think running a bazar was some kind of a circus, which it isn't at all, because i've worked for dad holidays and saturdays sometimes, and i know. "when do we start?" asks tallow. "f-f-first thing in the mornin'," says mark. "when they goin' to take your father?" binney asks me. "on the five-forty to-night," i told him, "and i guess i'll be goin' home to see if there hain't somethin' i can help with." "where you goin', mark?" "home, too. i got consid'able th-thinkin' to do. how'd you expect me to m-make money with this business if i don't study it some?" anybody'd 'a' thought it was his business, to hear him talk, and i guess he'd already begun thinking it was. no matter what he tackled, he was just that way. every time he set his heart on doing something, whether it was for himself or for somebody else, he went at it like he owned the whole shebang and had to come out on top or get dragged off to the poorhouse. i started to walk off, but mark called after me: "b-b-better gimme those keys. i'll be down 'fore you are in the mornin', and maybe i'll have to go down to-night." well, sir, i handed over the keys and didn't say a word. i could see who was going to be the head of that business while dad was gone, and that feller's name wasn't plunk smalley. "i hope," says i, after thinking it over a minute, "that you'll at least give me a job." "huh!" snorts mark. "if you don't git wider awake than you usually be i dun'no's the business can afford to h-have you around." but right after that he grinned, and when mark tidd grins nobody can be mad with him or envy him or think he is bossing the job more than he ought to. "t-tell your mother not to worry," he yelled after me. it was possible for mother to go with father and leave me at home because aunt minnie was there. aunt minnie was my father's sister, and she lived with us because if she hadn't she would have had to live alone, and she couldn't live alone because she was afraid. one day i started to count up the things aunt minnie was afraid of, but it wasn't any use. i guess if she was to set out and try she could be afraid of _anything_. she was afraid of pigs, and of thunder, and of tramps, and of bumblebees, and of the dark, and of sun-stroke, and of book agents, and of-why, once she lay awake all night and shivered on account of a red-flannel undershirt hanging on the line. i'd rather have stayed at mark's house or somewheres than with her, but it wasn't any use. there's no fun staying with a woman that's all the time squealing and squinching and jumping like somebody shoved a pin into her. that night, after father and mother were gone, aunt minnie wouldn't let me go out of the house, because, says she, like as not burglars have been watching for just such a chance for years, hanging around wicksville, waiting for this house to be left with nobody but her in it. it didn't seem to me like it would be worth a burglar's time to wait many years for a chance at what was in our house. but you couldn't reason with aunt minnie, so i had to sit in the house right when i wanted to see mark tidd the worst kind of way. along about half past eight there come a rap at the door, and aunt minnie let out a yell that startled me so i was close to seeing burglars myself. it wasn't, though; it was mark. "come in," i says to him. "i'm pretty busy keepin' out robbers, but i guess i can find a minute to talk with you." he just grinned, because he knew aunt minnie. "i've b-been down to the store," says he. "oh!" says i. "just lookin' around," says he, "to g-git an idee." "did you git one?" says i. "i did," says he. "i got the idee that n-n-nobody could find what he was lookin' for in that bazar 'less he did it by accident." "pa used to have that trouble," says i. and it was a fact. i've known pa to spend the whole morning looking for a spool of darning-cotton--hours after the customer that wanted it had got tired and gone home. but pa never got provoked about it; he always kept on till he found it, and then put it handy. next day if somebody come in for a brush-broom that pa couldn't find, he'd try to sell them the darning-cotton instead. old ike bond, the 'bus-driver, used to say that if pa didn't have anything to sell but one spool of thread, and that was hanging by a string in the middle of the store, he never would find it without the sheriff and a search-warrant. "f-first thing for us to do," says mark, "is to f-find _everything_. got to know what we got to sell 'fore we can sell it." that sounded likely to me. "and," says he, "we got to hustle." "why?" says i. "to get a head start," says he. "a head start of what?" "the other bazar," says he. i grinned because i thought he was joking, and said to git out, because there wasn't any other bazar. "worse'n a bazar," says he. "it's one of those five-and-ten-cent stores." "be you _crazy_?" i says. "they've rented that vacant s-s-store of jenkins's, and there's a big sign sayin' they'll be open for b-business monday." well, sir, i was what aunt minnie calls flabbergasted. why, wicksville wasn't big enough for two bazars--it was hard enough for _one_ to make a living. "i--i hope it's a mistake," says i. "oh, i dun'no'," says mark, sort of squinting up his little eyes. "i g-guess we'll git along somehow--and it'll be more fun." "fun?" i says. "fun," says he. "hain't it more f-f-fun to play a ball game against another team than it is to bounce a ball against the side of the house all alone?" now, wasn't that just like him! if a thing was easy he didn't take any interest in it, but just the minute you put some kind of a _contest_ into it, then mark couldn't start in fast enough. "maybe it'll be fun for you," i told him, "but what about the smalley family that expects that bazar to pay for what they eat?" "plunk," says mark, "don't git licked before the f-f-fight begins." "we can't sell as cheap as those five-and-ten-cent stores. i've heard pa say so." "i hain't so s-sure," says mark. "we'll cross that bridge when we come to it.... you be d-down to the store at seven o'clock," says he, and waddled off home. now, wouldn't anybody think it was _his_ store? wouldn't they? it looked to me like he was trying to be the whole thing, but you can bet i didn't feel that way before we were through with it. i was all-fired glad mark tidd was around with his schemes and his plans and his way of running everything in general. chapter ii i thought i'd steal a march on mark tidd next morning, and got to the bazar at half past six instead of seven. i figured he'd come mogging along in half an hour and i'd have some pretty smart things to say. but when i got there i found the door open, and inside was mark with his coat off and dust on his nose and dust on his hands, digging around among the stock to see what was there. "there's enough st-stuff here for three bazars," he says to me like he judged it was _my_ fault. "all the more to sell," says i. "there's truck here you couldn't t-t-trade to injuns for pelts," says he, and then he grinned, "but maybe we can sell 'em to white folks for m-money." "when does the new store open?" "monday." "and this is wednesday." i expect i said it sort of downhearted, for mark wrinkled his nose like he does when he doesn't like anything, and says: "figger on shuttin' the door and lettin' 'em have the t-town to themselves?" "no," says i. "then," says he, "git a box of starch from the grocery and f-f-fix up your spine with it." "they'll have a grand openin'," says i. "to be sure. and we'll have somethin' that'll make a grand openin' look like scratchin' a match at the eruption of vesuvius." right there i saw he had a scheme already hatched, but he didn't go any further with it and i knew it wasn't any use to ask questions. he'd tell when he was ready. "come on," says he, "and let's find out what's here to sell." we began rummaging around, and every minute or so we'd find something that father had tucked away years ago and forgot. every shelf was full. there'd be a row of things in front, and then rows of other things behind that had been pushed out of sight. i had a sort of an idea it was that way, but in half an hour i was so surprised at the things we'd dug up that there wasn't any more room for surprise in me. by that time binney and tallow got there and mark set them to work. "th-there's goin' to be _system_ in this store," he says. "each of you has got to be one of these things they call specialists." my, how he spluttered on that word! "as how?" asked binney. "each feller will take so much of the s-store, and he's got to know where every single thing in his department is so he can put his hand on it in the d-dark." we poked around and overhauled things and sorted and fixed up till 'most noon. a couple of folks came in to buy things and stopped to talk and grin at us, and one old lady predicted we'd turn the bazar into what she called a bedlam in a week. nobody seemed to think it was anything but a joke, but it wasn't any joke to us, i can tell you. we were _working_. yes, sir, if anybody ever worked, we did. along about eleven in come a man i never saw before. he was pretty tall, and half of him looked like it was neck. that neck stuck out through his collar so far you had to keep lifting your eyes a full minute before you got to his head. his hair was kind of pinkish, and his eyes were so close together they almost bumped when he winked. outside of that he looked like any other man except for a wart just on one side of his nose. it was the finest wart you ever saw, and he must have been proud of it. i don't know as i ever saw a wart that came anywhere near it. i went up to wait on him. "howdy, my lad?" says he, sort of oozy-like. it made me mad right off, because there's nothing that riles a boy so as to have some man grin soft-soapy and call him a lad. what is a lad, anyhow? i never saw one, and i never saw anybody that would own up to being one. but you mustn't get mad at customers, so i was as polite as a girl at a party. "pretty well, sir. what can i do for you?" "is the proprietor in?" he wanted to know. "no, sir," says i. "he's out of town and we don't know just when he'll be back." "who's in charge durin' his absence?" says the man, talking like a college professor looking for a job. i was going to say i was, but before i spoke up i knew _that_ wasn't the truth. not a bit of it. mark tidd was in charge, and don't you forget it. being in charge was a habit he'd got, and nobody will ever cure him of it. "why," says i, "mark tidd is the boss right now." "i'd like to speak to him," says he, so i turned and called. mark came waddling up with the dust still on his nose and more dust on his fingers, and what you might call a freshet of sweat cutting streaks down his face. "this," says i, "is mark tidd, our manager," and then i stood off to see what would happen. mr. long neck wrinkled his nose till his wart moved up almost to his eyebrows and squinted at mark. "i hain't here to be made fun of," says he, mad-like. mark turned his head on one side, and that's a dangerous sign. when you see him pull his cheek or turn his head on one side or go to whittling--well, you want to look out, for something is going to happen. "what can i do for you?" mark asked, without a stutter. "i want to see somebody in authority," says mr. long neck. "i'm the b-b-best we got," says mark, smiling sweet as honey. the man looked all around and didn't see anybody older than we were, so i guess he must have believed mark. he took hold of the end of his nose and bent it back and forth a couple of times as if he expected it was going to help him talk better. "i," says he, "am jehoshaphat p. skip. the p. stands for petronius." "i know him," says i before i could think. "he's in _the decline and fall of the roman empire_. mark's father knows that by heart." "huh!" mr. long neck sniffed. mark looked at me out of the corner of his eye, and after that i kept still. "p-p-pleased to meet you," says mark. "what can i do for you?" mr. skip straightened up and lengthened his neck till he looked as dignified as a turkey gobbler. "i," says he, "am the sole proprietor of the gigantic five-and-ten-cent stores, a branch of which is now being located in your village." you could see right off that mr. skip wouldn't start to argue with anybody who said he was a great man. mark didn't say anything; he just waited. "i came," says mr. skip, "to talk business--serious business." right off mark looked serious. he did it fine. i don't believe there's an undertaker can look more serious than mark when he's a mind to. "i came," says mr. skip, "to warn you." "oh," says mark, "to warn us? oh." "i," says mr. skip, "propose to sell articles for five and ten cents. in some measure your bazar will conflict with me--you will be almost a competitor." he stopped and bent his nose back and forth again. "yes," says mark, "i calc'late we will--almost." "but," says mr. skip, "it will not be a real competitor." "um," says mark. "why?" "because," says mr. skip, "i'm here to warn you not to encroach on my business." "um," says mark, again. "what was your ideas about en-encroachment?" "simple," says mr. skip. "i sell things for five and ten cents. you mustn't. you can sell for a penny or for fifteen cents or for five dollars--but not for a nickel or a dime. that's _my_ business." mark began tugging at his fat cheek. "i calc'late," says he, as gentle as a lamb, "that there's some such law, eh? you got a law passed sayin' nobody but you could s-s-sell for five and ten cents." "i don't need any law. i say you mustn't. that's enough." "t-to be sure," says mark. "but if anybody was to g-go right along and pay no attention, what then? eh, mr. skip? what if somebody did?" "in that case," says mr. skip, scowling until his two eyes looked like one slit, "in that case i'd bust 'em. bust 'em, is what i'd do. nobody can go against jehoshaphat p. skip and be the better for it." "you're willin'," says mark, "that we should s-s-sell for fifteen cents, and for a quarter, and for a d-d-dollar?" "yes," says mr. skip, beginning to smile like the cat that ate the canary-bird. mark thought a minute; then he says, "we'll m-make a trade with you, mr. skip." "what is it? glad to oblige if possible," says mr. long neck. "we'll swap you the r-right to open a store in wicksville for the right to sell whatever we please," says mark. mr. skip kind of clouded up and i judged he was getting ready to thunder a bit. he did. he roared and grumbled, and made a sight of noise about it, too. "don't make fun of me, young feller. don't make fun of jehoshaphat p. skip. nobody ever did and failed to regret it. i've told you you can't interfere with my trade, and you can't. this is the first and last warnin'. don't dare sell a nickel's worth or a dime's worth or you'll suffer the consequences." mark looked sort of meek. "my f-f-father says competition is the life of trade," he says. "i won't have no competition," says mr. skip. "maybe not," says mark, still as meek as a sheep. then all of a sudden he perked up and looked right into mr. skip's narrow eyes. "maybe not," he says, again, this time some louder, "but i'm calc'latin' you _will_. i'm calc'latin' you hain't ever seen any competition till n-n-now." he swept his hand around the store. "this bazar," says he, "is full of stuff to sell for five and ten cents--and it's goin' to be sold. it's g-g-goin' to be made a _specialty_ of. i was plannin' on bein' fair. i was figgerin' on makin' it as easy for you as i could, but now, mr. skip, you're goin' to find your store's got the liveliest c-c-competition in michigan. we'll s-sell what we like for how much we like.... now, mr. skip, good mornin'. we're pretty b-busy." not another word did he say, but turned his bulging back on mr. long neck and walked to the back of the store. mr. long neck swallowed a couple of times so you could see it all the way from his collar to his ears, and went out muttering to himself. mark grinned at me and winked encouraging. "there," says i, "now see what we're up against." "hain't it b-b-bully? better 'n i hoped," says he. "he'll bust us," says i. "he's more likely to bust his neck," says mark. "what you going to do?" "i'm goin' to give mr. skip the time of his life," says mark. "i'm goin' to give him c-c-competition till he's so sick of it he won't be able to eat it with molasses." "but he's a business man, and he's got lots of money." "hum!" says mark. "his grand openin' 'll draw everybody in wicksville, and maybe they'll never come here any more." "plunk," says mark, "mr. skip 'll think his grand openin' has a smallpox sign stuck up on it." "how?" says i. "folks'll never n-n-notice it's goin' on," says he. i was beginning to feel some better, for it was as plain as the wart on mr. skip's nose that mark had hit on a scheme. "why won't they?" i asked. he asked a question back: "what had wicksville folks rather g-g-g-go to than anythin' else?" "fires and weddin's and auctions," says i. "we won't have a f-fire," says mark, "nor a weddin', but you can kick me seven times, plunk, if we don't have the rippin'est, roarin'est, bang-up-est auction ever held in the county." i sat right down on the floor, kerflop. i might have known it. he'd hit on the very thing, and done it as easy as wiggling your thumb. almost anybody can cook up a scheme, but mark tidd always cooked up _the_ scheme, the one that was copper-bottomed and double-riveted, and guaranteed to do just the business where it was most needed. "where," says i, "will you git an auctioneer?" "m-me," says he, and walked off to go to work just like he'd said he'd play a game of miggles. chapter iii "what'll we auction off?" i asked mark. "that," says he, "is what we've g-got to find out." "let's auction everything," says binney. mark just looked at him. it was enough. you could see how disgusted he was, and i can tell you binney kept pretty quiet after that. "we'll auction old stuff," says mark. "there's l-l-lots of things here nobody could sell any other way. whatever we get out of them 'll be clear gain." so we went to rummaging, and the mess of things we found was enough to make you blink. we took all the rest of the day for that. next morning mark had us clean tables up in front. about eleven o'clock we got that part pretty well done. "now," says mark, "we got to advertise." "how?" says i. "we hain't got money to spend in the paper, and, besides, it don't come out till the auction's over." "l-lots of ways," says mark. "binney, can you get your pa's horse?" "i guess so," says binney. "and the spring wagon?" "sure." "all right, then. now come on." he led us to the storeroom back of the bazar and set us to work making a frame. this didn't take long. the frame was shaped like a tent. when it was done we tacked some white cloth on the sides so it was tight and smooth, and mark got the lampblack and the brush and began to paint signs on it. he could make letters as good as a regular sign-painter, too, and that fast you wouldn't believe it. the same sign was on both sides of the tent. it said: grand auction sale anything you want for what you want to pay for it at smalley's bazar monday, september 30 mark tidd, auctioneer "now," says mark, "f-fetch down your horse and wagon, binney. we'll set this sign on the wagon. you can drive, and tallow 'll sit inside and bang on this drum." "where'll we go?" "out in the c-country this afternoon. to-morrow you'll ride around town." as soon as they had their dinner they started off, and mark and i were left in the store. "f-first thing's to fix the windows," says he. we picked out the showiest things and put them where folks could see them--and there was everything from a patent churn to a toy duck that waggled its head. one window was like that--just everything put in so folks could get an idea what was going to be sold. the other window mark fixed up like a town. he used a lot of toys to do it, but we had a lot to do it with. when we were through it was a regular sight, and i'll bet nobody in wicksville ever saw anything like it before. there were streets and houses and horses and wagons driving along, and a train coming into the depot, and a band playing in the square, and a fire-engine going to a fire that mark fixed in a house with yellow paper for flames. it looked pretty real. there were churches and stores, and folks shopping, and kids playing. it was pretty fine. next mark made some more signs--one great big one to stretch across the front of the store, and others on stiff paper to tack upon fences around town. we were to do that after we closed up at night. all this time we didn't see a thing of jehoshaphat p. skip, but we found out he'd gone to the city about some of his stock that was slow coming. we were just as glad, because he'd be more surprised than anybody when he saw what we were up to. "bet mr. skip 'll most strangle all the way down his neck," i says, "when he sees what's goin' on." mark's little eyes got bright and twinkly, but he didn't say a word. next day was friday, and we spent that arranging stock. mark had tables moved to the middle of the store, and we covered them with all sorts of things. this wasn't for the auction, but for regular business. the first table was a five-cent one, the next was a ten-cent one, and so on. you didn't have to ask the price of a thing. that made it handy for us and for customers. "l-lots of folks'll buy things they hain't got any use for," says mark, "just because they look cheap." "shouldn't think so," says i. "wait," says he. "let 'em rummage around and see things all marked plain. right off they'll b-begin wantin' things. and they'll buy. you see." and i did see, saturday. those signs and windows got folks all riled up with curiosity, and they began droppin' in to see what kind of a mess we were making of it. everybody acted like they thought it was a big joke for mark and us to be keeping store, but we didn't care. mark said that was a good thing, because good-natured folks buy more than folks that don't think they've got something to laugh at. we had more folks in the store that day than we ever had before, i believe, unless maybe nights before christmas. we let them joke us all they wanted and didn't try to sell them things. what we wanted them to do was walk around and sell things to themselves. that was mark's idea. you haven't any idea how people like to poke around by themselves and stick their noses into things. they right down enjoy it. the more they poked the more they bought. it kept mark and me busy, and we wished a lot of times that binney and tallow were there to help us. but we did the best we could, and they were there after supper, of course. we kept open till ten o'clock, and anybody'd have thought we were running a free show to see how the place was jammed. mark got the idea of setting a phonograph going, and we had music all the while. along about nine o'clock we saw mr. long neck come pussy-footing in. he stood in the door a minute and scowled and then walked all around slow, and slinking, to see what we were doing and how we were doing it. mark said to let on we didn't know him, and then went up to him like he thought he was a customer, and says: "anythin' s-s-special you was lookin' for, sir?" mr. skip was like to have swelled up so he cracked his long neck right there, and the way he woggled his nose back and forth was enough to have put it out of joint. "you're a-havin' that auction monday just to interfere with my grand openin'," he says, savage-like. "was you havin' a grand openin', monday?" asks mark, innocent as could be. "you know i be," says mr. skip. "n-now hain't that too bad!" says mark, still looking as serious as a wall-eyed pike. "i hope it won't draw away from your crowd any." "you better mark my word, young feller," says mr. long neck, "and put it off. i won't have no interferin' with my plans." "um!" says mark. "and these here five-and-ten-cent tables," says mr. skip. "you got to do away with 'em." "we're doin' away with 'em now," says mark, with just the beginning of a grin, and he pointed at the tables that were surrounded by folks like flies on a lump of sugar. "don't look like there'd be much l-left, does it?" "you're a young smart alec," says mr. skip, and then he hurried out like he was afraid he'd burn up if he stayed. mark turned and winked at me. everybody was interested in the auction and we were answering questions about it all day. you could see folks picking out things they figured on bidding for and making memorandums of them, and that pleased us a good deal and made me feel a whole heap better about our chances of making a showing against mr. skip. when everybody was gone we counted the money we had taken in, and it was a hundred and sixty-two dollars and ninety-five cents. once i heard pa say a hundred and forty-five was the biggest day he ever had. i tell you we were tickled. and the best of it was everything we sold was at regular prices. yes, sir. we didn't reduce a cent. before we left the store i wrote mother a long letter and told her about it all and bragged considerable, and let on i guessed we were going to get as rich as mark tidd's father had out of the turbine-engine he invented. then we all signed it and sent it off. i was pretty proud, but when you come to think of it, there wasn't anything for _me_ to be very stuck up about. mark was the fellow who had a right to think he was some pumpkins, but he didn't act like he'd done anything out of the ordinary. that was the way with him. if he was to be elected president of the united states to-morrow, it wouldn't even make him blink. he'd just go ahead and _be_ president like he was used to it all his life. sometimes it made me mad to see how cool he took things. but he says you can think a lot better when you're calm-like than you can when you're all het up and flabbergasted. i guess he's right about it, too. chapter iv sunday afternoon mark came and got me to go for a walk. "where to?" i asked him, because i was pretty tired and didn't feel like i needed to do any unnecessary scattering around. "uncle ike bond's," says he. then i knew there was a reason for it, so i didn't make any complaint. uncle ike drives the 'bus in wicksville when he isn't too busy fishing--which is mostly. he's a great friend of ours, and if anybody in the world admires mark tidd more than he does then i want to see that person. uncle ike would get up in the middle of the night to stand on his head in the middle of the road if mark was to ask him. so we went to his house, which is close to the river and just outside of town. uncle ike was sitting on the front stoop, whittling out one of the things he's always working on--this time it was a double chain with ten links and a sort of a bird-cage with a ball in it at the end. "howdy, uncle ike!" says mark. "um?" says uncle ike, not speaking to us at all, "if 'tain't that mark tidd ag'in. um! alfiredest smartest kid in town is what i say, and i been drivin' 'bus here long enough to know." "g-goin' to be busy to-morrow, uncle ike?" asked mark. "middlin' busy, middlin' busy." "we're goin' to have an aw-aw-auction," says mark. "um!" says uncle ike. "auction, eh? um! calc'late i may find a minnit or two somehow. auction. um! where?" "haven't you seen our signs?" "to be sure. to be sure." we knew he was just pretending, and that he knew all about the auction all the time. "was them your signs?" "yes," says mark. then he wrinkled up around his eyes like he does when he's going to think of something especially smart. "what's the m-main difficulty with auctions, uncle ike?" "auctioneer's wind gives out," says the old fellow. "n-no," says mark. "nobody to buy," guesses uncle ike. "n-no. it's gittin' f-folks to bid as much as you want 'em to." "'course," uncle ike said. "never'd 'a' thought of that. never! beats all how this mark tidd thinks of things. quicker 'n greased lightenin' he is. twicet as quick." "if there was s-somebody in the crowd," says mark, "that folks didn't suspicion b'longed to the auction, it might help some." "f'rinstance?" says uncle ike, making one word of it. "if," says mark, "the real bid wasn't h-high enough, then the auctioneer could m-make some kind of a sign, and the feller in the crowd could give her a boost." "um!" says uncle ike. "s'pose the bid was a d-d-dime," says mark, "and the thing you was sellin' was worth more. what happens? why, the auctioneer he wiggles his thumb like this--and the feller in the crowd bids fif-fifteen cents. see?" "calc'late to," says uncle ike. "comin' to the auction?" says mark, grinning like everything. "calc'late to," says uncle ike, grinning back. "got t-time to stay around?" "put in the whole day," says uncle ike. "wigglin' the thumb means raise it a nickel," says mark. "wigglin' both thumbs means raise it a d-dime." "listen to that, now," says uncle ike to himself. "easy, hain't it? jest as easy as swallerin' slippery ellum. but it took _him_ to think of it." then he looked at mark and says, "your uncle ike'll be there, you can bet you; and will he bid? jest you lissen to him holler." "you m-might sort of act mean, too," says mark. "that'll make the other folks that's biddin' get _mad_. if they get good and mad they'll bid high just out of spunk." uncle ike slapped his knee and laughed all over, though you couldn't hear a noise. that's the way he always laughed. to see him you'd think he was hollerin' loud enough to bust a gallus, but there isn't a particle of sound. "g'-by, uncle ike," says mark. "g'-by, boys," says he, and mark and i came away. monday morning bright and early all four of us boys were at the bazar, getting things ready. the first thing we did was to fix up a place for mark to do his auctioning from. that was easy. we put two big packing-boxes side by side against the front of the store, and on one of them we put a smaller box to use for a table. we covered these all over with flags and bunting and signs. this was done before another store on the street opened up. even jehoshaphat p. skip wasn't stirring around yet. the whole front of his place was covered with big signs and flags. between us we made wicksville look like it was the fourth of july. pretty soon we saw skip come down from the hotel. he walked past our place with his nose in the air and never looked. my! but he was mad! he went into his store and opened up. for his grand opening he had four clerks he'd brought from some of his other stores, because he figured he'd have a whale of a crowd. his store did look nice and attractive. i went snooping past, and in that little time i could see a bunch of things i'd like to buy--but i'd have gone without them till a week from next year before i'd have bought from him. our auction was set for ten o'clock. you see, mark tidd knew the wicksville folks. everybody had something to do early in the morning, and nobody would have time to go down-town before ten. but jehoshaphat p. he didn't know. he started right off to boom things--hired a fiddle and a horn and an accordion to sit inside his place and play tunes. but there wasn't anybody to play to, and wouldn't be for a couple of hours. "tallow and binney'll stay inside," says mark, "to l-look after folks that want to buy things--" "but," says binney, "we want to be out at the auction." mark he looked at them for half a minute without saying a word. "this here," says he, "hain't a movin'-p-p-picture show or a picnic. it's business." they didn't have another word to say, because they knew mark would have discharged them in a second if he had thought it was necessary. "there'll be folks nosin' around," says mark, "and they g-got to be looked after. plunk'll help me." we had piled a lot of things up in front that we figured would tempt folks, and everything was ready for the auction. we didn't open the store door till it was time, but at half past nine mark sent binney and me out with big bells. "walk up and d-down the street and ring 'em," says he, "and carry these signs." each of the signs had printed on it: "all ready for the auction. she's going to start." binney went one way and i went the other, which was right past jehoshaphat p. skip's new store. there were a couple of folks in there and the music was a-going it as tight as it could, but mr. skip didn't seem like he was happy. i stuck my head inside his door and hollered, "auction's goin' to begin," and then ducked. he started after me, poking his long neck ahead of him like a giraffe, but i knew he wouldn't chase me, so i walked off--when i'd got outside--as calm as a parade of odd fellows. just before ten o'clock i hustled back. mark had put the phonograph outside and it was doing the best it knew how. quite a crowd was beginning to gather around. i looked at mark to see if he was scared. scared! he looked tickled to death. "come on," says he. we opened the front doors and out we went. the folks let out a laugh; a couple of fellows cheered. some kids that were hanging around began to holler at us, and it made me mad, but mark let on he didn't hear. he climbed up on his platform and looked at the folks without saying a word. a kid on the other side of the street yelled, "look at what's tryin' to be a auctioneer," and folks laughed some more. i saw mark sort of squint up his eyes and pinch his cheek. "aw," yelled the same kid, "better git started 'fore the box busts in." if there's one thing mark _hates_ it's having anybody joke him about being fat. he squinted his eyes so you could hardly see them and waddled up to the edge of his platform. "l-ladies and gentlemen," he stuttered, "the auction is about to commence, but before the first article can be sold i got to have a boy to help me." he looked all around, and then pretended he just saw the kid that had been yelling at him. "sam jenks," says he, "will you come here and help me just a m-minute?" sam puffed up important-like and pushed his way across the road and scrambled up by mark, and mark took hold of his arm. when you look at mark he don't seem to be anything but fat, but he's strong. he's got a grip in his fingers like you wouldn't believe. "l-ladies and gentlemen," says he, again, "i have the p-pleasure of presentin' to your notice a ree-markable spectacle. this is it," says he, pointing to sam. "it l-looks like a boy. it's got arms and legs and a head. but it hain't really a boy, ladies and gentlemen. it's nothin' but a noise. in the mornin' this n-noise gits up and starts to goin'; it goes all day; and it don't stop at night, 'cause it snores." everybody hollered and laughed fit to kill, and sam tried to pull himself away, but mark hung on to him. "it's a novelty, ladies and gentlemen. nobody in wicksville ever owned such a thing--so i'm a-goin' to auction it off." "lemme go," says sam, wiggling like a basketful of eels. "the defect in this article," says mark, "is that it's jest noise. we can't guarantee that b-brains goes with it. if you buy, it's at your own risk." well, sir, you should have heard those folks laugh, and you should have seen sam's face. you could have auctioned him pretty cheap if you sold him for as much as he felt like. "what am i offered?" says mark. folks started to bid. one man offered a dead dog, and another bid a plugged cent, and another the squeak of a pig and another the hole in a fried cake. all the time sam was straining and tugging, but mark didn't let go. then a man back in the crowd yelled, "i bet sam hoskins's yaller dawg." "sold," says mark, and he let loose of sam. you never saw a kid disappear as quick as that kid did. he just _vanished_. you can bet no more kids interfered with mark's auction _that_ day. as soon as folks had quit laughing mark started in to sell things in earnest. first thing was a wash-bowl and pitcher, and to hear mark talk about it you would have thought the king of england was all broken up because he was so far off he couldn't be there to bid on it. mrs. sanders bid a dime. mark just looked at her and pretended he couldn't hear. he put his hand up to his ear and asked her to repeat it. she got sort of red in the face and bid a quarter. "a q-quarter--a quarter i'm bid for a bowl and pitcher the queen of sheeby'd be tickled to death to wash her f-face in." mark was sort of excited and the way he stuttered was a caution. "what lady or gentleman desirin' an heirloom to hand down to their g-g-great-g-g-grandchildren raises that bid?" it was worth a dime to hear him splutter "great-grandchildren." "thirty cents," says somebody. "huh!" snorted mark. "it cost more'n that to paint the pictures on it." he wiggled two thumbs at uncle ike bond, who opened up his mouth and roared "forty cents," and then looked as proud of himself as if he'd sung a solo in church. mrs. sanders shot a mad look at uncle ike and bid forty-five. mark wiggled one thumb and uncle ike bid fifty. mrs. sanders turned around and scowled at him. i could hear her whisper to mrs. newman, "that ol' scalawag sha'n't have it." mark heard her, too, and he gave me just the beginning of a wink. "sixty cents," snapped mrs. sanders. marked wiggled a thumb. "sixty-five," says uncle ike. "seventy-five," says mrs. sanders, setting her mouth in a straight line and shaking her head. "eighty," yelled uncle ike. mrs. sanders straightened up and glared at him--glared! i wouldn't 'a' had her look at me like that for a quarter. her eyes 'most bored holes in him, but uncle ike only grinned aggravating, like mark told him to. "a dollar," says mrs. sanders, and then put her fists on her hips and tossed her head. "dollar ten," says uncle ike. "dollar 'n' a quatter," snaps mrs. sanders. "dollar thutty." "dollar fifty," says mrs. sanders, "and if you're fool enough to bid more you kin have it." mark pretended to try to get more bids, but there weren't any, so he stuttered, "g-goin', goin', g-gone to mis' sanders for a dollar 'n' a half." i wrapped up the sale and handed it to her and she gave me the money. i was trying hard to keep my face straight--for that pitcher and wash-bowl had been standing in our window for two months with ninety-eight cents marked on it as plain as the nose on jehoshaphat p. skip's face. the next thing was a new-fangled carpet-sweeper that father had bought a year ago and never got anybody interested in. mark he explained it careful, and threw a handful of papers and things on the floor and swept them up to show how well it worked. then he looked the crowd over slow and calculating. over at one side stood old man meggs, who was an old batch and kept house by himself. "l-labor-savin'," says mark. "just the thing for a single man. no broom. gits all the dirt. almost works by itself. make me an offer, mr. meggs." mr. meggs scratched his nose and hunched his shoulders and pulled down his hat and cleared his throat. "calc'late she's wuth a quatter," says he. "it's worth more to miss mullins than that," says mark, looking over at her where she stood. miss mullins wasn't married, either, and she wore clothes like a man and talked about running for town clerk. she and meggs didn't like each other, for some reason, and wouldn't even speak on the street. "you ain't g-goin' to let him have this splendid carpet-sweeper for a quarter, are you?" she tossed her head. "fifty cents," says she, just to show meggs there was some real bidding going on. meggs says something under his breath that wasn't what you could call a compliment, and boosted it to seventy-five. "no man that's too lazy to support a wife can outbid _me_," says miss mullins. "a dollar." "dollar ten," says meggs, scowling like everything. miss mullins edged over toward him where she could look right into his face, and says, "dollar 'n' quatter." "i'm goin' to have that sweeper," says meggs to uncle ike, "if i have to sell my hoss.... dollar 'n' half." well, sir, those two folks, just because they didn't like each other kept on a-bidding and a-bidding till they got up to five dollars, which was twice what the sweeper was worth. and then meggs quit. he let on he didn't want it, anyhow, and said he never did have any use for them patent contraptions. "he never had no use for anythin' he had to spend money for," says miss mullins, passing up a five-dollar bill. the auction went along like that for an hour, everybody having the finest kind of a time. it was better than a circus. mark knew just how to get them, too. he played folks against each other and used grudges he knew about until the prices he got were a caution. it looked like we were going to get rich right there. i looked down the street to the new five-and-ten-cent store--and it was as deserted as the desert of sahara. but coming up the street i saw jehoshaphat p. skip, waving his arms and twisting his nose and talking loud and fast to town-marshal sprout. they came right up and pushed their way through the crowd. the marshal walked up to mark's platform. "mark," says he, "lemme see your permit to have this here auction in the street." mark looked sort of funny. "p-permit?" says he. "yes," says the marshal, "you have to have one when you use the public street." "um," says mark, "guess i sort of overlooked that." "then," says the marshal, "you'll have to quit. sorry. i wouldn't 'a' said a word if somebody hadn't complained, but this here feller complained, so i got to perform my duty." "sure," says mark. "d-don't blame you a mite." he turned to the crowd and says, "owin' to the law bein' called down on me, this auction is called off. folks that want to buy--and buy cheap--will step inside." it made everybody kind of mad, because wicksville loves to be at an auction, and people scowled at skip, but he didn't care. he just went hurrying back to his store and got his music to playing loud, and then stood in front with one of those megaphone things and yelled: "grand openin' now in progress. greatest bargains ever offered in wicksville. step right this way." well, maybe folks were mad at mr. skip, but they were down-town to have some fun and see something and buy something, so they started stringing down his way, and pretty soon the whole crowd was jamming into his store. we were all alone. i looked at mark and was feeling pretty glum. i expected he would look glum, too, but he didn't. his jaw was sticking out like i'd never seen it stick out before. "we're licked," says i. "i knew we couldn't go against a grown-up business man." "licked?" says mark. "huh!" "we might as well close up," says i. "there's only one th-thing we might as well close," says he, "and that's croakin'. we thought we had jehoshaphat p. skip licked this m-mornin', but did he quit? huh? he didn't quit, but he played low-down mean. we won't quit, and we won't play low-down mean--but mr. jehoshaphat p. skip'll wish he had _two_ noses to wiggle 'fore this l-little fuss is over. come on," says he, "and look a little happier. we hain't licked," he says, "till the sheriff takes the store away from us." "but what'll we do?" "how do i know?" says he. "we'll do somethin'. i'm goin' back to set d-down and think." chapter v for the next three days things were pretty slack with us. what business there was seemed to be going to jehoshaphat p. skip, though of course there was just a little trickle of folks into our store. mark tidd didn't pay much attention--just sat around and squinted and pinched his fat cheeks and _thought_. we couldn't get anything out of him and there wasn't any use trying. when he had a scheme all cooked up he'd come and tell us--and we had to be satisfied with that. once he looked up when i went past and says, half to me and half to himself, "what i want is somethin' that'll shoot two barrels at once. h-hit jehoshaphat p. with one and fetch down the wicksville f-f-folks with the other." "sure," says i, "but any old kind of a scheme that will do any old thing to bring a little business is what we need. we haven't sold enough stuff in three days to pay wages to an invalid cat." "huh!" says he; "i can bring business in. anybody could. but so l-long as skip stays here it'll mean one scheme after another--and that's hard work." "i'd rather go huntin'," says i, "and shoot the first rabbit i see--and _git_ it--than to sit around waiting for two to stand in a row so's i could shoot 'em both to once. 'cause they might never git in a row." "all right," says mark, with a sigh, "if you're so all-fired impatient. we'll s-start somethin' to-morrow." he stopped and wagged his head. "nope, not to-morrow. 's friday. 'tain't s-safe to start things friday." "saturday's a better day, anyhow. farmers'll be comin' in." "saturday it is," says mark. "we'll b-begin gittin' ready." "for what?" says i. "for the votin' contest," says mark. "plunk, we're a-goin' to do a lot of good in wicksville." his little eyes were twinkling and glowing, but his face was as solemn as a ball of putty. "we're a-goin'," says he, "to settle a question that's been b-b-botherin' some folks i could name for years." "well," says i, "what is it?" "who is the h-h-h-han'somest man in wicksville?" says he. "what?" says i, and i could feel my nose wrinkle, i was that disgusted. "votin' contest," says mark. "but this one'll be different. folks have voted for the most popular girl, and the m-most beautiful girl, and sich like. but nobody, so far's i ever heard, has t-t-tried to pick the han'somest man." "why should they?" i wanted to know. "besides," says i, "there wouldn't be no votes cast in a election to pick wicksville's handsomest man. there hain't no sich thing." it made me mad to have mark fooling with me like that when things was so serious. "jest look at the men that live here," says i. "there hain't enough handsomeness in wicksville to keep a self-respectin' scarecrow from dyin' of disgust." "it hain't the han'someness that _is_," says mark, "it's the han'someness that homely folks thinks there is." "huh!" says i. "plunk," says mark, patient-like, "have i got to draw a picture of this thing?" "i guess you have," says i. "well," says he, "there's half a dozen old coots here that set consid'able store by their looks. there's chet weevil, eh? how about him?" "runs to yaller neckties," says i. "always s-s-stoppin' to look in the glass, hain't he?" i was beginning to get a glimmer of light, so i just nodded and didn't say anything. "and there's chancy miller--always w-w-wearin' a flower in his buttonhole, hain't he?" "yes," says i. "and you was here yestiddy when mis' bloom was bragging to mis' peterson about what a upstandin', fine-lookin' feller her husband was. eh?" "yes," says i. "well," says he, again, "wimmin kin s-s-see beauty in a feller that a hoss would shy at. there's this, too: even if a woman d-d-don't think her husband's han'some, she hain't g-goin' to let on, is she? not much, she hain't. thing to do, plunk, is to git the wimmin mad about it. git them wimmin mad and the m-m-men jealous of one another, and there'll be votin', plunk." "there'll be fist-fights," says i. "hope so," says mark; "it'll advertise." "how we goin' to work it?" "one v-v-vote with every ten-cent purchase," says he. "any voter can enter a candidate. we'll paste a l-list of candidates in the window and every afternoon at two o'clock we'll put up the vote.... the p-p-prize to the han'somest m-man," says he, with the first grin he'd let loose, "will be that mirror back there with an imitation silver cupid on top of it." "some folks'll make a joke of it." "sure," says mark. "some smart alecs 'll be votin' for ol' stan brazer, like's not. that'll only make them that takes it serious madder 'n git-out. every v-v-vote's a dime sale, plunk." "all right," says i, "go ahead. but this'll stand wicksville on its head." mark only grinned and wagged his head. then he went back and printed a big sign: watch this window for our announcement saturday every man, woman, and child in wicksville vitally interested a question that has been argued for years will be settled when that was done mark stood tugging at his cheek for a minute. "b-better send tallow and binney out with the wagon again," says he. so he went to work making more signs for the wagon. one of them says: wicksville's burning question smalley's bazar will settle it particulars saturday the other says: mister, is your wife proud of you? you will soon be able to tell smalley's bazar--saturday we called in tallow and binney and explained things to them. they were more tickled with the scheme than i was, though that last sign of mark's did make it look more likely. by printing that thing and sending it around town he'd practically fixed it so every woman would _have_ to do some voting for her husband or let him think she didn't set much store by him. it beat all how mark seemed to understand folks. he could sit and figure and come pretty close to guessing what anybody would do if this thing or that thing should happen. sometimes it seemed almost like mind-reading. "now," says he, "we'll get tickets printed for votin'." "how many?" i says. "a hundred?" "hundred," he snorted; "we'll start with f-five thousand." he was a little mad i could see--he always stuttered worse when he was mad. i thought he was crazy, but there wasn't any use arguing. when once mark tidd gets his head set you can't move it with a crowbar. so i said all right, and he went over to the printing-office and gave his order. just before noon who should we see coming into the store but jehoshaphat p. skip. it made me mad to see him and i'd have gone right up and told him to use the door for going out and never to use it for coming in again, but mark saw what i was up to, i guess, and grabbed me by the arm. "b-better let me talk to jehoshaphat," says he, and off he went before i could say a word. "g-good mornin', mr. skip," says he, as sweet as molasses. "how's business with you?" "huh!" grunted jehoshaphat p., and he set to twisting the little bulb on the side of his long nose. "hope things are openin' up w-well for you," says mark. "you do, eh? you do, do you?" snapped mr. skip, and you could see the red start 'way down by his adam's apple and begin to crawl up his neck. it took quite a while to get to his face. somehow he made you think of a giraffe that was provoked. "i hain't come here for no talk," says he. "i've come for business. once and for all, will you stop sellin' five-and-ten-cent goods?" "once and f-f-for all," says mark, "we won't." then mr. skip he grinned sort of mean. "ever hear of a chattel mortgage?" he says. "seems like i'd heard 'em mentioned," says mark. "know how they work?" "can't say i d-do." "they're sim'lar to a mortgage on land," says skip, "only they hain't on land, but on chattels--which is things sich as furniture and animals--and bazars." "oh," says mark, "bazars, eh?" "yes," says skip. "you give a chattel mortgage when you got to have money, and you put up your furniture or your animals--or your bazar--to secure the loan. that means if the loan hain't paid the man with the chattel mortgage can take your furniture or your animals or your--bazar--instead of his money." "um," says mark; "looks like a d-d-dangerous kind of a deal, don't it?" "i'm a-goin' to show you how dangerous it is," says skip, squinting at mark out of his mean, narrow little eyes. "i've got one of them on this bazar." i almost flopped over on the floor, but mark didn't turn a hair. he was as startled as i was, _i'll_ bet, but he didn't let on but what he was more pleased about it than anything else. "oh," says he, "you got one of 'em, eh? how'd you come to git it?" "bought it," says skip. "did you know this bazar was pretty near busted?" "we calc'lated she'd hang together a s-s-spell longer," says mark. "it's been runnin' down for years," says skip. "it would of busted more'n four months ago if this here mr. smalley that owns it hadn't of borrowed money to pay his debts. he up and borrowed five hundred dollars and give his note and a chattel mortgage on this bazar. that's what he done. and i was lookin' around yestiddy and found out about it. that's me, jehoshaphat p. skip. i look around--and i find out. folks don't want to git me down on 'em or they're sorry for it." "to be sure," says mark. "this here mortgage and note is due six weeks from to-day," says skip. "six weeks," says mark, slow-like. "guess there won't be any trouble about that, mister." jehoshaphat p. choked and gurgled and blinked his eyes. "there won't, eh? think you can pay off five hundred dollars in six weeks, do you?" he grinned again as mean as a cornered alley cat. "don't matter what you _think_," says he, "it can't be done. six weeks from to-day _i'm_ goin' to be the owner of this bazar." "if i was you," says mark, "i w-wouldn't go spendin' any m-m-money you're goin' to make runnin' this store--yet. mister," says he, "there's fair business and there's rotten business. there's things it's right to do to a competitor, and things a skunk would b-be ashamed of. mister, a skunk that was well brought up, and had a f-f-family to think about, wouldn't stay in the same town with _you_." he stopped for breath and to give his jaw a rest, for the way he'd been stuttering was enough to knock chips off his teeth. "that's what we th-th-think of _you_, mister. now about that chattel mortgage--it'll be paid, on the m-m-minute. we've got six weeks. when the six weeks are up you've got something to say--but if you come into this place again before that note's due--if you even stick your long nose inside the door--we'll throw you out and r-r-roll you in the mud for the whole town to see.... now, mister, git." i'd seen mark pretty worked up before, but i don't recollect ever watching him when his lips got white the way they were then. his lips were white and his cheeks were gray, and his little eyes sort of glowed like there was a slow fire in them that was apt to break into a blaze. jehoshaphat p. skip looked at mark and sort of caught his breath and began to look uneasy. "git!" says mark, again, before skip could open his mouth. jehoshaphat didn't offer to say another word--he just turned around quick and slunk out of the store. mark stood right in his tracks for more than a minute, looking after skip. then he sighed 'way down deep and blinked and turned around to me. "fellers like that," says he, "ought to be shut up in the pen with the p-p-pigs. they hain't got any right minglin' with human beings." i was about ready to cry. there was my father in the hospital, and my mother with him. every single thing in the world they had to support them was this bazar. if it went i couldn't see what would happen--and it looked to me like it was gone. mark saw how i felt, i guess, for he came over and put his big hand on my shoulder, gentle-like. you wouldn't believe how gentle and sort of comforting it was! "plunk," says he, "it's a hard b-b-bump, all right. but don't get downhearted. we'll pay that note, plunk, and that hain't all. before we're through with jehoshaphat p. we'll tie him into a d-double bow-knot with a pin in the middle of it.... keep your b-backbone stiff, plunk. we'll pull her through." "mark," says i, and i wasn't much used to saying things like that, "you're--you're all _right_." and deep down inside i felt he _was_ all right--and maybe he was a bigger sort of fellow than even we three boys had thought he was. my worry wasn't all gone, but i did feel better and a little hopeful. but five hundred dollars--and in six weeks! for the life of me i couldn't see where it was to come from--and father's expenses and mother's living, too! chapter vi my father always went to lawyer sturgis when he needed any law, so we figured he'd be likely to know about that chattel mortgage. mark went over to see him and found out that every word jehoshaphat p. had said was true. father had needed money and borrowed five hundred dollars from hamilcar wilkins, who didn't do anything but lend money. somehow skip had found out about it and had bought the note. so there we were. "well," says mark when he got back, "th-that's settled. now all we got to do is dig up that five hundred." "yes," says i, sarcastic-like, "that's all." "we'll do it," says he. "i've noticed," says he, "that if you've got to do a thing or b-b-bust you usually do it--or bust." he grinned all over his fat face. "now let's forget about the mortgage and start to makin' money." "suits me," says i. by this time we had our stock pretty well arranged. you wouldn't have known the old store. everything was in order and arranged so it could be found. the most expensive things were at the front, the five-and-ten-cent things were at the back. that was mark's idea. "folks is after bargains," says he, "and they'll walk to get 'em. when they come in they'll be after somethin' cheap. but we'll m-make 'em walk past the other things. they can't h-help lookin' at 'em, and chances are they'll see somethin' they need." it was so, too. i can name three or four folks who came in to buy something for a dime, but did buy something for a half a dollar or a dollar just because they saw them on the way back. things we calculated folks would want we had set up conspicuous, with the price marked on them plain--and it was generally a price that ended in odd cents. mark says folks are used to paying even money, and if you make it ninety-eight cents or sixty-three cents, why, right off they think it's a bargain. but don't get to thinking business was good. it wasn't. it wasn't any better friday, though quite a few folks came in to ask what we were up to next. this tickled mark because he said it meant folks were watching us and thinking about us and wondering what sort of scheme we were going to work off on them. that, says he, is good advertising. wicksville is full of folks with curiosity. i'll bet i was asked questions about our signs a dozen times, but wouldn't tell. mark said to keep them guessing till we were ready, which was saturday about ten o'clock. then mark put up in the window a big sign explaining about the beauty contest. lots of folks stopped to look at it, and grinned and laughed, just like i thought they would. once there was quite a little crowd looking in. along came chet weevil. uncle ike bond was there, and as soon as he saw chet he commenced to yell at him. "ho, chet!" says he, "here's somethin' 'll int'rest you. han'somest-man contest! you and them neckties of yourn 'll be enterin', eh? got to settle whether you or chancy miller is the beautifulest. seems like i can't sleep till i git the judgment of folks on that." chet was all primped up with a checked suit and yellow shoes and a necktie that looked like it would burn your finger if you touched it. he didn't grin--not chet. he sort of drew himself up and looked at his reflection in the window and felt of his tie to see if it was on straight. "hum!" says he. "i don't lay no claim to beauty." then he sort of put his head on one side and looked at himself again. "course not," says uncle ike. "you're one of the modestest fellers in town, but, chet--it's a secret and don't whisper it to a soul--folks have said to me as how they ree-garded you as a feller of strikin' appearance. honest, chet." "hum!" says chet again. "i aim to keep myself lookin' as good as i kin. it's a feller's duty." "to be sure. that's the way chancy looks at it. i heard him sayin' no later than yestiddy that he took consid'able pains with himself. he says you was perty good-lookin', too. yes, sir. says he, if it wasn't for him, you'd be about the best-lookin' feller in the county." "did, eh?" says chet, mad-like. "did, eh? mind, i hain't claimin' to be handsomer 'n anybody else, but this i do say, and this i'll stand by: if i wasn't better-lookin' than chancy miller i'd buy me a mask or raise whiskers, that's what i'd do. why," says he, "chancy's pants bags at the knee." "so they do," says uncle ike. "but chancy alluded to your hair. says your hair was all right as _hair_, but, says he, as a ornament it would be better if chet was bald-headed." "hair!" says chet. "does that there gangle-legged, pig-eyed, strawberry-topped imitation of a punkin' lantern go around makin' personal remarks about me? maybe my hair hain't curly, but, b' jing, it looks like hair, and not like no throwed-away bed-springs." well, just then who should come in sight but chancy miller, his hat on the back of his head so his frizzes would show, and a posy in his buttonhole. uncle ike spied him. "just alludin' to you, chancy," he says. "we was discussin' them ringlets of yourn. chet here declares as how they favor worn-out bed-springs consid'able." chancy scowled at chet and took off his hat like he thought it was hot. that was a way of his. he was always looking for excuses to put his hair on exhibition. "chet hadn't better do no talkin' about hair," says he. "if he was to get his shaved off and then tie a handkerchief over his head so what was left wouldn't show, he'd look a sight more like a human bein'." "well," says uncle ike, "i see there's a sight of rivalry amongst you two on this here beauty question. but it's goin' to be decided, chancy; it's goin' to be decided. read this sign, chancy, and be happy." chancy he read the sign and then took off his hat again and smoothed back his hair. he looked at chet sort of speculating and chet looked at him. then both of them stuck up their noses simultaneous. "who's been spoke of so far?" chancy asked. "nobody but you and chet," says uncle ike. "i thought," says chancy, "it was goin' to be a _contest_. not," says he, "that i got any idee i'm what you'd call handsome"--he stopped to take a squint at himself in the window--"but--but compared to chet," says he, "i'm one of these here greek statues alongside of a packin'-box." "you be, eh?" yelled chet. "you think you be? well, chancy miller, all i got to say is this: if my mother'd 'a' had any idee i was goin' to look like you she wouldn't of tried to raise me. she'd drownded me when i was a day old. why," says chet, getting madder and madder, "the only resemblance between you and a good-lookin' feller is that you got two arms and legs. it 'u'd take six college professors with microscopes a year to pick out a point to you that don't class as homely. handsome! oh, my!" at that chancy started to move toward chet and chet started to move toward chancy, but they didn't go far. they weren't the sort of fellows to get themselves mussed up in a fight. nobody offered to stop them, so they stopped themselves, about six feet apart, and took it out in scowling. "we'll let the votes of the people decide," says chet, as grand as an emperor. "huh!" says chancy. "you'll have to git a stiddy job now and spend your wages in the bazar, or you won't git a vote." just then along came mrs. bloom and mrs. peterson, and they stopped to see what was going on. first they read the sign and then they listened. uncle ike grinned to himself and says: "we men has figgered the contest is narrowed down to chet and chancy. 'tain't likely anybody will enter agin 'em, is it, mis' bloom?" mrs. bloom sniffed. "i thought this was goin' to be a contest for the handsomest _man_," says she. "if 'tis, neither of them whipper-snappers is eligible. let 'em wait till they git their growth. for a handsome man gimme somebody that's old enough to wash his own face without his mother's helpin' him. the best-lookin' time in a man's life is when he's about forty-three." "forty-seven, to be exact," says mrs. peterson, her eyes snapping. "forty-three," says mrs. bloom. "forty-three is peter bloom's age, and i ought to know. when i was young i could 'a' had the pick of the young fellers in this town, but i took peter, and hain't never regretted it. i guess you folks hain't seen peter in his new sunday suit, or you wouldn't be talkin' about these--these gangleshanks." mrs. peterson blinked and swallowed hard and opened her mouth a couple of times before she could speak. "if you was to stand peter bloom alongside of jason peterson," says she, in a voice that sounded like somebody tearing a piece of tin, "i guess you'd change your mind. maybe peter was fair-lookin' once," says she, "but jason's been eatin' _good_ cookin' for twenty-two year--and that tells." uncle ike winked to himself and says, sober-like, "it looks, fellers, as if chet and chancy wasn't goin' to have the field to themselves." "no, they hain't," says mrs. bloom, "and i'm goin' right in now to spend a dollar--a dollar--and vote ten votes for peter. there." she jerked her head and turned on her heel and marched into the store. "gimme that pair of scissors i was lookin' at the other day," says she, "and a paper of pins, and six spools of forty white thread, and if that don't make up a dollar just say so." "it c-c-comes to a dollar and six cents," says mark. "then gimme somethin' for four cents to make up the other ten," says she. "and gimme them votes so's i can cast 'em for peter bloom." mrs. peterson came in right after, and _she_ spent a dollar and thirty cents, casting _her_ votes for jason peterson. mark looked at me and his eyes twinkled. "what d'you think of the s-s-scheme now?" he asked in a whisper. "it begins to look," says i, "like there might be somethin' to it." it began to look like it still more as the day went on. chet weevil met me as i was coming back from dinner. "plunk," says he, "kin you keep a secret?" "like throwin' it down a well," says i. "what d'you think of chancy's chances?" says he. "well," says i, hardly able to keep my face straight, "i hain't much of a judge, but that curly hair of his--" "huh!" he growled. "hair hain't goin' to count. got any bang-up neckties? the kind folks can't help seein'?" "we got some," says i, "that you could flag a train with on a dark night." "how much?" says he. "forty-nine cents apiece." he reached down into his pocket and pulled out two dollar bills. "this here," says he, "is secret between you and me. i want four of them ties--and you needn't mind the change. vote them twenty votes for me like somebody else did it--and if chancy goes votin' for himself, just you lemme know, and i'll beat him or--or bust a gallus." from that on i was more cheerful. things began getting exciting and, somehow, i almost forgot about jehoshaphat p. skip and his chattel mortgage. chapter vii when i got back to the bazar from dinner that saturday noon mark had a big sign in one window that said the list of candidates with their votes would be put up at two o'clock. in the other window was just a line across the top that said: candidates and their votes there wasn't anything under--it was just waiting there, staring folks in the face. along about a quarter past one in came a delegation of ladies from the methodist church, nominating their parson, rev. hamilton hannis. they were buzzing away, and all excited as a meeting of crows in a maple-tree. somehow the congregationalists had got hold of the news and in came six of them before the methodists had cleared out. they nominated rev. orson whipit, _their_ minister. we got a matter of six dollars and seventy cents out of the two parties. "binney," says mark, "hain't your f-f-folks baptists?" "yes," says binney. "skin home, then," says mark, "and tell your ma." off went binney with the news, and in twenty minutes in came seven baptist ladies with their pocketbooks and determined expressions, ready to stand up for _their_ parson, rev. jenkins mccormick. they invested three dollars and forty cents. that made ten dollars and ten cents we got out of those three denominations. there were three others to hear from--the united brethren, the universalists, and the catholics, but they didn't get wind of what was going on till later in the day. we got the whole six of them in the end, but the main contest turned out to be between the first three. six other women came in to put up their husbands' names, and four school-teachers got there separately and privately to nominate mr. pilkins, the principal. "if they v-v-vote as hard as they nominate," stuttered mark, "we'll have to order more goods." we put up the list at two o'clock. just before it went up chancy miller came sneaking in the back door with two dollars and twenty cents, and nominated himself. he bought a pair of military brushes and a bottle of perfume. he let on he was going to buy some kid gloves as soon as he saved up another dollar. "i calc'late," says he, "that folks'll sort of flock in to vote for me as soon's they see my name." "well," says mark, "they'll f-f-flock in, all right, chancy, but i calc'late you got to depend on the unmarried vote. it beats all what a p-p-pile of han'some husbands and ministers there is here." "ministers!" chancy was like to choke. "is _ministers_ comin' in? now i don't call that fair. why," says he, "them prince albert coats of theirn give 'em a head start right off. besides," says he, "ministers have more time to slick up." "sure," says mark, "but not a one of 'em has c-c-curly hair." "i'd buy me one of them coats," says chancy, "but i hain't got the money. besides," says he, "what money i git has got to go for votes." mark was quick as a flash. "we can order a suit to your m-m-measure," says he, "from a chicago catalogue. that'll give you a sight of votes and us a little profit." but chancy didn't have the money and we didn't give any credit, so that deal was off. there was quite a few folks waiting in front to see the list go up, so we went and got it ready. there were a lot of names on it, but the three ministers were ahead, with chancy and chet next and the school principal next, and then mr. peterson and mr. bloom and the handsome husbands in a string, pretty much together. all told there were two hundred and twenty-six votes cast. that made our morning's business twenty-two dollars and sixty cents. that was pretty good for the first half-day. first off most of the men in town looked at it as a joke and put in considerable time laughing. that was mostly early in the day, though. by the middle of the afternoon their women folks had done more or less talking, and the men got around gradual to seeing it wasn't so awful funny, after all. the women never saw anything funny about it at all. it was pretty serious to them, i can tell you, especially to them that had husbands a person could look at without smoked glasses on. probably not a woman in wicksville ever thought whether her man was handsomer than somebody else until mark schemed up this contest. but, as mark says, as soon as somebody else lets on he's handsomer or bigger or smarter than you are, you get mad and say he isn't. it don't matter, says mark, whether you ever thought you were handsome or big or smart before. you begin to think so then. even if you don't really think so you let on you do and are willing to back it up. everybody got it--even old peasley snell. his name wasn't on the list, and if you was to ask me, it wasn't likely to be, for old peasley was about the weazenedest, orneriest, dried-up, scraggly-haired critter in wicksville. but peasley he stopped and read the list. his wife was with him. peasley read from top to bottom. then he began talking to his wife: "pete bloom!" says he, and sniffed. "huh! handsome! huh!... jason peterson. whee! and them others! who d'you calc'late nominated 'em, susie?" "i dun'no'," says susie. "it was their wives," i says from the door. "wives," grunted old peasley. "wives, is it? huh! why, young feller? why?" "i guess they nominated 'em," says i, "because they wanted to let on they thought their husbands was as good as anybody else's husbands." old peasley stopped and thought and blinked and chewed on his tongue. every once in a while he'd look at his wife and scowl. pretty soon he raised his bony finger and tapped her on the shoulder: "susie," says he, "my name hain't on that list." "no," says she. "why?" says he. "i dun'no'," says she. "peterson's there," says he, "and bloom." "yes," says she. "their wives done it." mrs. snell nodded her head. "mis' snell," says old peasley, "don't you calc'late i got any pride? don't you calc'late i got any feelin's? say! do i want folks rushin' around sayin' peasley snell's wife says her husband is homely as a squashed tomato? eh? well? maybe," says he, "i hain't what you'd call _handsome_, but b'jing! i don't have to wear no veil--not when pete bloom and jase peterson's around, anyhow. what'll folks think? eh?" "i dun'no', peasley," says his wife. "i know," says he. "they'll say peasley snell's wife don't love, honor, and obey him, that's what they'll say. they'll say peasley snell hain't of no account in his own family. they'll say his wife'd rather have any other man in town than him.... and, mis' snell, i hain't a-goin' to endure it. mark me! your duty is plain before your eyes. you git into that bazar, mis' snell, and you git my name on that list. and you see to it that your husband has as many votes after his name as bloom or peterson. that's what. now mis' snell, march." she marched, and old peasley's name went on the list with one vote more than bloom. that's the way it went. fellers that were nominated started worrying about how many votes they were going to get, and fellers that weren't nominated got mad about it. also there were others besides chet and chancy that nominated themselves. till 'most midnight customers kept us so busy we couldn't hardly breathe. at last we shut the doors and counted up to see what we'd done. a hundred and thirty-two dollars and fifty-seven cents for one day! that wasn't the best of it, either, for we'd got rid of a lot of old stuff that had been cluttering up the store for years. in a little more we'd be down to real stock. "calc'late," says mark, "we better be castin' our eyes around for somethin' new and special to sell. we want our stock to be b-b-better than jehoshaphat p. skip's." "sure," says i. "we got to stock up on first-class s-s-staples," says mark, "and git, besides, some specialties that'll stir folks up a leetle." we were pretty tired and sleepy, so we didn't talk about it any more that night. next morning all of us went to church, but after dinner we went to mark's house, and his mother made molasses taffy--and kept scolding about it all the time and saying we'd ruin the furniture and mess up our clothes. that was the way with mrs. tidd. she was always stirring around, busy as could be, and mostly she was sort of scolding at mark or mr. tidd--but she didn't mean a bit of it. i never knew anybody so free with pies and fried cakes and things as she was. along about the middle of the afternoon we heard a jangling and rattling, and above it all somebody whistling like all-git-out. well, sir, we jumped for the window, because we knew _that_ racket. there, just turning into the yard, was a red peddler's wagon. to-day, it being sunday, the pots and pans and brooms and whips and things that usually were stuck all over it were out of sight inside, but they jangled just the same. on the seat was a man whistling "marching through georgia" with runs and trills and funny quirks to it. his nose was pointed straight up and his eyes were shut. his horse was finding its way without any help from him. if you didn't look at anything but the man's face you'd have said he was about six feet and a half high, but when you looked at the rest of him you saw right off that things had got mixed--he had the wrong body. he was less than five feet tall, and he was more than three feet wide--or he looked so, anyhow. all of a sudden his horse stopped. the little man raised his big head with a snap and jerked it first in one direction and then in another. then he took hold of the end of his nose and gave it a tweak as if it had managed to get out of shape. then slow as molasses he began to get down. at that we boys rushed out of the house, and mr. tidd and his wife followed a little slower. the little man saw us, put his hand on his stomach and made a low bow; then he put a thumb in the armhole of his vest and straightened up as dignified as a senator. "you are not mistaken, my friends. your eyes do not deceive you. it is zadok biggs. none other. i am entranced--delighted is the more ordinary expression--to see you. i am more than delighted to see that prodigious--remarkable is the commoner word--youth, marcus aurelius fortunatus tidd. there's a name! the parents who gave that name to their son are remarkable parents! parents, i salute you.... and there, too, are my three young friends, plunk and binney and tallow." he waved his hand at us as though we were a block away. he didn't give anybody a chance to say a word, but led us into the house and invited us to sit down. "ah, this is magnificent, this is glorious. how zadok biggs has looked forward to it! madam, aside from a seat on the supreme bench at washington, i most aspire to this one. tell me all about yourselves; you, marcus aurelius fortunatus tidd, tell me all about yourself. have you been finding opportunities? ah, there's a word! opportunities are everywhere. there's plunk, now, missing an opportunity. there's a chair, a comfortable chair, yet he remains erect--standing is the more usual expression. seize your opportunity, plunk, and be seated. now marcus, i listen. my ears yearn for the news you have to tell." maybe you never met zadok biggs before, but we had, i can tell you. we got acquainted with him when mr. tidd come close to losing the turbine-engine he had invented and which made him rich, and zadok did a lot to help us get it back. i really don't believe we ever would have got it back if it hadn't been for him. so we were pretty good friends, and every time he was near wicksville with his tin-peddler's wagon he'd stop overnight with mark, and we'd all spend the evening together. "relate--tell is the less dignified term--the news, marcus," he directed a second time. mark started in and told him all about everything: how father was hurt and had to go to the hospital, and how we four boys were running the store, and about jehoshaphat p. skip, and about the chattel mortgage, and about the handsomest-man contest. when mark was done zadok got up and rushed over to me and patted me on the shoulder. there were tears in his eyes. "plunk," says he, "my heart bleeds for your father and mother. i could weep for them in their trouble. i will visit your father in the hospital--be sure of that, zadok biggs will visit him and cheer him. ha! that is something. also i shall tell him about his son. a father loves to hear good of his son. it will help him on the road to recovery. i am proud of you, plunk. i am proud of all of you. you are--indeed, i may say it with honest pride--you are a credit to me." then he hurried back and sat down. "i'm afraid," i says, after a while, "that we've bit off more'n we can chew comfortable--countin' in that chattel mortgage." "it is an obstacle. oh, there is no doubt of that! alone you might fail, but is not marcus tidd with you? ha! that counts for much. and zadok biggs! what of him? he is heart and soul with you. from this minute jehoshaphat p. skip is his enemy. zadok will help you. zadok will advise you. best of all, zadok will look about him for opportunities." looking for opportunities was zadok's specialty. "we will show this jehoshaphat p. skip--a detestable name; i abhor such a name--we will show him!" he turned to mark. "you are in business," says he. "business is the game that keeps the world going. business is checkers; business is football; business is brains. would you hear my business rules? they will aid you--help is the more common word. i will write them in a row so you can see them and remember them." he pulled a piece of paper and a pencil out of his pocket and wrote: zadok biggs's business rules first--find out what people want. second--give it to 'em. third--buy it cheap. fourth--only a fair profit. fifth--never spend a cent that won't bring back a cent. sixth--every man is a customer--treat him so. seventh and last--never sell a thing you wouldn't be glad to buy yourself at the price. he stood up, bowed like he was going to speak a piece, and read it off to us. folks may think zadok is a little peculiar, but i want to tell you that every inch of room in his big head is stuffed full of brains. a half-witted cat could see the sense in those business rules of his. chapter viii it seems the ministers didn't hear how they were nominated in the beauty contest till sunday afternoon--at any rate, none of them said anything about it. but sunday afternoon they met and palavered and made up their minds it wasn't dignified and that sort of thing for preachers to get mixed up in such an affair. so that night they got up in their pulpits and said so. i was a baptist and heard rev. jenkins mccormick state his views. i gathered he didn't withdraw because he thought ministers wasn't handsomer than other men, or because he didn't view himself as being as handsome as any other minister, but because, to his way of thinking, beauty and baptists hadn't ought to run together. rev. whipit, of the congregationalists, and rev. hannis, of the methodists, got off their views on the subject. the result was that there were a few hundred votes that would have to be changed. and there was where the trouble started. the first thing monday morning about a dozen women came down to the bazar to ask what they should do about it. "well," says mark tidd, "th-there's the votes. so long as the parsons won't have 'em, somebody else'll have to. you can vote 'em for anybody you w-w-want to." then there was a _racket_. the methodists got off in a group and the congregationalists huddled together and the baptists sheered off where they could talk it over. and they talked! my goodness! you could have heard the clatter on the other side of the river. every married woman insisted on having the votes of her church cast for her husband, and the four old maids that were scattered through the three denominations were all for mr. pilkins, the school principal--him being an old bachelor. at last the noise got so bad and the women got so mad mark made up his mind he'd have to do something about it--and he wanted to do something that would help out the bazar while he was at it. he got up on the counter, and that was quite a job, considering how much of him there was to get up. "l-ladies," he yelled, "the m-meetin' is called to order." well, sir, they stopped off short to see what was going on, just like hens in the yard will stop fussing if you step out with a pan of feed in your hand. "i got a p-plan to propose," says mark. "let's have it," says mrs. goodwillie. "d-draw lots for 'em," says mark. "i'll fix three boxes, one for each denomination, and put into 'em a slip of p-paper for each lady. then you draw. one slip will say 'votes' on it--and that one wins in each box. the votes belong to the three ladies d-drawin' the winnin' slips, and they can do as they please with 'em." "never," says mrs. goodwillie. "that's gamblin'!" "beg pardon, ma'am," says mark, "b-but 'tain't. characters in the bible drew lots. b-besides," says he, "there was lot's wife. how came she by her n-name, d'you s'pose, if d-drawin' lots wasn't customary? eh?" for a minute the ladies quarreled about it, but it _did_ look like the most sensible way to go at it, and they agreed. we fixed up the boxes, and the drawing started. every woman grabbed her slip and ran off with it like a hen that finds a worm. then miss snoover yelled, "i got it!" she was a methodist. but right on top of her yell came another "i got it!" and this one belonged to mrs. peterkin--and she was a methodist, too. somehow two winning slips had got into the methodist box! the baptist box came out all right with mrs. jenks a winner; but there wasn't any winning slip at all in the congregational box! it was a pretty situation, but mark didn't appear flustered a bit--he just looked solemn and interested, and when nobody was looking he winked at me sly. for some reason or other he'd gone and fixed those boxes like that on purpose! well, _mister_! maybe there wasn't a squabble! miss snoover and mrs. peterkin gripped their slips and glared at each other and screeched that the votes were theirs and they'd drawn fair and square and nobody'd ever get them away. all the other methodist ladies joined in because they saw a chance for another drawing, when maybe _they'd_ win. the women that won wouldn't consent to another drawing, and the ones that lost insisted there should be one--and there we were. in the mean time the congregationalists had drawn all over and mrs. johnson won. that disposed of them. i just kept my mouth shut and waited to see what mark would do. he didn't do anything but look sort of satisfied with the world--why, i couldn't see. i wished i was a mile away, because you couldn't tell how mad these women were going to get, nor what they'd do when they got there. "why not d-divide 'em equal between the winners?" mark says. "never," yelled mrs. goodwillie. "we'll draw all over again!" "them votes is mine," says miss snoover, "and i'm a-goin' to keep 'em." "what for?" asked mrs. peterkin, mean-like. "what you calc'latin' to do with 'em? eh?" miss snoover sort of choked and spluttered and got red in the face, and says it wasn't anybody's business what she was goin' to do with 'em, even if it was to paper the inside of her hen-house--and maybe she was an old maid, but it wasn't anybody's business, and she didn't need to be if she didn't want to, and a lot better to be one than married like some she knew--and she'd carry the matter into court and hire a lawyer to defend her rights, and everybody was trying to rob a lone woman. that was all she mentioned before she drew a breath, but i thought that was pretty good. most folks would have had to breathe a lot sooner. the minute she was through she turned and ran out of the store, still grabbing her slip of paper. the rest of them stayed awhile and argued, but pretty soon they went, too, because they couldn't do anything without miss snoover. "well," says i when they were gone, "that's a pretty mess to clean up." "um!" says mark, and he smacked his lips like he'd had something good to eat. "what ever," says i, "did you put two slips in that methodist box for?" "to start a s-s-squabble," says he. "well," says i, "you done it, all right." "plunk," says he, "excitement is the makin' of a beauty contest. the more folks gets m-mad the more votes is cast. the more squabbles there is the more money we make--and the more advertisin' we get. don't you calc'late this thing'll be talked of more'n a simple drawin' with no row at all would have b-been?" "i do," says i, and let it go at that. there didn't seem to be anything to say. binney jenks, who had been down to the express-office, came in just then. "enemy's takin' flight," says he. "what enemy?" says i, "and where is he takin' flight to?" "jehoshaphat p.," says binney, "and he's goin' to detroit. took the ten-fifty train." "f-flight," says mark, with a sort of grunt. "more likely some kind of attack. um!... wisht i knew what he was up to." "if it's anything to hurt us we'll find out quick enough," says i. "the way," says mark, "to win b-battles is to find out the enemy's plan and beat him to it." "you might telegraph jehoshaphat p.," says i, sarcastic-like, "and ask him what his idea is." "who's in charge of his store?" mark asked. "that clerk he brought with him. don't know what his name is." "does he know you?" mark asked me. "don't think i ever saw him but once," i says. "well," says mark, "it's about time you bought somethin' at the t-t-ten-cent store. take a quarter, plunk, and spend it judicious. take consid'able time to it, plunk, and get friendly with the clerk. if you get curious you might ask a question or so. good way would be to make b'lieve you thought the clerk was the boss. see? then you could ask about the boss. maybe this clerk is one of these t-t-talkative, loose-jawed fellers. worth tryin', anyhow. might drag a crumb of information out of him." "and git hanged for a spy," says i; but for all that i was glad to go. to tell the truth i was sort of tickled that mark wanted me to go instead of going himself. it showed he had some confidence in me and thought i was sharp enough to do what he wanted. i took a quarter and went across to the five-and-ten-cent store. the clerk was lazying around without much to do but look at himself in a little hand-glass. he had one of those little pocket-combs and he was busy with it, fixing his hair just _so_. it was kind of straw-colored hair with a wiggle to it. he had a kind of strawberry complexion and blue eyes and chubby cheeks. sort of cunning, he was. i says to myself he ought to be entered in our beauty contest. i went along the counter, looking at things, but he didn't pay much attention. he got through with his hair and then began bringing up his mustache. it was a cute mustache. yellow like his hair, it was, but you couldn't see it from some directions. when the light was right on it, though, you got a good view. i kept getting closer and closer. when i was almost in front of him i dropped my quarter and had to go chasing after it. that attracted his attention away from his mustache. "what'll you have?" says he, crosslike. "oh," says i, "dun'no'. i got a quarter to spend and i'm lookin'." "all right," says he, "look." "you got a fine store, mister," says i. "yes," says he. "do you own all of it?" i says, "or have you got a partner?" he felt around till he got hold of his mustache and pulled at it careful so as not to pull any out. he couldn't have spared much. "well," says he, "to tell the truth i hain't the proprietor. i'm just sort of manager. more money in _that_ than ownin' the store--and no risk." "oh," says i. "who does own it, then?" "feller by the name of skip." "hain't he ever here?" "sure. just went to town, though. important business." hum! thought i, this is one of those talking jackasses. he's all excited about what a man he is and he'll just naturally lay himself out to make an impression. "it's a big responsibility to be left in charge, hain't it?" i says. "oh, skip gives me all sorts of responsibility," says he. "he knows _me_." "i'll bet he don't," says i to myself, "or he wouldn't have you around." but i only grinned at him admiringly. "say," i told him, "them clothes of yourn wasn't just _bought_, was they? they look different. bet a real tailor made 'em." "course," says he. "_i_ couldn't wear store clothes. man in my position has to look _swell_." "you do it, all right," says i. then i got an idea. "are you figgerin' on winnin' the contest?" "what contest?" "handsomest man in wicksville," says i. "everybody's votin'." "oh, that," says he. "no. i dassent be in that? boss wouldn't like it." "shucks!" says i. "you ought to enter. you'd win easy." he took another look at himself in the glass and didn't seem disappointed by what he saw. "well," says he, "i might have a _chance_." "chance!" i says. "why, there wouldn't be anybody else in it!" "i don't know many folks here," he says. "bet lots of folks wished they did know you. all you'd have to do would be enter the contest, and the way they'd vote for you would be a caution." "boss wouldn't like it," says he. "if somebody put up your name without your knowin' it he couldn't object." i could see him sort of thinking that idea over. it was one that attracted him like a bald head attracts flies. "i sure would like to git my name in," says he, "but the boss hain't got any use for that bazar. he's mad at the folks that run it and he says he's goin' to put it out of business. he's a bad one, jehoshaphat p. skip is, and when he gits after anybody they want to look out." "pretty smart man, hain't he?" "you bet he is--smarter 'n a weasel." "don't b'lieve he could put the bazar out of business, though," i says, shaking my head. "you don't know skip," says he. "why, kid, what d'you s'pose he's up to now? eh?" "hain't the slightest idea," says i, as if i didn't care much. "he's got 'em pretty near busted now. bought a chattel mortgage they'll never be able to pay off. he's goin' to see to it they _don't_ pay it off. that's one reason he's in detroit. yes, sir. take the wind plumb out of their sails, i tell you." "huh!" says i. "easier said than done." "he's goin' to the wholesale houses," says the clerk in a whisper. "what of it?" "the bazar owes money," says he. "he's goin' to tell the wholesale houses they better look out or the bazar'll bust. see? then the wholesale houses'll demand their money. besides that, the bazar won't be able to buy no more stock. skip'll fix their credit, and no store can git along without credit. see?" did i see? i should say i did see! this was almost worse than the chattel mortgage. "another thing," says he, "the bazar's got the local agency for wainright's sheet music. must be a pretty good thing. skip's going to get that away from 'em. hurt some, i calc'late. and he's goin' to take away their agency for phonographs and records. bet that'll hit 'em a wallop. eh? skip says he'll take away every one of their agencies." "but," says i, "this is a five-and-ten-cent store. how can he sell things that come to more?" "oh," says the clerk, "he's goin' to open a separate department and sell every single thing the bazar does--and cut prices. guess this beauty contest won't get much for the bazar folks against lower prices." that was the way i looked at it, and my heart went 'way down into my boots, but i wouldn't let him see it. "about that contest," says he, "i'd like to get my name in. but i wouldn't like skip to know i went in myself. he'd have to think somebody else did it without me knowing." "sure," says i. he looked all around to make sure nobody was looking, and then handed me half a dollar. "here," says he in a whisper. "buy me a necktie with this, and have my name entered. will you? eh?" "course," says i; "glad to do it for you." i hurried right out of the store and across the street, not waiting to spend my quarter at all. i had to see mark tidd, and see him _quick_. something had to be done. something had to be done in a minute. if we lost these agencies and had our credit cut off we might as well close our doors. here was mark's chance to show if he was as great a man as folks thought he was. chapter ix "mark!" i yelled as soon as i got to the front door. "hey, mark! quick!" "t-take it easy," says he. "where's the fire?" "fire!" says i. "you'll wish it _was_ a fire." "um!" says he. "out with the sad news, plunk. let's weep t-t-together." i told him as fast as i could. his little eyes began to glow and you could see his chin setting under the fat. he was mad, mad clear through the whole of him. "that j-j-jehoshaphat p. skip," says he, "is about as low down as they make 'em. he's a human skunk." then he shut up like a steel trap. "well?" says i. "stay here," says he. "i'm goin' out--and i'll be b-b-back when i git here." my! how he stuttered! "where you goin'?" says i. "telegraph-office first," says he. "don't know where then." at that he waddled out of the door as fast as he could go. he had some scheme, and he was after jehoshaphat. somehow i felt as if i'd rather be somebody else than mr. skip, too. when mark has that look on his face you want to look out for him. he went to the telegraph-office and sent half a dozen telegrams to the folks we did business with in detroit. they were all the same: look out for a man named skip. make no deal till i come. mark tidd. after that he rented a horse and buggy and drove off somewhere into the country. i didn't know where, and nobody else did. he was gone till almost five o'clock. then he came dashing in, looking pretty pleased about something, and says: "got to g-go to detroit on the five-thirty. comin'?" "yes," says i. "when'll we be back?" "t-to-morrow," says he. he left tallow and binney in charge of the bazar, and we hurried off to get our nightgowns and tooth-brushes. the train was five minutes late as usual, or we never would have caught it. it was 'most midnight when we got into detroit, so we went to a hotel right across the road from the depot and went to bed. mark told the man at the desk to call us at six o'clock. i went to sleep right off because i was tired, and i guess mark did, too. sleeping was one of the things he was good at. he could sleep and eat more than any fellow i ever knew--and stay awake more when it was necessary. we were waked up by the telephone-bell and got dressed and went down to breakfast. "now what?" says i. "wholesale houses first," says he. neither of us knew anything about the city, so we had to ask our way, but we didn't get lost. it was quite a walk to the first place we wanted--spillane & company--and when we got there it wasn't open yet. we sat down in the doorway to wait. after a while an old gentleman came along in an electric automobile and got out and came up to the door. we moved over to let him through. "early birds, aren't you?" says he, sort of squinting at us under his gray eyebrows. "yes," says mark, "but the w-w-worm hasn't come yet." "who's the worm?" says he. "spillane & company," says mark. the old gentleman kept on squinting at us under those eyebrows without ever the sign of a smile. "what do you want of spillane & company?" says he. "want to talk business to 'em," says mark. "haven't any jobs for boys," says he, and stuck the key in the lock. "i've got all the j-j-job right now i need," says mark, with a twinkle in his eye. "what do you want, then?" "i want to talk to the man that runs this business," says mark. "the boss of the whole th-thing." "what about?" "are you him?" mark asked. "what if i'm not?" says the man. "then," says mark, his mouth setting stubborn-like, "i'll wait till he comes." "huh!" says the old gentleman, and it was hard to tell if it was a growl or a chuckle. "my name's spillane, and i'm president of this concern. what is it, now? don't keep me standing here all day." "i want to t-talk to you about jehoshaphat p. skip." "what's your name?" "mark tidd." the old gentleman grunted again and scowled--actually scowled. i edged off because it looked to me like he was going to do something unpleasant. "so you're mark tidd, are you? you're the one that sends mysterious telegrams? what do you mean by it? eh? what do you mean by sending telegrams nobody can make head or tail to?" "i meant business when i sent it, and i m-mean business _now_," says mark. "come in," says mr. spillane. we followed him into the office and he jerked his head toward a couple of chairs. "always get down first," says he. "open the door myself. get in half an hour's thinking before the help comes." mark and i nodded polite. "well," says mr. spillane, "what about jehoshaphat p. skip?" "jehoshaphat p. skip," says mark, "was here to see you yesterday. i d-don't know what he told you--maybe it was true and maybe it was lies. we've come to tell our side of it." "and who are you?" "we're smalley's bazar," says mark. "where's mr. smalley?" "in the hospital. we're runnin' the business." "four kids," says mr. spillane. "he told you, didn't he? yes, sir, four kids--but we play fair. we don't go s-s-sneakin' off to spoil a competitor's credit, and we don't lie and we don't cheat." "smalley's bazar is on the verge of bankruptcy," says mr. spillane. "i am writing you a letter to-day refusing further credit and demanding a settlement of the account now standing." mark thought a minute. "the more retail businesses there are," says he, "the more goods wholesale houses sell. every t-time a little store is killed off it costs the wholesaler money, doesn't it?" "yes." "then it's to your advantage to keep the l-little stores going." "yes." "it's to your advantage to keep smalley's bazar going." "that's another matter. you owe us money you can't pay. it would be poor business to let you owe us more." "it would be if we couldn't pay," says mark, "but if we get a square deal we can p-pay--every cent. yes, sir, and make money besides." "smalley's bazar never did amount to much." "it's going to.... just lemme t-t-tell you about this skip and what we're d-doin' and what we're goin' to do." "i don't think it will make any difference. our credit man has looked you up and he advises against further dealings." well, mark set in and began to talk. he told about how we boys started into the bazar and about how skip came to town and about the auction skip broke up and about the threats he made and the chattel mortgage and about his trip to town. he told about his plans and how they were going to work, and then he ended up: "skip may have money now--but he ain't honest. nobody's honest that'll do what he's d-done. we haven't his money--but--but you can ask anybody in wicksville about us--anybody. if we're let alone we'll pull through. if creditors come down on us we'll b-bust--and there won't be much for the creditors. here's your chance, mr. spillane, to give us a chance to make good or to play into the hands of a feller like skip. the d-difference between us and skip is, we'll pay if we can and he'll cheat you if he can. now, sir, is it skip or us?" "who thought up that auction scheme?" "i did," says mark. "who thought up the beauty contest?" "i did," says mark. "who thought up these other things you've told me?" "i did," says mark. "young fellow," says mr. spillane, "how'd you like to work for me?" "f-f-fine," says mark, "but i've got something else to do now." "i'll give you more than you can make out of the bazar." "i'm making nothing out of it," says mark. "i d-d-don't get paid." "what?" says mr. spillane. "none of us does," says mark. "ummmm!" says mr. spillane. we waited and didn't say a word. the old gentleman didn't say a word, either, for quite a while; then he grunted ferocious-like again, and says: "where else are you going?" we told him the names of the other firms, and then he turned around to his desk and began working at some papers just as if we weren't there. i thought it was a funny sort of thing to do, and it made me mad. he had a right to refuse to do what we wanted, but he didn't have any right to treat us like that. i started to get up, but mark looked at me and winked and shook his head. so i sat back. it was twenty minutes before mr. spillane paid any more attention to us. by that time other men had come in and there was a pile of mail on his desk. he looked that over and then turned around. "come on," he said, reaching for his hat. we followed him without any idea where he was going. he made us get into his electric and drove us across town. there he stopped at a big building and we got out. it was the wolverine novelties company, another of our wholesalers. he went right in and pushed past a clerk that wanted to know what he wanted, and into a private office where a fat man was sitting at a desk. "hello, jake!" says mr. spillane. "hello, pat!" says the other man. "here's a couple of kids, jake. from wicksville. fat one's the author of the telegram you got yesterday about skip. runs smalley's bazar." "goin' to shut 'em up, pat?" "i was--but i've arranged differently." mr. spillane turned and scowled at us. "this kid"--he stuck his thumb at mark--"has argued me out of it. i'm going to give 'em a new line of credit." "not feeling sick, are you? better get more fresh air, pat." "and," says mr. spillane, just as if he hadn't been interrupted, "you're going to extend their credit, too." he jerked his head at mark. "tell him about it, tidd." mark sailed in and told it all over again, while the fat man began to grin and grin. when mark was done the fat man says: "looking for a job, tidd?" "n-no, sir," says mark. "not till i get this bazar off my hands." "well, when you _do_ want a job come around to see me." "he's mine," says spillane. "keep off." "tell you what i'll do," says the fat man. "you write me a letter so i get it every saturday, telling me everything that goes on and what schemes you work, and--you can have any reasonable credit you want. you won't be pushed, either." marked thanked him and then spillane hauled us off in a hurry. mark tried to thank _him_ when we were outside, but he only growled at us, so it wasn't possible. from the wolverine novelties company he took us to every other wholesaler we did business with, and to the sheet-music people, where he fixed it so skip couldn't take away our agency. he fixed _everybody_. then he went back to the office and dictated letters to the phonograph company and other folks whose goods we were handling--folks in new york and chicago and cincinnati, and they were real bang-up letters, too. when he got through there wasn't a thing for us to worry about on the score of credit. then he took us to dinner at a big hotel and drove us to the train. we got back to wicksville toward evening, tired, but pretty average well satisfied with things in general, i can tell you. the bazar was closed, of course, so we went right home. "wish i could see jehoshaphat p. skip's face when he hears about it," says i. "he's goin' to hear about somethin' he'll like worse," says mark, in the way he talks when he's done something big but isn't ready to tell about it. "what's up?" says i. "you'll find out pretty soon," says he. "it'll m-make mr. skip swaller his false teeth." chapter x old mose miller came slouching into the bazar just before noon next day. old mose lived up the river in a little shanty, but he had a big farm and fine barns and a herd of holstein cattle that would make your eyes bung out. he lived all alone. seemed like he didn't like folks. mostly he wouldn't speak to anybody, and the man who went through his gate without good and sufficient business was taking a chance. i suppose every boy in wicksville had been chased by old mose--and quite a lot of the men. well, old mose came in and began snarling around and making faces like everything he saw hit him on the wrong side of his temper. he was the homeliest old coot you ever saw. downright homely, he was! he didn't have a hair on his head, and his eyebrows and eyelashes were gone. if that was all he wouldn't have had much chance to be thought good-looking, but it wasn't all. his nose was broken and came zigzagging down the middle of his face like a rail fence, and he had only about every second tooth in front. that's all that ailed his head if you forgot about his ears--and they were so big they flapped when he walked. the rest of him was just as bad, but i expect his feet were his strongest point. they were flat--flat as pancakes. and big! well, say, folks was used to saying that in winter he didn't need to use snow-shoes. if the rest of him had grown up to match his feet he'd have been eleven feet tall. mark stepped up to wait on him. "w-what can i do for you, mr. miller?" he asked, as polite as could be. "you kin talk like a human bein'," says old mose, "and not like a buggy joltin' over a corduroy road." i ducked down back of the counter so mark couldn't see me laugh, for he does hate to have anybody make fun of his stuttering. i listened sharp, expecting him to give old mose as good as he sent, but not a word did he say. in business hours he tended to business, and so long as a customer didn't go too far mark would be patient as a lamb. so he just waited. "folks," says old mose, "is a pesky nuisance." "yes, sir," says mark. "shet up," says mose. "what d'you know about it?" i could see mark's eyes begin to twinkle and knew he was enjoying himself. pretty soon old mose snapped at him again. "i won't have no folks in the house with me. not me. can't make 'em shet up when you want 'em to. talk, talk, talk, that's the way with folks. never run down." "yes, sir," says mark. "_yes, sir! yes, sir!_ can't you say nothin' but 'yes, sir'?" "yes, sir," says mark, as innocent to look at as a head of cabbage. old mose reached for his ears and took one in each hand. then he stamped on the floor, and while he stamped he pulled. that's how his ears got so big, likely. mad! my! he was mad. he jabbered and growled and called mark an "idjit," and allowed that of all idjits he was the worst, and how came anybody to take the trouble to raise him? he went on quite a spell before he quieted down. then he started off on folks in general again. "i don't like folks," he says in his cracked voice. "i don't like to have 'em around. but i git tired of the sound of my own voice. mighty tired. lots of times i don't talk to myself for a whole day, b'jing! there's times when i want somebody to talk to me. but you can't trust folks. they wouldn't shut up. not them. can't turn 'em off. that's why i come here." he glared at mark as though he was to blame for the whole thing. "heard one of them talkin'-machines, that's what! human voice comin' out of it. talk! sing! whistle! likewise playin' of bands and sich-like. better'n a human. better comp'ny. kin turn the screw and shut 'em off.... got one of them talkin'-machines to sell?" "yes, sir," says mark, and old mose scowled at him like he was ready to take a chunk out of his leg. "we g-got three kinds. forty dollars, seventy dollars, and hundred and ten dollars." "more'n they're wuth! more'n they're wuth. it's a cheat, i say. forty dollars! whoosh!" "let me p-play them for you," says mark. he started the seventy-dollar one off with a woman singing, and then played a band piece, and another with a fellow telling jokes, and some more and some more. right in the middle of a piece old mose yelled: "shut 'er off! lemme see you shut 'er off." mark snapped it off short, and old mose looked almost pleased--and i guess he came as close to it as he could. "always shet up like that?" he asked. "yes, sir," says mark. "how much do them wax plates come at?" "different p-prices," says mark. "here's the list." "don't want to see it. don't want to see it." he pulled a wallet out of his pocket and laid down a hundred-dollar bill. "here," says he, "gimme that machine and enough of them wax things to make up a hundred dollars' worth. hear me? want to keep me waitin' all day?" "all ready for you in a s-second, sir," says mark, and quicker than i can tell you about it he had picked out the records and was packing them careful so they wouldn't break. "this'll give you a th-thousand votes," he says to old mose. "votes? what votes? what do i want of votes?" "handsomest-man contest," says mark. "folks in wicksville is votin' to see who he is." old mose glared. "young feller," says he, "if you're a-makin' fun of me i'm a-goin' to lay you acrost my knee and give you what your pa's neglected to." "it's not a j-joke, sir. everybody's votin'. 'most every man in t-town's entered." old mose chuckled. "kin i vote 'em for anybody i want to?" "yes, sir." he chuckled again, sort of mean-like. "gimme them votes. i calc'late i'll take 'em home and think it over. 'tain't no easy job to pick the handsomest man in this town. wicksville's that full of handsome men they're stumblin' over each other in the street. handsome! if there's a feller in this town that kin look at his own reflection without feelin' timid of it then _i_ hain't seen him. gimme them votes, i say. what's ailin' you?" mark counted out the votes and then we helped old mose load his phonograph into his wagon. he climbed on to the seat and went off without even looking at us again. crusty old codger, _i_ say. "plunk," says mark, "d-don't hesitate about spreadin' the news." "what news?" "why, that old mose has g-got a thousand votes--and that he hain't made up his mind who to cast 'em for." "what good 'll that do?" "remember the time old mose sicked his d-dog on us?" "you bet i do." "here's our chance to g-git even. mose don't like folks. as soon as this news gits out he'll see plenty of 'em--mostly wimmin. everybody that's g-got a man entered in this contest'll be after old mose. there'll be a procession out to his house. he'll have more folks campin' on his trail than he thought was in the county." it was plain enough. i could just see mrs. peterson and mrs. bloom and the presbyterian ladies and the baptist ladies trotting out to old mose's and honeying around him and making his life miserable. it would be as good as a show. they'd catch him in the morning and they'd catch him in the afternoon, and it would be as much as his life was worth to show his face in town. i just threw back my head and laughed like i haven't felt like laughing since father was hurt. mark didn't laugh, but his eyes twinkled. when i sobered down he says: "we don't want to l-let this beauty contest take all our time. we got to think up other schemes." "sure," says i. "i been th-thinkin'," says he, "that we ought to find out somethin' everybody'll be wantin' about now--and git some we can sell cheap." "good idee," says i. "what'll it be?" "i dun'no'--yet," says he. we stood and thought and thought. finally i remembered right off i knew something every woman in wicksville would be buying about then. "cannin' season," says i. "course," says he. "mason jars. wonder what they cost?" "i'll run over to the grocery and see," i says, and off i went. the clerk said they were selling for fifty-five cents a dozen without the rubbers. "hum," says mark. "that's about a n-nickel apiece. if we could sell 'em three for a dime and make any profit at all we'd do consid'able b-business." "where d'you buy 'em?" i wanted to know. "spillane & company handle 'em," says he. "i'll write 'em a letter.... no, i'll telegraph 'em. save time." he went back to the desk to write a message, but he stopped and thought. "price 'd d-depend on how many we was goin' to use," says he. "wonder how many we'd sell?" "no way of tellin'," says i. "there m-must be," says he in that arguing way of his. "we got to find out.... say, you fellers go home and ask your mothers and my mother how many they're goin' to buy this fall." we went off obedient as little sheep. mark's mother was going to need two dozen new ones, binney's mother figured on three dozen, and tallow's mother allowed as how she needed about two dozen and a half. mark blinked and pinched his cheek and whistled a little. "there's about two hundred h-houses in wicksville. the population of the township's about four thousand, so that means about two hundred more farm-houses. that's figgerin' five folks to the house for town and country. looks like the average number of cans was about two d-dozen and a half. but that's high. lots of folks don't set as good a table as your f-folks. but 'most everybody in wicksville cans some. let's guess low. say a dozen cans to every house. how about that?" "too high," says i. "maybe so," says he; "b-better be safe and figger 'way low. say eight cans to a house. how many's that?" "thirty-two hundred cans," says i. "course we couldn't sell _all_ of 'em--even if the p-price was low. but we could sell most--if we let folks know about it. ought to sell two thousand of those cans." "ought to," says i, "but it'd be better to turn some f-folks away than to have a couple of hundred cans left on hand." "um!... well, say ten g-gross. that's fourteen hundred and forty. how about that?" "sounds safe to me," i says, and tallow and binney agreed. "then we'll wire for a price on that m-many," says mark, and he turns and makes out the message. wire best price ten gross quart mason jars for sale. smalley's bazar. we sent off the message, but the answer didn't come till next morning. it said: can quote special price three ninety-five per gross delivered. spillane & company. we sat down to figure. that would make the cans cost two and three-quarter cents apiece. we could sell them three for ten cents and make a profit of a cent and three-quarters. that would give us a total profit of eight dollars and forty cents. that wasn't much, but it was a brand-new profit in addition to everything else. we thought it was worth trying, so we wired spillane & company to send on the goods. they wired back that the goods would be shipped immediately and would get to wicksville the next afternoon. "now for the advertising," says mark. he brought the horse and wagon and tallow and binney into commission again. this time the signs were about the mason jars and the great sale we were going to have on friday--three cans for ten cents. they drove all over town and out through the country, banging on a drum. i guess folks were getting used to this way of telling them things, for when they heard the drum whanging women would come running to the door to see what new thing we were up to. mark put a big sign up in the window, too, and as the paper came out thursday he put an advertisement in that told all about it. that was about all we could do. now the wicksville folks would have to do the rest. i can tell you we were all anxious. that deal meant an investment of thirty-nine dollars and fifty cents. not very much, maybe you will say. but it was a lot to us, fixed the way we were. if we should be stuck for nearly forty dollars just at that time we would be in a hard way, and don't ever forget it. we _had_ to sell those jars! friday morning the jars were there and displayed in the window. everything was ready for the sale, which was to start at ten o'clock. mark had fixed up special tables and arranged things so that two of us would sell, one would handle the money, and the other would wrap up the jars folks bought. by nine o'clock we were ready--and there wasn't anything to do but wait. it was a long, anxious hour. well, sir, about a quarter past nine we heard a bell ringing fit to bust itself out in the street. then we heard another bell. all of us ran to the door. there, just starting out from the five-and-ten-cent store, were three boys with big signs on the ends of poles--and those signs said: great sale of mason jars! four for ten cents at the five-and-ten-cent store sale open now! _four for ten cents!_ that was a quarter of a cent less than we had to pay spillane & company for them! chapter xi "there," says i, "goes thirty-nine dollars and a half." tallow and binney were pretty discouraged, too, and mark looked more downhearted than i ever saw him. mr. jehoshaphat p. skip had about knocked us all off our feet. "we'll have to go on with the sale," i says. "maybe we can get rid of some--and that'll save us a dollar or so, anyhow." mark didn't say a word. i saw him fumbling around in his pocket after his jackknife--and that meant business. he had done a lot of thinking since we started to run the bazar, but this was the first time he had wanted to whittle. that was about the last help he depended on. when everything else failed mark tidd whittled. he went back behind the counter with a piece of box and started littering up the floor. we stayed away from him and waited. it was fifteen minutes, maybe, before we saw his head coming up into sight. he didn't look happy and his eyes didn't twinkle. but he _did_ look determined. we fellows have been in some tight places with mark, and have met some pretty mean men, but jehoshaphat p. skip was the first one to get mark mad clean through and through. "well?" says i, as he came around the end of the counter. "this man skip," says he, "hasn't had time to get in a fresh s-s-stock of mason jars." "what of it?" "d-don't b'lieve he's got many. just his regular stock." "but he's spoiled our sale, anyhow." mark shook his head. "maybe so--but we'll see. got some friends we can depend on? grown-up folks?" "there's uncle ike bond--and i'll bet chet weevil and chancy miller 'd do 'most anything for us, with the beauty contest going on." "g-good," says mark. "who else?" "dad," says binney. "my dad, too," says tallow. "f-fine. need more, though." we thought up a dozen folks and mark asked us to run to see them and find out if they would come to the bazar just a minute. he said to tell them it was important. in another fifteen minutes they were there--a dozen of them. mark stood up and says: "i want you f-f-folks to buy mason jars--from jehoshaphat p. skip. he's sellin' 'em for less than we can buy them for. d-don't b'lieve he's got many dozen." "what's the idee?" says uncle ike. "we got a sale on," says mark. "th-three jars for a dime. this man skip--just to bust up our sale--goes and advertises f-four jars for a dime. what we got to do is buy every last jar he's got--_quick_! we got to buy 'em before wicksville folks start buyin'. when they come to buy from the five-and-ten-cent store there mustn't be any there to b-b-buy." uncle ike slapped his leg. "smartest kid i ever see," says he to himself. "greased lightenin's slow. folks, i've been drivin' a 'bus a good many years, and you git to know a lot on a 'bus. grand eddication. but never in all them years have i seen the beat of this here mark tidd. no, sir. he tops the pile." everybody was willing to help us out, so mark gave them money out of the till and they straggled off to the five-and-ten-cent store. each one was to buy all he could. uncle ike came first with two dozen, and binney's dad brought two dozen--seems that's all skip would sell to one person. then the rest straggled in with two dozen apiece till it came to chet weevil. "only got half a dozen," says he, grinning all over. "the last half-dozen there was. we've cleaned him out. every last can's bought." then mark grinned--and said thank you to everybody and told us to get to our places, for the sale was going to start. he went back to paint a new sign. it said: when you come back from the five-and-ten-cent store without any mason jars buy them here three for a dime we have plenty he put that up and then we waited. i stood in the door where i could watch the five-and-ten-cent store. quite a lot of folks went in--and came out again looking sort of mad. most of them came back up the street, and when they saw our new sign they turned in. provoked! say, they believed, i guess, that skip had played a joke on them. "have _you_ got any mason jars?" old mrs. stovall says, sharp-like. "l-lots of 'em, ma'am," says mark. "three for a dime." "gimme two dozen," says she. and then she shook her black bonnet till the jet beads rattled. "i went into that other place," says she, "and that smart alec of a clerk says they was all sold out. fine way to treat folks! advertise a thing and then not have it to sell." "yes, ma'am," says mark. "you'll find this bazar always has what it advertises, and as g-g-good as it advertises." "i hain't never been cheated here," she says, "and i won't never be cheated _there_. i'll never step a foot inside that store again if it was the last place on the footstool." mark began to look cheerful, and as time went along he looked more cheerful. we had a steady stream of customers--and most of them had been to the other store first. and they were mad. skip had done his business more harm that morning than as if he'd locked up his door to shut folks out. he'd made them mad--and he'd fixed it so they were suspicious of him. mark says if you get folks to distrusting you you might just as well shut up shop, and i guess it's so. by noon eight gross of our cans were gone and we were beginning to worry for fear we would run out--and we would have run out, too, if it hadn't been for those we bought from skip--almost a gross. they just saved our bacon. when we shut the store at six o'clock there were exactly six cans left in the house. we had made a profit of eight dollars and forty cents on our own cans, and on the one hundred and twenty-six jars we bought from skip at two cents apiece we had cleared just one dollar--and lots of satisfaction. it was a total profit of nine dollars and forty cents instead of a loss of thirty-nine dollars and a half. and mark tidd had done it. with that _thinking_ brain of his he'd got us out of the worst kind of a hole--and put jehoshaphat p. skip into one. he's done a lot of things that got bigger results, but i don't believe he ever did anything that was any _smarter_. "wish somebody'd tell skip just what happened to him," i says. "me, too," says binney and tallow, and tallow said he guessed he'd go tell skip himself. "no need," says mark, "the story's all over town. everybody knows by this t-time--and everybody 'll be laughin' at jehoshaphat to-morrow. it hain't a good th-thing for a b-business man to have the town laughin' at him." "humiliatin'," says i, "and especially when he got caught in his own trap by a kid he's 'most old enough to be granddad to." mark chuckled. "we did pretty good," says he. "_we!_" says i. "we didn't have anything to do with it. it was you--and you get all the credit that's comin'." mark shrugged his shoulders so the fat at the back of his neck tried to crowd his ears. he was willing enough to be praised and liked to have folks think he was a wonder--but he wasn't mean about it. he never tried to hog the glory and was willing the rest of us should get all we could. but it did tickle him to know we appreciated him--and he deserved to be tickled. we passed jehoshaphat p. on our way home and grinned at him cheerful-like. i thought for a minute he was going to stop and say something, but he strangled it back and went on as fast as his thin legs would carry him. tallow started to yell something after him, but mark made him shut up. "that's all right for kids," says he, "but we're business men--for a while, anyhow. let's act like b-b-business men." wasn't that mark all over! whatever he did or whatever he pretended to do--he was that thing. if we played cowboy he was a cowboy, and acted and thought like a cowboy. i calculate if we were to make believe we were aeroplanes he'd spread his arms and fly. we passed my house and i turned in. "to-morrow's saturday," says i, "and a long day. get a good sleep to-night." "yes," says mark. "we g-got to stir things up t-to-morrow. folks 'll be expectin' somethin' of us. mustn't d-disappoint anybody. good night." i said good night and went in the house. there was a letter there from mother. she said dad was getting along pretty well, but it would be a month before he could leave the hospital. she said she told him what we boys were doing and he was proud of us, and she was proud of us, too. "i don't know what we'd ever do without our boy and his friends," she said. "especially mark tidd. you thank the boys for us, son, and tell mark tidd the thing he is doing and the way he has come to help us is something a very sick man and a troubled woman are grateful for to the bottoms of their hearts. his mother must be proud of him." i went over to mark's house after supper and read him that. he was quiet for a long time--and i saw him blink and blink because something came into his eyes he didn't want me to see. pretty soon he says: "plunk, there's different ways of gettin' paid for things. there's money and fame and such-like, but, honest, seems to me, and you can t-tell your mother so for me, that what she says in her letter is the f-finest thing that ever happened." he blinked again a couple of times. "when you're th-through with it, plunk, i wish you'd give me that letter. i'd--i'd like to keep it--always." that was a side of mark tidd i never saw before. it sort of gave me a look inside of him. always before i'd thought about his being smart and scheming and sharper than most folks, but now i saw there was something more--maybe something better and worth more to have--a great big heart that was full of sympathy for folks and that could be sorry when other folks were sorry and glad when they were glad. i was pretty embarrassed and couldn't find a word to say, but i gave him the letter. he folded it carefully and put it in his pocket. "plunk," says he, "i'd s-sort of like to read this to dad and m-mother.... i guess they'd like to hear it." "sure," says i, sort of pinched in my throat. i know how _my_ folks would be glad to have somebody say such a thing about me. my mother 'd cry, i know, but it wouldn't be because she was sorry. not much. so i says "sure," and got out of there as fast as i could, because i didn't know how much longer i'd last without getting messy and acting like--like a fellow doesn't like to act. chapter xii by saturday our beauty contest was getting pretty warm. folks had talked about it and argued about it till they really got to believe there was some importance to the thing. there were quarrels over husbands, and chet weevil and chancy miller had to be separated every time they met. those two young men took it pretty serious. chet said if chancy was to win he'd pick up and leave wicksville for ever, and chancy said if chet was to win he'd go off and live in a cabin in the woods where he never would see another human being, he'd be that ashamed. mrs. peterson and mrs. bloom didn't speak to each other any more, but put in all their spare time fussing around town trying to scrape up votes for their husbands. there were a lot of others just as bad. but when wicksville heard how old mose miller had a thousand votes and didn't know who he was going to cast them for, there was excitement. you can bet there was. early saturday morning chancy came sneaking into the store to find out about it. "mark," says he, "is it a fact that old mose has got a thousand votes?" "yes," says mark. "he's got 'em, all r-right." "sort of an uncle of mine--old mose is," says chancy, and he grinned satisfied-like. "blood's thicker 'n water. guess i'll go out to see him." "i would," says mark. "if i was you i wouldn't l-lose any time." chancy was no sooner gone than chet came in with the same question. "huh!" says he when mark told him the rumor was so. "thousand votes. that'll about win this contest, won't it?" "come p-pretty close," says mark. "then," says chet, "i got to have 'em. _got_ to! i'm goin' out to see the old skeezicks. i'm goin' this minnit." "good idee," says mark. "but old mose is chancy's uncle. know th-that? blood's thicker 'n water." "no sich thing," says chet. "there hain't no sich hate as that between relatives. chancy's father and old mose had a row over their father's will. been hatin' each other twenty-odd years. chancy 'll never count them votes, you listen to me." well, sir, i looked toward the door, and who should be coming in but old mose himself. right behind him was chancy. chet he took one look and made for the old fellow and grabbed him by the arm. "why, mr. miller," says he, grabbing for the old man's hand to shake it, "i dun'no' when i've been so tickled to see anybody. how be you, anyhow? hope you're feelin' spry as a two-year-old." old mose scowled at him. "do, eh? do you, now? huh! who be _you_, anyhow? what call you got to be mixin' up with my health? glad to see me, be you? well, young feller, 'tain't mutual. not none. leggo that hand. leggo." "but, mr. miller, i am glad to see you. you and my father is old friends. he often speaks of you. honest he does. you hain't forgot henry weevil, have you?" "no, nor i hain't likely to, the shiftless old coot! henry weevil's son, be you? reckon you take after him, too. necktie looks like it. henry had about gumption enough to spend his last quarter for a red rag to tie around his neck." just then chancy came springing forward and made a grab at chet. "you quit pesterin' and disturbin' this old gentleman," says he. "he's my uncle, he is, and i hain't goin' to stand by to see no town loafer molestin' him. you git." old mose took one look at chancy--and it was considerable of a look, too. "uncle!" he snorted. "uncle, is it? don't let it git out. i hain't proud of it. don't go claimin' no relationship with me, you young flapdoodle. i'd rather be catched stealin' sheep than to have folks remember i was your uncle. git out. git away from me 'fore i up and bust the toe of my boot on you." well, chancy drew back a little, quite a little. he got clear out of range. chet grinned at him provoking. but chancy was a persistent sort of fellow; he tried old mose again. "i don't see what for you hold anythin' agin me, uncle, i never done a thing to you." "don't you dast call me uncle," says old mose, and he takes a step forward, belligerent-like. chet put in his oar. "that's right, mr. miller. i'd hate to own he was a relative of mine--him and his curly hair." old mose turned his head slow so he could look at chet, and says: "one more peep out of you and i'll take you acrost my knee and fix you like your ma ought to fix you often. i calc'late you figger you're growed up past spankin's. huh! you yaller-haired slinkum!" things looked pretty discouraging for chet and chancy when in came mrs. bloom, all out of breath. right at her heels was mrs. peterson, panting like all-git-out. up they rushed to old mose. "why, mr. miller," says mrs. bloom, almost putting her arm around him, "i just heard you was in town. my! i'm that glad to see you! you're a-goin' to come and take dinner with us, hain't you?" old mose blinked. he didn't know what to make of it, and before he decided what was going on mrs. peterson wedged herself in and got him by the other arm. "mr. miller's comin' to _our_ house to dinner," says she. "we're a-goin' to have chicken and biscuits in gravy and punkin-pie. you're a-comin' to our house, hain't you?" old mose waggled his head and scowled, and waggled his head some more, and opened his mouth to say something, and shut it again. he had to try three times before he could get out a word. "hey!" he yelled, "you lemme be. you git away from me. what's the matter with these here wimmin? say! dinner! naw, i hain't goin' to dinner with nobody. me set and listen to female gabble! whoo! you leggo my arms. hear me? has this whole consarned town up and went crazy? eh? or what?" well, right on top of all that three young women came pushing in and rushing up to old mose. i knew what they were after--it was votes for school-principal pilkins. "why, mr. miller," they says all at once, "as soon as we heard you was in town we come right down to see you. how be you? my! it seems nice to see you again!" "come right down to see me, did you?" old mose was about as mad as he could get by this time. "well, now you've saw me. here i be from boots to bald spot. i'm well. but i'm gettin' worse. i'm gettin' worse quick. in a minnit i'm goin' to git vi'lent." he backed off and got around the end of the counter where nobody could reach him. "keep off'n me, the whole dod-gasted passel of you. i hain't no idee of the cause of these goin's-on, and i hain't no hankerin' to find out. but i hereby issues a warnin' to all and sundry--keep off'n me! i'm a-goin' to git into my buggy and make for home. i'm a-goin' to git out of this townful of lunatics. when i come ag'in i'm a-goin' to fetch my dawg. he's the meanest dawg in the county. and i'm a-goin' to sic him on to the first man, woman, or child that comes gabblin' and flitterin' around me. take warnin'. now git out of my way, for i'm a-comin'." at that he began waving his arms and started pell-mell for the door. the folks opened up a way for him and he scooted through like the way was greased. just a second he stopped in the door to shake his fist. then he made a jump into his buggy, whipped up his horse, and went tearing for home. mark tidd had stood watching the whole thing as solemn as an undertaker's sign. not even a little twinkle in his eye! when mose was gone he says: "don't seem like old mose was in g-good humor to-day." "he's a rip-roarin', cross-grained, pig-headed, rat-minded old coot," says mrs. peterson, "but i'm a-goin' to git them votes of his'n yet." "think you be, do you?" snapped mrs. bloom. "well, mis' peterson, you'll have to git up earlier in the mornin' than you do on wash-days if you beat _me_. so there." "p-prob'bly," says mark, "it would be b-better to see old mose out at his house of an evenin'. maybe he'd be more reasonable." "we'll see him of an evenin', all right, and we'll see him of a mornin'," says one of the young women that were after votes for pilkins. "and we hain't after his votes for ourselves, neither," she says with a sarcastic look at chet and chancy. "ladies," says mark, breaking right in on them, "have you seen the new p-patent hooks and eyes we just got in from new york? finest thing of the kind ever was in wicksville. lemme sh-show you how they work." he set in and described those hooks and eyes and told what they would do, and showed how they did it. "and," says he, "we give votes with th-these just like with anythin' else. how many cards, mis' peterson?" "gimme a quarter's worth," says she. "sich things always come in handy." mrs. bloom, she bought a quarter's worth, and each of those young women bought a card for a dime. that was eighty cents sold that wouldn't have been sold but for mark taking advantage of things. but he was the sort that took advantage. maybe there wouldn't be much in it every time, but add up a dozen or so times and it was quite a bit. he was business from front to back. "mark," says i, when the folks were all gone, "i'm beginnin' to b'lieve maybe we'll pull through and pay off skip's mortgage." "hum!" says mark. "you be, eh? remember we got to raise five hundred d-dollars and pay expenses and keep sendin' money to your f-folks. 'tain't so easy as it looks. comes perty clost to bein' impossible, _i'd_ say." "not gittin' discouraged?" i says, frightened-like. "no," says he, "but i h-hain't gittin' over-confident, neither. maybe we'll pull through if somethin' don't hit us an extra wallop. but we'll keep a-tryin'." "you bet," says i. "how do we stand now?" "there's ninety-six d-dollars in the bank," says he, "that we can figger on for the mortgage." "fine," says i; "'most a fifth of it." "but we've had l-luck. there was sellin' that phonograph. twenty dollars clear. don't happen every day." "but our daily sales are keeping up pretty well." "if we d-depend on our daily sales to pull us through," says he, "jehoshaphat p. skip 'll be foreclosin' his mortgage. we g-got to keep a-thinkin' up schemes. we got to crowd the business and keep crowdin' it. then, if somethin' we d-don't foresee now don't happen, we got a chance. but if somethin' does happen--" he stopped and shrugged his fat shoulders as much as to say that would be the end of the bazar. but i was feeling pretty good. ninety-six dollars in the bank! that seemed like a lot; and we had put it there ourselves. it seemed to me we were coming along fine. that night i got a telegram from mother. it says: father must have operation. cost hundred dollars. can you send money? i just sat down limp in a chair with all the stiffening gone out of my backbone. there was the extra wallop mark tidd was afraid of. i ran right over to his house and showed him the telegram. "hum!" says he. "l-lucky we got that money in the bank. send it to-morrow." "course," says i. "but it licks us." he stuck out his jaw and his eyes got sort of hard and sparkly. "d-does, eh?" says he. "well, mr. plunk, we hain't licked yet. i felt in my bones bad luck was comin'--and here it is. but we're a-goin' to stick to it, you can bet. skip hasn't put us out of b-business yet." there you were. that very day he'd said something like this would dump our apple-cart for us--and now that it had happened he was as much for keeping on as ever. looked like he didn't know when he was licked. but that was mark tidd all over. he wouldn't let on he had the worst of it till the sheriff had come and closed up the bazar. and then, maybe, there'd be something else he'd think up to try as a last resort. next morning we sent mother the ninety-six dollars in the bank with four dollars besides. it left us with only enough money in the till to make change with. mark looked at it and scowled. "got to m-make it grow," says he, "and grow quick." "all right," says i; "but how?" "i'm goin' b-back to whittle," says he. "in an hour we'll start somethin' goin'." chapter xiii in half an hour mark came up to the front of the store and we stopped talking to listen to him. "we n-never can raise five hundred dollars just by s-sellin' things over the counter--not in the time that's left to us before jehoshaphat p. skip's chattel mortgage is due. even sales and schemes for makin' folks buy more won't be enough." "that's as good as sayin' we're busted," says i. "c-close to it," says mark. "be you givin' up?" i says. "no. and what's more i hain't goin' to give up till jehoshaphat p. wishes he never heard of wicksville. but just ordinary retailin' won't save our b-bacon. we've got to get in a lump of money somehow." "let's be gettin' at it then," says i. "if this man skip only had p-played fair," says mark. "but he hasn't. fellers, he's the right-down meanest man i ever heard of.... and that's the only excuse we g-got for makin' use of the scheme i've got ready. we got to use every way that's honest--even if it is sort of m-mean. maybe it hain't right for me to feel that way, but the meaner the thing is the better i like to do it to him." "same here," says i. "i was hopin' to save up this scheme," says he, "and maybe not use it at all. but we g-got to. so come on." "where?" says i. "lawyer sturgis's," says he. mark and i went across the street and climbed up to mr. sturgis's office. he was one of those dignified men that always wear silk hats and long coats that flop around their knees, and he talked like he'd been exposed to grammar and rhetoric and had caught them both so bad he couldn't be cured. he made speeches at election-times and at any other times when there was any excuse. for that matter, everything he said came close to being a speech. my, my, but he was a talker! he knew words that the man who made the dictionary hasn't heard of yet. but folks said he was a good lawyer and honest and dependable. they said other things about him, too--that he was _good_. in spite of the high-and-mighty way he carried himself, and the way he barked at folks, he was said to be the kind of man who goes out of his way to do folks a favor. heaps of poor folks had got law from him without paying a cent. everybody in wicksville laughed at him a little--and liked him a heap. wicksville folks could laugh at him if they wanted to, but you let a man from sunfield come over and start to make fun of lawyer sturgis and there'd be a fight in a second. it makes a heap of difference who does the laughing. well, we knocked at his door and he yelled to come in so loud people could have heard it across the street. we went right in. he was sitting in front of his desk, with one hand shoved through the front of his vest and the other on his hip--just like pictures of the signing of the declaration of independence; and he was frowning like pictures of daniel webster. "ah-ha!" says he, "what have we here? to what, if i may be permitted to inquire, do i owe the honor of this call? ha! marcus aurelius fortunatus tidd, is it not? indeed! and young smalley. will you enter and be seated?" we entered and were seated. "now," says lawyer sturgis, "let us to business, laying aside all our several and conflicting employments. you have, i judge, come to consult me professionally. am i right?" "you are r-right," says mark. "it's about jehoshaphat p. skip." "ah, indeed! jehoshaphat p. skip! extraordinary individual." "it's about that lease, mr. sturgis, the one you h-helped me get the other day." "to be sure. i recall the circumstance. and now, may i ask, what do you desire concerning this so-called lease?" "i want to shoot it off," says mark. "what?" says mr. sturgis. "you want--what do you want to do to it? shoot it off, did you say?" "yes, sir. don't you remember sayin' it was a regular gun pointed at jehoshaphat p. skip's head? well, sir, i want to sh-shoot it off." "hum! figure of speech, eh? i did not follow you. i did not recall my own metaphor. good. your wit is nimble, my young friend." "we've g-got to have some money--a chunk of it," says mark. "we had quite a bit in the bank, but we had to send it to plunk's father for an operation. i th-thought maybe we could use that lease to raise quite a bit--maybe more'n a hundred dollars." "how? what method did you contemplate?" says mr. sturgis. at this i broke into the talk. "what's this all about?" i asked. "i'm hearin' about leases and sich-like, but i don't know what leases nor nothin'." "remember the d-day i went into the country?" says mark. "yes." "i drove out to see sheridan mogford, who owns the store skip is in. i f-found out skip didn't have a lease. he just rents it by the month. if he had a lease we couldn't do anything. a lease is a kind of a written agreement that says how long a man can rent a p-piece of property at so much a month. if skip had a lease for a year he could keep on s-stayin' in that store a year and we c-couldn't interfere with him. but he didn't have. he said he didn't want to get tied up to any lease till he found out how business was. so he just rents by the m-month." "all right," says i, "but what of it?" "why, i w-went out to see mr. mogford and i talked to him and told him how skip had acted to us--and i got him to make out a lease of skip's store to mr. sturgis, here. only, really, it was to us. mr. sturgis has his name there in our place like. he's our--what-d'you-call-it?" "attorney-in-fact," says mr. sturgis. "in simpler language--your agent." "hum!" says i. "pretty mixed up for me." mark grunted. "why," says he, "when we got that lease we were entitled to move into the store. but we'd have to give skip a m-month's notice. we could force him out--and there isn't another store in wicksville f-for him to go to. see?" "let's do it," says i. "that'll fix everything." mark shook his head. "that wouldn't f-fix anythin'," says he. "what'd happen? we'd have skip out of b-business, but we'd still owe him f-five hundred dollars on that chattel mortgage. and we'd be stuck for the rent of two stores, because we'd have to pay rent where the bazar is now and for skip's store, too. be worse off'n ever." "then what good is your old lease, anyhow?" "i g-got it in the beginning because i knew it would come in handy. i d-didn't know just how i'd use it. but i know now." "how?" "i'm g-goin' to make mr. skip pay himself part of that five hundred dollars. wish i could make him pay himself all of it." "what method of procedure have you chosen?" asked mr. sturgis. "i f-figgered it out you could get skip over here and tell him about the lease and make him pungle over. you can sell the lease, can't you? can't you sell it to him like it was a horse or cow or a p-piece of property?" "a lease, my young friend, is a piece of property and is so recognized by law. we can follow your suggestion. how much do you consider your lease to be worth?" "h-haven't any idee, but we want to git all we can. hundred dollars at least." "i am confident we can secure a greater sum than that. possibly two hundred dollars." "f-fine," says mark, and his eyes glistened. "we won't let him know we have anything to do with it--not now. but won't he be hoppin' mad when he finds out he's gone and bought that chattel mortgage and then has had to p-pay it himself? won't he, though? oh, my!" the scheme hadn't been very clear to me, but i saw it now. mark could make skip move out of his store, and skip would lose a lot of money if he had to move, because there wasn't any place else for him to go in wicksville. the only way he could stay and run his store was to buy that lease from mark. well, sir, i don't know how mark thinks up schemes like that, but he does. this was such a bully scheme, because it couldn't help working. i made up my mind i'd ask him how he came to think of it, because a fellow his age hasn't business understanding about leases and law and such things. "i g-guess you'd better send for mr. skip and break the news to him," says mark, "and," says he, "i wish plunk and i could be in the next room where we c-could hear it." mr. sturgis almost smiled. i bet he would have smiled right out if he hadn't practised being dignified so many years his face wouldn't work the way it used to. but his eyes smiled and the corners of his mouth wiggled a little. "to be sure," said he; "right in there. leave the door ajar and you can hear perfectly. i can--i can readily appreciate your desire to witness the demeanor of mr. skip in the circumstances you have arranged for him. i'll send my boy over for him at once." mark and i went into the next room as soon as we saw jehoshaphat p. skip coming down the street, but we left the door open about an inch so we would be sure to hear. mark got down on all-fours and put his ear to the crack. i stood over him. mark was heaving and rolling all over him, he was so tickled. it was one of those laughs of his without any noise to it. i felt pretty tickled myself. in a minute skip came into mr. sturgis's office and said good afternoon and wanted to know why he was sent for. "it is in reference to the store you occupy at present," said mr. sturgis. "you have no lease, as the facts come to me, but only rent from month to month." "exactly," says skip. "what of it?" "the store has been leased to another party," says mr. sturgis. "leased? how can they lease it? hain't i occupyin' it? say, what you talkin' about, anyhow?" "other parties approached mr. mogford, owner of the building; he has granted them a lease for a period of two years. the next proceeding on the part of my client will be to notify you to leave the premises in thirty days." well, sir, you should have seen skip! his long neck looked like it stretched six inches to get his head closer to mr. sturgis, and his pinkish hair bristled, and his little squinty eyes snapped and glittered. then he caught hold of his nose like he always does when he is excited and began bending it back and forth till i thought likely he'd crack it off. "who's gone and sneaked behind my back and got that lease? hey? what slinkin', underhanded, sheep-stealin' pirate did me sich a mean trick? it's agin the law, i tell you. 'tain't honest. i'll git me a lawyer and show you. that's what i'll do." "as far as that point is concerned," says mr. sturgis, "my client is amply protected by the laws of this state. as for any action you may take with reference to keeping possession of this property, my client will be perfectly able to meet you and, if i may say so, to cause you to regret such a waste of time and money. the lease belongs to my client. if he wishes to force you out in thirty days, he will be able to do so." "but where'll i go? what'll i do? i got money invested here. there hain't another store to move to." "that, mr. skip, does not, so to speak, worry my client. indeed, if i be not wrongly informed, my client would not object to causing you a trifle of annoyance." "who is your client? who is he?" "i am not at liberty to state." "he's a skinflint, that's what he is. what kind of a way of doin' business is this, anyhow? 'tain't fair. 'tain't just. no business man would treat another like this." "h'm! i'm not so sure, mr. skip. while we're on that subject i might say i've heard of dealings of your own that might have been more upright. i have been informed, mr. skip, that you have resorted to means which are, to say the least, reprehensible. i, sir, have been practising law in wicksville for thirty-five years. i can assure you, sir, that, had i not considered my client justified in the course he follows in this matter, i should have declined to act for him. i do believe him justified. i believe, sir, that it will do you no harm, sir, to have, so to speak, a dose of your own medicine." skip got up out of his chair and paced up and down and waggled his nose and craned his neck. he just didn't know what to do. he was scared and excited and mad--my! my! but he was mad! he was caught, and he knew it. you could tell by his face he knew it, and you could see he was pretty wrought up with himself for not getting a lease in the beginning. the more he walked up and down and thought it over the more scared he got--scared of losing some money. pretty soon he stopped before mr. sturgis and says: "i can't move, mr. sturgis. i've _got_ to stay in that store. won't you see your client and find out if we can't make some sort of an arrangement? say, won't you do that, mr. sturgis?" he was all worked up and his voice sounded like he was going to break down and cry. i looked down at mark. his face had an expression i never saw on it before--sort of _grim_. he didn't look like he was enjoying the misery skip was in. that wasn't his expression at all. but he did look like he was doing something he knew he ought to do, and was getting satisfaction out of it. i suppose maybe a general looks like that when he catches one of his officers being a traitor and orders him to be executed. yes, that's the sort of look it was. "i have full authority to deal with you," says mr. sturgis. "though my client may think you deserve to be ejected, he will not object if i take less severe measures. what, if anything, would you suggest?" "can't--can't i buy the lease? won't he sell it to me?" "well, now, mr. skip, possibly something of that sort could be arranged. how much, for instance, would you be willing to pay for the lease?" "fifty dollars." "a-hem! fifty dollars. ah, you consider the lease worth fifty dollars, do you? i, on my part, believe it is worth more than that to my client. i think i do not make a misstatement when i say my client would rather keep his lease than sell it for that amount." "seventy-five." "mr. skip, if it is going to mean a severe money loss to you to move, if there is no other store building in wicksville, it seems to me your offer, considering the circumstances, is low--too low." "what do you want, then? how much? if it's too high i may as well move. i'd rather lose my money moving than to give it to a man that rigged up a scheme to hold me up, anyhow." that sort of scared me and i nudged mark, but he shook his head for me to be quiet. "two hundred dollars is the price, mr. skip. that is final. you can take it or leave it. my time, i may say, is of value. you have used considerable of it. two hundred dollars. is it yes or no?" skip thought a moment, and wriggled like there was a burr inside his shirt, and groaned, but he came around. "it's a skin game," says he, "and a hold-up, but i'll pay it." "all right," says mr. sturgis. "pay it, then." that was the shortest and most businesslike speech i ever heard him make. he pulled the lease out of his pocket and waited. skip, still muttering and mumbling and groaning, took out his check-book and wrote a check. then mr. sturgis signed the lease over to him. "good afternoon, mr. skip," says mr. sturgis. "i hope you will ponder over this transaction. you will find material for thought in it, i am certain. in wicksville we believe in competition, in fair competition. we believe in doing by others as we would like to have others do by us. an old saying, mr. skip. in this instance you have had done to you what you have done to others.... it is not, i believe i am safe in saying, particularly pleasant. good afternoon, mr. skip." skip grabbed the lease and plunged out of the door and down the stairs. as soon as it was safe mark and i came out. i was almost busted open with curiosity. "say, mark," says i, "how in tunket did you think up that scheme? how'd you ever hear about leases and sich? and law?" "i d-dun'no's i know much about 'em," says mark. "when i went to see mr. mogford i wasn't more'n half sure what a lease was. it all come from readin' the papers. there was a big lawsuit in detroit about leases, and i read accounts of it. it told consid'able. then i asked around some. perty soon i come to the conclusion there was somethin' to it.... and that's all." "um!" says mr. sturgis. "um!... young man, have you chosen a profession? have you, if i may put it so, chosen the walk of life you will follow?" "why," says mark, "don't b'lieve i have. i've got to g-go to college first." "i advise you, my young friend, to consider the law. i do. should you decide to enter this most dignified and pleasant profession and return to wicksville to practise, i shall be glad, exceedingly glad, to have you in my office--with a view to partnership at an early date. you are young, my friend, but years soon pass. how old might you be?" "almost s-s-sixteen," says mark. "in six or seven years you will be ready.... think it over." "thank you, sir," says mark. "i'll think about it, but i guess, so far's i can see, i sort of l-like business. i calc'late to go into business, buyin' and sellin'. i hain't sure, yet, but that's how i've been figgerin'." we talked a minute more with mr. sturgis, and then went back to the store. it was time, for it was saturday and things were beginning to liven up. chapter xiv when i told tallow and binney how we'd harpooned mr. skip for two hundred dollars they were so tickled they almost jumped out of their shoes. tallow wanted to go over and stand in front of the five-and-ten-cent store to gibe at jehoshaphat, but mark wouldn't have it. he said skip didn't know who was at the bottom of the scheme, and wasn't going to find out yet. mark had his reasons, and, because he owned the scheme, so to speak, we did as he said. two hundred dollars! that made up for the hundred we had to send mother and gave us an extra hundred into the bargain--and about a million dollars' worth of satisfaction. it beats all how you can make money if you happen to know how. mark tidd didn't spend more than a couple of hours earning this--but i suppose he did two hundred dollars' worth of thinking, or he wouldn't have made a go of it. he says if you want to make money you've either got to do the money's worth of work or the money's worth of figuring. i expect he's right. business was pretty fair the rest of the day. we didn't close until half past ten, and we were good and tired, i can tell you. our beauty contest was getting along fine. nobody forgot to ask for votes when they bought a dime's worth, and the big talk of the day was about old miller and his thousand votes. i don't suppose there was anybody in that contest who didn't hope to pry those votes away from old mose, and everybody was looking for a hint about how to go at it. mark tidd was the chief hinter. he told every one the same thing. "if i was you," says he to everybody that asked his advice, "i'd w-w-wait till sometime when mose was likely to be alone. sometime like sunday afternoon. then i'd go out to his place like i was j-just makin' him a call. 'twouldn't do any harm to talk about cats. just mention cats casual-like. it'll s'prise you how it'll strike him. then you might edge along and m-mention that you got a kitten. tell him you hate to spare that kitten, but, seein' who he is and what a high regard you got for him, you'll fetch it out for him. don't mention votes yet. see if you can't git him to m-mention 'em himself. yes, sir, if i was you i'd go out about half past two; he'll be through dinner then and feelin' perty good." that's the answer mark had for everybody. cats! we found out a couple of months ago how old mose hates cats--hates 'em and is afraid of 'em. he'd rather pet a rattlesnake than a cat. that night as we were walking home mark says: "guess we b-better meet about two o'clock and slide out to old mose's. shouldn't be s'prised if there was somethin' there to see that 'u'd be worth watchin'." we wouldn't be surprised, either, and you can bet we agreed to meet him. sunday morning everybody in wicksville went to church and the young folks stayed to sunday-school. i hurried through my dinner and was at mark's house before he was through. _he_ didn't hurry his dinner. not much! anybody that finds mark tidd slighting a meal wants to report it, for it'll be one of the wonders of the world. no, he wasn't through yet and mrs. tidd made me come in and eat a piece of apple-pie. mark was just finishing up his second piece and was looking covetous-like at the third, but his mother put her foot down and wouldn't let him have it. so he finished off with an apple and a banana and a bit of rice-pudding left from yesterday and then said he guessed he'd put half a dozen cookies in his pocket to eat on the way. by that time tallow and binney came along and we started out the river road to old mose's. we began going cautious before we got in sight of the farm, because we didn't want mose to see us and we didn't want anybody from wicksville to know we had put up a joke on them--that would be bad for business. so we turned off the road and dodged closer, all the time keeping out of sight behind shocks of corn in the field that was next to old mose's farm-yard. we crept up behind a clump of lilac-bushes and then craned our necks to see where we could find a good place to hide and watch what went on. old mose was out on his porch, playing his phonograph. he had one of those talking-records going--we could hear it plain as could be. all at once we heard him yell: "shut up! shut up! i tell you. hain't you been jawin' enough? say! hain't you goin' to give a man no peace?" then he jumped up and shut off the machine. of course the talking stopped. old mose grinned proud-like, just as if he'd done something worth while. "haw!" says he, "you will, eh? you will set there and jaw and jaw! i'll show you. jest like all folks, hain't you? want to keep wagglin' your tongue all the time. but i kin shut you up. old mose is the feller that kin turn you off." he sat down and chuckled and talked to himself and paid his respects to the way folks like to talk for quite a spell. then he got up and started off another talking-record. he let it run about two minutes and then up and began yelling at _it_. "whoa-up! you've talked enough, mister. close your mouth and give a body a chance to think." and up he jumped to turn off the machine again. he acted just as tickled this time as he did before. i never saw anybody get so much pleasure out of anything. "he d-didn't buy that phonograph to run," says mark. "he bought it to sh-sh-shut off." yes, sir, that was it. the thing he wanted that machine for was to have something that talked that he could shut up whenever he wanted to. the satisfaction he got out of ordering wax records to keep quiet and then making them mind him was a caution. about a dozen feet to our right was a shed with a roof that sloped back toward the fence. the front of it wasn't over eight feet from the porch. a clump of sumach grew toward the road and would hide anybody who was of a mind to lie on top of it, and a maple-tree grew right up behind. it was the bulliest kind of a hiding-place. we made for it one at a time, and in three minutes and a half we were all up there, lying in a row, overlooking old mose and his porch and his phonograph. we could see and hear everything that went on without a bit of danger of anybody seeing us. "'most t-time the folks were comin'," says mark in a whisper. "yes," says i. "here comes a buggy up the road now." sure enough, there was a buggy, only there were two of them, and they were coming pell-mell for election. it was a race. we could hear the drivers yelling at their horses and leaning over the dashboards to larrup them with their whips. side by side they came, rolling and pitching and looking for all the world as if they were going to bang into each other or turn bottom side up any minute. at first we couldn't see who was in them for the dust they kicked up, but pretty soon they came near enough so we could tell it was chet weevil and chancy miller. they galloped their horses right up to old mose's front gate and then pulled them in so quick they almost busted the lines. neither one waited to tie up, but just jumped over the wheel and made for the gate. it wasn't a very wide gate, and it opened outward. chet got there just a tenth of a second ahead, but before he could get the gate open chancy banged into him and began clawing at him and pushing to get past. chet hung on to the gate and chancy hung on to chet. old mose got up and stood looking at them with his jaw dropped down and his eyes big as turnips. he was so surprised he couldn't even move. chet kept on hanging to the gate and fumbling for the catch. chancy tugged and jerked and braced his feet--and all at once the gate swung open and down they went, with chancy on the bottom. chet's elbow went kerplump into his stomach, and chancy let loose a yell that was mournfuler than a cow mooing when she's lost track of her calf. chet jumped up quick to make a dash into the yard, but chancy reached out and grabbed his foot, and down he went on his nose. then it seemed like both of them forgot just why they came. for a while votes and old mose left their minds entirely, and they set themselves to the job of pulling each other to pieces. by this time old mose was coming to a little, but hadn't got so he could talk much yet. but his mad was getting up. first he began to step up and down like the porch was too hot for his feet. then he began waggling his head and working his jaw. then he began sawing the air with his arms. all that exercise cleared out his throat so it could be used, and out came a yell. it wasn't a word and didn't mean anything; it was just a yell, but it was a mad yell. i've heard a lot of yells at one time and another, but i don't remember any one of them that beat this one of mose's much. he went hobbling down the path to the gate and slammed it shut. outside in the sand chet and chancy were wallowing and clawing around and pulling hair and kicking and trying to rub each other's faces in the dirt. old mose leaned over the gate and watched them. all of a sudden he chuckled. it wasn't a good-natured chuckle, by any means, but the sort of a chuckle a mean man gives when he sees something disagreeable happening to somebody he doesn't like. he leaned over farther and began yelling at chet and chancy. "give it to him. that's the way. come squabblin' around my gate, will you! git a holt on to his nose, there. whee!... shove his face in the dirt. who! consarn ye--both of ye! hope ye git them dude clothes fixed for once. grab him by the collar. ya-aah! whoop!" he was going on at a great rate when another buggy stopped and out climbed mrs. bloom. she looked for a minute, and then swooped down on chancy and chet like a mad turkey hen and grabbed each of them by the handiest part she could get a hold of. "git right up," says she. "hain't you ashamed of yourselves, fightin' like two roosters--and on sunday afternoon! where's the town marshal? git right up out of a body's way. i want to git through that gate. git up, i say, and let a body by." "want to git through this gate, do ye?" says old mose. "i got somethin' to say about that. what d'ye want to git through this gate for? i don't want ye. hain't got no use for wimmin folks, anyhow, and special i hain't got no use for gabblin' wimmin folks. you jest git into that buggy of yourn and go away from here." "why, mr. miller!" says she, sweet as honey all of a sudden. "i didn't see you standin' there. how be you this afternoon?" "sick," says old mose, "and gittin' worse fast." before mrs. bloom could say anything back two more buggies came to a stop and out got mrs. peterson and two young women that were after votes for professor pilkins. by this time chet and chancy got untangled, and two such looking critters you never saw. dirty! and their clothes were torn, and their collars were half off, and they were daubed and scratched and red and panting and pretty clost to crying. all they could do was lean on the fence and glare at each other and try to get back their breath. the three last women started for the gate. old mose looked at them and began backing off. all of a sudden he started on a run for the house and slammed inside. in just a minute he came back with a pail of steaming water. he was getting ready to defend his fortification. he went down close to the gate and held the pail threatening-like, and says: "don't ye open that gate, not any of ye. the fust one to set foot on my land gits this b'ilin' water. git, now! git right out of here 'fore i send for the sheriff of this here county. git!" but nobody got. instead of that more folks began arriving. as far as i could see down the road buggies were coming--more than a dozen of them. there were men and women and kids, and they all congregated in a knot outside of the gate. but nobody offered to go in--not with that pail of boiling water to face. mrs. peterson spoke up. "why, mr. miller," says she, "what's the meanin' of this? here i drive 'way out here of a sunday afternoon just to fetch you this punkin-pie, and this is how i git treated." she glowered at the rest of the crowd. "what's these folks doin' here? they ought to be ashamed of themselves--pesterin' a poor old defenseless man." "poor old defenseless man, eh? jest you stick a foot this side of my gate and you'll see how defenseless i be. jest stick a _toe_ inside!" everybody began to talk at once. they crowded up to the gate and sassed each other and tried to be polite to old mose at the same time. 'most everybody had brought him a pie or a cake or something. the old man was so mad he just hopped up and down and raved at them. right there mark tidd made a noise like a cat. he could imitate a kitten so it sounded more natural than the kitten doing it himself. old mose straightened up and cocked his ear. mark let him have it again. "scat!" he yelled, looking around scared-like. "scat!" well, that reminded folks of the cat. mrs. bloom spoke up and says: "mr. miller, i got the cunnin'est kitten to home. i set a heap of store by it, but knowin' how fond you be of cats i dun'no' but i'd be willin' to give it to you--" she never got any farther because everybody in the crowd--and there were twenty if there was one--set up a yell about _their_ kittens. a couple of folks actually had brought cats along and held them up in the air for old mose to see. the old man just took one look and let his pail of water go swoosh right into the crowd. pretty lucky it had time to cool, but it was just as wet as ever. you never saw such a mess! chet and chancy got first choice of it, but everybody got all he had any use for. those two young fellows, though, looked like they had taken their sunday baths with their clothes on. nobody waited. everybody decided he wanted to be somewhere else, and they scattered like a bunch of quail when you walk into the middle of them. old mose began yelling after them. then he charged through the gate in pursuit, and first off he grabbed chancy. "hey, you," says he, giving him a shake that must have loosened his curly hair, "what's this about, anyhow? what's the reason everybody in wicksville's pesterin' around my front door? eh? what's the reason?" he gave chancy another shake. "out with it. what's fetched this gang of lunatics here? tell me 'fore i shake the ears off'n you." chancy choked and coughed and got his voice. "votes," says he in a sort of husky whisper. "votes?" says old mose. "what votes?" "beauty contest," says everybody, crowding around. "you got them thousand votes and nobody to vote 'em for.... handsomest man in wicksville--" "huh!" says old mose. "and you lunatics come out here hopin' to pry them votes out of me, eh? thought you'd fool old mose miller with pies and cakes, eh? votes.... i'll vote ye. if this here was the homeliest-man contest, nobody'd git them votes, i can tell ye. vote 'em myself, then. take study, though. homeliest man in wicksville. there'd be a contest! everybody could git into it. hain't much to choose. votes.... jest stand there a minute, and don't a one of you dast step on to my premises." he turned and went into the house. in a couple of jiffies he was back with his hands full of votes. the folks drew a long breath and crowded closer. "ye want votes, eh?" says he as he got to the fence. "well, then, help yourselves." at that he began chucking handfuls of them into the faces of the crowd, and chuckling. handful after handful he threw--and everybody began a scramble. it was the worst mix-up that ever happened within a hundred miles of wicksville. everybody was in it--and in it to get votes. i never saw such a tangle of human beings. i bet there wasn't one of them could have sorted himself out and got his own arms and legs to save his life. and noise! it's lucky it was so far out in the country. squealing and gouging and kicking and scratching. my! my! and all the time old mose leaned over the fence to sic them on and chuckle. the air was full of votes and arms and legs and noises! that sort of thing can't keep up long, but it's fine to watch while it keeps on. in two or three minutes folks began to feel around to find if they were all there and to scramble out of the mess. it didn't take them long to get separated--and there they stood, everybody clutching a few votes in his hand and glaring at everybody else. then all of a sudden it seemed like everybody got ashamed. a scurry for the buggies set in, and the whole crowd, still as anything and, i expect, wishing they hadn't come, started off for town. the only folks who were pleased all the way through were old mose miller and us fellows on top of the shed. mark tidd was laughing that still laugh of his till i was afraid he'd roll off the roof. "b-b-beauty contest!" says he. "don't seem like folks would make such idiots of themselves over a contest that don't make any difference to anybody!" i says. mark chuckled again. "'tain't the reason for the c-c-contest that counts," he says, "it's that it _is_ a contest. the whole idee of the thing is that nobody likes to have anybody else b-b-beat them at anything." "that's so," says i. "seems like i'd be sorrier to have jehoshaphat p. skip beat us than i would be to lose the bazar." "um!" says mark. "neither of these things is l-l-likely to happen." and then we sneaked back home. chapter xv in spite of all we could do, business fell off. it was just as i had argued from the very beginning--there wasn't enough trade in wicksville for two stores like ours and jehoshaphat p. skip's. even if we got half or more than half, it wouldn't keep us running. of course i know as well as anybody else that mark tidd's schemes had made folks buy more than they usually did, and for a couple of weeks we sold more than my father generally sold in that much time, but pretty soon everybody was stocked up with the sort of stuff we had and things were about as bad as ever. the week after the rumpus at old mose miller's things started out pretty fair, but along about wednesday it got dull, and from then on there weren't enough customers to pay to keep the doors open. it seemed like we just couldn't draw them in, and i expect it was as bad at skip's. in fact, i _know_ it was, for we kept watch on him pretty close. if things kept on like they were going, neither one of the stores could last. skip would put us out of business, but he would put himself out of business doing it. i said so to mark and he told me to keep thinking about it if i got any particular satisfaction out of it, which i didn't. saturday came along, and though we advertised and trimmed our windows and fixed up special-bargain-tables, it didn't do a bit of good. and right there, that very morning, along comes jehoshaphat p. with an announcement that with every dollar's purchase he would give a ticket to the moving-picture show that had started up in the opera-house. mark tidd was so mad at himself he could have taken a bite out of his own ear if he could have got hold of it. "sh-should have thought of that myself," he says, and went sulking to the back of the store and wouldn't have anything to do with anybody for a couple of hours. there he sat, scowling and whittling--and we kept away from him as far as we could. i know just how bad he felt. for once he didn't have a scheme. yes, sir. right there he seemed to go dry. we expected him to come up with a new idea that would stand skip and his moving-picture show on their heads, but he didn't. he never said a word. i guess he'd been thinking up so many plans that he was about run dry. and i don't blame him. i'd have run dry long before. but just the same it was the most discouraging thing that had happened to us yet. so long as mark tidd kept going there was hope, but if he began to slip we might just as well close the doors and give the bazar to jehoshaphat. that day we did a little business, and for the next week we sold enough so there was something to send mother at the end of the week, but we didn't lay a cent aside. we paid expenses and a little over. if there had been clerks to pay we would have come out behind. most of the time mark sat back on a packing-box and whittled. we left him alone. he was as worried as we were, and we knew he was trying, trying every minute. i guess the only thing that kept our heads above water was that beauty contest. folks kept right on being interested in that and watched for results every time we put up names. principal pilkins, with a lot of young ladies working for him, was climbing up pretty fast. mr. peterson was coming strong, too. his wife stirred up a lot of votes for him, and so did mrs. bloom for her husband. one week one of them would be ahead, and the next week the other would shoot into the lead. then there were chet and chancy! i guess those two gave up everything else to run down votes. they begged them and borrowed them and worked for them and traded for them. yes, that is a fact. votes got to be a sort of money among the boys. you were always sure you could swap them for something. most of the time there was a boy or so hanging around the front of the bazar to ask everybody that came out for the votes they'd got. some people weren't interested a bit, and would toss them over. so the boys managed to get a stock. those five were in the lead a little. you never could tell which one would come out ahead until there was a count. but at least a dozen more men were up where they had a chance. so everybody was interested, and almost everybody was mad at somebody else. that's all that kept us going. the next week mark managed to think up a couple of things to interest folks. one was a guessing-contest. he filled a big bottle with beans and put it in the window. everybody who bought a nickel's worth could have a guess at how many beans there were, and the one who came nearest was to get a prize. if it was a lady she got a pair of gloves, and if it was a man he got a patent safety razor that looked like a cross between the cow-catcher on an engine and a hoe. wicksville was quite a place to guess, so we got in a little trade with that. that week we did better than the week before. but after we had sent mother what she needed we only put by five dollars in the bank. we were still nearly three hundred dollars away from having enough to pay jehoshaphat p. skip his five hundred dollars and get free from the chattel mortgage. "mark," says i, that saturday night as we were closing up, "how about it? of course we've got to hang on as long as we can for the folks' sake, but we're beat, hain't we? jehoshaphat has sunk our ship." mark was mad in a minute. "s-sunk nothin'!" says he. "we got a couple of weeks more, and who knows what'll turn up? i'm a-goin' to think of somethin'. i know i am. it'll come. so don't you go gittin' any more downhearted than you can help. jehoshaphat p. skip isn't goin' to b-b-bust this business while i got a leg to stand on." "all right," says i, "but your leg's gettin' sawed off fast." he didn't say anything to that. i guess there wasn't anything to say. after a while he says: "there's ways of makin' m-m-money--of makin' a lot of it at once. that's what i've been figgerin' on. if we could just pay off skip i believe this business will go along. i don't b-believe two businesses like his and ours can make a living in wicksville. but i do b-believe we'll be the one that's left. he can't afford to keep on, and we can't afford to quit. and there you are." "then," i says, sarcastic-like, "all we got to do is raise three hundred dollars in six or eight days." he squinted at me, but didn't say anything. "we've been tryin' to raise that money for five weeks," i says. "five weeks! and what have we got to show for it? two hundred dollars! that's how much. just git out your pencil and figger it up: if it takes four boys five weeks to raise two hundred dollars, what chance have they got to raise three hundred in one week?" then we went home. sunday, just before dinner--i was invited over to mark's for dinner that day--zadok biggs came driving his peddler's wagon into the yard. we could hear him coming for a block, his tin dishes rattling and his whistle going. "marching through georgia" was what he whistled, and you should hear the way he can rip it out. there are trills and runs and wiggles and bird-calls and all sorts of things. i expect he's the best whistler in michigan. he sat on the seat looking down as important as a brand-new poll-parrot and didn't say a word for a minute. then he put his hand on his hip and stuck out his chest and says: "opportunity. have you heard zadok biggs mention that word before? eh? i believe i have mentioned it. i am sure i have pronounced it in your hearing. have i not?" "you have," says i. "zadok biggs has been thinking of you--of all four of you boys engaged in the mercantile enterprise--business is the more usual expression--of running smalley's bazar. i have thought of you often. i have asked myself if i could be of assistance to you. i have looked about me to discover an opportunity to offer you." he drew himself up again and cocked his head as if he'd done something to be mighty proud of. "it was not in vain, says i. i looked--and i saw. i come to-day bringing you an opportunity. what have you to say to that? an opportunity. i bring it to-day." "i say," says mark tidd, "that it comes at a l-l-lucky time." "get down and come in," says mrs. tidd. "dinner's all ready and there's chicken and biscuits in gravy and pumpkin-pie and--" zadok didn't let her finish. "don't repeat the bill of fare, ma'am. it is not necessary. what there will be i do not care. that i am to dine with the parents of marcus aurelius fortunatus tidd is enough. any food prepared by the hand of mrs. tidd is better than a banquet. i will come down. i am coming down. see--i am down." it was a fact. he was down, and went trotting ahead of us into the house. "the opportunity--" he started in; but mrs. tidd cut him off. "you can fuss around with your opportunity after dinner," she says. "i don't want these vittles to get cold. set right down and 'tend to eatin'." so we sat down, and you can bet we did 'tend to eating. i expect mrs. tidd is one of the reasons why mark is so fat. anybody would be that ate the kind of things she cooks every day. why, mrs. tidd can take a cold potato and the hoop off a barrel and a handful of marbles and make a meal out of them that beats anything you can get even at a city hotel! after dinner we went into the parlor and mr. tidd got down his _decline and fall of the roman empire_ and started to read to us, but mrs. tidd stopped _him_. mrs. tidd was boss around there. "now, pa," says she, "you put that book right up. mr. biggs has something he wants to tell the boys." "um!" says mr. tidd, "that's so. i was clean forgetting all about it. i guess the _decline and fall_ will wait a spell. but i would like to read 'em jest this leetle piece here--" he started to open up the book again, but mrs. tidd took it right out of his hand and put it on the table. "go on, mr. biggs," says she. "i'll see you don't get interrupted." "thank you, ma'am. thank you a thousand times. a wonderful woman, boys. a remarkable woman. also a remarkable man. did he not invent a turbine that has made him rich? eh? he did. zadok biggs knows well that he did. did he not name his son marcus aurelius fortunatus? eh? he did. that was an achievement, boys. where is another name like that? where--" "you're interruptin' yourself," says mrs. tidd. "um," says zadok, making a little face. "well, ma'am, i'm on the right track now.... i have an opportunity--an opportunity for anybody in the bazar business. especially anybody who has to compete with a five-and-ten-cent store. the opportunity is in sunfield. where, you may ask, is sunfield? it is a village not thirty miles from here." we knew that as well as he did. "it is a little village, a pretty village. it is a village you will always think of kindly when i tell you of the opportunity that is to be found there." "well, then," says mrs. tidd, "why don't you tell about it?" zadok swallowed hard, but he grinned and went on. "there's a man in sunfield who started up a five-and-ten-cent store. pretty store. good stock. nice man. then what did he do? why, friends, he got sick. his doctor says he must go west. he is going west. what, then, becomes of the store? it is to be sold. the owner is even now looking for a purchaser--for somebody to buy it is the more common phrase." he stopped and beamed around at us. "there," says he, "is the opportunity." right along i'd been hoping. i thought maybe zadok had hit on something that would help us out, but when i heard what it was my heart plopped right down into my boots. what good was the stock of a five-and-ten-cent store to us? we couldn't buy a postage-stamp to send a letter to sunfield, let alone a stock of goods. i looked at mark. he didn't look like he was disappointed. he didn't look happy, either, but he did look thoughtful. right off i saw he thought he could see something in it. "how m-much does he want for it?" mark says. "it can be purchased cheaply. the owner must have cash. he will sacrifice. that stock must be worth close to a couple of thousand dollars. i believe, and my belief is not without foundation, that you can buy it for half of that." "hum!" says mark. "hum!... complete stock?" "as fine a stock as you'd wish to see." "we'll go over to s-see it to-morrow, plunk," says mark. i shrugged my shoulders. "what's the use?" says i. "we can't buy it, and if we could, what would we do with it?" "i dun'no'," says he. "maybe we could figger on s-some way of buyin' it. i've seen sicker horses 'n that g-git well." "but not on the kind of medicine we got to give 'em," says i. "anyhow," says mark, "we'll go over t-to-morrow. you don't need to, though, plunk, if you don't think it's worth while. but i'm goin'. i'm goin' to see that stock. i'm goin' to have a look at zadok biggs's opportunity." "i knew it," said zadok. "i knew marcus aurelius would not disappoint me. i knew he would see the possibilities of this opportunity. i do not blame you, plunk smalley, for failing to see them. it was not to be expected. there is only one marcus tidd. only one." "yes," says i, "and that one has bit off a leetle more'n he can chaw comfortable this time." mark didn't even look at me. he was pinching his cheek and squinting up his eyes like he does when his mind is about as busy as it can be. pretty soon he looked up at zadok. "say," says he, "can you tell me, zadok, what an option is, and how it works?" well, sir, zadok jumped right up and danced. "i knew it," says he. "i knew marcus tidd would see the opportunity. i knew he would never miss it. what is an option? that's what he asks. you heard him. now listen and zadok biggs will explain. he will make an option so clear to you that--that even plunk smalley will be able to make one with his eyes shut." "well," says mrs. tidd, "what _is_ an option?" "the man who wrote the dictionary," zadok explained, "says an option is a right to make a deal or not to make it before a certain time. not very clear, is it? i will enlighten you--make it plain to you is the customary way of saying it. suppose i want to buy a cow from mr. tidd. i want that cow, and i don't want anybody else to get it before i do. but, alas! i haven't enough money to pay what mr. tidd asks. what do i do? i take an option. i go to mr. tidd and say, 'mr. tidd, i will give you a dollar if you will agree not to sell that cow to anybody else before next tuesday, and if you will agree to sell it to me any time before tuesday for forty-one dollars.'" "that's too much for a cow," says mrs. tidd. "this is an imaginary cow," says zadok. then he grinned all over. "that kind is more expensive, ma'am, because they don't eat up any fodder.... well, that's an option. it's where somebody else agrees to sell you something on or before a certain day, and not to sell it to anybody else in the mean time. understand?" he said that to me, because, _i_ expect, he thought if i understood it it must be clear to everybody else. "but," says i, "suppose you pay a dollar for the right to buy mr. tidd's cow on tuesday, and then when tuesday comes you haven't any money?" "why, then, plunk, mr. tidd can sell his cow to anybody else he wants to." "but don't it cost me anything?" "nothing but the dollar you paid him to wait till tuesday for you." "huh," says i, "i understand options, all right, but for the life of me i can't see what good they're going to do us." i looked over at mark tidd, expecting him to explain, but i guess he was a little provoked at me because i didn't think much of the whole scheme, whatever it was, and so he shut his mouth tight like the lid of a trunk and wouldn't say a word. "we'd better get an early start," says he, "and t-take no chances." "yes, indeed," says zadok. "are you going to c-come, plunk?" mark asked. "sure," says i, "if i can be of any help." "well," says he, grinning a more cheerful grin than i'd seen on his face for weeks, "you can't do any harm, anyhow." chapter xvi on my way home from mark tidd's house--where i left mark and zadok biggs eating away at a big dishpanful of popcorn and about a peck of apples--i walked down-town and past the store just to see that everything was all right. it was, so i passed on by and crossed over to take a look at the five-and-ten-cent store. just as i got to the door out came that clerk of jehoshaphat p. skip's. you should have seen him! dressed up? well, i should say he was! and there was _perfumery_ on him. now, honest, what do you think of a full-grown man that'll douse himself with smelly stuff? he looked like he'd just stepped out of a picture in a magazine advertising some sort of a collar or patent necktie or something. "how'dy do?" says he. "how's the contest comin' along?" "good," says i. "it's anybody's race yet." "d'you figger i got any chance?" "well," says i, looking him over careful, "if everybody in wicksville was to get a look at you now i don't see how anybody else would have a chance." "'most everybody's seen me," says he, smirking like a sick puppy. "i went to the methodist church this mornin', and to the young folks' meetin' at the congregational church this afternoon, and i'm goin' to the baptis' church right now. i calc'lated i'd stir around consid'able so folks'd have a chance to judge me, so to speak." "they'll see you, all right," says i, "unless they've all got cataracts in their eyes. the way you look right now, mister, it 'u'd be pretty hard to miss you." "think so?" says he, grinning again as pleased as could be. "how's jehoshaphat?" says i. "kind of crusty," says he. "he's always a-pickin' at me. i'm always glad when he goes off somewheres for a day. then i git a minnit or so to myself. he's a-goin' off to-morrow," says he. "where?" says i, not out of curiosity, but just to say something. "sunfield," says he. "it's a leetle town nigh to twenty-five miles over." "what ever's he goin' to sunfield for?" says i, beginning to get interested. "i don't really know exact, but from things he's said i guess he's calc'latin' on startin' up another five-and-ten-cent store there. there's a feller that wants to sell out, as near as i kin git the facts, and mr. skip is hankerin' to buy." well, sir, what do you think of that? it looked like we were bound to run up against this skip man wherever we went and whatever we did. now he was trying to buy the same stock of goods mark tidd had his heart set on buying. i couldn't see what mark wanted of that stock, for we had all we could look after, and, anyhow, we didn't have any thousand dollars to spend for it. it looked like a crazy notion to me, but just the minute i heard skip was after it i felt different about it. i wanted to get there first. i was going to help mark tidd all i could. it didn't matter what we did with that store when we got it, i was for getting it so skip couldn't. maybe that was a mean way to feel--but skip was the kind of man that makes you feel mean. i got rid of mr. perfume-smelling clerk as soon as i could and hurried up to mark tidd's. he and zadok were still at the popcorn. i calculate that between them they'd eaten more of it than any two folks ever ate before in one afternoon. i didn't wait to knock, but went busting right in. "skip's after it," says i. "after what?" says mark. "the sunfield five-and-ten-cent store," says i. "oh!" says mark, and he grinned at zadok. "d-don't get excited, plunk." "excited," says i. "we got to beat him, hain't we?" "yes," says zadok, "you must beat him. you must arrive first on the scene." "you act like you knew skip was goin'," says i. i felt a little sore because they didn't seem to think my news was important. "we didn't know," says mark, "b-but we hoped." "hoped?" says i. "yes," says mark. "we was hankerin' to have j-jehoshaphat start for sunfield." "but how come he to hear of it?" zadok stuck out his chest and looked important. "zadok biggs," says he. "it was zadok biggs that did it. zadok biggs told the man skip about it." you could have knocked me over with a feather. what in the world had zadok told skip for? i could see it was some sort of scheme mark tidd and he had cooked up, but it looked funny to me. they didn't offer to explain, though, so i says: "do we git an early start?" "yes," says mark. "five o'clock." "but we weren't going to start till six." "didn't know for sure jehoshaphat was goin' then," says he. "then my finding it out did amount to somethin'?" says i. "you bet it did, plunk," says he, and he got up and banged me on the back. "you can just b-b-bet it did." well, i felt some better after that, and went off, leaving mark and zadok to talk about their old plan that they were so close-mouthed about. i shouldn't have been put out, though, for i found out afterward that mark hadn't told me because it would be such a big disappointment to me if it didn't come out right. i might have known there was a good reason. mark tidd was the sort of fellow who always thinks about other folks' feelings. there wasn't any train that would take us from wicksville to sunfield, so there was nothing to do but drive. mark brought along his father's horse and buggy. since mr. tidd got rich he kept a horse. he could have afforded half a dozen automobiles if he'd wanted to, but he didn't have them. it wasn't because he was stingy, for he didn't care anything in particular about money. it was just because he was such a simple-minded, dreamy sort of man. and mrs. tidd was that sensible there wasn't anybody like her. they lived in the same house and lived in the same way they had lived when they were poor. it seemed like all their money hadn't made a cent's worth of difference in them. well, mark drove up to my house just before five o'clock, and we started out. binney and tallow were around to see us off, and mark told them to keep watch and telephone to the hotel in wilkinstown as soon as skip started and leave a message for us. wilkinstown was nine miles over toward sunfield. then we started off. you'd never believe it, but just as we were getting into wilkinstown the horse went lame. we got out and looked him over, but we didn't know enough about horses to tell what the matter was, so we drove on slow and cautious to the livery barn. the man there took a look at the horse and mentioned some kind of a thing that gets the matter with a horse's foot and said the horse mustn't be driven again for at least a week. not for a week! that was a pretty kettle of fish. "h'm!" says i to mark. "looks like we walk back." "back!" says mark. "if we do any walkin' it'll be ahead." "sixteen miles to sunfield," says i. mark turned around to the liveryman. "got a good horse to rent us?" "nary horse," says the man. "every rig i got's engaged. travelin' men rented 'em last night." "anybody else r-rent horses here?" "nobody," says the man. "we g-got to git to sunfield," says mark. "how'll we manage it?" "walk," says the man. "hain't there an automobile?" says i. "nary a soul in this burg owns one of them things," says he. "nine miles to wicksville--sixteen miles to sunfield," says i to myself. "come on up to the hotel," says mark. "let's see if the f-fellers have telephoned." they had telephoned. the hotel man gave us the message. "skip left at seven-thirty in an auto," it says. there you are! skip had left in a machine--that could get to sunfield three times as fast as a horse. we were in wilkinstown without even a horse. "i calc'late," says i, "that here's where jehoshaphat gits to buy a five-and-ten-cent store." mark's little eyes were sparkling and his lips were pressed tight and his jaw was set. "we're a-goin' to git to sunfield," says he, "and we're a-goin' to git there f-f-first." my, how he stuttered it! "sure," says i. "i forgot all about my new airoplane. you kin just as well use it as not." he didn't say anything back, but in a minute he asked me, "know anything about automobiles, plunk?" "they're contraptions," says i, "with four wheels--one at each corner--and they've got an engine in 'em, and a thing to steer 'em by. sure i know about 'em." he started talkin' to himself. "it's fair," says he. "it's fair to d-do it. he's done things to us--and we _got_ to win out. it won't do any d-damage. it won't h-hurt anybody.... it's f-fair, and i'm goin' to do it." i could see he was arguing out something or other. some scheme he had was a little doubtful to him. now there's one thing about mark tidd, no matter how much he wants to win, or what it would mean for him to lose, he plays fair. he wouldn't use a scheme that wasn't honest and aboveboard, no matter how certain it was to win. that's the kind of a fellow he was. "plunk," says he, "we've got to stop that auto." "all right," says i, "let's tie a rope across the road." he knew i was joking and grinned a little. "no," says he, "we got to stop it so jehoshaphat won't know he's been stopped on purpose." but before we had a chance to do anything we heard an auto coming up the road. i got up and looked. it was skip and a fellow i didn't know in a little runabout. "it's him," says i to mark. mark didn't say anything, but his little eyes were sending off sparks and his face looked sort of set. it looked as though we'd never get a chance at the sunfield store. in another minute she went whizzing by. i looked at mark and he looked at me. somehow it didn't seem possible he'd gone right by and left us there. but then came a surprise. the car went right along to the hotel, and then it stopped. skip went inside for something, and mark and i sneaked down and hid behind a shed. we heard skip telephoning inside. he came out in about five minutes. just as he was getting into the car he looked down and scowled and said something under his breath. "you've got a flat tire, clancy," says he, and then he up and expressed his opinion of flat tires in words and syllables and sentences. i gathered he didn't think much of them. clancy got out and looked. "flat tire," says he. "three flat tires, mister. it's a regular epidemic," says he. "well," says skip, "you might as well git at fixin' 'em. we can't spend all day on the road." at that he turned around and went into the hotel again, and didn't come out till clancy had the tires all fixed up and ready to go. but clancy didn't hurry any. first he took off his coat and then he wiped his face, for the dust had been flying, and then he lifted the hood of the car and peeked inside. there wasn't any reason for it in particular, i guess, but automobile men seem to like to look at their engines whenever they get a chance. "i wonder," says he to himself, "if i can git some oil in this metropolis." he started out to find if he could, and left the car standing. "there's your chance," stuttered mark. "good-by," says i, waving my hand. "tell the folks i went agin the enemy as brave as a lion." then i went for the car. it was no trick at all to reach inside for a wire that would put the ignition out of business. i unscrewed it at both ends. unscrewing one end would have stopped the machine, but there would have been a wire dangling, and any idiot would know that was what the matter was. but i took the wire clean out. it would take a pretty good repair-man to trace the trouble, especially when there wasn't any way for a wire to get out of the car, and when the car had been running along as nicely as possible. i stuck the wire in my pocket and slid back where mark was. "i guess," says i, "that mr. skip'll stay put for a while, anyhow." "c-come on, then," says he. "we'll light out for sunfield." "sixteen miles," says i. "we'll git to ride part of it, anyhow," says he. "but," says i, "i want to stay and watch jehoshaphat when that car won't start. i want to see that man clancy crank. it'll be a reg'lar three-ring circus with a menagerie tent and a side-show." he sort of hesitated a minute, for mark enjoyed a joke as well as anybody else, but he shook his head and says: "nope, plunk, we got to hoof it for sunfield. we've g-got to git there first. we've _got_ to, plunk." "all right," says i. "i don't see any sense in it, but here we go." we started off through the fields, keeping out of the road so nobody would see us. there wasn't much to the village but the general store and the hotel and a couple of houses, so we were in the country again in a couple of minutes. we crossed a stubbled field and then started to cut through an orchard to the road. my! but that was a fine orchard! the trees were trimmed and the ground was not all grown up to grass the way most orchards are, but it was plowed and cultivated the way the government expert who lectured in wicksville said it ought to be. and apples! you never saw such spies as loaded half of the trees! "um-m-m!" says i. "leave 'em be," says mark. "most farmers d-don't mind if you take an apple to eat, but a lot of 'em are crusty as anything." so i took it out in looking, and looking at a big red apple doesn't help the appetite much. we were about half-way across the orchard when i felt as if a house had fallen on my shoulder. something dropped and jerked me back off my feet. i just caught a glimpse of mark out of the corner of my eye--and he was getting considerable of a jerk, too. then a great big booming voice says: "i got ye, consarn ye! come a-sneakin' through a man's orchard, will ye? i'll show ye. stealin' a man's apples, eh? oh, he! maybe yes and maybe no. didn't calc'late hamilcar janes was a-layin' for you behind a tree, eh? oh, he!" he didn't sound mad exactly, just sort of tickled with himself for being smart enough to catch us. "boys have been a-stealin' and a-stealin' my apples. thought i wasn't goin' to do nothin', too. didn't think hamilcar janes had git-up-and-git enough to catch 'em. hasn't, eh? oh, he! just look at what hamilcar janes has up and done. he's catched two--a fat one and a lean one--and into the smoke-house they go. oh, he!" he might have made a song of it if he'd been of a mind to. we tried to talk to him, but he wouldn't listen to a word. he just grinned and bragged about how he'd caught us, and marched us along by the collars. i tried to squirm loose, but i might as well have tried to jump over the moon like the old cow in the poem. that hamilcar janes came close to being the biggest man i ever saw. and his hands! those hands of his were as big as blankets. "into the smoke-house you go," says he. "i'll show ye. won't i show ye? well, i should guess!" and he did that very thing. he dragged us along and kicked open the door to his smoke-house and pushed us in. then he shut the door and we could hear him barring it. "there," says he. "try that a spell. apples, eh? oh, he!" then we heard him walking off. i didn't feel much like talking, and neither did mark, but i couldn't help saying: "jehoshaphat'll have to be delayed consid'able if he don't git to sunfield ahead of us." mark nodded doleful-like. "seems like luck was d-dead against us," says he. "but," he says, "skip hain't got there yet--and it's early in the mornin'." chapter xvii we started right in to nose around, but that smoke-house was pretty nearly air-tight. dark! mister, but it was dark! and it was full of cobwebs and smell and dirt. there was just as much chance of getting out of there till mr. hamilcar janes let us out as there would be of sawing a bar of steel with a chunk of cheese. there wasn't a thing to do but sit down and be as patient as we could--which wasn't very patient, when you come to consider all the circumstances. one thing that made me mad was that i hadn't eaten some of hamilcar's apples. we couldn't have been shut up a bit more if we'd eaten a bushel. time passes pretty slow when you're sitting in the dark. i don't know how long it was before we heard a sound outside, but it seemed like it must be the next week tuesday. then we heard somebody holler from the road: "hey, there, are you mr. janes?" "that's me," roared back the man who had captured us. "hamilcar janes." "down to the hotel," says the voice, "they told me you had a horse you might rent for the day." i nudged mark and he nudged me all at once. "skip!" we both said. that's who it was--jehoshaphat p. had got tired of trying to start up that automobile, and here he was trying to hire a horse. luck was against us hard. in a minute hamilcar janes spoke up and says: "i've got a hoss, mister, and i calc'late i've rented her some. but that there hoss, mister, is a sort of friend of mine. pertty good friend, too. i hain't rentin' her to every tom, dick, and harry that comes along with feet that's too lazy to carry 'em. kin you drive a hoss, mister, like a hoss ought to be drove?" "i'll treat your animal all right," says skip. "where'd you want to drive her?" "sunfield," says skip. "sixteen mile, nearly," says hamilcar. "um! ho, hum! give her a good rest there, mister? see she gits water and feed? eh?" "of course," says skip. "come over here closer," says hamilcar. "i want to git a better look at you. hain't goin' to trust that hoss to nobody i don't like the looks of." there was a little while when nobody said anything and i judged skip was coming closer. then hamilcar says: "you hain't much for looks, mister, and that's a fact. i dun'no's i'd care to send my hoss off under your care." "how does that ten-dollar bill look?" says skip. "good-lookin' bill," says hamilcar. "dun'no's i ever seen a nicer-lookin' bill--but that hain't got nothin' to do with it. if i didn't calc'late my hoss'd git used well you couldn't hire her, mister, not if you was a-goin' to paper my house with ten-dollar bills. no, sir. it's like i said. that hoss and me is friends." "plunk," says mark to me, "i hain't very scared of mr. janes." "no?" says i. "why?" "hear what he s-says about his horse?" "yes," says i. "well," says he, "that kind of a man hain't very dangerous to boys.... he's all right, mr. janes is, whether he's l-locked us up or not." "i hope so," says i, "but if he keeps us here and then rents his horse to skip he might as well be the meanest slinkin' scalawag in the state. it'll do us as much harm." "i dun'no'," says mark, and then shut up tight to listen. hamilcar was talking again. "come to look you over, mister, i dun'no's you look _bad_. 'tain't that, i calc'late. but, mister, you're so mortal homely it raises doubts in a feller's mind. maybe, mister, you're as good as george washington, but you don't look it." "i can't help what i look like," says skip, as mad as a weasel. "what's that got to do with it? "easy, mister, easy," says hamilcar. "you're wantin' to rent a hoss--not me urgin' you to take her. you won't git no place by r'ilin' yourself all up. calm down, mister, calm down." skip said something i couldn't hear. "well, mister," says hamilcar, "i'll take you back and show you to the hoss. if she don't make no objection, i guess maybe you can take her. but if she don't like you, mister, you couldn't have her if you was to offer me seven dollars a mile and a new buggy throwed in. come on." they started to come back our way. i could hear them coming closer and closer. right in front of our door they stopped, and hamilcar says: "what d'you calc'late i got in here, mister?" "hams," says jehoshaphat, sharp-like. "no," says hamilcar. "boys." "boys!" "two of 'em. fat one and thin one. caught 'em stealin' apples. grabbed 'em by the collars. shoved 'em in the smoke-house. good idee. teach 'em a lesson. scare 'em some. bet they'll keep out of my orchard after this." "should have given 'em a lickin'," says skip. "uh-uh, mister. never licked a hoss nor a boy. 'tain't good trainin'. mister, i calc'late you hain't got no boy." "no," says skip, "and i hain't hankerin' after one." "there, you see! well, mister, i hain't got no boy, either, nor no wife, nor no folks of any kind. but i'd like a boy. yes, sir, i'd like _two_ of 'em. but i wouldn't lick 'em, mister. there's other ways and better ways.... want to take a look at these fellers?" well, you can believe mark and i pretty near jumped out of our skins. what if hamilcar showed us to skip and skip knew us, which he would, and put two and two together? he'd smell a rat right off--and then the fat would splash over into the fire. we held our breath and waited. "no," says skip, "i hain't any desire to see 'em." "they're bad ones," says hamilcar, but his voice didn't sound like he thought we were so very bad. "you never see a pair of worse ones." "haven't time," says skip. "let's fix up about the horse, because i'm in a hurry to get to sunfield. i've got a big business deal on there." then they passed on by and we couldn't hear them any more, but in about ten minutes we heard carriage-wheels, and so we judged the horse hadn't shown any signs of disliking skip. he'd got his carriage and was off for sunfield while we were here, shut up in a smoke-house, with nothing but our legs even if we could get out. but right away hamilcar janes came to the door and says, ferocious-like: "hello in there!" "mr. janes," says mark, "we want to t-talk to you." "i'll bet you do," says he, and i could hear him chuckle. he came closer and unbarred the door and opened it. "come out," says he, in a voice that would have frightened the stripes off a tiger. we came out as quick as we could, and it was fine to have decent air to breathe again. "there you be," says hamilcar. "a perty pair, eh? hain't you, now? apple-stealers!" "we're not apple-stealers," says mark. "we didn't go into your orchard to steal a-a-apples. we were just walking through." "to be sure," says hamilcar. "just strollin' among the trees. of course you were." "we were tryin' to keep out of sight of that f-feller you just rented your horse to." hamilcar wrinkled up his forehead and frowned. "chasin' you, was he?" "no. he didn't know we were here, and we d-didn't want him to." hamilcar scratched his head. "i dun'no's i ever had any boy tell me just that story. them i've caught before has told me lots of things. some walked in their sleep, and some didn't know they were in an orchard at all, and others was stealin' for a sick grandmother, but i don't call to mind any story just like yours." "if you'll l-listen, mr. janes, i'll tell you about it," says mark. "go ahead, young feller. i hain't got much to do just now. i calc'late it'll be int'restin'." "it will," says mark, and he started in from the beginning and told mr. janes all about the bazar, and about father being hurt, and about skip and the things he'd done to us, and how we'd fought back. he told him we were going to sunfield now to get the best of skip. there wasn't anything he left out. when he was through hamilcar hit his big hands together and says: "so you're mark tidd, eh? ho, hum! know ike bond?" "uncle ike bond?" says i. "well, i should say we do know him." "him and my father was in the war together," says hamilcar. "comes to see me. told me about you. mark tidd, eh? ho, hum! and that scalawag has been tryin' to bust you up in business, eh? i sort of suspected him, he was so blamed homely. but the hoss she never let on, so i harnessed her and let him drive off.... wish i'd 'a' knowed about this before." "so do i," says mark. "now it's too late. skip'll b-b-beat us to sunfield and make the deal and--but what's the use? we're beat." "beat!" says hamilcar. "you bet you hain't beat. not by a long shot. one hoss hain't all hamilcar janes owns. he owns a faster hoss than that one, too. just you wait a jiffy, mark tidd, and we'll be after this skip. we'll make him skip, that's what we'll do. i'll hitch up and we'll take after him, and if he gits to sunfield first you can take a bite out of my leg. there!" we hurried back to the barn with him, and he hitched up a team--as fine-looking a team it was--to a two-seated rig. then he got in the front seat and motioned us up behind. "i'm a-goin' to drive myself. we'll pass that skip in fifteen minutes." "we mustn't pass him," says mark. "he m-m-mustn't see us. we've got to get there first without his knowing we're anywhere around." "all right," says hamilcar; "we'll take the woods road. we can go right around him, and him never be the wiser. giddap, there! giddap! earn your feed now, hosses. dig in, for there's a man tryin' to git the best of two boys. we can't have that. no, siree, bob. not any." "we won't get there much ahead of him," says i. "maybe ten minutes," says hamilcar. "maybe fifteen." "do you know mr. hoffer--the m-man that wants to sell his store?" mark asked. "know him? to be sure. it's sunfield we're a-goin' to, mark tidd, and if there's a man, woman, child, or critter in that town that don't know hamilcar janes, then i hope apples sells for fifty cents a barrel." "we've got to get him away from his store," says mark. "there ain't time to d-dicker with him there. skip'd come bangin' right into the middle of it. and if he was to see plunk and me the whole plate of soup 'u'd be spilled." "um!" says hamilcar. "calc'late we kin manage it. leave it to hamilcar janes. he's your man." then he started talking to himself. "try to bust up a couple of boys, would he? skip! i'll make him skip. if he's mistreated that hoss of mine he'll skip and he'll jump--and, b'jing! he'll holler, too." it was a fine drive to sunfield. the air was just a bit chilly, but it was a bright day and the woods were getting all colored up. it made me want to go nutting. i said so to mark. "if th-this deal goes through," says he, "you and i will go n-nutting wednesday. we'll deserve a day off." we drove along at a good clip and got to sunfield before noon. hamilcar janes drove us right to mr. hoffer's five-and-ten-cent store and drew up his horses. i looked around where he said the other road came into town, and there, a quarter of a mile off, was a buggy coming along. there was one man in it, but it was too far off for me to see if it was skip. hamilcar took a look and banged his knee with his big fist. "it's him," says he. "at any rate, it's my hoss. we'd better git a hustle on." we jumped out of the carriage and went pell-mell into the store. there was a young woman and a middle-aged man there. he was mr. hoffer, and he was german, and he looked pretty tired and sick. "hoffer," says hamilcar, "you're a-goin' for a drive." "_nein_," says hoffer. "here must i stop. business is business." "you need a rest, hoffer. you're a-lookin' peeked. and you're a-goin' for a drive. hamilcar janes says you're a-goin', and he can't afford to tell a lie. git your hat, hoffer." mr. hoffer smiled, feeble-like, but shook his head. "where's his hat?" says hamilcar to the young woman. she pointed to it, and hamilcar took it and tossed it to mark. then he walked right over to hoffer and picked him up in his arms and carried him out of the store and set him in the back seat of the carriage. "there," says he. "now set there and enjoy yourself." for a minute mr. hoffer looked a little upset and flustered and didn't appear to know what to make of it. but then he smiled, and it was a gentle, grateful kind of a smile that made me feel choky in the throat. "hamilcar," says he, "you are one goot friend to me. how i haff longed for to ride by the woods! _ach_, but it wass impossible. always must i sit in mein store and hope somebody comes to buy.... but you steal me, hamilcar, und it iss that i cannot help myself, so i am glad. we will drive, hamilcar, und for the day i will be happy." hamilcar didn't lose a minute. he started us up the street at a gallop. we went around the next corner on three wheels--just as skip and his horse slackened up at the store. then for a couple of minutes i saw some driving. whee! but that was a team, and mr. janes was a driver! we went, and the cool air slashed past our cheeks and made water come into our eyes. i looked back at mr. hoffer--and choked again. he was so happy about it all that--well, that a fellow couldn't look at him without wanting to sort of pat him on the back and tell him it was all right and that kind of thing. pretty soon hamilcar slowed down. "i calc'late we've give him the slip," says he. "now, mark tidd, you can git to business. hoffer, this here is mark tidd, and this other kid is plunk smalley. you kin depend on 'em. i know 'em. what they say you kin put your faith in." now that was a pretty fine thing for him to say, and it made me feel considerable proud. it made mark feel so, too. you could see him sort of stiffen up and his eyes gleam. "mr. hoffer," says mark, "we want to buy your stock." "veil, she iss for sale. cheap, also. it is that i must go away for mein health." "we have got to hurry. there isn't t-time to take an inventory, but we have an idea what you have on hand. a friend looked into it for us." he reached into his pocket. "here's twenty-five dollars, mr. hoffer, to p-pay for an option on your stock till thursday. we'll offer you eight hundred dollars." "option, eh? _ja_, i understand option. till thursday. twenty-fife dollar. _ja._ but eight hundred dollar! _nein._ it iss too little." "how much d-do you ask?" "t'irteen hundred," says mr. hoffer. mark shook his head, but didn't say a word. neither did mr. hoffer, and we drove a mile without anybody's speaking. then mr. hoffer said: "twelluf hundred." mark shook his head, and we all kept still for another mile. then mark says: "eight h-hundred and fifty." mr. hoffer shook his head. we were almost through the big woods when mr. hoffer spoke up and says: "eleven hundred and fifty." "eight hundred and s-s-seventy-five," says mark. after that nobody said a word for twenty minutes; then mr. hoffer says: "eleven hundred, efen money." mark shook his head. "mr. hoffer," says he, "i'll make one more offer and that's my last. you'll have to t-t-take it or leave it. nine hundred d-d-dollars. not a cent more. n-not a cent." mr. hoffer blinked and peered at mark with a sort of twinkle in his blue eyes. "young man," says he, "you haff a head for business. if it iss that you can sell as well as you can buy, den you are one business man. for surely.... vell, den, i take your offer. nine hundred it iss, und a option till thursday. ve go py the lawyer for that option, eh?" mark shook his head. "no," says he, "i have it ready." and would you believe me, but he pulled out of his pocket a paper all drawn up by our own lawyer in typewriting. it had even the right amount set down--nine hundred dollars! mr. hoffer read it and chuckled. "hamilcar," says he, "did you seen this? ho! for nine hundred dollars! so sure wass he that he has the paper drawn. ho! nefer in mein life haff i such a boy seen. for nine hundred dollars. ho! ... veil, mark tidd, i sign this. _ja_, i sign him for you." hamilcar stopped the horses so the buggy wouldn't jar, and mark pulled out a fountain pen. he was ready for everything. mr. hoffer grinned some more and signed his name on a line at the bottom of the option, and hamilcar signed as a witness. then mark sighed like he had something pretty heavy lifted off his mind. "plunk," says he, "chances are good. we're not out of the woods yet, b-but we can almost see the other side.... mr. skip, you should 'a' played fair.... now drive us to the edge of town, mr. janes, and let us out where skip can't see us. he'll be waiting at the store for mr. hoffer." chapter xviii hamilcar drew up just at the outskirts of sunfield and we got out. "mr. hoffer," says mark tidd, "when you g-get back to your store there'll be a m-man there by the name of jehoshaphat p. skip, who'll want to buy your stock." "so?" says mr. hoffer. "yes," says mark. "we've bought it ourselves just to b-beat him, and i'll tell you why." then he set to and told mr. hoffer all about it just like he had told hamilcar janes. when he was through mr. hoffer shook his head in that mild way of his and says: "that wass not goot. he iss not a fair man. me, i will haff no dealing with him whatever. so." "m-maybe you'll help us a little?" says mark. "i vill help. _ja_, i will do what i can." "well, then, just tell him nothing about this option. tell him you have nothing to d-do with the sale, though, and he'll have to see-who's your best lawyer here?" "a young man, also a goot man, i think. he iss from college only a leetle while. his name it is hamilton." "well, you tell skip hamilton is handling the deal and to go to him. d-don't tell him another word." "_ja_, so i will do. _ja_.... goot-by, mein young friend. to see you again i shall hope. goot-by." "good-by, mr. hoffer, and we h-hope you get well and everything comes out fine." "i will do mein best. but, mark tidd, if t'ings go not as i like to haff them, i shall not cry. no, i shall be patient, and not such a coward as i like not to be." we shook hands all around and hamilcar and mr. hoffer drove off. as soon as they were away mark and i lit out for mr. hamilton's law-office. we hadn't had any dinner, but mark didn't seem to mind, and i wasn't going to be the first to speak about it, you can bet. if he could stand it to starve to death, i guess i could, too. we found mr. hamilton's office in a little one-story wooden building on main street. he was there, but he seemed a little surprised to see us. "how d'you do?" says he. "were you looking for a doctor or a lawyer." "l-l-lawyer," says mark. mr. hamilton sighed with relief. "i was sure you'd made a mistake. didn't think you could possibly be looking for me. but come right in. shall i bring out my trained law-book for you? or would you rather watch a baseball game between the compiled statutes and the court rules?" he laughed, pleasant-like. i took to him right away and so did mark. he was middling big, and he looked like he was a lot of fun. "we want a l-l-lawyer," says mark. "um!... criminal case, i expect. you're the miscreants that threw a bomb at the czar of russia?" "no," says mark. "but we want to th-th-throw a bomb at jehoshaphat p. skip." "say that again," says mr. hamilton. "is it a name or something to eat from sweden?" "name," says mark; "and let's get down to b-business. i'll tell you what we want and you can say whether you want to d-do it or not." "let her go," says hamilton, and we all sat down. mark went over all the things that had happened to us, and then for the first time i got an idea what the scheme was that brought us to sunfield. "now," says mark, when he'd brought things up to date, "we've got this option on mr. hoffer's stock. skip wants to b-buy the stock. that stock's worth twice what we paid for it, and skip knows what it's worth. what we want you to do is this: you dicker with him. the price we want is twelve hundred dollars, not a cent more, and not a cent less.... that is--maybe we'd b-better make him pay your fee. you charge him, however, much more than the three hundred dollars' profit you ought to be paid. don't let on you're our _lawyer_. you don't need to mention any names. just talk about clients, eh? how'll that do? he'll buy. no d-d-danger he won't, that i can see. make him pay cash down for the option, and g-git the cash before you turn it over. he'll have it with him." "h'm!" says mr. hamilton. "who thought up this scheme?" "i did," says mark. "well," says mr. hamilton, "i hope you and i stay friends, that's all _i've_ got to say about it. do you have ideas like this often?" "he has 'em in his sleep," says i. "how about it?" says mark. "will you do what we want you to?" "you bet," says mr. hamilton. "we want to be around s-s-somewheres," says mark, "where we can hear it. where can we hide?" "smalley here might get in the closet," says hamilton, with a grin, "but you weren't made to fit closets, tidd. you'll have to have a room. suppose we try the woodshed there--and leave the door open. i guess you'll be able to hear, all right." "we'll go back there n-now," says mark. "it wouldn't do for jehoshaphat p. to catch a glimpse of us." so back we went. we didn't have to sit around long, either, for along came mr. skip, looking as cross as all-git-out. he came stamping in and scowled at mr. hamilton. "are you the feller that's lookin' after this sale for hoffer?" says he. "yes," says mr. hamilton. "he hain't got much of a stock," says skip, "and what he's got don't amount to much." "well," says mr. hamilton, "in that case i wouldn't bother about it if i were you." "oh," says skip, "i figgered if i could pick it up at a bargain--junk prices--i could git some profit out of it. use it for special sales and sich in my store over to wicksville." "you know pretty well what's in the stock, don't you?" "trust jehoshaphat p. skip for that. he hain't buyin' no pig in a bag. i hain't been hangin' around there three hours for nothin'." "do you want to make me an offer? is that why you are here?" "i calc'late i wanted to talk price some. hoffer's got to sell. he ought to be willin' to let it go cheap for ready cash." "he is willing to sell cheap. what'll you offer?" "five hundred dollars," says skip, and clamped his thin lips together like he was afraid a breath would git out for nothing. "good afternoon," says mr. hamilton, getting on to his feet. "i'm pretty busy. when you get ready to talk business, come around again." skip looked sort of startled, but he didn't get up. "i might raise that offer a mite," says he. "yes," says mr. hamilton, "you'll raise it a whole swarm of mites. there's one price on that stock and one price only. twelve hundred and twenty-five dollars is the price, and you can take it or leave it. i haven't any time to dicker. just think that over. it's so cheap i'm ashamed to handle the deal. now think it over. it's yes or no to that price. no use talking anything else." "twelve hundred and twenty-five dollars!" says skip. he sat there and twiddled his fingers and waggled his nose and worked his adam's apple up and down so i nearly busted right out laughing. he didn't say a word for a quarter of an hour, and mr. hamilton pretended he wasn't there at all. hamilton worked away at his desk and didn't so much as look at skip once. it was nearly four o'clock when skip caved in. "sure that's the best price?" says he. "certain." "then," says skip, hesitating a bit like it hurt him to say the words--"then i'll--i'll take it. what terms?" "three hundred and twenty-five dollars _now_, and the balance thursday," says hamilton. "i'll deliver a legal option to you now and a bill of sale when you pay down the balance." skip pulled a wallet out of his pocket and counted out the money--three hundred and twenty-five dollars. my! but it looked like a lot. he put it on the desk. then mr. hamilton pushed over our option. the option was in my name, james smalley, because we knew skip never would recognize it. father's name is mortimer smalley, so skip wouldn't think of any connection. he didn't suspect a thing. that was mark tidd's idea, too. mr. hamilton had made me sign the option over, so it was all ready to deliver to skip. he took it and mr. hamilton took the money. "you've got a good deal," says mr. hamilton. "not so good as i calc'lated on gittin'," says skip, sour as vinegar. "but i guess i won't lose no money on it." he got up to go out. "good afternoon," says mr. hamilton as pleasant as pie. "huh!" grunts skip. "g-by, mister." and out he went. i almost jumped out of my skin. three hundred dollars! it was ours, and we'd made it as honest as could be. we had to have three hundred dollars, and there was old mark tidd with a way to do it. i just looked at him and couldn't say a word. he was looking at me out of the corner of his eye to see how i took it, and he was looking pretty well satisfied with himself, too. i guess it was plain for him to see what a great man i thought he was, for he grinned as pleased as could be. "guess that fixes skip and his chattel m-m-mortgage," says he. "yes," says i, "and it fixes other things. it fixes it so the smalley family has something to live on when my dad comes out of the hospital, and it fixes it so my mother will think you're the greatest man that ever lived. i hain't goin' to say thank you, mark, not me. i couldn't do it right; but you wait till i tell mother. she'll know what to say. don't forget that a minute. she'll know...." i quit talking right there because i was afraid i'd choke up and have to quit and act foolish. we went into the office and mr. hamilton handed us the money. he kept shaking his head all the time and looking at mark. "tidd," says he, "if i ever get a big case, one that takes more brains than most men have got to win it, i'm going to send over to wicksville for you, i am. will you come and help me out?" mark knew he was fooling, but all the same it was pretty complimentary fooling. "glad to come," says he, "any time." "what are you going to do now?" asked mr. hamilton. "find hamilcar janes," says mark, "and thank him, and then see how we can get back home." "any hurry?" "l-l-like to get there to-night if we can." "tell you what i'll do," says mr. hamilton. "you take supper with me, and i'll drive you over in father's automobile to-night. how about that?" "fine," says i. i began to chuckle. it was the first good, satisfying laugh i had laughed in weeks. "i wonder," says i, "if skip's man clancy has found out why his car wouldn't run." "i hope not," says mark, and his face set with that sort of a stern look he got every time he thought about skip. "i hope skip has to walk from janes's farm every inch of the w-w-way home." that's just what i hoped myself. chapter xix i don't know how jehoshaphat p. got back to wicksville, but he did get back, because i saw him next noon--passed him so our elbows touched. i couldn't help looking right in his eye and grinning. i expect it was pretty impudent, but--well, it was a special case. if he'd known what i was grinning about he'd probably have taken me apart and put me together wrong--but he didn't know. all he knew was that he had a chattel mortgage on the bazar that was due friday, and that there wasn't any chance for us to pay it. one of the worst things a man can do is to know facts that aren't so. skip scowled at me and says, "you won't have much grinnin' to do after friday, young feller." "um!" says i. "you can't tell about grins. they grow promiscuous like canada thistles. never can tell where one'll spring up." "what you goin' to do about that chattel mortgage? goin' to turn over the stock without a fuss, or have i got to fetch in the constables and dep'ty-sheriffs and court officers? eh?" "well," says i, "if we're goin' to git busted up we might as well have all the trimmin's. can't you call out the militia, too?" "who's boss of your store, anyhow? you or that fat boy?" "i calc'late," says i, "that mark tidd's in command." "guess i'll see him, then. maybe i can git him to let go peaceable." "he'll be glad to see you," says i, with another grin. jehoshaphat turned around and made for the bazar. mark was waiting on a couple of customers and there were three other folks in the store. that was unusual, but i says to skip: "things is perty dull with us. only five customers in the store." he grunted, but didn't say a word. mark looked up and saw him, but his expression never changed. "mr. skip wants to see you when you get time," says i. he nodded, and in a minute he came over. the woman he'd been waiting on didn't go out, but hung around to listen, i guess. folks in wicksville was right on hand when curiosity was being handed out. "what can i d-do for you?" says mark to jehoshaphat. "chattel mortgage 's due friday. what you goin' to do about it?" mark got on the dolefulest, mournfulest look i ever saw. "mr. skip," says he, good and loud, so everybody could hear him, "can't you give us a l-little time?" "not a day," says skip, snapping his jaws shut. "i know we owe the money," says mark, "but we didn't git it of you. you went out of your way to buy up that chattel mortgage. you did it just so as to bust up this b-b-business." he didn't say it mean, but just like he was almost ready to cry. skip's eyes was blinking with satisfaction. "we can p-pay you part of it," says mark. "won't you give us time on the rest?" "not a minute," says skip. "but, mr. skip, think about mr. smalley. he's hurt and in the hospital. think about mrs. smalley. this store is all they've got. nobody knows what'll h-happen to 'em if you don't give us time." he was saying this loud so everybody in the store could hear. skip looked around uneasy and says: "there hain't no use hollerin'. this is private talk." "maybe it is," says mark, but he didn't lower his voice. "but what're you g-goin' to do? like as not the smalleys would have to go to the p-poor-farm or somethin'. you'll git your money, mr. skip, if you'll let us have a little time." "not a minute," says skip, beginning to get mad. "then," says mark, "you want to hurt mr. smalley in the hospital, and fix it so his wife hasn't got a cent to buy a meal? do you want to do that, mr. skip?" "i hain't got nothin' to do with that. the money's due me and i need it. if you hain't got it to pay i'm goin' to take the stock." "you won't take part and wait f-for the rest?" "no," says skip. "all right, then," says mark. "friday's the day, i expect. it's perty hard on the smalleys, though." well, sir, you should have seen the customers that were hanging around with their mouths open. they were eying skip like they thought he was the meanest man alive, and i could hear them saying things to each other under their breath. skip was getting some fine advertising. "what i want to know," says skip, "is, will you turn over the stock without a lot of officers and papers?" "i don't b-believe we can," says mark. "if you take this stock you got to take it the way the law says.... now good-by, mr. skip. this store is ours till friday, and if you so much as step a foot in it again till you c-come with the sheriff somethin' will happen to you that'll make you wish you'd fallen down a well." at that he turned his back and went behind the counter. skip sneaked a look at the women and slunk out as fast as he could go. when he was gone you should have heard those five women sail into him. my! the things they said about him! in another hour wicksville would know just what had been said and just what those five women thought about it. mark winked at me solemn. when the folks were gone he says: "p-public opinion, plunk. ever hear of it?" "yes," says i. "i'm s-sickin' it on jehoshaphat. he'll be a popular feller in wicksville. won't he be popular, though!" "what's the idea?" says i. "why didn't you pay him his money and kick him out?" "because," says he, "i want to make folks love him. i want to fix it so f-f-folks will go out of their way to buy from him. do you think this fight's over when the mortgage is paid? no, siree. we have got to get the business of this town and keep it away from skip. when i'm through with jehoshaphat wicksville's goin' to think he's about the meanest man that ever pinched a p-penny." "what next?" says i. "a l-little advertisin'," says he. that afternoon he painted a lot of signs, big and little. some were for the wagon, and binney and tallow were to drive it around town, banging on the drum. others were for our windows and others were to tack up on fences. the one in our window says: jehoshaphat p. skip holds a chattel mortgage on this stock. he bought it just to bust this business. he won't give us time. friday he's going to seize the bazar. everybody come. at two o'clock. come to see jehoshaphat p. skip foreclose his mortgage. that was one sign, others were like it, but every one said something different and something that wasn't calculated to make folks fond of skip. all day wednesday and all day thursday we kept them going, inviting folks to be on hand to see the end of the bazar. "how do you know it'll be at two o'clock?" says i. mark grinned. "i saw the sheriff," says he, "and f-fixed it up." wouldn't that beat you? he'd thought of everything. friday came along just as the calendar said it would, but it seemed to us it took quite a while to do it. when you've got a surprise in your pocket all ready to spring, it always takes the right minute a long time to get there. in the mean time we went along just as if nothing was going to happen, and we didn't let on to a soul what we had in pickle for jehoshaphat. we just kept advertising the foreclosure at two o'clock friday afternoon like it was some sort of bargain sale. it was a novelty, all right. folks don't usually brag about being busted, so folks took quite an interest, and we were certain to have a good crowd on hand. i guess they figured something out of the ordinary would happen. that was on account of mark tidd and his reputation. lots of folks stopped in to tell us how sorry they were and to tell us their opinion of jehoshaphat p. sympathy doesn't cost a cent, so you can always get more of it than you need. but it did show that mark had fixed things so skip wouldn't be the best-loved man in our county, which was something, anyhow. friday morning seemed like it could have held all the seven days of the week. we took lunch in the bazar. at a quarter to two mark had us put a big sign in each window that said: all ready for the foreclosure everybody welcome there was a good crowd there--probably fifty or sixty people--when skip and the officer came in. the officer went over to mark and says: "i've come to take charge of this stock, young feller." "but," says mark, "d-don't you have to give folks a chance to pay up before you seize the store?" "yes," says the officer, "but i understood there wasn't any chance of that." "um!" says mark, and he scrambled up on top of the counter. "folks," says he, as calm and cool as a chunk of ice, "here's jehoshaphat p. skip and the officer to put us out of business. they've got a chattel mortgage for f-five hundred dollars, and if we can't pay it the bazar is b-busted. you know about mr. smalley. you've all been friends of his for years. what d'you think of a man who'll take away everything mr. smalley's got, just out of m-meanness?" "here," says the officer, "none of that, now. git off'n that counter and keep quiet." mark looked down at him and says: "i've talked this thing over with my lawyer, and i know what i can do and what i c-can't. i can keep possession of this store till twelve o'clock to-night if i want to. so, if you want to have your f-foreclosure to-day just hold your horses till i get through talkin'." the officer scowled a bit and then grinned and said to go ahead with the celebration. "mr. smalley didn't borrow this f-five hundred dollars from mr. skip. but what does mr. skip do? he sneaks around and finds out about it, and b-buys up the mortgage so he can use it to put the bazar out of business. he knew there wasn't room for his store and this one in wicksville, so he started in to git rid of us. he's been m-mean and underhanded from the start. he tried to get our credit cut off with the wholesale houses, and whatever he could d-do to hurt us he's gone ahead and done it." skip stood and scowled and wabbled his nose back and forth, but he didn't say a word. mark went on: "we had to m-make money for mr. smalley in the hospital, and we had to keep the business running. that took all we could make. so if we paid this chattel mortgage up we'd have to get the money some other way. "well, folks, it happened that mr. skip didn't know how long he'd last here, so he didn't t-take a lease of the store he's in. we found that out. then, folks, we went and got a lease of it ourselves. we could 'a' kicked skip out of it, but we didn't want to do that. we wanted to p-pay off the mortgage." he stopped and looked down at skip and grinned. folks all looked at skip, too. he was white, he was so mad, and if all the folks hadn't been there i don't know what he'd have done, but he didn't dare wiggle. mark started in again. "we wanted skip to pay himself the f-five hundred dollars. that's what we wanted. right there, folks, he paid part of it. we made him p-pay two hundred dollars to stay in his store. he didn't know he was payin' it to us, but he was." he reached in his pocket and pulled out a bundle of bills. "there's the very identical money he paid us. two hundred d-dollars of it.... there, mr. skip, is t-two hundred dollars on account. it's from you to yourself." and mark tossed the money down to the officer. i thought skip would choke. "but that wasn't enough," says mark. "there was three hundred dollars more. it seemed like we couldn't raise that much, but this week we arranged to have mr. skip p-pay that to himself, too. we did it this way: over in sunfield was a man named hoffer who had a f-f-five-and-ten-cent store. he wanted to sell cheap. we knew about it and we fixed it so skip heard about it, too. he started over to buy. we started the same day--and we beat him there. but we didn't have any m-m-money to buy with. that's where skip came in handy again. we went to mr. hoffer and got him to give us an option on his stock at nine hundred d-dollars. then we went to a lawyer to handle it for us. skip came to see the lawyer, not knowin' we had anything to do with it, and the lawyer sold him the stock we had bought at nine hundred dollars for twelve hundred and twenty-five dollars--givin' us a p-p-profit of three hundred d-dollars and payin' our lawyer for his services. perty kind of skip, wasn't it? eh, mr. skip? and, mr. skip, there's the three hundred dollars. the same b-bills you gave us. that squares us, mr. skip. you've p-paid yourself what we owed you and we're much obliged. 'tain't every man would be so kind." here he tossed over the three hundred. you should have seen skip. he couldn't say a word. i don't believe he could think. he just stood and trembled, he was so furious, and waggled his nose, and his adam's apple went up and down like an elevator in a busy building. and the folks yelled. it wasn't a cheer; it was a laugh. they hollered. men and women threw back their heads and laughed like i've never seen folks laugh before. and the things they said to skip! i wouldn't have had folks poke fun at me like that for seven times five hundred dollars. mark held up his hand. "i advertised this f-foreclosure," he said, with a grin, "so all wicksville would know what kind of a man skip is. i wanted wicksville to appreciate how generous he is. i hope after this f-folks won't bother to trade here at the bazar. we don't deserve it, for all we do is give an honest bargain for every cent you spend here. go to skip.... and now, mr. skip, you've got your money. i calc'late you and the officer hain't got anythin' more to d-do here, and i'll bet you've got business somewheres else. so good afternoon, mr. skip; and, mr. skip, you might carry off the thought that competition in business is all right, but that folks that tries to squeeze and won't play f-fair is apt to git into a pinch themselves.... good afternoon, mr. skip." skip and the officer started for the door, with folks jostling them and making funny remarks and laughing at them fit to bust. i'll bet he was glad to get to the door, and the way he shot out into the street and dodged toward his own place was enough to make you laugh if you had a sore tooth. then folks crowded around mark, and he stood and let them admire him, and enjoyed it to beat everything. mr. bloom got up on a chair and says: "fellow-townsmen, that there man skip hain't the sort of citizen we want here. there's some way to git rid of him. you know what that is." "you bet," says chet weevil, "just keep away from his store." "that's the ticket," says mr. bloom. "now, folks, see what you can do. it won't take long." "jest you watch us," says mr. hoover. "we'll 'tend to skip." mark stood up again. "now, folks," he says, "the place is ready for business again. you'll find us behind the counters, and we'll be there six days a week, ready to g-g-give you your money's worth and a little more every time." the crowd hung around a spell, gabbling and talking and buying a few things, but they finally left and we four were alone. "mark," says i, "i'm goin' to write mother now. whatever else there is to do can wait. and when her letter comes back i'm goin' to give it to you. she'll say in it the things that i hain't got any idea of how to say right." "there don't need to anybody say anything," says he, but all the same i knew he'd be pretty disappointed if nobody did, and i knew he'd want mother's letter to keep always. there was mark's little weakness. he could do big things and fine things and he was honest and the sort of fellow you could downright admire--but he did like to be admired. i don't know as i blame him. i'd like to be admired myself if i could find some way of making folks do it. conclusion that's about all there is to it. skip stuck it out two weeks, then he moved over to sunfield into mr. hoffer's store where he couldn't bother us any more. and that was the last of him. the business was a little slack at first, but it began to pick up in a day or two, and just before the saturday when the announcement of the result of the beauty contest was to be made there was quite a rush. mark tidd had stirred it up with advertising. the last time we put up the names before the final count the contestants stood: mr. pilkins, 967 votes. mr. bloom, 958 votes. chet weevil, 947 votes. chancy miller, 941 votes. of course there were others, but these men were at the top and nobody was near them. well, sir, on saturday morning in came young mr. hopkins, whose father owns the bank, and bought a phonograph just like old mose miller's, and a lot of records. it gave him eleven hundred votes. "you can v-vote 'em for yourself," says mark, with a grin, "and elect yourself the handsomest m-man in town." mr. hopkins, who was a bully fellow, grinned back. "what'll i do with 'em?" says he. mark's eyes twinkled. "it wouldn't be f-f-fair for me to suggest anything," says he, "but if those votes were mine i'll bet i'd have some f-f-fun with 'em." mr. hopkins thought a few minutes and then began writing a name on every ballot. it took him quite a while. i couldn't see who it was, but all of a sudden mark started to grin and i knew there was a joke on somebody. "who is it?" says i. "peabody," says mark. "jupiter peabody." "don't know him," says i. i didn't, either. i'd never heard of such a man. "who is he?" "oh, he's been living here a long time," says mr. hopkins. "maybe you never happened to meet him, though." i racked my brains, but for the life of me i couldn't catch on to who he was. at half past two the list was to go up, and there was a crowd on hand. everybody was anxious, especially chet and chancy and some of the women. the men mostly pretended it was a joke, anyhow, and they didn't care how it came out--but they did care, all the same. prompt on the minute mark stepped into the window and pasted up the list. for a minute the folks were quiet; then there was a hubbub. everybody was astonished. here, at the last minute, somebody had come in and beaten everybody. "peabody," says a man, "who's jupiter peabody? i know sam peabody, but he hain't got no relatives named jupiter that i know of." "me, neither," says mr. bloom. "anyhow he's handsomer'n i be. i'd like to git a look at him." chet and chancy both looked like they wanted to cry. "who is it?" says chet. "never heard of him," says chancy, "but i'll bet he's homelier'n you be." "anyhow," says chet, "he probably hain't got curly hair." it looked for a minute like there might be a scrimmage, but just then an old man came along, driving a dump-cart filled with pumpkins. "there," says mr. bloom, "is sam peabody. let's ask him if he knows this jupiter." so they stopped the old fellow, and mr. bloom says: "got any relatives livin' here?" "no," says mr. peabody, "nary relative." "any other peabodys hereabouts that you know of?" the old man shook his head slow and allowed he didn't know of any. "well," says mr. bloom, "this here is a mystery, all right. here's a jupiter peabody that's won the handsomest-man contest, and nobody knows him." "what?" says the old fellow. "what's that? won the handsomest-man contest? got most votes for bein' the handsomest man in wicksville? ho!" he threw back his head and roared. "handsomest man! whee! think of that, now." he sat a minute laughing like all-git-out; then he reached out with his whip and touched his mule. "giddap, jupiter!" says he. "giddap!" it was a minute before folks caught on--and then you should have heard the laugh. jupiter, jupiter peabody--a mule. and he'd been elected the handsomest man in wicksville. everybody, including even chet and chancy, roared so hard they almost choked, and they pounded each other on the back and danced up and down and shrieked. it was the funniest joke that ever happened in wicksville. maybe if a real man had won the losers would have been mad, but nobody won but a mule! and everybody saw the joke. i guess it was about the best way the thing could have come out. so that was the end of the beauty contest. in another two weeks father came home, a little lame, but so he would be all right in no time, and mother came with him. i'll never forget the way she took mark tidd by the hand, nor what she said to him. it made him blink his eyes, i can tell you. "mark," she says, "it's a fine thing to have brains that you can scheme with, and it's fine to be brave, and it's fine to be able to stick to things to the very end, but when you add to that a heart that's willing to do things for other folks, and that is happiest when it's helping somebody that needs help, you've got about the finest kind of a man there is. and that's the kind of man you're going to be, mark. i'm glad my son is your friend." i felt the same way about it myself. the end ----------------------------------------------------------------------- books for boys by a master of fiction the mark tidd stories by clarence budington kelland mark tidd an ingenious fat boy and his three friends meet danger and excitement in solving the mystery of the strange footprint in their secret cave. mark tidd in business mark and his three friends take smalley's bazaar and make a success of it, in spite of unfair competition from the villain of the story. mark tidd, editor the resourceful fat boy runs a country newspaper. as editor, foreman of the press room, circulation manager and business manager, he makes the wicksville trumpet a paying proposition. mark tidd, manufacturer the boys take over an old mill fallen into disrepair and soon have it showing a profit. how mark outwits the unscrupulous representative of a big power company makes an irresistibly funny book. mark tidd in the backwoods mark turns detective and foils a scheme to defraud his pal's uncle--an exciting story of mystery and fun. mark tidd's citadel the boys run into mystery in a closed-up summer hotel where they rescue a kidnapped samurai boy from his pursuers. mark tidd in italy here is fun and action aplenty and a story that will hold mark's old friends and make many new ones. grosset & dunlap : publishers : new york ----------------------------------------------------------------------- books for boys thrilling best-seller tales of mystery and adventure the spotlight books stocky of lone tree ranch chas. h. snow crimson ice c. fitzsimmons 70,000 witnesses c. fitzsimmons death on the diamond c. fitzsimmons flash gordon alex raymond tailspin tommy mark stevens smiley adams r.j. burrough hawk of the wilderness w. l. chester the pony express henry james forman the iron horse edwin c. hill the mystery of the yellow tie laurence dwight smith the lone ranger books by fran striker the lone ranger the lone ranger and the mystery ranch the lone ranger and the gold robbery the lone ranger and the outlaw stronghold the lone ranger and tonto the g-men books the g-men smash the "professor's" gang william engle the g-men in jeopardy laurence d. smith the g-men trap the spy ring laurence d. smith the jimmie drury books by david o'hara jimmie drury: candid camera detective jimmie drury: what the dark room revealed jimmie drury: caught by the camera grosset & dunlap publishers new york [illustration: santa barbara.] our italy by charles dudley warner _author of their pilgrimage, studies in the south and west, a little journey in the world ... with many illustrations_ [illustration] _new york_ _harper & brothers, franklin square_ copyright, 1891, by harper & brothers. _all rights reserved._ contents. chap. page i. how our italy is made 1 ii. our climatic and commercial mediterranean 10 iii. early vicissitudes.--productions.--sanitary climate 24 iv. the winter of our content 42 v. health and longevity 52 vi. is residence here agreeable? 65 vii. the winter on the coast 72 viii. the general outlook.--land and prices 90 ix. the advantages of irrigation 99 x. the chance for laborers and small farmers 107 xi. some details of the wonderful development 114 xii. how the fruit perils were met.--further details of localities 128 xiii. the advance of cultivation southward 140 xiv. a land of agreeable homes 146 xv. some wonders by the way.--yosemite.--mariposa trees.--monterey 148 xvi. fascinations of the desert.--the laguna pueblo 163 xvii. the heart of the desert 177 xviii. on the brink of the grand cañon.--the unique marvel of nature 189 appendix 201 index 219 illustrations. santa barbara _frontispiece_ page mojave desert 3 mojave indian 4 mojave indian 5 bird's-eye view of riverside 7 scene in san bernardino 11 scenes in montecito and los angeles 13 fan-palm, los angeles 16 yucca-palm, santa barbara 17 magnolia avenue, riverside 21 avenue los angeles 27 in the garden at santa barbara mission 31 scene at pasadena 35 live-oak near los angeles 39 midwinter, pasadena 53 a typical garden, near santa ana 57 old adobe house, pomona 61 fan-palm, fernando st. los angeles 63 scarlet passion-vine 68 rose-bush, santa barbara 73 at avalon, santa catalina island 77 hotel del coronado 83 ostrich yard, coronado beach 86 yucca-palm 92 date-palm 93 raisin-curing 101 irrigation by artesian-well system 104 irrigation by pipe system 105 garden scene, santa ana 110 a grape-vine, montecito valley, santa barbara 116 irrigating an orchard 120 orange culture 121 in a field of golden pumpkins 126 packing cherries, pomona 131 olive-trees six years old 136 sexton nurseries, near santa barbara 141 sweetwater dam 144 the yosemite dome 151 coast of monterey 155 cypress point 156 near seal rock 157 laguna--from the south-east 159 church at laguna 164 terraced houses, pueblo of laguna 167 grand cañon on the colorado--view from point sublime 171 interior of the church at laguna 174 grand cañon of the colorado--view opposite point sublime 179 tourists in the colorado cañon 183 grand cañon of the colorado--view from the hanse trail 191 our italy. chapter i. how our italy is made. the traveller who descends into italy by an alpine pass never forgets the surprise and delight of the transition. in an hour he is whirled down the slopes from the region of eternal snow to the verdure of spring or the ripeness of summer. suddenly--it may be at a turn in the road--winter is left behind; the plains of lombardy are in view; the lake of como or maggiore gleams below; there is a tree; there is an orchard; there is a garden; there is a villa overrun with vines; the singing of birds is heard; the air is gracious; the slopes are terraced, and covered with vineyards; great sheets of silver sheen in the landscape mark the growth of the olive; the dark green orchards of oranges and lemons are starred with gold; the lusty fig, always a temptation as of old, leans invitingly over the stone wall; everywhere are bloom and color under the blue sky; there are shrines by the way-side, chapels on the hill; one hears the melodious bells, the call of the vine-dressers, the laughter of girls. the contrast is as great from the indians of the mojave desert, two types of which are here given, to the vine-dressers of the santa ana valley. italy is the land of the imagination, but the sensation on first beholding it from the northern heights, aside from its associations of romance and poetry, can be repeated in our own land by whoever will cross the burning desert of colorado, or the savage wastes of the mojave wilderness of stone and sage-brush, and come suddenly, as he must come by train, into the bloom of southern california. let us study a little the physical conditions. the bay of san diego is about three hundred miles east of san francisco. the coast line runs south-east, but at point conception it turns sharply east, and then curves south-easterly about two hundred and fifty miles to the mexican coast boundary, the extreme south-west limits of the united states, a few miles below san diego. this coast, defined by these two limits, has a southern exposure on the sunniest of oceans. off this coast, south of point conception, lies a chain of islands, curving in position in conformity with the shore, at a distance of twenty to seventy miles from the main-land. these islands are san miguel, santa rosa, santa cruz, anacapa, santa barbara, san nicolas, santa catalina, san clemente, and los coronados, which lie in mexican waters. between this chain of islands and the main-land is santa barbara channel, flowing northward. the great ocean current from the north flows past point conception like a mill-race, and makes a suction, or a sort of eddy. it approaches nearer the coast in lower california, where the return current, which is much warmer, flows northward and westward along the curving shore. the santa barbara channel, which may be called an arm of the pacific, flows by many a bold point and lovely bay, like those of san pedro, redondo, and santa monica; but it has no secure harbor, except the magnificent and unique bay of san diego. [illustration: mojave desert.] the southern and western boundary of southern california is this mild pacific sea, studded with rocky and picturesque islands. the northern boundary of this region is ranges of lofty mountains, from five thousand to eleven thousand feet in height, some of them always snow-clad, which run eastward from point conception nearly to the colorado desert. they are parts of the sierra nevada range, but they take various names, santa ynes, san gabriel, san bernardino, and they are spoken of all together as the sierra madre. in the san gabriel group, "old baldy" lifts its snow-peak over nine thousand feet, while the san bernardino "grayback" rises over eleven thousand feet above the sea. southward of this, running down into san diego county, is the san jacinto range, also snow-clad; and eastward the land falls rapidly away into the salt desert of the colorado, in which is a depression about three hundred feet below the pacific. [illustration] the point arguilles, which is above point conception, by the aid of the outlying islands, deflects the cold current from the north off the coast of southern california, and the mountain ranges from point conception east divide the state of california into two climatic regions, the southern having more warmth, less rain and fog, milder winds, and less variation of daily temperature than the climate of central california to the north.[a] other striking climatic conditions are produced by the daily interaction of the pacific ocean and the colorado desert, infinitely diversified in minor particulars by the exceedingly broken character of the region--a jumble of bare mountains, fruitful foot-hills, and rich valleys. it would be only from a balloon that one could get an adequate idea of this strange land. [footnote a: for these and other observations upon physical and climatic conditions i am wholly indebted to dr. p. c. remondino and mr. t. s. van dyke, of san diego, both scientific and competent authorities.] the united states has here, then, a unique corner of the earth, without its like in its own vast territory, and unparalleled, so far as i know, in the world. shut off from sympathy with external conditions by the giant mountain ranges and the desert wastes, it has its own climate unaffected by cosmic changes. except a tidal wave from japan, nothing would seem to be able to affect or disturb it. the whole of italy feels more or less the climatic variations of the rest of europe. all our atlantic coast, all our interior basin from texas to manitoba, is in climatic sympathy. here is a region larger than new england which manufactures its own weather and refuses to import any other. [illustration] with considerable varieties of temperature according to elevation or protection from the ocean breeze, its climate is nearly, on the whole, as agreeable as that of the hawaiian islands, though pitched in a lower key, and with greater variations between day and night. the key to its peculiarity, aside from its southern exposure, is the colorado desert. that desert, waterless and treeless, is cool at night and intolerably hot in the daytime, sending up a vast column of hot air, which cannot escape eastward, for arizona manufactures a like column. it flows high above the mountains westward till it strikes the pacific and parts with its heat, creating an immense vacuum which is filled by the air from the coast flowing up the slope and over the range, and plunging down 6000 feet into the desert. "it is easy to understand," says mr. van dyke, making his observations from the summit of the cuyamaca, in san diego county, 6500 feet above the sea-level, "how land thus rising a mile or more in fifty or sixty miles, rising away from the coast, and falling off abruptly a mile deep into the driest and hottest of american deserts, could have a great variety of climates.... only ten miles away on the east the summers are the hottest, and only sixty miles on the west the coolest known in the united states (except on this coast), and between them is every combination that mountains and valleys can produce. and it is easy to see whence comes the sea-breeze, the glory of the california summer. it is passing us here, a gentle breeze of six or eight miles an hour. it is flowing over this great ridge directly into the basin of the colorado desert, 6000 feet deep, where the temperature is probably 120°, and perhaps higher. for many leagues each side of us this current is thus flowing at the same speed, and is probably half a mile or more in depth. about sundown, when the air on the desert cools and descends, the current will change and come the other way, and flood these western slopes with an air as pure as that of the sahara and nearly as dry. [illustration: bird's-eye view of riverside.] "the air, heated on the western slopes by the sea, would by rising produce considerable suction, which could be filled only from the sea, but that alone would not make the sea-breeze as dry as it is. the principal suction is caused by the rising of heated air from the great desert.... on the top of old grayback (in san bernardino) one can feel it [this breeze] setting westward, while in the cañons, 6000 feet below, it is blowing eastward.... all over southern california the conditions of this breeze are about the same, the great mojave desert and the valley of the san joaquin above operating in the same way, assisted by interior plains and slopes. hence these deserts, that at first seem to be a disadvantage to the land, are the great conditions of its climate, and are of far more value than if they were like the prairies of illinois. fortunately they will remain deserts forever. some parts will in time be reclaimed by the waters of the colorado river, but wet spots of a few hundred thousand acres would be too trifling to affect general results, for millions of acres of burning desert would forever defy all attempts at irrigation or settlement." this desert-born breeze explains a seeming anomaly in regard to the humidity of this coast. i have noticed on the sea-shore that salt does not become damp on the table, that the portuguese fishermen on point loma are drying their fish on the shore, and that while the hydrometer gives a humidity as high as seventy-four, and higher at times, and fog may prevail for three or four days continuously, the fog is rather "dry," and the general impression is that of a dry instead of the damp and chilling atmosphere such as exists in foggy times on the atlantic coast. "from the study of the origin of this breeze we see," says mr. van dyke, "why it is that a wind coming from the broad pacific should be drier than the dry land-breezes of the atlantic states, causing no damp walls, swelling doors, or rusting guns, and even on the coast drying up, without salt or soda, meat cut in strips an inch thick and fish much thicker." at times on the coast the air contains plenty of moisture, but with the rising of this breeze the moisture decreases instead of increases. it should be said also that this constantly returning current of air is always pure, coming in contact nowhere with marshy or malarious influences nor any agency injurious to health. its character causes the whole coast from santa barbara to san diego to be an agreeable place of residence or resort summer and winter, while its daily inflowing tempers the heat of the far inland valleys to a delightful atmosphere in the shade even in midsummer, while cool nights are everywhere the rule. the greatest surprise of the traveller is that a region which is in perpetual bloom and fruitage, where semi-tropical fruits mature in perfection, and the most delicate flowers dazzle the eye with color the winter through, should have on the whole a low temperature, a climate never enervating, and one requiring a dress of woollen in every month. chapter ii. our climatic and commercial mediterranean. winter as we understand it east of the rockies does not exist. i scarcely know how to divide the seasons. there are at most but three. spring may be said to begin with december and end in april; summer, with may (whose days, however, are often cooler than those of january), and end with september; while october and november are a mild autumn, when nature takes a partial rest, and the leaves of the deciduous trees are gone. but how shall we classify a climate in which the strawberry (none yet in my experience equal to the eastern berry) may be eaten in every month of the year, and ripe figs may be picked from july to march? what shall i say of a frost (an affair of only an hour just before sunrise) which is hardly anywhere severe enough to disturb the delicate heliotrope, and even in the deepest valleys where it may chill the orange, will respect the bloom of that fruit on contiguous ground fifty or a hundred feet higher? we boast about many things in the united states, about our blizzards and our cyclones, our inundations and our areas of low pressure, our hottest and our coldest places in the world, but what can we say for this little corner which is practically frostless, and yet never had a sunstroke, knows nothing of thunder-storms and lightning, never experienced a cyclone, which is so warm that the year round one is tempted to live out-of-doors, and so cold that woollen garments are never uncomfortable? nature here, in this protected and petted area, has the knack of being genial without being enervating, of being stimulating without "bracing" a person into the tomb. i think it conducive to equanimity of spirit and to longevity to sit in an orange grove and eat the fruit and inhale the fragrance of it while gazing upon a snow-mountain. [illustration: scene in san bernardino.] this southward-facing portion of california is irrigated by many streams of pure water rapidly falling from the mountains to the sea. the more important are the santa clara, the los angeles and san gabriel, the santa ana, the santa margarita, the san luis rey, the san bernardo, the san diego, and, on the mexican border, the tia juana. many of them go dry or flow underground in the summer months (or, as the californians say, the bed of the river gets on top), but most of them can be used for artificial irrigation. in the lowlands water is sufficiently near the surface to moisten the soil, which is broken and cultivated; in most regions good wells are reached at a small depth, in others artesian-wells spout up abundance of water, and considerable portions of the regions best known for fruit are watered by irrigating ditches and pipes supplied by ample reservoirs in the mountains. from natural rainfall and the sea moisture the mesas and hills, which look arid before ploughing, produce large crops of grain when cultivated after the annual rains, without artificial watering. southern california has been slowly understood even by its occupants, who have wearied the world with boasting of its productiveness. originally it was a vast cattle and sheep ranch. it was supposed that the land was worthless except for grazing. held in princely ranches of twenty, fifty, one hundred thousand acres, in some cases areas larger than german principalities, tens of thousands of cattle roamed along the watercourses and over the mesas, vast flocks of sheep cropped close the grass and trod the soil into hard-pan. the owners exchanged cattle and sheep for corn, grain, and garden vegetables; they had no faith that they could grow cereals, and it was too much trouble to procure water for a garden or a fruit orchard. it was the firm belief that most of the rolling mesa land was unfit for cultivation, and that neither forest nor fruit trees would grow without irrigation. between los angeles and redondo beach is a ranch of 35,000 acres. seventeen years ago it was owned by a scotchman, who used the whole of it as a sheep ranch. in selling it to the present owner he warned him not to waste time by attempting to farm it; he himself raised no fruit or vegetables, planted no trees, and bought all his corn, wheat, and barley. the purchaser, however, began to experiment. he planted trees and set out orchards which grew, and in a couple of years he wrote to the former owner that he had 8000 acres in fine wheat. to say it in a word, there is scarcely an acre of the tract which is not highly productive in barley, wheat, corn, potatoes, while considerable parts of it are especially adapted to the english walnut and to the citrus fruits. [illustration: scenes in montecito and los angeles.] on this route to the sea the road is lined with gardens. nothing could be more unpromising in appearance than this soil before it is ploughed and pulverized by the cultivator. it looks like a barren waste. we passed a tract that was offered three years ago for twelve dollars an acre. some of it now is rented to chinamen at thirty dollars an acre; and i saw one field of two acres off which a chinaman has sold in one season $750 worth of cabbages. the truth is that almost all the land is wonderfully productive if intelligently handled. the low ground has water so near the surface that the pulverized soil will draw up sufficient moisture for the crops; the mesa, if sown and cultivated after the annual rains, matures grain and corn, and sustains vines and fruit-trees. it is singular that the first settlers should never have discovered this productiveness. when it became apparent--that is, productiveness without artificial watering--there spread abroad a notion that irrigation generally was not needed. we shall have occasion to speak of this more in detail, and i will now only say, on good authority, that while cultivation, not to keep down the weeds only, but to keep the soil stirred and prevent its baking, is the prime necessity for almost all land in southern california, there are portions where irrigation is always necessary, and there is no spot where the yield of fruit or grain will not be quadrupled by judicious irrigation. there are places where irrigation is excessive and harmful both to the quality and quantity of oranges and grapes. the history of the extension of cultivation in the last twenty and especially in the past ten years from the foot-hills of the sierra madre in los angeles and san bernardino counties southward to san diego is very curious. experiments were timidly tried. every acre of sand and sage-bush reclaimed southward was supposed to be the last capable of profitable farming or fruit-growing. it is unsafe now to say of any land that has not been tried that it is not good. in every valley and on every hill-side, on the mesas and in the sunny nooks in the mountains, nearly anything will grow, and the application of water produces marvellous results. from san bernardino and redlands, riverside, pomona, ontario, santa anita, san gabriel, pasadena, all the way to los angeles, is almost a continuous fruit garden, the green areas only emphasized by wastes yet unreclaimed; a land of charming cottages, thriving towns, hospitable to the fruit of every clime; a land of perpetual sun and ever-flowing breeze, looked down on by purple mountain ranges tipped here and there with enduring snow. and what is in progress here will be seen before long in almost every part of this wonderful land, for conditions of soil and climate are essentially everywhere the same, and capital is finding out how to store in and bring from the fastnesses of the mountains rivers of clear water taken at such elevations that the whole arable surface can be irrigated. the development of the country has only just begun. [illustration: fan-palm, los angeles.] [illustration: yucca-palm, santa barbara.] if the reader will look upon the map of california he will see that the eight counties that form southern california--san luis obispo, santa barbara, ventura, kern, los angeles, san bernardino, orange, and san diego--appear very mountainous. he will also notice that the eastern slopes of san bernardino and san diego are deserts. but this is an immense area. san diego county alone is as large as massachusetts, connecticut, and rhode island combined, and the amount of arable land in the valleys, on the foot-hills, on the rolling mesas, is enormous, and capable of sustaining a dense population, for its fertility and its yield to the acre under cultivation are incomparable. the reader will also notice another thing. with the railroads now built and certain to be built through all this diversified region, round from the santa barbara mountains to the san bernardino, the san jacinto, and down to cuyamaca, a ride of an hour or two hours brings one to some point on the 250 miles of sea-coast--a sea-coast genial, inviting in winter and summer, never harsh, and rarely tempestuous like the atlantic shore. here is our mediterranean! here is our italy! it is a mediterranean without marshes and without malaria, and it does not at all resemble the mexican gulf, which we have sometimes tried to fancy was like the classic sea that laves africa and europe. nor is this region italian in appearance, though now and then some bay with its purple hills running to the blue sea, its surrounding mesas and cañons blooming in semi-tropical luxuriance, some conjunction of shore and mountain, some golden color, some white light and sharply defined shadows, some refinement of lines, some poetic tints in violet and ashy ranges, some ultramarine in the sea, or delicate blue in the sky, will remind the traveller of more than one place of beauty in southern italy and sicily. it is a mediterranean with a more equable climate, warmer winters and cooler summers, than the north mediterranean shore can offer; it is an italy whose mountains and valleys give almost every variety of elevation and temperature. but it is our commercial mediterranean. the time is not distant when this corner of the united states will produce in abundance, and year after year without failure, all the fruits and nuts which for a thousand years the civilized world of europe has looked to the mediterranean to supply. we shall not need any more to send over the atlantic for raisins, english walnuts, almonds, figs, olives, prunes, oranges, lemons, limes, and a variety of other things which we know commercially as mediterranean products. we have all this luxury and wealth at our doors, within our limits. the orange and the lemon we shall still bring from many places; the date and the pineapple and the banana will never grow here except as illustrations of the climate, but it is difficult to name any fruit of the temperate and semi-tropic zones that southern california cannot be relied on to produce, from the guava to the peach. it will need further experiment to determine what are the more profitable products of this soil, and it will take longer experience to cultivate them and send them to market in perfection. the pomegranate and the apple thrive side by side, but the apple is not good here unless it is grown at an elevation where frost is certain and occasional snow may be expected. there is no longer any doubt about the peach, the nectarine, the pear, the grape, the orange, the lemon, the apricot, and so on; but i believe that the greatest profit will be in the products that cannot be grown elsewhere in the united states--the products to which we have long given the name of mediterranean--the olive, the fig, the raisin, the hard and soft shell almond, and the walnut. the orange will of course be a staple, and constantly improve its reputation as better varieties are raised, and the right amount of irrigation to produce the finest and sweetest is ascertained. it is still a wonder that a land in which there was no indigenous product of value, or to which cultivation could give value, should be so hospitable to every sort of tree, shrub, root, grain, and flower that can be brought here from any zone and temperature, and that many of these foreigners to the soil grow here with a vigor and productiveness surpassing those in their native land. this bewildering adaptability has misled many into unprofitable experiments, and the very rapidity of growth has been a disadvantage. the land has been advertised by its monstrous vegetable productions, which are not fit to eat, and but testify to the fertility of the soil; and the reputation of its fruits, both deciduous and citrus, has suffered by specimens sent to eastern markets whose sole recommendation was size. even in the vineyards and orange orchards quality has been sacrificed to quantity. nature here responds generously to every encouragement, but it cannot be forced without taking its revenge in the return of inferior quality. it is just as true of southern california as of any other land, that hard work and sagacity and experience are necessary to successful horticulture and agriculture, but it is undeniably true that the same amount of well-directed industry upon a much smaller area of land will produce more return than in almost any other section of the united states. sensible people do not any longer pay much attention to those tempting little arithmetical sums by which it is demonstrated that paying so much for ten acres of barren land, and so much for planting it with vines or oranges, the income in three years will be a competence to the investor and his family. people do not spend much time now in gaping over abnormal vegetables, or trying to convince themselves that wines of every known variety and flavor can be produced within the limits of one flat and well-watered field. few now expect to make a fortune by cutting arid land up into twenty-feet lots, but notwithstanding the extravagance of recent speculation, the value of arable land has steadily appreciated, and is not likely to recede, for the return from it, either in fruits, vegetables, or grain, is demonstrated to be beyond the experience of farming elsewhere. [illustration: magnolia avenue, riverside.] land cannot be called dear at one hundred or one thousand dollars an acre if the annual return from it is fifty or five hundred dollars. the climate is most agreeable the year through. there are no unpleasant months, and few unpleasant days. the eucalyptus grows so fast that the trimmings from the trees of a small grove or highway avenue will in four or five years furnish a family with its firewood. the strong, fattening alfalfa gives three, four, five, and even six harvests a year. nature needs little rest, and, with the encouragement of water and fertilizers, apparently none. but all this prodigality and easiness of life detracts a little from ambition. the lesson has been slowly learned, but it is now pretty well conned, that hard work is as necessary here as elsewhere to thrift and independence. the difference between this and many other parts of our land is that nature seems to work with a man, and not against him. chapter iii. early vicissitudes.--productions.--sanitary climate. southern california has rapidly passed through varied experiences, and has not yet had a fair chance to show the world what it is. it had its period of romance, of pastoral life, of lawless adventure, of crazy speculation, all within a hundred years, and it is just now entering upon its period of solid, civilized development. a certain light of romance is cast upon this coast by the spanish voyagers of the sixteenth century, but its history begins with the establishment of the chain of franciscan missions, the first of which was founded by the great father junipero serra at san diego in 1769. the fathers brought with them the vine and the olive, reduced the savage indians to industrial pursuits, and opened the way for that ranchero and adobe civilization which, down to the coming of the american, in about 1840, made in this region the most picturesque life that our continent has ever seen. following this is a period of desperado adventure and revolution, of pioneer state-building; and then the advent of the restless, the cranky, the invalid, the fanatic, from every other state in the union. the first experimenters in making homes seem to have fancied that they had come to a ready-made elysium--the idle man's heaven. they seem to have brought with them little knowledge of agriculture or horticulture, were ignorant of the conditions of success in this soil and climate, and left behind the good industrial maxims of the east. the result was a period of chance experiment, one in which extravagant expectation and boasting to some extent took the place of industry. the imagination was heated by the novelty of such varied and rapid productiveness. men's minds were inflamed by the apparently limitless possibilities. the invalid and the speculator thronged the transcontinental roads leading thither. in this condition the frenzy of 1886-87 was inevitable. i saw something of it in the winter of 1887. the scenes then daily and commonplace now read like the wildest freaks of the imagination. the bubble collapsed as suddenly as it expanded. many were ruined, and left the country. more were merely ruined in their great expectations. the speculation was in town lots. when it subsided it left the climate as it was, the fertility as it was, and the value of arable land not reduced. marvellous as the boom was, i think the present recuperation is still more wonderful. in 1890, to be sure, i miss the bustle of the cities, and the creation of towns in a week under the hammer of the auctioneer. but in all the cities, and most of the villages, there has been growth in substantial buildings, and in the necessities of civic life--good sewerage, water supply, and general organization; while the country, as the acreage of vines and oranges, wheat and barley, grain and corn, and the shipments by rail testify, has improved more than at any other period, and commerce is beginning to feel the impulse of a genuine prosperity, based upon the intelligent cultivation of the ground. school-houses have multiplied; libraries have been founded; many "boom" hotels, built in order to sell city lots in the sage-brush, have been turned into schools and colleges. there is immense rivalry between different sections. every californian thinks that the spot where his house stands enjoys the best climate and is the most fertile in the world; and while you are with him you think he is justified in his opinion; for this rivalry is generally a wholesome one, backed by industry. i do not mean to say that the habit of tall talk is altogether lost. whatever one sees he is asked to believe is the largest and best in the world. the gentleman of the whip who showed us some of the finest places in los angeles--places that in their wealth of flowers and semi-tropical gardens would rouse the enthusiasm of the most jaded traveller--was asked whether there were any finer in the city. "finer? hundreds of them;" and then, meditatively and regretfully, "i should not dare to show you the best." the semi-ecclesiastical custodian of the old adobe mission of san gabriel explained to us the twenty portraits of apostles on the walls, all done by murillo. as they had got out of repair, he had them all repainted by the best artist. "that one," he said, simply, "cost ten dollars. it often costs more to repaint a picture than to buy an original." the temporary evils in the train of the "boom" are fast disappearing. i was told that i should find the country stagnant. trade, it is true, is only slowly coming in, real-estate deals are sleeping, but in all avenues of solid prosperity and productiveness the country is the reverse of stagnant. another misapprehension this visit is correcting. i was told not to visit southern california at this season on account of the heat. but i have no experience of a more delightful summer climate than this, especially on or near the coast. [illustration: avenue los angeles.] in secluded valleys in the interior the thermometer rises in the daytime to 85°, 90°, and occasionally 100°, but i have found no place in them where there was not daily a refreshing breeze from the ocean, where the dryness of the air did not make the heat seem much less than it was, and where the nights were not agreeably cool. my belief is that the summer climate of southern california is as desirable for pleasure-seekers, for invalids, for workmen, as its winter climate. it seems to me that a coast temperature 60° to 75°, stimulating, without harshness or dampness, is about the perfection of summer weather. it should be said, however, that there are secluded valleys which become very hot in the daytime in midsummer, and intolerably dusty. the dust is the great annoyance everywhere. it gives the whole landscape an ashy tint, like some of our eastern fields and way-sides in a dry august. the verdure and the wild flowers of the rainy season disappear entirely. there is, however, some picturesque compensation for this dust and lack of green. the mountains and hills and great plains take on wonderful hues of brown, yellow, and red. i write this paragraph in a high chamber in the hotel del coronado, on the great and fertile beach in front of san diego. it is the 2d of june. looking southward, i see the great expanse of the pacific ocean, sparkling in the sun as blue as the waters at amalfi. a low surf beats along the miles and miles of white sand continually, with the impetus of far-off seas and trade-winds, as it has beaten for thousands of years, with one unending roar and swish, and occasional shocks of sound as if of distant thunder on the shore. yonder, to the right, point loma stretches its sharp and rocky promontory into the ocean, purple in the sun, bearing a light-house on its highest elevation. from this signal, bending in a perfect crescent, with a silver rim, the shore sweeps around twenty-five miles to another promontory running down beyond tia juana to the point of rocks, in mexican territory. directly in front--they say eighteen miles away, i think five sometimes, and sometimes a hundred--lie the islands of coronado, named, i suppose, from the old spanish adventurer vasques de coronado, huge bulks of beautiful red sandstone, uninhabited and barren, becalmed there in the changing blue of sky and sea, like enormous mastless galleons, like degraded icebergs, like capri and ischia. they say that they are stationary. i only know that when i walk along the shore towards point loma they seem to follow, until they lie opposite the harbor entrance, which is close by the promontory; and that when i return, they recede and go away towards mexico, to which they belong. sometimes, as seen from the beach, owing to the difference in the humidity of the strata of air over the ocean, they seem smaller at the bottom than at the top. occasionally they come quite near, as do the sea-lions and the gulls, and again they almost fade out of the horizon in a violet light. this morning they stand away, and the fleet of white-sailed fishing-boats from the portuguese hamlet of la playa, within the harbor entrance, which is dancing off point loma, will have a long sail if they pursue the barracuda to those shadowy rocks. [illustration: in the garden at santa barbara mission.] we crossed the bay the other day, and drove up a wild road to the height of the promontory, and along its narrow ridge to the light-house. this site commands one of the most remarkable views in the accessible civilized world, one of the three or four really great prospects which the traveller can recall, astonishing in its immensity, interesting in its peculiar details. the general features are the great ocean, blue, flecked with sparkling, breaking wavelets, and the wide, curving coast-line, rising into mesas, foot-hills, ranges on ranges of mountains, the faintly seen snow-peaks of san bernardino and san jacinto to the cuyamaca and the flat top of table mountain in mexico. directly under us on one side are the fields of kelp, where the whales come to feed in winter; and on the other is a point of sand on coronado beach, where a flock of pelicans have assembled after their day's fishing, in which occupation they are the rivals of the portuguese. the perfect crescent of the ocean beach is seen, the singular formation of north and south coronado beach, the entrance to the harbor along point loma, and the spacious inner bay, on which lie san diego and national city, with lowlands and heights outside sprinkled with houses, gardens, orchards, and vineyards. the near hills about this harbor are varied in form and poetic in color, one of them, the conical san miguel, constantly recalling vesuvius. indeed, the near view, in color, vegetation, and forms of hills and extent of arable land, suggests that of naples, though on analysis it does not resemble it. if san diego had half a million of people it would be more like it; but the naples view is limited, while this stretches away to the great mountains that overlook the colorado desert. it is certainly one of the loveliest prospects in the world, and worth long travel to see. standing upon this point of view, i am reminded again of the striking contrasts and contiguous different climates on the coast. in the north, of course not visible from here, is mount whitney, on the borders of inyo county and of the state of nevada, 15,086 feet above the sea, the highest peak in the united states, excluding alaska. south of it is grayback, in the san bernardino range, 11,000 feet in altitude, the highest point above its base in the united states. while south of that is the depression in the colorado desert in san diego county, about three hundred feet below the level of the pacific ocean, the lowest land in the united states. these three exceptional points can be said to be almost in sight of each other. [illustration: scene at pasadena.] i have insisted so much upon the mediterranean character of this region that it is necessary to emphasize the contrasts also. reserving details and comments on different localities as to the commercial value of products and climatic conditions, i will make some general observations. i am convinced that the fig can not only be grown here in sufficient quantity to supply our markets, but of the best quality. the same may be said of the english walnut. this clean and handsome tree thrives wonderfully in large areas, and has no enemies. the olive culture is in its infancy, but i have never tasted better oil than that produced at santa barbara and on san diego bay. specimens of the pickled olive are delicious, and when the best varieties are generally grown, and the best method of curing is adopted, it will be in great demand, not as a mere relish, but as food. the raisin is produced in all the valleys of southern california, and in great quantities in the hot valley of san joaquin, beyond the sierra madre range. the best malaga raisins, which have the reputation of being the best in the world, may never come to our market, but i have never eaten a better raisin for size, flavor, and thinness of skin than those raised in the el cajon valley, which is watered by the great flume which taps a reservoir in the cuyamaca mountains, and supplies san diego. but the quality of the raisin in california will be improved by experience in cultivation and handling. the contrast with the mediterranean region--i refer to the western basin--is in climate. there is hardly any point along the french and italian coast that is not subject to great and sudden changes, caused by the north wind, which has many names, or in the extreme southern peninsula and islands by the sirocco. there are few points that are not reached by malaria, and in many resorts--and some of them most sunny and agreeable to the invalid--the deadliest fevers always lie in wait. there is great contrast between summer and winter, and exceeding variability in the same month. this variability is the parent of many diseases of the lungs, the bowels, and the liver. it is demonstrated now by long-continued observations that dampness and cold are not so inimical to health as variability. the southern california climate is an anomaly. it has been the subject of a good deal of wonder and a good deal of boasting, but it is worthy of more scientific study than it has yet received. its distinguishing feature i take to be its equability. the temperature the year through is lower than i had supposed, and the contrast is not great between the summer and the winter months. the same clothing is appropriate, speaking generally, for the whole year. in all seasons, including the rainy days of the winter months, sunshine is the rule. the variation of temperature between day and night is considerable, but if the new-comer exercises a little care, he will not be unpleasantly affected by it. there are coast fogs, but these are not chilling and raw. why it is that with the hydrometer showing a considerable humidity in the air the general effect of the climate is that of dryness, scientists must explain. the constant exchange of desert airs with the ocean air may account for the anomaly, and the actual dryness of the soil, even on the coast, is put forward as another explanation. those who come from heated rooms on the atlantic may find the winters cooler than they expect, and those used to the heated terms of the mississippi valley and the east will be surprised at the cool and salubrious summers. a land without high winds or thunder-storms may fairly be said to have a unique climate. [illustration: live-oak near los angeles.] i suppose it is the equability and not conditions of dampness or dryness that renders this region so remarkably exempt from epidemics and endemic diseases. the diseases of children prevalent elsewhere are unknown here; they cut their teeth without risk, and _cholera infantum_ never visits them. diseases of the bowels are practically unknown. there is no malaria, whatever that may be, and consequently an absence of those various fevers and other disorders which are attributed to malarial conditions. renal diseases are also wanting; disorders of the liver and kidneys, and bright's disease, gout, and rheumatism, are not native. the climate in its effect is stimulating, but at the same time soothing to the nerves, so that if "nervous prostration" is wanted, it must be brought here, and cannot be relied on to continue long. these facts are derived from medical practice with the native indian and mexican population. dr. remondino, to whom i have before referred, has made the subject a study for eighteen years, and later i shall offer some of the results of his observations upon longevity. it is beyond my province to venture any suggestion upon the effect of the climate upon deep-seated diseases, especially of the respiratory organs, of invalids who come here for health. i only know that we meet daily and constantly so many persons in fair health who say that it is impossible for them to live elsewhere that the impression is produced that a considerable proportion of the immigrant population was invalid. there are, however, two suggestions that should be made. care is needed in acclimation to a climate that differs from any previous experience; and the locality that will suit any invalid can only be determined by personal experience. if the coast does not suit him, he may be benefited in a protected valley, or he may be improved on the foot-hills, or on an elevated mesa, or on a high mountain elevation. one thing may be regarded as settled. whatever the sensibility or the peculiarity of invalidism, the equable climate is exceedingly favorable to the smooth working of the great organic functions of respiration, digestion, and circulation. it is a pity to give this chapter a medical tone. one need not be an invalid to come here and appreciate the graciousness of the air; the color of the landscape, which is wanting in our northern clime; the constant procession of flowers the year through; the purple hills stretching into the sea; the hundreds of hamlets, with picturesque homes overgrown with roses and geranium and heliotrope, in the midst of orange orchards and of palms and magnolias, in sight of the snow-peaks of the giant mountain ranges which shut in this land of marvellous beauty. chapter iv. the winter of our content. california is the land of the pine and the palm. the tree of the sierras, native, vigorous, gigantic, and the tree of the desert, exotic, supple, poetic, both flourish within the nine degrees of latitude. these two, the widely separated lovers of heine's song, symbolize the capacities of the state, and although the sugar-pine is indigenous, and the date-palm, which will never be more than an ornament in this hospitable soil, was planted by the franciscan fathers, who established a chain of missions from san diego to monterey over a century ago, they should both be the distinction of one commonwealth, which, in its seven hundred miles of indented sea-coast, can boast the climates of all countries and the products of all zones. if this state of mountains and valleys were divided by an east and west line, following the general course of the sierra madre range, and cutting off the eight lower counties, i suppose there would be conceit enough in either section to maintain that it only is the paradise of the earth, but both are necessary to make the unique and contradictory california which fascinates and bewilders the traveller. he is told that the inhabitants of san francisco go away from the draught of the golden gate in the summer to get warm, and yet the earliest luscious cherries and apricots which he finds in the far south market of san diego come from the northern santa clara valley. the truth would seem to be that in an hour's ride in any part of the state one can change his climate totally at any time of the year, and this not merely by changing his elevation, but by getting in or out of the range of the sea or the desert currents of air which follow the valleys. to recommend to any one a winter climate is far from the writer's thought. no two persons agree on what is desirable for a winter residence, and the inclination of the same person varies with his state of health. i can only attempt to give some idea of what is called the winter months in southern california, to which my observations mainly apply. the individual who comes here under the mistaken notion that climate ever does anything more than give nature a better chance, may speedily or more tardily need the service of an undertaker; and the invalid whose powers are responsive to kindly influences may live so long, being unable to get away, that life will be a burden to him. the person in ordinary health will find very little that is hostile to the orderly organic processes. in order to appreciate the winter climate of southern california one should stay here the year through, and select the days that suit his idea of winter from any of the months. from the fact that the greatest humidity is in the summer and the least in the winter months, he may wear an overcoat in july in a temperature, according to the thermometer, which in january would render the overcoat unnecessary. it is dampness that causes both cold and heat to be most felt. the lowest temperatures, in southern california generally, are caused only by the extreme dryness of the air; in the long nights of december and january there is a more rapid and longer continued radiation of heat. it must be a dry and clear night that will send the temperature down to thirty-four degrees. but the effect of the sun upon this air is instantaneous, and the cold morning is followed at once by a warm forenoon; the difference between the average heat of july and the average cold of january, measured by the thermometer, is not great in the valleys, foot-hills, and on the coast. five points give this result of average for january and july respectively: santa barbara, 52°, 66°; san bernardino, 51°, 70°; pomona, 52°, 68°; los angeles, 52°, 67°; san diego, 53°, 66°. the day in the winter months is warmer in the interior and the nights are cooler than on the coast, as shown by the following figures for january: 7 a.m., los angeles, 46.5°; san diego, 47.5°; 3 p.m., los angeles, 65.2°; san diego, 60.9°. in the summer the difference is greater. in june i saw the thermometer reach 103° in los angeles when it was only 79° in san diego. but i have seen the weather unendurable in new york with a temperature of 85°, while this dry heat of 103° was not oppressive. the extraordinary equanimity of the coast climate (certainly the driest marine climate in my experience) will be evident from the average mean for each month, from records of sixteen years, ending in 1877, taken at san diego, giving each month in order, beginning with january: 53.5°, 54.7°, 56.0°, 58.2°, 60.2°, 64.6°, 67.1°, 69.0°, 66.7°, 62.9°, 58.1°, 56.0°. in the year 1877 the mean temperature at 3 p.m. at san diego was as follows, beginning with january: 60.9°, 57.7°, 62.4°, 63.3°, 66.3°, 68.5°, 69.6°, 69.6°, 69.5°, 69.6°, 64.4°, 60.5°. for the four months of july, august, september, and october there was hardly a shade of difference at 3 p.m. the striking fact in all the records i have seen is that the difference of temperature in the daytime between summer and winter is very small, the great difference being from midnight to just before sunrise, and this latter difference is greater inland than on the coast. there are, of course, frost and ice in the mountains, but the frost that comes occasionally in the low inland valleys is of very brief duration in the morning hour, and rarely continues long enough to have a serious effect upon vegetation. in considering the matter of temperature, the rule for vegetation and for invalids will not be the same. a spot in which delicate flowers in southern california bloom the year round may be too cool for many invalids. it must not be forgotten that the general temperature here is lower than that to which most eastern people are accustomed. they are used to living all winter in overheated houses, and to protracted heated terms rendered worse by humidity in the summer. the dry, low temperature of the california winter, notwithstanding its perpetual sunshine, may seem, therefore, wanting to them in direct warmth. it may take a year or two to acclimate them to this more equable and more refreshing temperature. neither on the coast nor in the foot-hills will the invalid find the climate of the riviera or of tangier--not the tramontane wind of the former, nor the absolutely genial but somewhat enervating climate of the latter. but it must be borne in mind that in this, our mediterranean, the seeker for health or pleasure can find almost any climate (except the very cold or the very hot), down to the minutest subdivision. he may try the dry marine climate of the coast, or the temperature of the fruit lands and gardens from san bernardino to los angeles, or he may climb to any altitude that suits him in the sierra madre or the san jacinto ranges. the difference may be all-important to him between a valley and a mesa which is not a hundred feet higher; nay, between a valley and the slope of a foot-hill, with a shifting of not more than fifty feet elevation, the change may be as marked for him as it is for the most sensitive young fruit-tree. it is undeniable, notwithstanding these encouraging "averages," that cold snaps, though rare, do come occasionally, just as in summer there will occur one or two or three continued days of intense heat. and in the summer in some localities--it happened in june, 1890, in the santiago hills in orange county--the desert sirocco, blowing over the colorado furnace, makes life just about unendurable for days at a time. yet with this dry heat sunstroke is never experienced, and the diseases of the bowels usually accompanying hot weather elsewhere are unknown. the experienced traveller who encounters unpleasant weather, heat that he does not expect, cold that he did not provide for, or dust that deprives him of his last atom of good-humor, and is told that it is "exceptional," knows exactly what that word means. he is familiar with the "exceptional" the world over, and he feels a sort of compassion for the inhabitants who have not yet learned the adage, "good wine needs no bush." even those who have bought more land than they can pay for can afford to tell the truth. the rainy season in southern california, which may open with a shower or two in october, but does not set in till late in november, or till december, and is over in april, is not at all a period of cloudy weather or continuous rainfall. on the contrary, bright warm days and brilliant sunshine are the rule. the rain is most likely to fall in the night. there may be a day of rain, or several days that are overcast with distributed rain, but the showers are soon over, and the sky clears. yet winters vary greatly in this respect, the rainfall being much greater in some than in others. in 1890 there was rain beyond the average, and even on the equable beach of coronada there were some weeks of weather that from the california point of view were very unpleasant. it was unpleasant by local comparison, but it was not damp and chilly, like a protracted period of falling weather on the atlantic. the rain comes with a southerly wind, caused by a disturbance far north, and with the resumption of the prevailing westerly winds it suddenly ceases, the air clears, and neither before nor after it is the atmosphere "steamy" or enervating. the average annual rainfall of the pacific coast diminishes by regular gradation from point to point all the way from puget sound to the mexican boundary. at neah bay it is 111 inches, and it steadily lessens down to santa cruz, 25.24; monterey, 11.42; point conception, 12.21; san diego, 11.01. there is fog on the coast in every month, but this diminishes, like the rainfall, from north to south. i have encountered it in both february and june. in the south it is apt to be most persistent in april and may, when for three or four days together there will be a fine mist, which any one but a scotchman would call rain. usually, however, the fog-bank will roll in during the night, and disappear by ten o'clock in the morning. there is no wet season properly so called, and consequently few days in the winter months when it is not agreeable to be out-of-doors, perhaps no day when one may not walk or drive during some part of it. yet as to precipitation or temperature it is impossible to strike any general average for southern california. in 1883-84 san diego had 25.77 inches of rain, and los angeles (fifteen miles inland) had 38.22. the annual average at los angeles is 17.64; but in 1876-77 the total at san diego was only 3.75, and at los angeles only 5.28. yet elevation and distance from the coast do not always determine the rainfall. the yearly mean rainfall at julian, in the san jacinto range, at an elevation of 4500 feet, is 37.74; observations at riverside, 1050 feet above the sea, give an average of 9.37. it is probably impossible to give an eastern man a just idea of the winter of southern california. accustomed to extremes, he may expect too much. he wants a violent change. if he quits the snow, the slush, the leaden skies, the alternate sleet and cold rain of new england, he would like the tropical heat, the languor, the color of martinique. he will not find them here. he comes instead into a strictly temperate region; and even when he arrives, his eyes deceive him. he sees the orange ripening in its dark foliage, the long lines of the eucalyptus, the feathery pepper-tree, the magnolia, the english walnut, the black live-oak, the fan-palm, in all the vigor of june; everywhere beds of flowers of every hue and of every country blazing in the bright sunlight--the heliotrope, the geranium, the rare hot-house roses overrunning the hedges of cypress, and the scarlet passion-vine climbing to the roof-tree of the cottages; in the vineyard or the orchard the horticulturist is following the cultivator in his shirt-sleeves; he hears running water, the song of birds, the scent of flowers is in the air, and he cannot understand why he needs winter clothing, why he is always seeking the sun, why he wants a fire at night. it is a fraud, he says, all this visible display of summer, and of an almost tropical summer at that; it is really a cold country. it is incongruous that he should be looking at a date-palm in his overcoat, and he is puzzled that a thermometrical heat that should enervate him elsewhere, stimulates him here. the green, brilliant, vigorous vegetation, the perpetual sunshine, deceive him; he is careless about the difference of shade and sun, he gets into a draught, and takes cold. accustomed to extremes of temperature and artificial heat, i think for most people the first winter here is a disappointment. i was told by a physician who had eighteen years' experience of the climate that in his first winter he thought he had never seen a people so insensitive to cold as the san diegans, who seemed not to require warmth. and all this time the trees are growing like asparagus, the most delicate flowers are in perpetual bloom, the annual crops are most lusty. i fancy that the soil is always warm. the temperature is truly moderate. the records for a number of years show that the mid-day temperature of clear days in winter is from 60° to 70° on the coast, from 65° to 80° in the interior, while that of rainy days is about 60° by the sea and inland. mr. van dyke says that the lowest mid-day temperature recorded at the united states signal station at san diego during eight years is 51°. this occurred but once. in those eight years there were but twenty-one days when the mid-day temperature was not above 55°. in all that time there were but six days when the mercury fell below 36° at any time in the night; and but two when it fell to 32°, the lowest point ever reached there. on one of these two last-named days it went to 51° at noon, and on the other to 56°. this was the great "cold snap" of december, 1879. it goes without saying that this sort of climate would suit any one in ordinary health, inviting and stimulating to constant out-of-door exercise, and that it would be equally favorable to that general breakdown of the system which has the name of nervous prostration. the effect upon diseases of the respiratory organs can only be determined by individual experience. the government has lately been sending soldiers who have consumption from various stations in the united states to san diego for treatment. this experiment will furnish interesting data. within a period covering a little over two years, dr. huntington, the post surgeon, has had fifteen cases sent to him. three of these patients had tubercular consumption; twelve had consumption induced by attacks of pneumonia. one of the tubercular patients died within a month after his arrival; the second lived eight months; the third was discharged cured, left the army, and contracted malaria elsewhere, of which he died. the remaining twelve were discharged practically cured of consumption, but two of them subsequently died. it is exceedingly common to meet persons of all ages and both sexes in southern california who came invalided by disease of the lungs or throat, who have every promise of fair health here, but who dare not leave this climate. the testimony is convincing of the good effect of the climate upon all children, upon women generally, and of its rejuvenating effect upon men and women of advanced years. chapter v. health and longevity. in regard to the effect of climate upon health and longevity, dr. remondino quotes old hufeland that "uniformity in the state of the atmosphere, particularly in regard to heat, cold, gravity, and lightness, contributes in a very considerable degree to the duration of life. countries, therefore, where great and sudden varieties in the barometer and the thermometer are usual cannot be favorable to longevity. such countries may be healthy, and many men may become old in them, but they will not attain to a great age, for all rapid variations are so many internal mutations, and these occasion an astonishing consumption both of the forces and the organs." hufeland thought a marine climate most favorable to longevity. he describes, and perhaps we may say prophesied, a region he had never known, where the conditions and combinations were most favorable to old age, which is epitomized by dr. remondino: "where the latitude gives warmth and the sea or ocean tempering winds, where the soil is warm and dry and the sun is also bright and warm, where uninterrupted bright clear weather and a moderate temperature are the rule, where extremes neither of heat nor cold are to be found, where nothing may interfere with the exercise of the aged, and where the actual results and cases of longevity will bear testimony as to the efficacy of all its climatic conditions being favorable to a long and comfortable existence." [illustration: midwinter, pasadena.] in an unpublished paper dr. remondino comments on the extraordinary endurance of animals and men in the california climate, and cites many cases of uncommon longevity in natives. in reading the accounts of early days in california i am struck with the endurance of hardship, exposure, and wounds by the natives and the adventurers, the rancheros, horsemen, herdsmen, the descendants of soldiers and the indians, their insensibility to fatigue, and their agility and strength. this is ascribed to the climate; and what is true of man is true of the native horse. his only rival in strength, endurance, speed, and intelligence is the arabian. it was long supposed that this was racial, and that but for the smallness of the size of the native horse, crossing with it would improve the breed of the eastern and kentucky racers. but there was reluctance to cross the finely proportioned eastern horse with his diminutive western brother. the importation and breeding of thoroughbreds on this coast has led to the discovery that the desirable qualities of the california horse were not racial but climatic. the eastern horse has been found to improve in size, compactness of muscle, in strength of limb, in wind, with a marked increase in power of endurance. the traveller here notices the fine horses and their excellent condition, and the power and endurance of those that have considerable age. the records made on eastern race-courses by horses from california breeding farms have already attracted attention. it is also remarked that the eastern horse is usually improved greatly by a sojourn of a season or two on this coast, and the plan of bringing eastern race-horses here for the winter is already adopted. man, it is asserted by our authority, is as much benefited as the horse by a change to this climate. the new-comer may have certain unpleasant sensations in coming here from different altitudes and conditions, but he will soon be conscious of better being, of increased power in all the functions of life, more natural and recuperative sleep, and an accession of vitality and endurance. dr. remondino also testifies that it occasionally happens in this rejuvenation that families which have seemed to have reached their limit at the east are increased after residence here. the early inhabitants of southern california, according to the statement of mr. h. h. bancroft and other reports, were found to be living in spartan conditions as to temperance and training, and in a highly moral condition, in consequence of which they had uncommon physical endurance and contempt for luxury. this training in abstinence and hardship, with temperance in diet, combined with the climate to produce the astonishing longevity to be found here. contrary to the customs of most other tribes of indians, their aged were the care of the community. dr. w. a. winder, of san diego, is quoted as saying that in a visit to el cajon valley some thirty years ago he was taken to a house in which the aged persons were cared for. there were half a dozen who had reached an extreme age. some were unable to move, their bony frame being seemingly anchylosed. they were old, wrinkled, and blear-eyed; their skin was hanging in leathery folds about their withered limbs; some had hair as white as snow, and had seen some seven-score of years; others, still able to crawl, but so aged as to be unable to stand, went slowly about on their hands and knees, their limbs being attenuated and withered. the organs of special sense had in many nearly lost all activity some generations back. some had lost the use of their limbs for more than a decade or a generation; but the organs of life and the "great sympathetic" still kept up their automatic functions, not recognizing the fact, and surprisingly indifferent to it, that the rest of the body had ceased to be of any use a generation or more in the past. and it is remarked that "these thoracic and abdominal organs and their physiological action being kept alive and active, as it were, against time, and the silent and unconscious functional activity of the great sympathetic and its ganglia, show a tenacity of the animal tissues to hold on to life that is phenomenal." [illustration: a typical garden, near santa ana.] i have no space to enter upon the nature of the testimony upon which the age of certain indians hereafter referred to is based. it is such as to satisfy dr. remondino, dr. edward palmer, long connected with the agricultural department of the smithsonian institution, and father a. d. ubach, who has religious charge of the indians in this region. these indians were not migratory; they lived within certain limits, and were known to each other. the missions established by the franciscan friars were built with the assistance of the indians. the friars have handed down by word of mouth many details in regard to their early missions; others are found in the mission records, such as carefully kept records of family events--births, marriages, and deaths. and there is the testimony of the indians regarding each other. father ubach has known a number who were employed at the building of the mission of san diego (1769-71), a century before he took charge of this mission. these men had been engaged in carrying timber from the mountains or in making brick, and many of them were living within the last twenty years. there are persons still living at the indian village of capitan grande whose ages he estimates at over one hundred and thirty years. since the advent of civilization the abstemious habits and spartan virtues of these indians have been impaired, and their care for the aged has relaxed. dr. palmer has a photograph (which i have seen) of a squaw whom he estimates to be 126 years old. when he visited her he saw her put six watermelons in a blanket, tie it up, and carry it on her back for two miles. he is familiar with indian customs and history, and a careful cross-examination convinced him that her information of old customs was not obtained by tradition. she was conversant with tribal habits she had seen practised, such as the cremation of the dead, which the mission fathers had compelled the indians to relinquish. she had seen the indians punished by the fathers with floggings for persisting in the practice of cremation. at the mission of san tomas, in lower california, is still living an indian (a photograph of whom dr. remondino shows), bent and wrinkled, whose age is computed at 140 years. although blind and naked, he is still active, and daily goes down the beach and along the beds of the creeks in search of drift-wood, making it his daily task to gather and carry to camp a fagot of wood. [illustration: old adobe house, pomona.] another instance i give in dr. remondino's words: "philip crossthwaite, who has lived here since 1843, has an old man on his ranch who mounts his horse and rides about daily, who was a grown man breaking horses for the mission fathers when don antonio serrano was an infant. don antonio i know quite well, having attended him through a serious illness some sixteen years ago. although now at the advanced age of ninety-three, he is as erect as a pine, and he rides his horse with his usual vigor and grace. he is thin and spare and very tall, and those who knew him fifty years or more remember him as the most skilful horseman in the neighborhood of san diego. and yet, as fabulous as it may seem, the man who danced this don antonio on his knee when he was an infant is not only still alive, but is active enough to mount his horse and canter about the country. some years ago i attended an elderly gentleman, since dead, who knew this man as a full-grown man when he and don serrano were play-children together. from a conversation with father ubach i learned that the man's age is perfectly authenticated to be beyond one hundred and eighteen years." in the many instances given of extreme old age in this region the habits of these indians have been those of strict temperance and abstemiousness, and their long life in an equable climate is due to extreme simplicity of diet. in many cases of extreme age the diet has consisted simply of acorns, flour, and water. it is asserted that the climate itself induces temperance in drink and abstemiousness in diet. in his estimate of the climate as a factor of longevity, dr. remondino says that it is only necessary to look at the causes of death, and the ages most subject to attack, to understand that the less of these causes that are present the greater are the chances of man to reach great age. "add to these reflections that you run no gantlet of diseases to undermine or deteriorate the organism; that in this climate childhood finds an escape from those diseases which are the terror of mothers, and against which physicians are helpless, as we have here none of those affections of the first three years of life so prevalent during the summer months in the east and the rest of the united states. then, again, the chance of gastric or intestinal disease is almost incredibly small. this immunity extends through every age of life. hepatic and kindred diseases are unknown; of lung affections there is no land that can boast of like exemption. be it the equability of the temperature or the aseptic condition of the atmosphere, the free sweep of winds or the absence of disease germs, or what else it may be ascribed to, one thing is certain, that there is no pneumonia, bronchitis, or pleurisy lying in wait for either the infant or the aged." [illustration: fan-palm, fernando st. los angeles.] the importance of this subject must excuse the space i have given to it. it is evident from this testimony that here are climatic conditions novel and worthy of the most patient scientific investigation. their effect upon hereditary tendencies and upon persons coming here with hereditary diseases will be studied. three years ago there was in some localities a visitation of small-pox imported from mexico. at that time there were cases of pneumonia. whether these were incident to carelessness in vaccination, or were caused by local unsanitary conditions, i do not know. it is not to be expected that unsanitary conditions will not produce disease here as elsewhere. it cannot be too strongly insisted that this is a climate that the new-comer must get used to, and that he cannot safely neglect the ordinary precautions. the difference between shade and sun is strikingly marked, and he must not be deceived into imprudence by the prevailing sunshine or the general equability. chapter vi. is residence here agreeable? after all these averages and statistics, and not considering now the chances of the speculator, the farmer, the fruit-raiser, or the invalid, is southern california a particularly agreeable winter residence? the question deserves a candid answer, for it is of the last importance to the people of the united states to know the truth--to know whether they have accessible by rail a region free from winter rigor and vicissitudes, and yet with few of the disadvantages of most winter resorts. one would have more pleasure in answering the question if he were not irritated by the perpetual note of brag and exaggeration in every locality that each is the paradise of the earth, and absolutely free from any physical discomfort. i hope that this note of exaggeration is not the effect of the climate, for if it is, the region will never be socially agreeable. there are no sudden changes of season here. spring comes gradually day by day, a perceptible hourly waking to life and color; and this glides into a summer which never ceases, but only becomes tired and fades into the repose of a short autumn, when the sere and brown and red and yellow hills and the purple mountains are waiting for the rain clouds. this is according to the process of nature; but wherever irrigation brings moisture to the fertile soil, the green and bloom are perpetual the year round, only the green is powdered with dust, and the cultivated flowers have their periods of exhaustion. i should think it well worth while to watch the procession of nature here from late november or december to april. it is a land of delicate and brilliant wild flowers, of blooming shrubs, strange in form and wonderful in color. before the annual rains the land lies in a sort of swoon in a golden haze; the slopes and plains are bare, the hills yellow with ripe wild-oats or ashy gray with sage, the sea-breeze is weak, the air grows drier, the sun hot, the shade cool. then one day light clouds stream up from the south-west, and there is a gentle rain. when the sun comes out again its rays are milder, the land is refreshed and brightened, and almost immediately a greenish tinge appears on plain and hill-side. at intervals the rain continues, daily the landscape is greener in infinite variety of shades, which seem to sweep over the hills in waves of color. upon this carpet of green by february nature begins to weave an embroidery of wild flowers, white, lavender, golden, pink, indigo, scarlet, changing day by day and every day more brilliant, and spreading from patches into great fields until dale and hill and table-land are overspread with a refinement and glory of color that would be the despair of the carpet-weavers of daghestan. this, with the scent of orange groves and tea-roses, with cool nights, snow in sight on the high mountains, an occasional day of rain, days of bright sunshine, when an overcoat is needed in driving, must suffice the sojourner for winter. he will be humiliated that he is more sensitive to cold than the heliotrope or the violet, but he must bear it. if he is looking for malaria, he must go to some other winter resort. if he wants a "norther" continuing for days, he must move on. if he is accustomed to various insect pests, he will miss them here. if there comes a day warmer than usual, it will not be damp or soggy. so far as nature is concerned there is very little to grumble at, and one resource of the traveller is therefore taken away. but is it interesting? what is there to do? it must be confessed that there is a sort of monotony in the scenery as there is in the climate. there is, to be sure, great variety in a way between coast and mountain, as, for instance, between santa barbara and pasadena, and if the tourist will make a business of exploring the valleys and uplands and cañons little visited, he will not complain of monotony; but the artist and the photographer find the same elements repeated in little varying combinations. there is undeniable repetition in the succession of flower-gardens, fruit orchards, alleys of palms and peppers, vineyards, and the cultivation about the villas is repeated in all directions. the americans have not the art of making houses or a land picturesque. the traveller is enthusiastic about the exquisite drives through these groves of fruit, with the ashy or the snow-covered hills for background and contrast, and he exclaims at the pretty cottages, vine and rose clad, in their semi-tropical setting, but if by chance he comes upon an old adobe or a mexican ranch house in the country, he has emotions of a different sort. [illustration: scarlet passion-vine.] there is little left of the old spanish occupation, but the remains of it make the romance of the country, and appeal to our sense of fitness and beauty. it is to be hoped that all such historical associations will be preserved, for they give to the traveller that which our country generally lacks, and which is so largely the attraction of italy and spain. instead of adapting and modifying the houses and homes that the climate suggests, the new american comers have brought here from the east the smartness and prettiness of our modern nondescript architecture. the low house, with recesses and galleries, built round an inner court, or _patio_, which, however small, would fill the whole interior with sunshine and the scent of flowers, is the sort of dwelling that would suit the climate and the habit of life here. but the present occupiers have taken no hints from the natives. in village and country they have done all they can, in spite of the maguey and the cactus and the palm and the umbrella-tree and the live-oak and the riotous flowers and the thousand novel forms of vegetation, to give everything a prosaic look. but why should the tourist find fault with this? the american likes it, and he would not like the picturesqueness of the spanish or the latin races. so far as climate and natural beauty go to make one contented in a winter resort, southern california has unsurpassed attractions, and both seem to me to fit very well the american temperament; but the associations of art and history are wanting, and the tourist knows how largely his enjoyment of a vacation in southern italy or sicily or northern africa depends upon these--upon these and upon the aspects of human nature foreign to his experience. it goes without saying that this is not europe, either in its human interest or in a certain refinement of landscape that comes only by long cultivation and the occupancy of ages. one advantage of foreign travel to the restless american is that he carries with him no responsibility for the government or the progress of the country he is in, and that he leaves business behind him; whereas in this new country, which is his own, the development of which is so interesting, and in which the opportunities of fortune seem so inviting, he is constantly tempted "to take a hand in." if, however, he is superior to this fever, and is willing simply to rest, to drift along with the equable days, i know of no other place where he can be more truly contented. year by year the country becomes more agreeable for the traveller, in the first place, through the improvement in the hotels, and in the second, by better roads. in the large villages and cities there are miles of excellent drives, well sprinkled, through delightful avenues, in a park-like country, where the eye is enchanted with color and luxurious vegetation, and captivated by the remarkable beauty of the hills, the wildness and picturesqueness of which enhance the charming cultivation of the orchards and gardens. and no country is more agreeable for riding and driving, for even at mid-day, in the direct sun rays, there is almost everywhere a refreshing breeze, and one rides or drives or walks with little sense of fatigue. the horses are uniformly excellent, either in the carriage or under the saddle. i am sure they are remarkable in speed, endurance, and ease of motion. if the visiting season had no other attraction, the horses would make it distinguished. a great many people like to spend months in a comfortable hotel, lounging on the piazzas, playing lawn-tennis, taking a morning ride or afternoon drive, making an occasional picnic excursion up some mountain cañon, getting up charades, playing at private theatricals, dancing, flirting, floating along with more or less sentiment and only the weariness that comes when there are no duties. there are plenty of places where all these things can be done, and with no sort of anxiety about the weather from week to week, and with the added advantage that the women and children can take care of themselves. but for those who find such a life monotonous there are other resources. there is very good fishing in the clear streams in the foot-hills, hunting in the mountains for large game still worthy of the steadiest nerves, and good bird-shooting everywhere. there are mountains to climb, cañons to explore, lovely valleys in the recesses of the hills to be discovered--in short, one disposed to activity and not afraid of roughing it could occupy himself most agreeably and healthfully in the wild parts of san bernardino and san diego counties; he may even still start a grizzly in the sierra madre range in los angeles county. hunting and exploring in the mountains, riding over the mesas, which are green from the winter rains and gay with a thousand delicate grasses and flowering plants, is manly occupation to suit the most robust and adventurous. those who saunter in the trim gardens, or fly from one hotel parlor to the other, do not see the best of southern california in the winter. chapter vii. the winter on the coast. but the distinction of this coast, and that which will forever make it attractive at the season when the north atlantic is forbidding, is that the ocean-side is as equable, as delightful, in winter as in summer. its sea-side places are truly all-the-year-round resorts. in subsequent chapters i shall speak in detail of different places as to climate and development and peculiarities of production. i will now only give a general idea of southern california as a wintering place. even as far north as monterey, in the central part of the state, the famous hotel del monte, with its magnificent park of pines and live-oaks, and exquisite flower-gardens underneath the trees, is remarkable for its steadiness of temperature. i could see little difference between the temperature of june and of february. the difference is of course greatest at night. the maximum the year through ranges from about 65° to about 80°, and the minimum from about 35° to about 58°, though there are days when the thermometer goes above 90°, and nights when it falls below 30°. [illustration: rose-bush, santa barbara.] to those who prefer the immediate ocean air to that air as modified by such valleys as the san gabriel and the santa ana, the coast offers a variety of choice in different combinations of sea and mountain climate all along the southern sunny exposure from santa barbara to san diego. in santa barbara county the santa inez range of mountains runs westward to meet the pacific at point conception. south of this noble range are a number of little valleys opening to the sea, and in one of these, with a harbor and sloping upland and cañon of its own, lies santa barbara, looking southward towards the sunny islands of santa rosa and santa cruz. above it is the mission cañon, at the entrance of which is the best-preserved of the old franciscan missions. there is a superb drive eastward along the long and curving sea-beach of four miles to the cañon of monticito, which is rather a series of nooks and terraces, of lovely places and gardens, of plantations of oranges and figs, rising up to the base of the gray mountains. the long line of the santa inez suggests the promontory of sorrento, and a view from the opposite rocky point, which encloses the harbor on the west, by the help of cypresses which look like stone-pines, recalls many an italian coast scene, and in situation the bay of naples. the whole aspect is foreign, enchanting, and the semi-tropical fruits and vines and flowers, with a golden atmosphere poured over all, irresistibly take the mind to scenes of italian romance. there is still a little spanish flavor left in the town, in a few old houses, in names and families historic, and in the life without hurry or apprehension. there is a delightful commingling here of sea and mountain air, and in a hundred fertile nooks in the hills one in the most delicate health may be sheltered from every harsh wind. i think no one ever leaves santa barbara without a desire to return to it. farther down the coast, only eighteen miles from los angeles, and a sort of coney island resort of that thriving city, is santa monica. its hotel stands on a high bluff in a lovely bend of the coast. it is popular in summer as well as winter, as the number of cottages attest, and it was chosen by the directors of the national soldiers' home as the site of the home on the pacific coast. there the veterans, in a commodious building, dream away their lives most contentedly, and can fancy that they hear the distant thunder of guns in the pounding of the surf. at about the same distance from los angeles, southward, above point vincent, is redondo beach, a new resort, which, from its natural beauty and extensive improvements, promises to be a delightful place of sojourn at any time of the year. the mountainous, embracing arms of the bay are exquisite in contour and color, and the beach is very fine. the hotel is perfectly comfortable--indeed, uncommonly attractive--and the extensive planting of trees, palms, and shrubs, and the cultivation of flowers, will change the place in a year or two into a scene of green and floral loveliness; in this region two years, such is the rapid growth, suffices to transform a desert into a park or garden. on the hills, at a little distance from the beach and pier, are the buildings of the chautauqua, which holds a local summer session here. the chautauqua people, the country over, seem to have, in selecting sightly and agreeable sites for their temples of education and amusement, as good judgment as the old monks had in planting their monasteries and missions. [illustration: at avalon, santa catalina island.] if one desires a thoroughly insular climate, he may cross to the picturesque island of santa catalina. all along the coast flowers bloom in the winter months, and the ornamental semi-tropical plants thrive; and there are many striking headlands and pretty bays and gentle seaward slopes which are already occupied by villages, and attract visitors who would practise economy. the hills frequently come close to the shore, forming those valleys in which the californians of the pastoral period placed their ranch houses. at san juan capristrano the fathers had one of their most flourishing missions, the ruins of which are the most picturesque the traveller will find. it is altogether a genial, attractive coast, and if the tourist does not prefer an inland situation, like the hotel raymond (which scarcely has a rival anywhere in its lovely surroundings), he will keep on down the coast to san diego. the transition from the well-planted counties of los angeles and orange is not altogether agreeable to the eye. one misses the trees. the general aspect of the coast about san diego is bare in comparison. this simply means that the southern county is behind the others in development. nestled among the hills there are live-oaks and sycamores; and of course at national city and below, in el cajon and the valley of the sweetwater, there are extensive plantations of oranges, lemons, olives, and vines, but the san diego region generally lies in the sun shadeless. i have a personal theory that much vegetation is inconsistent with the best atmosphere for the human being. the air is nowhere else so agreeable to me as it is in a barren new mexican or arizona desert at the proper elevation. i do not know whether the san diego climate would be injured if the hills were covered with forest and the valleys were all in the highest and most luxuriant vegetation. the theory is that the interaction of the desert and ocean winds will always keep it as it is, whatever man may do. i can only say that, as it is, i doubt if it has its equal the year round for agreeableness and healthfulness in our union; and it is the testimony of those whose experience of the best mediterranean climate is more extended and much longer continued than mine, that it is superior to any on that enclosed sea. about this great harbor, whose outer beach has an extent of twenty-five miles, whose inland circuit of mountains must be over fifty miles, there are great varieties of temperature, of shelter and exposure, minute subdivisions of climate, whose personal fitness can only be attested by experience. there is a great difference, for instance, between the quality of the climate at the elevation of the florence hotel, san diego, and the university heights on the mesa above the town, and that on the long coronado beach which protects the inner harbor from the ocean surf. the latter, practically surrounded by water, has a true marine climate, but a peculiar and dry marine climate, as tonic in its effect as that of capri, and, i believe, with fewer harsh days in the winter season. i wish to speak with entire frankness about this situation, for i am sure that what so much pleases me will suit a great number of people, who will thank me for not being reserved. doubtless it will not suit hundreds of people as well as some other localities in southern california, but i found no other place where i had the feeling of absolute content and willingness to stay on indefinitely. there is a geniality about it for which the thermometer does not account, a charm which it is difficult to explain. much of the agreeability is due to artificial conditions, but the climate man has not made nor marred. the coronado beach is about twelve miles long. a narrow sand promontory, running northward from the main-land, rises to the heights, then broadens into a table-land, which seems to be an island, and measures about a mile and a half each way; this is called south beach, and is connected by another spit of sand with a like area called north beach, which forms, with point loma, the entrance to the harbor. the north beach, covered partly with chaparral and broad fields of barley, is alive with quail, and is a favorite coursing-ground for rabbits. the soil, which appears uninviting, is with water uncommonly fertile, being a mixture of loam, disintegrated granite, and decomposed shells, and especially adapted to flowers, rare tropical trees, fruits, and flowering shrubs of all countries. the development is on the south beach, which was in january, 1887, nothing but a waste of sand and chaparral. i doubt if the world can show a like transformation in so short a time. i saw it in february of that year, when all the beauty, except that of ocean, sky, and atmosphere, was still to be imagined. it is now as if the wand of the magician had touched it. in the first place, abundance of water was brought over by a submarine conduit, and later from the extraordinary coronado springs (excellent soft water for drinking and bathing, and with a recognized medicinal value), and with these streams the beach began to bloom like a tropical garden. tens of thousands of trees have attained a remarkable growth in three years. the nursery is one of the most interesting botanical and flower gardens in the country; palms and hedges of monterey cypress and marguerites line the avenues. there are parks and gardens of rarest flowers and shrubs, whose brilliant color produces the same excitement in the mind as strains of martial music. a railway traverses the beach for a mile from the ferry to the hotel. there are hundreds of cottages with their gardens scattered over the surface; there is a race-track, a museum, an ostrich farm, a labyrinth, good roads for driving, and a dozen other attractions for the idle or the inquisitive. [illustration: hotel del coronado.] the hotel stands upon the south front of the beach and near the sea, above which it is sufficiently elevated to give a fine prospect. the sound of the beating surf is perpetual there. at low tide there is a splendid driving beach miles in extent, and though the slope is abrupt, the opportunity for bathing is good, with a little care in regard to the undertow. but there is a safe natatorium on the harbor side close to the hotel. the stranger, when he first comes upon this novel hotel and this marvellous scene of natural and created beauty, is apt to exhaust his superlatives. i hesitate to attempt to describe this hotel--this airy and picturesque and half-bizarre wooden creation of the architect. taking it and its situation together, i know nothing else in the world with which to compare it, and i have never seen any other which so surprised at first, that so improved on a two weeks' acquaintance, and that has left in the mind an impression so entirely agreeable. it covers about four and a half acres of ground, including an inner court of about an acre, the rich made soil of which is raised to the level of the main floor. the house surrounds this, in the spanish mode of building, with a series of galleries, so that most of the suites of rooms have a double outlook--one upon this lovely garden, the other upon the ocean or the harbor. the effect of this interior court or _patio_ is to give gayety and an air of friendliness to the place, brilliant as it is with flowers and climbing vines; and when the royal and date palms that are vigorously thriving in it attain their growth it will be magnificent. big hotels and caravansaries are usually tiresome, unfriendly places; and if i should lay too much stress upon the vast dining-room (which has a floor area of ten thousand feet without post or pillar), or the beautiful breakfast-room, or the circular ballroom (which has an area of eleven thousand feet, with its timber roof open to the lofty observatory), or the music-room, billiard-rooms for ladies, the reading-rooms and parlors, the pretty gallery overlooking the spacious office rotunda, and then say that the whole is illuminated with electric lights, and capable of being heated to any temperature desired--i might convey a false impression as to the actual comfort and home-likeness of this charming place. on the sea side the broad galleries of each story are shut in by glass, which can be opened to admit or shut to exclude the fresh ocean breeze. whatever the temperature outside, those great galleries are always agreeable for lounging or promenading. for me, i never tire of the sea and its changing color and movement. if this great house were filled with guests, so spacious are its lounging places i should think it would never appear to be crowded; and if it were nearly empty, so admirably are the rooms contrived for family life it will not seem lonesome. i shall add that the management is of the sort that makes the guest feel at home and at ease. flowers, brought in from the gardens and nurseries, are every where in profusion--on the dining-tables, in the rooms, all about the house. so abundantly are they produced that no amount of culling seems to make an impression upon their mass. [illustration: ostrich yard, coronado beach.] but any description would fail to give the secret of the charm of existence here. restlessness disappears, for one thing, but there is no languor or depression. i cannot tell why, when the thermometer is at 60° or 63°, the air seems genial and has no sense of chilliness, or why it is not oppressive at 80° or 85°. i am sure the place will not suit those whose highest idea of winter enjoyment is tobogganing and an ice palace, nor those who revel in the steam and languor of a tropical island; but for a person whose desires are moderate, whose tastes are temperate, who is willing for once to be good-humored and content in equable conditions, i should commend coronado beach and the hotel del coronado, if i had not long ago learned that it is unsafe to commend to any human being a climate or a doctor. but you can take your choice. it lies there, our mediterranean region, on a blue ocean, protected by barriers of granite from the northern influences, an infinite variety of plain, cañon, hills, valleys, sea-coast; our new italy without malaria, and with every sort of fruit which we desire (except the tropical), which will be grown in perfection when our knowledge equals our ambition; and if you cannot find a winter home there or pass some contented weeks in the months of northern inclemency, you are weighing social advantages against those of the least objectionable climate within the union. it is not yet proved that this equability and the daily out-door life possible there will change character, but they are likely to improve the disposition and soften the asperities of common life. at any rate, there is a land where from november to april one has not to make a continual fight with the elements to keep alive. it has been said that this land of the sun and of the equable climate will have the effect that other lands of a southern aspect have upon temperament and habits. it is feared that northern-bred people, who are guided by the necessity of making hay while the sun shines, will not make hay at all in a land where the sun always shines. it is thought that unless people are spurred on incessantly by the exigencies of the changing seasons they will lose energy, and fall into an idle floating along with gracious nature. will not one sink into a comfortable and easy procrastination if he has a whole year in which to perform the labor of three months? will southern california be an exception to those lands of equable climate and extraordinary fertility where every effort is postponed till "to-morrow?" i wish there might be something solid in this expectation; that this may be a region where the restless american will lose something of his hurry and petty, feverish ambition. partially it may be so. he will take, he is already taking, something of the tone of the climate and of the old spanish occupation. but the race instinct of thrift and of "getting on" will not wear out in many generations. besides, the condition of living at all in southern california in comfort, and with the social life indispensable to our people, demands labor, not exhausting and killing, but still incessant--demands industry. a land that will not yield satisfactorily without irrigation, and whose best paying produce requires intelligent as well as careful husbandry, will never be an idle land. egypt, with all its _dolce far niente_, was never an idle land for the laborer. it may be expected, however, that no more energy will be developed or encouraged than is needed for the daily tasks, and these tasks being lighter than elsewhere, and capable of being postponed, that there will be less stress and strain in the daily life. although the climate of southern california is not enervating, in fact is stimulating to the new-comer, it is doubtless true that the monotony of good weather, of the sight of perpetual bloom and color in orchards and gardens, will take away nervousness and produce a certain placidity, which might be taken for laziness by a northern observer. it may be that engagements will not be kept with desired punctuality, under the impression that the enjoyment of life does not depend upon exact response to the second-hand of a watch; and it is not unpleasant to think that there is a corner of the union where there will be a little more leisure, a little more of serene waiting on providence, an abatement of the restless rush and haste of our usual life. the waves of population have been rolling westward for a long time, and now, breaking over the mountains, they flow over pacific slopes and along the warm and inviting seas. is it altogether an unpleasing thought that the conditions of life will be somewhat easier there, that there will be some physical repose, the race having reached the sunset of the continent, comparable to the desirable placidity of life called the sunset of old age? this may be altogether fanciful, but i have sometimes felt, in the sunny moderation of nature there, that this land might offer for thousands at least a winter of content. chapter viii. the general outlook.--land and prices. from the northern limit of california to the southern is about the same distance as from portsmouth, new hampshire, to charleston, south carolina. of these two coast lines, covering nearly ten degrees of latitude, or over seven hundred miles, the atlantic has greater extremes of climate and greater monthly variations, and the pacific greater variety of productions. the state of california is, however, so mountainous, cut by longitudinal and transverse ranges, that any reasonable person can find in it a temperature to suit him the year through. but it does not need to be explained that it would be difficult to hit upon any general characteristic that would apply to the stretch of the atlantic coast named, as a guide to a settler looking for a home; the description of massachusetts would be wholly misleading for south carolina. it is almost as difficult to make any comprehensive statement about the long line of the california coast. it is possible, however, limiting the inquiry to the southern third of the state--an area of about fifty-eight thousand square miles, as large as maine, new hampshire, massachusetts, connecticut, and rhode island--to answer fairly some of the questions oftenest asked about it. these relate to the price of land, its productiveness, the kind of products most profitable, the sort of labor required, and its desirability as a place of residence for the laborer, for the farmer or horticulturist of small means, and for the man with considerable capital. questions on these subjects cannot be answered categorically, but i hope to be able, by setting down my own observations and using trustworthy reports, to give others the material on which to exercise their judgment. in the first place, i think it demonstrable that a person would profitably exchange 160 acres of farming land east of the one hundredth parallel for ten acres, with a water right, in southern california. [illustration: yucca-palm.] in making this estimate i do not consider the question of health or merely the agreeability of the climate, but the conditions of labor, the ease with which one could support a family, and the profits over and above a fair living. it has been customary in reckoning the value of land there to look merely to the profit of it beyond its support of a family, forgetting that agriculture and horticulture the world over, like almost all other kinds of business, usually do little more than procure a good comfortable living, with incidental education, to those who engage in them. that the majority of the inhabitants of southern california will become rich by the culture of the orange and the vine is an illusion; but it is not an illusion that twenty times its present population can live there in comfort, in what might be called luxury elsewhere, by the cultivation of the soil, all far removed from poverty and much above the condition of the majority of the inhabitants of the foreign wine and fruit-producing countries. this result is assured by the extraordinary productiveness of the land, uninterrupted the year through, and by the amazing extension of the market in the united states for products that can be nowhere else produced with such certainty and profusion as in california. that state is only just learning how to supply a demand which is daily increasing, but it already begins to command the market in certain fruits. this command of the market in the future will depend upon itself, that is, whether it will send east and north only sound wine, instead of crude, ill-cured juice of the grape, only the best and most carefully canned apricots, nectarines, peaches, and plums, only the raisins and prunes perfectly prepared, only such oranges, lemons, and grapes and pears as the californians are willing to eat themselves. california has yet much to learn about fruit-raising and fruit-curing, but it already knows that to compete with the rest of the world in our markets it must beat the rest of the world in quality. it will take some time yet to remove the unfavorable opinion of california wines produced in the east by the first products of the vineyards sent here. [illustration: date-palm.] the difficulty for the settler is that he cannot "take up" ten acres with water in california as he can 160 acres elsewhere. there is left little available government land. there is plenty of government land not taken up and which may never be occupied, that is, inaccessible mountain and irreclaimable desert. there are also little nooks and fertile spots here and there to be discovered which may be pre-empted, and which will some day have value. but practically all the arable land, or that is likely to become so, is owned now in large tracts, under grants or by wholesale purchase. the circumstances of the case compelled associate effort. such a desert as that now blooming region known as pasadena, pomona, riverside, and so on, could not be subdued by individual exertion. consequently land and water companies were organized. they bought large tracts of unimproved land, built dams in the mountain cañons, sunk wells, drew water from the rivers, made reservoirs, laid pipes, carried ditches and conduits across the country, and then sold the land with the inseparable water right in small parcels. thus the region became subdivided among small holders, each independent, but all mutually dependent as to water, which is the _sine qua non_ of existence. it is only a few years since there was a forlorn and struggling colony a few miles east of los angeles known as the indiana settlement. it had scant water, no railway communication, and everything to learn about horticulture. that spot is now the famous pasadena. what has been done in the santa ana and san gabriel valleys will be done elsewhere in the state. there are places in kern county, north of the sierra madre, where the land produces grain and alfalfa without irrigation, where farms can be bought at from five to ten dollars an acre--land that will undoubtedly increase in value with settlement and also by irrigation. the great county of san diego is practically undeveloped, and contains an immense area, in scattered mesas and valleys, of land which will produce apples, grain, and grass without irrigation, and which the settler can get at moderate prices. nay, more, any one with a little ready money, who goes to southern california expecting to establish himself and willing to work, will be welcomed and aided, and be pretty certain to find some place where he can steadily improve his condition. but the regions about which one hears most, which are already fruit gardens and well sprinkled with rose-clad homes, command prices per acre which seem extravagant. land, however, like a mine, gets its value from what it will produce; and it is to be noted that while the subsidence of the "boom" knocked the value out of twenty-feet city lots staked out in the wilderness, and out of insanely inflated city property, the land upon which crops are raised has steadily appreciated in value. so many conditions enter into the price of land that it is impossible to name an average price for the arable land of the southern counties, but i have heard good judges place it at $100 an acre. the lands, with water, are very much alike in their producing power, but some, for climatic reasons, are better adapted to citrus fruits, others to the raisin grape, and others to deciduous fruits. the value is also affected by railway facilities, contiguity to the local commercial centre, and also by the character of the settlement--that is, by its morality, public spirit, and facilities for education. every town and settlement thinks it has special advantages as to improved irrigation, equability of temperature, adaptation to this or that product, attractions for invalids, tempered ocean breezes, protection from "northers," schools, and varied industries. these things are so much matter of personal choice that each settler will do well to examine widely for himself, and not buy until he is suited. some figures, which may be depended on, of actual sales and of annual yields, may be of service. they are of the district east of pasadena and pomona, but fairly represent the whole region down to los angeles. the selling price of raisin grape land unimproved, but with water, at riverside is $250 to $300 per acre; at south riverside, $150 to $200; in the highland district of san bernardino, and at redlands (which is a new settlement east of the city of san bernardino), $200 to $250 per acre. at banning and at hesperia, which lie north of the san bernardino range, $125 to $150 per acre are the prices asked. distance from the commercial centre accounts for the difference in price in the towns named. the crop varies with the care and skill of the cultivator, but a fair average from the vines at two years is two tons per acre; three years, three tons; four years, five tons; five years, seven tons. the price varies with the season, and also whether its sale is upon the vines, or after picking, drying, and sweating, or the packed product. on the vines $20 per ton is a fair average price. in exceptional cases vineyards at riverside have produced four tons per acre in twenty months from the setting of the cuttings, and six-year-old vines have produced thirteen and a half tons per acre. if the grower has a crop of, say, 2000 packed boxes of raisins of twenty pounds each box, it will pay him to pack his own crop and establish a "brand" for it. in 1889 three adjoining vineyards in riverside, producing about the same average crops, were sold as follows: the first vineyard, at $17 50 per ton on the vines, yielded $150 per acre; the second, at six cents a pound, in the sweat boxes, yielded $276 per acre; the third, at $1 80 per box, packed, yielded $414 per acre. land adapted to the deciduous fruits, such as apricots and peaches, is worth as much as raisin land, and some years pays better. the pear and the apple need greater elevation, and are of better quality when grown on high ground than in the valleys. i have reason to believe that the mountain regions of san diego county are specially adapted to the apple. good orange land unimproved, but with water, is worth from $300 to $500 an acre. if we add to this price the cost of budded trees, the care of them for four years, and interest at eight per cent. per annum for four years, the cost of a good grove will be about $1000 an acre. it must be understood that the profit of an orange grove depends upon care, skill, and business ability. the kind of orange grown with reference to the demand, the judgment about more or less irrigation as affecting the quality, the cultivation of the soil, and the arrangements for marketing, are all elements in the problem. there are young groves at riverside, five years old, that are paying ten per cent. net upon from $3000 to $5000 an acre; while there are older groves, which, at the prices for fruit in the spring of 1890--$1 60 per box for seedlings and $3 per box for navels delivered at the packing-houses--paid at the rate of ten per cent. net on $7500 per acre. in all these estimates water must be reckoned as a prime factor. what, then, is water worth per inch, generally, in all this fruit region from redlands to los angeles? it is worth just the amount it will add to the commercial value of land irrigated by it, and that may be roughly estimated at from $500 to $1000 an inch of continuous flow. take an illustration. a piece of land at riverside below the flow of water was worth $300 an acre. contiguous to it was another piece not irrigated which would not sell for $50 an acre. by bringing water to it, it would quickly sell for $300, thus adding $250 to its value. as the estimate at riverside is that one inch of water will irrigate five acres of fruit land, five times $250 would be $1250 per inch, at which price water for irrigation has actually been sold at riverside. the standard of measurement of water in southern california is the miner's inch under four inches' pressure, or the amount that will flow through an inch-square opening under a pressure of four inches measured from the surface of the water in the conduit to the centre of the opening through which it flows. this is nine gallons a minute, or, as it is figured, 1728 cubic feet or 12,960 gallons in twenty-four hours, and 1.50 of a cubic foot a second. this flow would cover ten acres about eighteen inches deep in a year; that is, it would give the land the equivalent of eighteen inches of rain, distributed exactly when and where it was needed, none being wasted, and more serviceable than fifty inches of rainfall as it generally comes. this, with the natural rainfall, is sufficient for citrus fruits and for corn and alfalfa, in soil not too sandy, and it is too much for grapes and all deciduous fruits. chapter ix. the advantages of irrigation. it is necessary to understand this problem of irrigation in order to comprehend southern california, the exceptional value of its arable land, the certainty and great variety of its products, and the part it is to play in our markets. there are three factors in the expectation of a crop--soil, sunshine, and water. in a region where we can assume the first two to be constant, the only uncertainty is water. southern california is practically without rain from may to december. upon this fact rests the immense value of its soil, and the certainty that it can supply the rest of the union with a great variety of products. this certainty must be purchased by a previous investment of money. water is everywhere to be had for money, in some localities by surface wells, in others by artesian-wells, in others from such streams as the los angeles and the santa ana, and from reservoirs secured by dams in the heart of the high mountains. it is possible to compute the cost of any one of the systems of irrigation, to determine whether it will pay by calculating the amount of land it will irrigate. the cost of procuring water varies greatly with the situation, and it is conceivable that money can be lost in such an investment, but i have yet to hear of any irrigation that has not been more or less successful. farming and fruit-raising are usually games of hazard. good crops and poor crops depend upon enough rain and not too much at just the right times. a wheat field which has a good start with moderate rain may later wither in a drought, or be ruined by too much water at the time of maturity. and, avoiding all serious reverses from either dryness or wet, every farmer knows that the quality and quantity of the product would be immensely improved if the growing stalks and roots could have water when and only when they need it. the difference would be between, say, twenty and forty bushels of grain or roots to the acre, and that means the difference between profit and loss. there is probably not a crop of any kind grown in the great west that would not be immensely benefited if it could be irrigated once or twice a year; and probably anywhere that water is attainable the cost of irrigation would be abundantly paid in the yield from year to year. farming in the west with even a little irrigation would not be the game of hazard that it is. and it may further be assumed that there is not a vegetable patch or a fruit orchard east or west that would not yield better quality and more abundantly with irrigation. [illustration: raisin-curing.] but this is not all. any farmer who attempts to raise grass and potatoes and strawberries on contiguous fields, subject to the same chance of drought or rainfall, has a vivid sense of his difficulties. the potatoes are spoiled by the water that helps the grass, and the coquettish strawberry will not thrive on the regimen that suits the grosser crops. in california, which by its climate and soil gives a greater variety of products than any other region in the union, the supply of water is adjusted to the needs of each crop, even on contiguous fields. no two products need the same amount of water, or need it at the same time. the orange needs more than the grape, the alfalfa more than the orange, the peach and apricot less than the orange; the olive, the fig, the almond, the english walnut, demand each a different supply. depending entirely on irrigation six months of the year, the farmer in southern california is practically certain of his crop year after year; and if all his plants and trees are in a healthful condition, as they will be if he is not too idle to cultivate as well as irrigate, his yield will be about double what it would be without systematic irrigation. it is this practical control of the water the year round, in a climate where sunshine is the rule, that makes the productiveness of california so large as to be incomprehensible to eastern people. even the trees are not dormant more than three or four months in the year. but irrigation, in order to be successful, must be intelligently applied. in unskilful hands it may work more damage than benefit. mr. theodore s. van dyke, who may always be quoted with confidence, says that the ground should never be flooded; that water must not touch the plant or tree, or come near enough to make the soil bake around it; and that it should be let in in small streams for two or three days, and not in large streams for a few hours. it is of the first importance that the ground shall be stirred as soon as dry enough, the cultivation to be continued, and water never to be substituted for the cultivator to prevent baking. the methods of irrigation in use may be reduced to three. first, the old mexican way--running a small ditch from tree to tree, without any basin round the tree. second, the basin system, where a large basin is made round the tree, and filled several times. this should only be used where water is scarce, for it trains the roots like a brush, instead of sending them out laterally into the soil. third, the riverside method, which is the best in the world, and produces the largest results with the least water and the least work. it is the closest imitation of the natural process of wetting by gentle rain. "a small flume, eight or ten inches square, of common red-wood is laid along the upper side of a ten-acre tract. at intervals of one to three feet, according to the nature of the ground and the stuff to be irrigated, are bored one-inch holes, with a small wooden button over them to regulate the flow. this flume costs a trifle, is left in position, lasts for years, and is always ready. into this flume is turned from the ditch an irrigating head of 20, 25, or 30 inches of water, generally about 20 inches. this is divided by the holes and the buttons into streams of from one-sixth to one-tenth of an inch each, making from 120 to 200 small streams. from five to seven furrows are made between two rows of trees, two between rows of grapes, one furrow between rows of corn, potatoes, etc. it may take from fifteen to twenty hours for one of the streams to get across the tract. they are allowed to run from forty-eight to seventy-two hours. the ground is then thoroughly wet in all directions, and three or four feet deep. as soon as the ground is dry enough cultivation is begun, and kept up from six to eight weeks before water is used again." only when the ground is very sandy is the basin system necessary. long experiment has taught that this system is by far the best; and, says mr. van dyke, "those whose ideas are taken from the wasteful systems of flooding or soaking from big ditches have something to learn in southern california." as to the quantity of water needed in the kind of soil most common in southern california i will again quote mr. van dyke: "they will tell you at riverside that they use an inch of water to five acres, and some say an inch to three acres. but this is because they charge to the land all the waste on the main ditch, and because they use thirty per cent. of the water in july and august, when it is the lowest. but this is no test of the duty of water; the amount actually delivered on the land should be taken. what they actually use for ten acres at riverside, redlands, etc., is a twenty-inch stream of three days' run five times a year, equal to 300 inches for one day, or one inch steady run for 300 days. as an inch is the equivalent of 365 inches for one day, or one inch for 365 days, 300 inches for one day equals an inch to twelve acres. many use even less than this, running the water only two or two and a half days at a time. others use more head; but it rarely exceeds 24 inches for three days and five times a year, which would be 72 multiplied by 5, or 360 inches--a little less than a full inch for a year for ten acres." [illustration: irrigation by artesian-well system.] [illustration: irrigation by pipe system.] i have given room to these details because the riverside experiment, which results in such large returns of excellent fruit, is worthy of the attention of cultivators everywhere. the constant stirring of the soil, to keep it loose as well as to keep down useless growths, is second in importance only to irrigation. some years ago, when it was ascertained that tracts of land which had been regarded as only fit for herding cattle and sheep would by good ploughing and constant cultivation produce fair crops without any artificial watering, there spread abroad a notion that irrigation could be dispensed with. there are large areas, dry and cracked on the surface, where the soil is moist three and four feet below the surface in the dry season. by keeping the surface broken and well pulverized the moisture rises sufficiently to insure a crop. many western farmers have found out this secret of cultivation, and more will learn in time the good sense of not spreading themselves over too large an area; that forty acres planted and cultivated will give a better return than eighty acres planted and neglected. crops of various sorts are raised in southern california by careful cultivation with little or no irrigation, but the idea that cultivation alone will bring sufficiently good production is now practically abandoned, and the almost universal experience is that judicious irrigation always improves the crop in quality and in quantity, and that irrigation and cultivation are both essential to profitable farming or fruit-raising. chapter x. the chance for laborers and small farmers. it would seem, then, that capital is necessary for successful agriculture or horticulture in southern california. but where is it not needed? in new england? in kansas, where land which was given to actual settlers is covered with mortgages for money absolutely necessary to develop it? but passing this by, what is the chance in southern california for laborers and for mechanics? let us understand the situation. in california there is no exception to the rule that continual labor, thrift, and foresight are essential to the getting of a good living or the gaining of a competence. no doubt speculation will spring up again. it is inevitable with the present enormous and yearly increasing yield of fruits, the better intelligence in vine culture, wine-making, and raisin-curing, the growth of marketable oranges, lemons, etc., and the consequent rise in the value of land. doubtless fortunes will be made by enterprising companies who secure large areas of unimproved land at low prices, bring water on them, and then sell in small lots. but this will come to an end. the tendency is to subdivide the land into small holdings--into farms and gardens of ten and twenty acres. the great ranches are sure to be broken up. with the resulting settlement by industrious people the cities will again experience "booms;" but these are not peculiar to california. in my mind i see the time when this region (because it will pay better proportionally to cultivate a small area) will be one of small farms, of neat cottages, of industrious homes. the owner is pretty certain to prosper--that is, to get a good living (which is independence), and lay aside a little yearly--if the work is done by himself and his family. and the peculiarity of the situation is that the farm or garden, whichever it is called, will give agreeable and most healthful occupation to all the boys and girls in the family all the days in the year that can be spared from the school. aside from the ploughing, the labor is light. pruning, grafting, budding, the picking of the grapes, the gathering of the fruit from the trees, the sorting, packing, and canning, are labor for light and deft hands, and labor distributed through the year. the harvest, of one sort and another, is almost continuous, so that young girls and boys can have, in well-settled districts, pretty steady employment--a long season in establishments packing oranges; at another time, in canning fruits; at another, in packing raisins. it goes without saying that in the industries now developed, and in others as important which are in their infancy (for instance, the culture of the olive for oil and as an article of food; the growth and curing of figs; the gathering of almonds, english walnuts, etc.), the labor of the owners of the land and their families will not suffice. there must be as large a proportion of day-laborers as there are in other regions where such products are grown. chinese labor at certain seasons has been a necessity. under the present policy of california this must diminish, and its place be taken by some other. the pay for this labor has always been good. it is certain to be more and more in demand. whether the pay will ever approach near to the european standard is a question, but it is a fair presumption that the exceptional profit of the land, owing to its productiveness, will for a long time keep wages up. during the "boom" period all wages were high, those of skilled mechanics especially, owing to the great amount of building on speculation. the ordinary laborer on a ranch had $30 a month and board and lodging; laborers of a higher grade, $2 to $2 50 a day; skilled masons, $6; carpenters, from $3 50 to $5; plasterers, $4 to $5; house-servants, from $23 to $33 a month. since the "boom," wages of skilled mechanics have declined at least 25 per cent., and there has been less demand for labor generally, except in connection with fruit raising and harvesting. it would be unwise for laborers to go to california on an uncertainty, but it can be said of that country with more confidence than of any other section that its peculiar industries, now daily increasing, will absorb an increasing amount of day labor, and later on it will remunerate skilled artisan labor. in deciding whether southern california would be an agreeable place of residence there are other things to be considered besides the productiveness of the soil, the variety of products, the ease of out-door labor distributed through the year, the certainty of returns for intelligent investment with labor, the equability of summer and winter, and the adaptation to personal health. there are always disadvantages attending the development of a new country and the evolution of a new society. it is not a small thing, and may be one of daily discontent, the change from a landscape clad with verdure, the riotous and irrepressible growth of a rainy region, to a land that the greater part of the year is green only where it is artificially watered, where all the hills and unwatered plains are brown and sere, where the foliage is coated with dust, and where driving anywhere outside the sprinkled avenues of a town is to be enveloped in a cloud of powdered earth. this discomfort must be weighed against the commercial advantages of a land of irrigation. [illustration: garden scene, santa ana.] what are the chances for a family of very moderate means to obtain a foothold and thrive by farming in southern california? i cannot answer this better than by giving substantially the experience of one family, and by saying that this has been paralleled, with change of details, by many others. of course, in a highly developed settlement, where the land is mostly cultivated, and its actual yearly produce makes its price very high, it is not easy to get a foothold. but there are many regions--say in orange county, and certainly in san diego--where land can be had at a moderate price and on easy terms of payment. indeed, there are few places, as i have said, where an industrious family would not find welcome and cordial help in establishing itself. and it must be remembered that there are many communities where life is very simple, and the great expense of keeping up an appearance attending life elsewhere need not be reckoned. a few years ago a professional man in a new england city, who was in delicate health, with his wife and five boys, all under sixteen, and one too young to be of any service, moved to san diego. he had in money a small sum, less than a thousand dollars. he had no experience in farming or horticulture, and his health would not have permitted him to do much field work in our climate. fortunately he found in the fertile el cajon valley, fifteen miles from san diego, a farmer and fruit-grower, who had upon his place a small unoccupied house. into that house he moved, furnishing it very simply with furniture bought in san diego, and hired his services to the landlord. the work required was comparatively easy, in the orchard and vineyards, and consisted largely in superintending other laborers. the pay was about enough to support his family without encroaching on his little capital. very soon, however, he made an arrangement to buy the small house and tract of some twenty acres on which he lived, on time, perhaps making a partial payment. he began at once to put out an orange orchard and plant a vineyard; this he accomplished with the assistance of his boys, who did practically most of the work after the first planting, leaving him a chance to give most of his days to his employer. the orchard and vineyard work is so light that a smart, intelligent boy is almost as valuable a worker in the field as a man. the wife, meantime, kept the house and did its work. house-keeping was comparatively easy; little fuel was required except for cooking; the question of clothes was a minor one. in that climate wants for a fairly comfortable existence are fewer than with us. from the first, almost, vegetables, raised upon the ground while the vines and oranges were growing, contributed largely to the support of the family. the out-door life and freedom from worry insured better health, and the diet of fruit and vegetables, suitable to the climate, reduced the cost of living to a minimum. as soon as the orchard and the vineyard began to produce fruit, the owner was enabled to quit working for his neighbor, and give all his time to the development of his own place. he increased his planting; he added to his house; he bought a piece of land adjoining which had a grove of eucalyptus, which would supply him with fuel. at first the society circle was small, and there was no school; but the incoming of families had increased the number of children, so that an excellent public school was established. when i saw him he was living in conditions of comfortable industry; his land had trebled in value; the pair of horses which he drove he had bought cheap, for they were eastern horses; but the climate had brought them up, so that the team was a serviceable one in good condition. the story is not one of brilliant success, but to me it is much more hopeful for the country than the other tales i heard of sudden wealth or lucky speculation. it is the founding in an unambitious way of a comfortable home. the boys of the family will branch out, get fields, orchards, vineyards of their own, and add to the solid producing industry of the country. this orderly, contented industry, increasing its gains day by day, little by little, is the life and hope of any state. chapter xi. some details of the wonderful development. it is not the purpose of this volume to describe southern california. that has been thoroughly done; and details, with figures and pictures in regard to every town and settlement, will be forthcoming on application, which will be helpful guides to persons who can see for themselves, or make sufficient allowance for local enthusiasm. but before speaking further of certain industries south of the great mountain ranges, the region north of the sierra madre, which is allied to southern california by its productions, should be mentioned. the beautiful antelope plains and the kern valley (where land is still cheap and very productive) should not be overlooked. the splendid san joaquin valley is already speaking loudly and clearly for itself. the region north of the mountains of kern county, shut in by the sierra nevada range on the east and the coast range on the west, substantially one valley, fifty to sixty miles in breadth, watered by the king and the san joaquin, and gently sloping to the north, say for two hundred miles, is a land of marvellous capacity, capable of sustaining a dense population. it is cooler in winter than southern california, and the summers average much warmer. owing to the greater heat, the fruits mature sooner. it is just now becoming celebrated for its raisins, which in quality are unexcelled; and its area, which can be well irrigated from the rivers and from the mountains on either side, seems capable of producing raisins enough to supply the world. it is a wonderfully rich valley in a great variety of products. fresno county, which occupies the centre of this valley, has 1,200,000 acres of agricultural and 4,400,000 of mountain and pasture land. the city of fresno, which occupies land that in 1870 was a sheep ranch, is the commercial centre of a beautiful agricultural and fruit region, and has a population estimated at 12,000. from this centre were shipped in the season of 1890, 1500 car-loads of raisins. in 1865 the only exports of fresno county were a few bales of wool. the report of 1889 gave a shipment of 700,000 boxes of raisins, and the whole export of 1890, of all products, was estimated at $10,000,000. whether these figures are exact or not, there is no doubt of the extraordinary success of the raisin industry, nor that this is a region of great activity and promise. the traveller has constantly to remind himself that this is a new country, and to be judged as a new country. it is out of his experience that trees can grow so fast, and plantations in so short a time put on an appearance of maturity. when he sees a roomy, pretty cottage overrun with vines and flowering plants, set in the midst of trees and lawns and gardens of tropical appearance and luxuriance, he can hardly believe that three years before this spot was desert land. when he looks over miles of vineyards, of groves of oranges, olives, walnuts, prunes, the trees all in vigorous bearing, he cannot believe that five or ten years before the whole region was a waste. when he enters a handsome village, with substantial buildings of brick, and perhaps of stone, with fine school-houses, banks, hotels, an opera-house, large packing-houses, and warehouses and shops of all sorts, with tasteful dwellings and lovely ornamented lawns, it is hard to understand that all this is the creation of two or three years. yet these surprises meet the traveller at every turn, and the wonder is that there is not visible more crudeness, eccentric taste, and evidence of hasty beginnings. [illustration: a grape-vine, montecito valley, santa barbara.] san bernardino is comparatively an old town. it was settled in 1853 by a colony of mormons from salt lake. the remains of this colony, less than a hundred, still live here, and have a church like the other sects, but they call themselves josephites, and do not practise polygamy. there is probably not a sect or schism in the united states that has not its representative in california. until 1865 san bernardino was merely a straggling settlement, and a point of distribution for arizona. the discovery that a large part of the county was adapted to the orange and the vine, and the advent of the santa fé railway, changed all that. land that then might have been bought for $4 an acre is now sold at from $200 to $300, and the city has become the busy commercial centre of a large number of growing villages, and of one of the most remarkable orange and vine districts in the world. it has many fine buildings, a population of about 6000, and a decided air of vigorous business. the great plain about it is mainly devoted to agricultural products, which are grown without irrigation, while in the near foot-hills the orange and the vine flourish by the aid of irrigation. artesian-wells abound in the san bernardino plain, but the mountains are the great and unfailing source of water supply. the bear valley dam is a most daring and gigantic construction. a solid wall of masonry, 300 feet long and 60 feet high, curving towards the reservoir, creates an inland lake in the mountains holding water enough to irrigate 20,000 acres of land. this is conveyed to distributing reservoirs in the east end of the valley. on a terrace in the foot-hills a few miles to the north, 2000 feet above the sea, are the arrow-head hot springs (named from the figure of a gigantic "arrow-head" on the mountain above), already a favorite resort for health and pleasure. the views from the plain of the picturesque foot-hills and the snow-peaks of the san bernardino range are exceedingly fine. the marvellous beauty of the purple and deep violet of the giant hills at sunset, with spotless snow, lingers in the memory. perhaps the settlement of redlands, ten miles by rail east of san bernardino, is as good an illustration as any of rapid development and great promise. it is devoted to the orange and the grape. as late as 1875 much of it was government land, considered valueless. it had a few settlers, but the town, which counts now about 2000 people, was only begun in 1887. it has many solid brick edifices and many pretty cottages on its gentle slopes and rounded hills, overlooked by the great mountains. the view from any point of vantage of orchards and vineyards and semi-tropical gardens, with the wide sky-line of noble and snow-clad hills, is exceedingly attractive. the region is watered by the santa ana river and mill creek, but the main irrigating streams, which make every hill-top to bloom with vegetation, come from the bear valley reservoir. on a hill to the south of the town the smiley brothers, of catskill fame, are building fine residences, and planting their 125 acres with fruit-trees and vines, evergreens, flowers, and semi-tropic shrubbery in a style of landscape-gardening that in three years at the furthest will make this spot one of the few great showplaces of the country. behind their ridge is the san mateo cañon, through which the southern pacific railway runs, while in front are the splendid sloping plains, valleys, and orange groves, and the great sweep of mountains from san jacinto round to the sierra madre range. it is almost a matchless prospect. the climate is most agreeable, the plantations increase month by month, and thus far the orange-trees have not been visited by the scale, nor the vines by any sickness. although the groves are still young, there were shipped from redlands in the season of 1889-90 80 car-loads of oranges, of 286 boxes to the car, at a price averaging nearly $1000 a car. that season's planting of oranges was over 1200 acres. it had over 5000 acres in fruits, of which nearly 3000 were in peaches, apricots, grapes, and other sorts called deciduous. riverside may without prejudice be regarded as the centre of the orange growth and trade. the railway shipments of oranges from southern california in the season of 1890 aggregated about 2400 car-loads, or about 800,000 boxes, of oranges (in which estimate the lemons are included), valued at about $1,500,000. of this shipment more than half was from riverside. this has been, of course, greatly stimulated by the improved railroad facilities, among them the shortening of the time to chicago by the santa fé route, and the running of special fruit trains. southern california responds like magic to this chance to send her fruits to the east, and the area planted month by month is something enormous. it is estimated that the crop of oranges alone in 1891 will be over 4500 car-loads. we are accustomed to discount all california estimates, but i think that no one yet has comprehended the amount to which the shipments to eastern markets of vegetables and fresh and canned fruits will reach within five years. i base my prediction upon some observation of the eastern demand and the reports of fruit-dealers, upon what i saw of the new planting all over the state in 1890, and upon the statistics of increase. take riverside as an example. in 1872 it was a poor sheep ranch. in 1880-81 it shipped 15 car-loads, or 4290 boxes, of oranges; the amount yearly increased, until in 1888-89 it was 925 car-loads, or 263,879 boxes. in 1890 it rose to 1253 car-loads, or 358,341 boxes; and an important fact is that the largest shipment was in april (455 car-loads, or 130,226 boxes), at the time when the supply from other orange regions for the markets east had nearly ceased. [illustration: irrigating an orchard.] it should be said, also, that the quality of the oranges has vastly improved. this is owing to better cultivation, knowledge of proper irrigation, and the adoption of the best varieties for the soil. as different sorts of oranges mature at different seasons, a variety is needed to give edible fruit in each month from december to may inclusive. in february, 1887, i could not find an orange of the first class compared with the best fruit in other regions. it may have been too early for the varieties i tried; but i believe there has been a marked improvement in quality. in may, 1890, we found delicious oranges almost everywhere. the seedless washington and australian navels are favorites, especially for the market, on account of their great size and fine color. when in perfection they are very fine, but the skin is thick and the texture coarser than that of some others. the best orange i happened to taste was a tahiti seedling at montecito (santa barbara). it is a small orange, with a thin skin and a compact, sweet pulp that leaves little fibre. it resembles the famous orange of malta. but there are many excellent varieties--the mediterranean sweet, the paper rind st. michael, the maltese blood, etc. the experiments with seedlings are profitable, and will give ever new varieties. i noted that the "grape fruit," which is becoming so much liked in the east, is not appreciated in california. [illustration: orange culture. packing oranges--navel orange-tree six years old--irrigating an orange grove.] the city of riverside occupies an area of some five miles by three, and claims to have 6000 inhabitants; the centre is a substantial town with fine school and other public buildings, but the region is one succession of orange groves and vineyards, of comfortable houses and broad avenues. one avenue through which we drove is 125 feet wide and 12 miles long, planted in three rows with palms, magnolias, the _grevillea robusta_ (australian fern), the pepper, and the eucalyptus, and lined all the way by splendid orange groves, in the midst of which are houses and grounds with semi-tropical attractions. nothing could be lovelier than such a scene of fruits and flowers, with the background of purple hills and snowy peaks. the mountain views are superb. frost is a rare visitor. not in fifteen years has there been enough to affect the orange. there is little rain after march, but there are fogs and dew-falls, and the ocean breeze is felt daily. the grape grown for raisins is the muscat, and this has had no "sickness." vigilance and a quarantine have also kept from the orange the scale which has been so annoying in some other localities. the orange, when cared for, is a generous bearer; some trees produce twenty boxes each, and there are areas of twenty acres in good bearing which have brought to the owner as much as $10,000 a year. the whole region of the santa ana and san gabriel valleys, from the desert on the east to los angeles, the city of gardens, is a surprise, and year by year an increasing wonder. in production it exhausts the catalogue of fruits and flowers; its scenery is varied by ever new combinations of the picturesque and the luxuriant; every town boasts some special advantage in climate, soil, water, or society; but these differences, many of them visible to the eye, cannot appear in any written description. the traveller may prefer the scenery of pasadena, or that of pomona, or of riverside, but the same words in regard to color, fertility, combinations of orchards, avenues, hills, must appear in the description of each. ontario, pomona, puente, alhambra--wherever one goes there is the same wonder of color and production. pomona is a pleasant city in the midst of fine orange groves, watered abundantly by artesian-wells and irrigating ditches from a mountain reservoir. a specimen of the ancient adobe residence is on the meserve plantation, a lovely old place, with its gardens of cherries, strawberries, olives, and oranges. from the top of san josé hill we had a view of a plain twenty-five miles by fifty in extent, dotted with cultivation, surrounded by mountains--a wonderful prospect. pomona, like its sister cities in this region, has a regard for the intellectual side of life, exhibited in good school-houses and public libraries. in the library of pomona is what may be regarded as the tutelary deity of the place--the goddess pomona, a good copy in marble of the famous statue in the uffizi gallery, presented to the city by the rev. c. f. loop. this enterprising citizen is making valuable experiments in olive culture, raising a dozen varieties in order to ascertain which is best adapted to this soil, and which will make the best return in oil and in a marketable product of cured fruit for the table. the growth of the olive is to be, it seems to me, one of the leading and most permanent industries of southern california. it will give us, what it is nearly impossible to buy now, pure olive oil, in place of the cotton-seed and lard mixture in general use. it is a most wholesome and palatable article of food. those whose chief experience of the olive is the large, coarse, and not agreeable spanish variety, used only as an appetizer, know little of the value of the best varieties as food, nutritious as meat, and always delicious. good bread and a dish of pickled olives make an excellent meal. the sort known as the mission olive, planted by the franciscans a century ago, is generally grown now, and the best fruit is from the older trees. the most successful attempts in cultivating the olive and putting it on the market have been made by mr. f. a. kimball, of national city, and mr. ellwood cooper, of santa barbara. the experiments have gone far enough to show that the industry is very remunerative. the best olive oil i have ever tasted anywhere is that produced from the cooper and the kimball orchards; but not enough is produced to supply the local demand. mr. cooper has written a careful treatise on olive culture, which will be of great service to all growers. the art of pickling is not yet mastered, and perhaps some other variety will be preferred to the old mission for the table. a mature olive grove in good bearing is a fortune. i feel sure that within twenty-five years this will be one of the most profitable industries of california, and that the demand for pure oil and edible fruit in the united states will drive out the adulterated and inferior present commercial products. but california can easily ruin its reputation by adopting the european systems of adulteration. [illustration: in a field of golden pumpkins.] we drove one day from arcadia station through the region occupied by the baldwin plantations, an area of over fifty thousand acres--a happy illustration of what industry and capital can do in the way of variety of productions, especially in what are called the san anita vineyards and orchards, extending southward from the foot-hills. about the home place and in many sections where the irrigating streams flow one might fancy he was in the tropics, so abundant and brilliant are the flowers and exotic plants. there are splendid orchards of oranges, almonds, english walnuts, lemons, peaches, apricots, figs, apples, and olives, with grain and corn--in short, everything that grows in garden or field. the ranch is famous for its brandies and wines as well as fruits. we lunched at the east san gabriel hotel, a charming place with a peaceful view from the wide veranda of live-oaks, orchards, vineyards, and the noble sierra madre range. the californians may be excused for using the term paradisiacal about such scenes. flowers, flowers everywhere, color on color, and the song of the mocking-bird! chapter xii. how the fruit perils were met.--further details of localities. in the san gabriel valley and elsewhere i saw evidence of the perils that attend the culture of the vine and the fruit-tree in all other countries, and from which california in the early days thought it was exempt. within the past three or four years there has prevailed a sickness of the vine, the cause of which is unknown, and for which no remedy has been discovered. no blight was apparent, but the vine sickened and failed. the disease was called consumption of the vine. i saw many vineyards subject to it, and hundreds of acres of old vines had been rooted up as useless. i was told by a fruit-buyer in los angeles that he thought the raisin industry below fresno was ended unless new planting recovered the vines, and that the great wine fields were about "played out." the truth i believe to be that the disease is confined to the vineyards of old mission grapes. whether these had attained the limit of their active life, and sickened, i do not know. the trouble for a time was alarming; but new plantings of other varieties of grapes have been successful, the vineyards look healthful, and the growers expect no further difficulty. the planting, which was for a time suspended, has been more vigorously renewed. the insect pests attacking the orange were even more serious, and in 1887-88, though little was published about it, there was something like a panic, in the fear that the orange and lemon culture in southern california would be a failure. the enemies were the black, the red, and the white scale. the latter, the _icerya purchasi_, or cottony cushion scale, was especially loathsome and destructive; whole orchards were enfeebled, and no way was discovered of staying its progress, which threatened also the olive and every other tree, shrub, and flower. science was called on to discover its parasite. this was found to be the australian lady-bug (_vedolia cardinalis_), and in 1888-89 quantities of this insect were imported and spread throughout los angeles county, and sent to santa barbara and other afflicted districts. the effect was magical. the _vedolia_ attacked the cottony scale with intense vigor, and everywhere killed it. the orchards revived as if they had been recreated, and the danger was over. the enemies of the black and the red scale have not yet been discovered, but they probably will be. meantime the growers have recovered courage, and are fertilizing and fumigating. in santa ana i found that the red scale was fought successfully by fumigating the trees. the operation is performed at night under a movable tent, which covers the tree. the cost is about twenty cents a tree. one lesson of all this is that trees must be fed in order to be kept vigorous to resist such attacks, and that fruit-raising, considering the number of enemies that all fruits have in all climates, is not an idle occupation. the clean, handsome english walnut is about the only tree in the state that thus far has no enemy. one cannot take anywhere else a more exhilarating, delightful drive than about the rolling, highly cultivated, many-villaed pasadena, and out to the foot-hills and the sierra madre villa. he is constantly exclaiming at the varied loveliness of the scene--oranges, palms, formal gardens, hedges of monterey cypress. it is very italy-like. the sierra madre furnishes abundant water for all the valley, and the swift irrigating stream from eaton cañon waters the sierra madre villa. among the peaks above it rises mt. wilson, a thousand feet above the plain, the site selected for the harvard observatory with its 40-inch glass. the clearness of the air at this elevation, and the absence of clouds night and day the greater portion of the year, make this a most advantageous position, it is said, to use the glass in dissolving nebulæ. the sierra madre villa, once the most favorite resort in this region, was closed. in its sheltered situation, its luxuriant and half-neglected gardens, its wide plantations and irrigating streams, it reminds one of some secularized monastery on the promontory of sorrento. it only needs good management to make the hotel very attractive and especially agreeable in the months of winter. [illustration: packing cherries, pomona.] pasadena, which exhibits everywhere evidences of wealth and culture, and claims a permanent population of 12,000, has the air of a winter resort; the great hotel raymond is closed in may, the boarding-houses want occupants, the shops and livery-stables customers, and the streets lack movement. this is easily explained. it is not because pasadena is not an agreeable summer residence, but because the visitors are drawn there in the winter principally to escape the inclement climate of the north and east, and because special efforts have been made for their entertainment in the winter. we found the atmosphere delightful in the middle of may. the mean summer heat is 67°, and the nights are always cool. the hills near by may be resorted to with the certainty of finding as decided a change as one desires in the summer season. i must repeat that the southern california summer is not at all understood in the east. the statement of the general equability of the temperature the year through must be insisted on. we lunched one day in a typical california house, in the midst of a garden of fruits, flowers, and tropical shrubs; in a house that might be described as half roses and half tent, for added to the wooden structure were rooms of canvas, which are used as sleeping apartments winter and summer. this attractive region, so lovely in its cultivation, with so many charming drives, offering good shooting on the plains and in the hills, and centrally placed for excursions, is only eight miles from the busy city of los angeles. an excellent point of view of the country is from the graded hill on which stands the raymond hotel, a hill isolated but easy of access, which is in itself a mountain of bloom, color, and fragrance. from all the broad verandas and from every window the prospect is charming, whether the eye rests upon cultivated orchards and gardens and pretty villas, or upon the purple foot-hills and the snowy ranges. it enjoys a daily ocean breeze, and the air is always exhilarating. this noble hill is a study in landscape-gardening. it is a mass of brilliant color, and the hospitality of the region generally to foreign growths may be estimated by the trees acclimated on these slopes. they are the pepper, eucalyptus, pine, cypress, sycamore, red-wood, olive, date and fan palms, banana, pomegranate, guava, japanese persimmon, umbrella, maple, elm, locust, english walnut, birch, ailantus, poplar, willow, and more ornamental shrubs than one can well name. i can indulge in few locality details except those which are illustrative of the general character of the country. in passing into orange county, which was recently set off from los angeles, we come into a region of less "fashion," but one that for many reasons is attractive to people of moderate means who are content with independent simplicity. the country about the thriving village of santa ana is very rich, being abundantly watered by the santa ana river and by artesian-wells. the town is nine miles from the ocean. on the ocean side the land is mainly agricultural; on the inland side it is specially adapted to fruit. we drove about it, and in tustin city, which has many pleasant residences and a vacant "boom" hotel, through endless plantations of oranges. on the road towards los angeles we passed large herds of cattle and sheep, and fine groves of the english walnut, which thrives especially well in this soil and the neighborhood of the sea. there is comparatively little waste land in this valley district, as one may see by driving through the country about santa ana, orange, anaheim, tustin city, etc. anaheim is a prosperous german colony. it was here that madame modjeska and her husband, count bozenta, first settled in california. they own and occupy now a picturesque ranch in the santiago cañon of the santa ana range, twenty-two miles from santa ana. this is one of the richest regions in the state, and with its fair quota of working population, it will be one of the most productive. from newport, on the coast, or from san pedro, one may visit the island of santa catalina. want of time prevented our going there. sportsmen enjoy there the exciting pastime of hunting the wild goat. from the photographs i saw, and from all i heard of it, it must be as picturesque a resort in natural beauty as the british channel islands. los angeles is the metropolitan centre of all this region. a handsome, solid, thriving city, environed by gardens, gay everywhere with flowers, it is too well known to require any description from me. to the traveller from the east it will always be a surprise. its growth has been phenomenal, and although it may not equal the expectations of the crazy excitement of 1886-87, 50,000 people is a great assemblage for a new city which numbered only about 11,000 in 1880. it of course felt the subsidence of the "boom," but while i missed the feverish crowds of 1887, i was struck with its substantial progress in fine, solid buildings, pavements, sewerage, railways, educational facilities, and ornamental grounds. it has a secure hold on the commerce of the region. the assessment roll of the city increased from $7,627,632 in 1881 to $44,871,073 in 1889. its bank business, public buildings, school-houses, and street improvements are in accord with this increase, and show solid, vigorous growth. it is altogether an attractive city, whether seen on a drive through its well-planted and bright avenues, or looked down on from the hills which are climbed by the cable roads. a curious social note was the effect of the "boom" excitement upon the birth rate. the report of children under the age of one year was in 1887, 271 boy babies and 264 girl babies; from 1887 to 1888 there were only 176 boy babies and 162 girl babies. the return at the end of 1889 was 465 boy babies, and 500 girl babies. [illustration: olive-trees six years old.] although los angeles county still produces a considerable quantity of wine and brandy, i have an impression that the raising of raisins will supplant wine-making largely in southern california, and that the principal wine producing will be in the northern portions of the state. it is certain that the best quality is grown in the foot-hills. the reputation of "california wines" has been much injured by placing upon the market crude juice that was in no sense wine. great improvement has been made in the past three to five years, not only in the vine and knowledge of the soil adapted to it, but in the handling and the curing of the wine. one can now find without much difficulty excellent table wines--sound claret, good white reisling, and sauterne. none of these wines are exactly like the foreign wines, and it may be some time before the taste accustomed to foreign wines is educated to like them. but in eastern markets some of the best brands are already much called for, and i think it only a question of time and a little more experience when the best california wines will be popular. i found in the san francisco market excellent red wines at $3.50 the case, and what was still more remarkable, at some of the best hotels sound, agreeable claret at from fifteen to twenty cents the pint bottle. it is quite unnecessary to emphasize the attractions of santa barbara, or the productiveness of the valleys in the counties of santa barbara and ventura. there is no more poetic region on the continent than the bay south of point conception, and the pen and the camera have made the world tolerably familiar with it. there is a graciousness, a softness, a color in the sea, the cañons, the mountains there that dwell in the memory. it is capable of inspiring the same love that the greek colonists felt for the region between the bays of salerno and naples. it is as fruitful as the italian shores, and can support as dense a population. the figures that have been given as to productiveness and variety of productions apply to it. having more winter rainfall than the counties south of it, agriculture is profitable in most years. since the railway was made down the valley of the santa clara river and along the coast to santa barbara, a great impulse has been given to farming. orange and other fruit orchards have increased. near buenaventura i saw hundreds of acres of lima beans. the yield is about one ton to the acre. with good farming the valleys yield crops of corn, barley, and wheat much above the average. still it is a fruit region, and no variety has yet been tried that does not produce very well there. the rapid growth of all trees has enabled the region to demonstrate in a short time that there is scarcely any that it cannot naturalize. the curious growths of tropical lands, the trees of aromatic and medicinal gums, the trees of exquisite foliage and wealth of fragrant blossoms, the sturdy forest natives, and the bearers of edible nuts are all to be found in the gardens and by the road-side, from new england, from the southern states, from europe, from north and south africa, southern asia, china, japan, from australia and new zealand and south america. the region is an arboreal and botanical garden on an immense scale, and full of surprises. the floriculture is even more astonishing. every land is represented. the profusion and vigor are as wonderful as the variety. at a flower show in santa barbara were exhibited 160 varieties of roses all cut from one garden the same morning. the open garden rivals the eastern conservatory. the country is new and many of the conditions of life may be primitive and rude, but it is impossible that any region shall not be beautiful, clothed with such a profusion of bloom and color. i have spoken of the rapid growth. the practical advantage of this as to fruit-trees is that one begins to have an income from them here sooner than in the east. no one need be under the delusion that he can live in california without work, or thrive without incessant and intelligent industry, but the distinction of the country for the fruit-grower is the rapidity with which trees and vines mature to the extent of being profitable. but nothing thrives without care, and kindly as the climate is to the weak, it cannot be too much insisted on that this is no place for confirmed invalids who have not money enough to live without work. chapter xiii. the advance of cultivation southward. the immense county of san diego is on the threshold of its development. it has comparatively only spots of cultivation here and there, in an area on the western slope of the county only, that mr. van dyke estimates to contain about one million acres of good arable land for farming and fruit-raising. this mountainous region is full of charming valleys, and hidden among the hills are fruitful nooks capable of sustaining thriving communities. there is no doubt about the salubrity of the climate, and one can literally suit himself as to temperature by choosing his elevation. the traveller by rail down the wild temecula cañon will have some idea of the picturesqueness of the country, and, as he descends in the broadening valley, of the beautiful mountain parks of live-oak and clear running water, and of the richness both for grazing and grain of the ranches of the santa margarita, las flores, and santa rosa. or if he will see what a few years of vigorous cultivation will do, he may visit escondido, on the river of that name, which is at an elevation of less than a thousand feet, and fourteen miles from the ocean. this is only one of many settlements that have great natural beauty and thrifty industrial life. in that region are numerous attractive villages. i have a report from a little cañon, a few miles north of escondido, where a woman with an invalid husband settled in 1883. the ground was thickly covered with brush, and its only product was rabbits and quails. in 1888 they had 100 acres cleared and fenced, mostly devoted to orchard fruits and berries. they had in good bearing over 1200 fruit-trees among them 200 oranges and 283 figs, which yielded one and a half tons of figs a week during the bearing season, from august to november. the sprouts of the peach-trees grew twelve feet in 1889. of course such a little fruit farm as this is the result of self-denial and hard work, but i am sure that the experiment in this region need not be exceptional. [illustration: sexton nurseries, near santa barbara.] san diego will be to the southern part of the state what san francisco is to the northern. nature seems to have arranged for this, by providing a magnificent harbor, when it shut off the southern part by a mountain range. during the town-lot lunacy it was said that san diego could not grow because it had no back country, and the retort was that it needed no back country, its harbor would command commerce. the fallacy of this assumption lay in the forgetfulness of the fact that the profitable and peculiar exports of southern california must go east by rail, and reach a market in the shortest possible time, and that the inhabitants look to the pacific for comparatively little of the imports they need. if the isthmus route were opened by a ship-canal, san diego would doubtless have a great share of the pacific trade, and when the population of that part of the state is large enough to demand great importations from the islands and lands of the pacific, this harbor will not go begging. but in its present development the entire pacific trade of japan, china, and the islands, gives only a small dividend each to the competing ports. for these developments this fine harbor must wait, but meantime the wealth and prosperity of san diego lie at its doors. a country as large as the three richest new england states, with enormous wealth of mineral and stone in its mountains, with one of the finest climates in the world, with a million acres of arable land, is certainly capable of building up one great seaport town. these million of acres on the western slope of the mountain ranges of the country are geographically tributary to san diego, and almost every acre by its products is certain to attain a high value. the end of the ridiculous speculation in lots of 1887-88 was not so disastrous in the loss of money invested, or even in the ruin of great expectations by the collapse of fictitious values, as in the stoppage of immigration. the country has been ever since adjusting itself to a normal growth, and the recovery is just in proportion to the arrival of settlers who come to work and not to speculate. i had heard that the "boom" had left san diego and vicinity the "deadest" region to be found anywhere. a speculator would probably so regard it. but the people have had a great accession of common-sense. the expectation of attracting settlers by a fictitious show has subsided, and attention is directed to the development of the natural riches of the country. since the boom san diego has perfected a splendid system of drainage, paved its streets, extended its railways, built up the business part of the town solidly and handsomely, and greatly improved the mesa above the town. in all essentials of permanent growth it is much better in appearance than in 1887. business is better organized, and, best of all, there is an intelligent appreciation of the agricultural resources of the country. it is discovered that san diego has a "back country" capable of producing great wealth. the chamber of commerce has organized a permanent exhibition of products. it is assisted in this work of stimulation by competition by a "ladies' annex," a society numbering some five hundred ladies, who devote themselves not to æsthetic pursuits, but to the quickening of all the industries of the farm and the garden, and all public improvements. [illustration: sweetwater dam.] to the mere traveller who devotes only a couple of weeks to an examination of this region it is evident that the spirit of industry is in the ascendant, and the result is a most gratifying increase in orchards and vineyards, and the storage and distribution of water for irrigation. the region is unsurpassed for the production of the orange, the lemon, the raisin-grape, the fig, and the olive. the great reservoir of the cuyamaca, which supplies san diego, sends its flume around the fertile valley of el cajon (which has already a great reputation for its raisins), and this has become a garden, the land rising in value every year. the region of national city and chula vista is supplied by the reservoir made by the great sweetwater dam--a marvel of engineering skill--and is not only most productive in fruit, but is attractive by pretty villas and most sightly and agreeable homes. it is an unanswerable reply to the inquiry if this region was not killed by the boom that all the arable land, except that staked out for fancy city prices, has steadily risen in value. this is true of all the bay region down through otay (where a promising watch factory is established) to the border at tia juana. the rate of settlement in the county outside of the cities and towns has been greater since the boom than before--a most healthful indication for the future. according to the school census of 1889, mr. van dyke estimates a permanent growth of nearly 50,000 people in the county in four years. half of these are well distributed in small settlements which have the advantages of roads, mails, and school-houses, and which offer to settlers who wish to work adjacent unimproved land at prices which experience shows are still moderate. chapter xiv. a land of agreeable homes. in this imperfect conspectus of a vast territory i should be sorry to say anything that can raise false expectations. our country is very big; and though scarcely any part of it has not some advantages, and notwithstanding the census figures of our population, it will be a long time before our vast territory will fill up. california must wait with the rest; but it seems to me to have a great future. its position in the union with regard to its peculiar productions is unique. it can and will supply us with much that we now import, and labor and capital sooner or later will find their profit in meeting the growing demand for california products. there are many people in the united states who could prolong life by moving to southern california; there are many who would find life easier there by reason of the climate, and because out-door labor is more agreeable there the year through; many who have to fight the weather and a niggardly soil for existence could there have pretty little homes with less expense of money and labor. it is well that people for whom this is true should know it. it need not influence those who are already well placed to try the fortune of a distant country and new associations. i need not emphasize the disadvantage in regard to beauty of a land that can for half the year only keep a vernal appearance by irrigation; but to eyes accustomed to it there is something pleasing in the contrast of the green valleys with the brown and gold and red of the hills. the picture in my mind for the future of the land of the sun, of the mountains, of the sea--which is only an enlargement of the picture of the present--is one of great beauty. the rapid growth of fruit and ornamental trees and the profusion of flowers render easy the making of a lovely home, however humble it may be. the nature of the industries--requiring careful attention to a small piece of ground--points to small holdings as a rule. the picture i see is of a land of small farms and gardens, highly cultivated, in all the valleys and on the foot-hills; a land, therefore, of luxuriance and great productiveness and agreeable homes. i see everywhere the gardens, the vineyards, the orchards, with the various greens of the olive, the fig, and the orange. it is always picturesque, because the country is broken and even rugged; it is always interesting, because of the contrast with the mountains and the desert; it has the color that makes southern italy so poetic. it is the fairest field for the experiment of a contented community, without any poverty and without excessive wealth. chapter xv. some wonders by the way.--yosemite.--mariposa trees.--monterey. i went to it with reluctance. i shrink from attempting to say anything about it. if you knew that there was one spot on the earth where nature kept her secret of secrets, the key to the action of her most gigantic and patient forces through the long eras, the marvel of constructive and destructive energy, in features of sublimity made possible to mental endurance by the most exquisite devices of painting and sculpture, the wonder which is without parallel or comparison, would you not hesitate to approach it? would you not wander and delay with this and that wonder, and this and that beauty and nobility of scenery, putting off the day when the imagination, which is our highest gift, must be extinguished by the reality? the mind has this judicious timidity. do we not loiter in the avenue of the temple, dallying with the vista of giant plane-trees and statues, and noting the carving and the color, mentally shrinking from the moment when the full glory shall burst upon us? we turn and look when we are near a summit, we pick a flower, we note the shape of the clouds, the passing breeze, before we take the last step that shall reveal to us the vast panorama of mountains and valleys. i cannot bring myself to any description of the grand cañon of the colorado by any other route, mental or physical, than that by which we reached it, by the way of such beauty as monterey, such a wonder as the yosemite, and the infinite and picturesque deserts of new mexico and arizona. i think the mind needs the training in the desert scenery to enable it to grasp the unique sublimity of the grand cañon. the road to the yosemite, after leaving the branch of the southern pacific at raymond, is an unnecessarily fatiguing one. the journey by stage--sixty-five miles--is accomplished in less than two days--thirty-nine miles the first day, and twenty-six the second. the driving is necessarily slow, because two mountain ridges have to be surmounted, at an elevation each of about 6500 feet. the road is not a "road" at all as the term is understood in switzerland, spain, or in any highly civilized region--that is, a graded, smooth, hard, and sufficiently broad track. it is a makeshift highway, generally narrow (often too narrow for two teams to pass), cast up with loose material, or excavated on the slopes with frequent short curves and double curves. like all mountain roads which skirt precipices, it may seem "pokerish," but it is safe enough if the drivers are skilful and careful (all the drivers on this route are not only excellent, but exceedingly civil as well), and there is no break in wagon or harness. at the season this trip is made the weather is apt to be warm, but this would not matter so much if the road were not intolerably dusty. over a great part of the way the dust rises in clouds and is stifling. on a well-engineered road, with a good road-bed, the time of passage might not be shortened, but the journey would be made with positive comfort and enjoyment, for though there is a certain monotony in the scenery, there is the wild freshness of nature, now and then an extensive prospect, a sight of the snow-clad nevadas, and vast stretches of woodland; and a part of the way the forests are magnificent, especially the stupendous growth of the sugar-pine. these noble forests are now protected by their inaccessibility. from 1855 to 1864, nine years, the yosemite had 653 visitors; in 1864 there were 147. the number increased steadily till 1869, the year the overland railroad was completed, when it jumped to 1122. between 4000 and 5000 persons visit it now each year. the number would be enormously increased if it could be reached by rail, and doubtless a road will be built to the valley in the near future, perhaps up the merced river. i believe that the pilgrims who used to go to the yosemite on foot or on horseback regret the building of the stage road, the enjoyment of the wonderful valley being somehow cheapened by the comparative ease of reaching it. it is feared that a railway would still further cheapen, if it did not vulgarize it, and that passengers by train would miss the mountain scenery, the splendid forests, the surprises of the way (like the first view of the valley from inspiration point), and that the mariposa big trees would be farther off the route than they are now. the traveller sees them now by driving eight miles from wawona, the end of the first day's staging. but the romance for the few there is in staging will have to give way to the greater comfort of the many by rail. [illustration: the yosemite dome.] the railway will do no more injury to the yosemite than it has done to niagara, and, in fact, will be the means of immensely increasing the comfort of the visitor's stay there, besides enabling tens of thousands of people to see it who cannot stand the fatigue of the stage ride over the present road. the yosemite will remain as it is. the simplicity of its grand features is unassailable so long as the government protects the forests that surround it and the streams that pour into it. the visitor who goes there by rail will find plenty of adventure for days and weeks in following the mountain trails, ascending to the great points of view, exploring the cañons, or climbing so as to command the vast stretch of the snowy sierras. or, if he is not inclined to adventure, the valley itself will satisfy his highest imaginative flights of the sublime in rock masses and perpendicular ledges, and his sense of beauty in the graceful water-falls, rainbow colors, and exquisite lines of domes and pinnacles. it is in the grouping of objects of sublimity and beauty that the yosemite excels. the narrow valley, with its gigantic walls, which vary in every change of the point of view, lends itself to the most astonishing scenic effects, and these the photograph has reproduced, so that the world is familiar with the striking features of the valley, and has a tolerably correct idea of the sublimity of some of these features. what the photograph cannot do is to give an impression of the unique grouping, of the majesty, and at times crushing weight upon the mind of the forms and masses, of the atmospheric splendor and illusion, and of the total value of such an assemblage of wonders. the level surface of the peaceful, park-like valley has much to do with the impression. the effect of el capitan, seen across a meadow and rising from a beautiful park, is much greater than if it were encountered in a savage mountain gorge. the traveller may have seen elsewhere greater water-falls, and domes and spires of rock as surprising, but he has nowhere else seen such a combination as this. he may be fortified against surprise by the photographs he has seen and the reports of word painters, but he will not escape (say, at inspiration point, or artist point, or other lookouts), a quickening of the pulse and an elation which is physical as well as mental, in the sight of such unexpected sublimity and beauty. and familiarity will scarcely take off the edge of his delight, so varied are the effects in the passing hours and changing lights. the rainbow fall, when water is abundant, is exceedingly impressive as well as beautiful. seen from the carriage road, pouring out of the sky overhead, it gives a sense of power, and at the proper hour before sunset, when the vast mass of leaping, foaming water is shot through with the colors of the spectrum, it is one of the most exquisite sights the world can offer; the elemental forces are overwhelming, but the loveliness is engaging. one turns from this to the noble mass of el capitan with a shock of surprise, however often it may have been seen. this is the hour also, in the time of high-water, to see the reflection of the yosemite falls. as a spectacle it is infinitely finer than anything at mirror lake, and is unique in its way. to behold this beautiful series of falls, flowing down out of the blue sky above, and flowing up out of an equally blue sky in the depths of the earth, is a sight not to be forgotten. and when the observer passes from these displays to the sight of the aerial domes in the upper end of the valley, new wonders opening at every turn of the forest road, his excitement has little chance of subsiding: he may be even a little oppressed. the valley, so verdant and friendly with grass and trees and flowers, is so narrow compared with the height of its perpendicular guardian walls, and this little secluded spot is so imprisoned in the gigantic mountains, that man has a feeling of helplessness in it. this powerlessness in the presence of elemental forces was heightened by the deluge of water. there had been an immense fall of snow the winter before, the merced was a raging torrent, overflowing its banks, and from every ledge poured a miniature cataract. [illustration: coast of monterey.] noble simplicity is the key-note to the scenery of the yosemite, and this is enhanced by the park-like appearance of the floor of the valley. the stems of the fine trees are in harmony with the perpendicular lines, and their foliage adds the necessary contrast to the gray rock masses. in order to preserve these forest-trees, the underbrush, which is liable to make a conflagration in a dry season, should be removed generally, and the view of the great features be left unimpeded. the minor cañons and the trails are, of course, left as much as possible to the riot of vegetation. the state commission, which labors under the disadvantages of getting its supplies from a legislature that does not appreciate the value of the yosemite to california, has developed the trails judiciously, and established a model trail service. the yosemite, it need not be said, is a great attraction to tourists from all parts of the world; it is the interest of the state, therefore, to increase their number by improving the facilities for reaching it, and by resolutely preserving all the surrounding region from ravage. [illustration: cypress point.] [illustration: near seal rock.] this is as true of the mariposa big tree region as of the valley. indeed, more care is needed for the trees than for the great chasm, for man cannot permanently injure the distinctive features of the latter, while the destruction of the sequoias will be an irreparable loss to the state and to the world. the _sequoia gigantea_ differs in leaf, and size and shape of cone, from the great _sequoia semper virens_ on the coast near santa cruz; neither can be spared. the mariposa trees, scattered along on a mountain ridge 6500 feet above the sea, do not easily obtain their victory, for they are a part of a magnificent forest of other growths, among which the noble sugar-pine is conspicuous for its enormous size and graceful vigor. the sequoias dominate among splendid rivals only by a magnitude that has no comparison elsewhere in the world. i think no one can anticipate the effect that one of these monarchs will have upon him. he has read that a coach and six can drive through one of the trees that is standing; that another is thirty-three feet in diameter, and that its vast stem, 350 feet high, is crowned with a mass of foliage that seems to brush against the sky. he might be prepared for a tower 100 feet in circumference, and even 400 feet high, standing upon a level plain; but this living growth is quite another affair. each tree is an individual, and has a personal character. no man can stand in the presence of one of these giants without a new sense of the age of the world and the insignificant span of one human life; but he is also overpowered by a sense of some gigantic personality. it does not relieve him to think of this as the methuselah of trees, or to call it by the name of some great poet or captain. the awe the tree inspires is of itself. as one lies and looks up at the enormous bulk, it seems not so much the bulk, so lightly is it carried, as the spirit of the tree--the elastic vigor, the patience, the endurance of storm and change, the confident might, and the soaring, almost contemptuous pride, that overwhelm the puny spectator. it is just because man can measure himself, his littleness, his brevity of existence, with this growth out of the earth, that he is more personally impressed by it than he might be by the mere variation in the contour of the globe which is called a mountain. the imagination makes a plausible effort to comprehend it, and is foiled. no; clearly it is not mere size that impresses one; it is the dignity, the character in the tree, the authority and power of antiquity. side by side of these venerable forms are young sequoias, great trees themselves, that have only just begun their millennial career--trees that will, if spared, perpetuate to remote ages this race of giants, and in two to four thousand years from now take the place of their great-grandfathers, who are sinking under the weight of years, and one by one measuring their length on the earth. [illustration: laguna, from the south-east.] the transition from the sublime to the exquisitely lovely in nature can nowhere else be made with more celerity than from the sierras to the coast at monterey; california abounds in such contrasts and surprises. after the great stirring of the emotions by the yosemite and the mariposa, the hotel del monte park and vicinity offer repose, and make an appeal to the sense of beauty and refinement. yet even here something unique is again encountered. i do not refer to the extraordinary beauty of the giant live-oaks and the landscape-gardening about the hotel, which have made monterey famous the world over, but to the sea-beach drive of sixteen miles, which can scarcely be rivalled elsewhere either for marine loveliness or variety of coast scenery. it has points like the ocean drive at newport, but is altogether on a grander scale, and shows a more poetic union of shore and sea; besides, it offers the curious and fascinating spectacles of the rocks inhabited by the sea-lions, and the cypress point. these huge, uncouth creatures can be seen elsewhere, but probably nowhere else on this coast are they massed in greater numbers. the trees of cypress point are unique, this species of cypress having been found nowhere else. the long, never-ceasing swell of the pacific incessantly flows up the many crescent sand beaches, casting up shells of brilliant hues, sea-weed, and kelp, which seems instinct with animal life, and flotsam from the far-off islands. but the rocks that lie off the shore, and the jagged points that project in fanciful forms, break the even great swell, and send the waters, churned into spray and foam, into the air with a thousand hues in the sun. the shock of these sharp collisions mingles with the heavy ocean boom. cypress point is one of the most conspicuous of these projections, and its strange trees creep out upon the ragged ledges almost to the water's edge. these cypresses are quite as instinct with individual life and quite as fantastic as any that doré drew for his "inferno." they are as gnarled and twisted as olive-trees two centuries old, but their attitudes seem not only to show struggle with the elements, but agony in that struggle. the agony may be that of torture in the tempest, or of some fabled creatures fleeing and pursued, stretching out their long arms in terror, and fixed in that writhing fear. they are creatures of the sea quite as much as of the land, and they give to this lovely coast a strange charm and fascination. chapter, xvi. fascinations of the desert.--the laguna pueblo. the traveller to california by the santa fé route comes into the arid regions gradually, and finds each day a variety of objects of interest that upsets his conception of a monotonous desert land. if he chooses to break the continental journey midway, he can turn aside at las vegas to the hot springs. here, at the head of a picturesque valley, is the montezuma hotel, a luxurious and handsome house, 6767 feet above sea-level, a great surprise in the midst of the broken and somewhat savage new mexican scenery. the low hills covered with pines and piñons, the romantic glens, and the wide views from the elevations about the hotel, make it an attractive place; and a great deal has been done, in the erection of bath-houses, ornamental gardening, and the grading of roads and walks, to make it a comfortable place. the latitude and the dryness of the atmosphere insure for the traveller from the north in our winter an agreeable reception, and the elevation makes the spot in the summer a desirable resort from southern heat. it is a sanitarium as well as a pleasure resort. the hot springs have much the same character as the töplitz waters in bohemia, and the saturated earth--the _mütterlager_--furnishes the curative "mud baths" which are enjoyed at marienbad and carlsbad. the union of the climate, which is so favorable in diseases of the respiratory organs, with the waters, which do so much for rheumatic sufferers, gives a distinction to las vegas hot springs. this new mexican air--there is none purer on the globe--is an enemy to hay-fever and malarial diseases. it was a wise enterprise to provide that those who wish to try its efficacy can do so at the montezuma without giving up any of the comforts of civilized life. [illustration: church at laguna.] it is difficult to explain to one who has not seen it, or will not put himself in the leisurely frame of mind to enjoy it, the charms of the desert of the high plateaus of new mexico and arizona. its arid character is not so impressive as its ancientness; and the part which interests us is not only the procession of the long geologic eras, visible in the extinct volcanoes, the _barrancas_, the painted buttes, the petrified forests, but as well in the evidences of civilizations gone by, or the remains of them surviving in our day--the cliff dwellings, the ruins of cities that were thriving when coronado sent his lieutenants through the region three centuries ago, and the present residences of the pueblo indians, either villages perched upon an almost inaccessible rock like acamo, or clusters of adobe dwellings like isleta and laguna. the pueblo indians, of whom the zuñis are a tribe, have been dwellers in villages and cultivators of the soil and of the arts of peace immemorially, a gentle, amiable race. it is indeed such a race as one would expect to find in the land of the sun and the cactus. their manners and their arts attest their antiquity and a long refinement in fixed dwellings and occupations. the whole region is a most interesting field for the antiquarian. we stopped one day at laguna, which is on the santa fé line west of isleta, another indian pueblo at the atlantic and pacific junction, where the road crosses the rio grande del norte west of albuquerque. near laguna a little stream called the rio puerco flows southward and joins the rio grande. there is verdure along these streams, and gardens and fruit orchards repay the rude irrigation. in spite of these watercourses the aspect of the landscape is wild and desert-like--low barren hills and ragged ledges, wide sweeps of sand and dry gray bushes, with mountains and long lines of horizontal ledges in the distance. laguna is built upon a rounded elevation of rock. its appearance is exactly that of a syrian village, the same cluster of little, square, flat-roofed houses in terraces, the same brown color, and under the same pale blue sky. and the resemblance was completed by the figures of the women on the roofs, or moving down the slope, erect and supple, carrying on the head a water jar, and holding together by one hand the mantle worn like a spanish _rebozo_. the village is irregularly built, without much regard to streets or alleys, and it has no special side of entrance or approach. every side presents a blank wall of adobe, and the entrance seems quite by chance. yet the way we went over, the smooth slope was worn here and there in channels three or four inches deep, as if by the passing feet of many generations. the only semblance of architectural regularity is in the plaza, not perfectly square, upon which some of the houses look, and where the annual dances take place. the houses have the effect of being built in terraces rising one above the other, but it is hard to say exactly what a house is--whether it is anything more than one room. you can reach some of the houses only by aid of a ladder. you enter others from the street. if you will go farther you must climb a ladder which brings you to the roof that is used as the sitting-room or door-yard of the next room. from this room you may still ascend to others, or you may pass through low and small door-ways to other apartments. it is all haphazard, but exceedingly picturesque. you may find some of the family in every room, or they may be gathered, women and babies, on a roof which is protected by a parapet. at the time of our visit the men were all away at work in their fields. notwithstanding the houses are only sun-dried bricks, and the village is without water or street commissioners, i was struck by the universal cleanliness. there was no refuse in the corners or alleys, no odors, and many of the rooms were patterns of neatness. to be sure, an old woman here and there kept her hens in an adjoining apartment above her own, and there was the litter of children and of rather careless house-keeping. but, taken altogether, the town is an example for some more civilized, whose inhabitants wash oftener and dress better than these indians. [illustration: terraced houses, pueblo of laguna.] we were put on friendly terms with the whole settlement through three or four young maidens who had been at the carlisle school, and spoke english very prettily. they were of the ages of fifteen and sixteen, and some of them had been five years away. they came back, so far as i could learn, gladly to their own people and to the old ways. they had resumed the indian dress, which is much more becoming to them, as i think they know, than that which had been imposed upon them. i saw no books. they do not read any now, and they appear to be perfectly content with the idle drudgery of their semi-savage condition. in time they will marry in their tribe, and the school episode will be a thing of the past. but not altogether. the pretty josephine, who was our best cicerone about the place, a girl of lovely eyes and modest mien, showed us with pride her own room, or "house," as she called it, neat as could be, simply furnished with an iron bedstead and snow-white cot, a mirror, chair, and table, and a trunk, and some "advertising" prints on the walls. she said that she was needed at home to cook for her aged mother, and her present ambition was to make money enough by the sale of pottery and curios to buy a cooking stove, so that she could cook more as the whites do. the house-work of the family had mainly fallen upon her; but it was not burdensome, i fancied, and she and the other girls of her age had leisure to go to the station on the arrival of every train, in hope of selling something to the passengers, and to sit on the rocks in the sun and dream as maidens do. i fancy it would be better for josephine and for all the rest if there were no station and no passing trains. the elder women were uniformly ugly, but not repulsive like the mojaves; the place swarmed with children, and the babies, aged women, and pleasing young girls grouped most effectively on the roofs. the whole community were very complaisant and friendly when we came to know them well, which we did in the course of an hour, and they enjoyed as much as we did the bargaining for pottery. they have for sale a great quantity of small pieces, fantastic in form and brilliantly colored--toys, in fact; but we found in their houses many beautiful jars of large size and excellent shape, decorated most effectively. the ordinary utensils for cooking and for cooling water are generally pretty in design and painted artistically. like the ancient peruvians, they make many vessels in the forms of beasts and birds. some of the designs of the decoration are highly conventionalized, and others are just in the proper artistic line of the natural--a spray with a bird, or a sunflower on its stalk. the ware is all unglazed, exceedingly light and thin, and baked so hard that it has a metallic sound when struck. some of the large jars are classic in shape, and recall in form and decoration the ancient cypriote ware, but the colors are commonly brilliant and barbaric. the designs seem to be indigenous, and to betray little spanish influence. the art displayed in this pottery is indeed wonderful, and, to my eye, much more effective and lastingly pleasing than much of our cultivated decoration. a couple of handsome jars that i bought of an old woman, she assured me she made and decorated herself; but i saw no ovens there, nor any signs of manufacture, and suppose that most of the ware is made at acoma. it did not seem to be a very religious community, although the town has a catholic church, and i understand that protestant services are sometimes held in the place. the church is not much frequented, and the only evidence of devotion i encountered was in a woman who wore a large and handsome silver cross, made by the navajos. when i asked its price, she clasped it to her bosom, with an upward look full of faith and of refusal to part with her religion at any price. the church, which is adobe, and at least two centuries old, is one of the most interesting i have seen anywhere. it is a simple parallelogram, 104 feet long and 21 feet broad, the gable having an opening in which the bells hang. the interior is exceedingly curious, and its decorations are worth reproduction. the floor is of earth, and many of the tribe who were distinguished and died long ago are said to repose under its smooth surface, with nothing to mark their place of sepulture. it has an open timber roof, the beams supported upon carved corbels. the ceiling is made of wooden sticks, about two inches in diameter and some four feet long, painted in alternated colors--red, blue, orange, and black--and so twisted or woven together as to produce the effect of plaited straw, a most novel and agreeable decoration. over the entrance is a small gallery, the under roof of which is composed of sticks laid in straw pattern and colored. all around the wall runs a most striking dado, an odd, angular pattern, with conventionalized birds at intervals, painted in strong yet _fade_ colors--red, yellow, black, and white. the north wall is without windows; all the light, when the door is closed, comes from two irregular windows, without glass, high up in the south wall. [illustration: grand cañon on the colorado--view from point sublime.] the chancel walls are covered with frescos, and there are several quaint paintings, some of them not very bad in color and drawing. the altar, which is supported at the sides by twisted wooden pillars, carved with a knife, is hung with ancient sheepskins brightly painted. back of the altar are some archaic wooden images, colored; and over the altar, on the ceiling, are the stars of heaven, and the sun and the moon, each with a face in it. the interior was scrupulously clean and sweet and restful to one coming in from the glare of the sun on the desert. it was evidently little used, and the indians who accompanied us seemed under no strong impression of its sanctity; but we liked to linger in it, it was so _bizarre_, so picturesque, and exhibited in its rude decoration so much taste. two or three small birds flitting about seemed to enjoy the coolness and the subdued light, and were undisturbed by our presence. these are children of the desert, kin in their condition and the influences that formed them to the sedentary tribes of upper egypt and arabia, who pitch their villages upon the rocky eminences, and depend for subsistence upon irrigation and scant pasturage. their habits are those of the dwellers in an arid land which has little in common with the wilderness--the inhospitable northern wilderness of rain and frost and snow. rain, to be sure, insures some sort of vegetation in the most forbidding and intractable country, but that does not save the harsh landscape from being unattractive. the high plateaus of new mexico and arizona have everything that the rainy wilderness lacks--sunshine, heaven's own air, immense breadth of horizon, color and infinite beauty of outline, and a warm soil with unlimited possibilities when moistened. all that these deserts need is water. a fatal want? no. that is simply saying that science can do for this region what it cannot do for the high wilderness of frost--by the transportation of water transform it into gardens of bloom and fields of fruitfulness. the wilderness shall be made to feed the desert. [illustration: interior of the church at laguna.] i confess that these deserts in the warm latitudes fascinate me. perhaps it is because i perceive in them such a chance for the triumph of the skill of man, seeing how, here and there, his energy has pushed the desert out of his path across the continent. but i fear that i am not so practical. to many the desert in its stony sterility, its desolateness, its unbroken solitude, its fantastic savageness, is either appalling or repulsive. to them it is tiresome and monotonous. the vast plains of kansas and nebraska are monotonous even in the agricultural green of summer. not so to me the desert. it is as changeable in its lights and colors as the ocean. it is even in its general features of sameness never long the same. if you traverse it on foot or on horseback, there is ever some minor novelty. and on the swift train, if you draw down the curtain against the glare, or turn to your book, you are sure to miss something of interest--a deep cañon rift in the plain, a turn that gives a wide view glowing in a hundred hues in the sun, a savage gorge with beetling rocks, a solitary butte or red truncated pyramid thrust up into the blue sky, a horizontal ledge cutting the horizon line as straight as a ruler for miles, a pointed cliff uplifted sheer from the plain and laid in regular courses of cyclopean masonry, the battlements of a fort, a terraced castle with towers and esplanade, a great trough of a valley, gray and parched, enclosed by far purple mountains. and then the unlimited freedom of it, its infinite expansion, its air like wine to the senses, the floods of sunshine, the waves of color, the translucent atmosphere that aids the imagination to create in the distance all architectural splendors and realms of peace. it is all like a mirage and a dream. we pass swiftly, and make a moving panorama of beauty in hues, of strangeness in forms, of sublimity in extent, of overawing and savage antiquity. i would miss none of it. and when we pass to the accustomed again, to the fields of verdure and the forests and the hills of green, and are limited in view and shut in by that which we love, after all, better than the arid land, i have a great longing to see again the desert, to be a part of its vastness, and to feel once more the freedom and inspiration of its illimitable horizons. chapter xvii. the heart of the desert. there is an arid region lying in northern arizona and southern utah which has been called the district of the grand cañon of the colorado. the area, roughly estimated, contains from 13,000 to 16,000 square miles--about the size of the state of maryland. this region, fully described by the explorers and studied by the geologists in the united states service, but little known to even the travelling public, is probably the most interesting territory of its size on the globe. at least it is unique. in attempting to convey an idea of it the writer can be assisted by no comparison, nor can he appeal in the minds of his readers to any experience of scenery that can apply here. the so-called grand cañon differs not in degree from all other scenes; it differs in kind. the colorado river flows southward through utah, and crosses the arizona line below the junction with the san juan. it continues southward, flowing deep in what is called the marble cañon, till it is joined by the little colorado, coming up from the south-east; it then turns westward in a devious line until it drops straight south, and forms the western boundary of arizona. the centre of the district mentioned is the westwardly flowing part of the colorado. south of the river is the colorado plateau, at a general elevation of about 7000 feet. north of it the land is higher, and ascends in a series of plateaus, and then terraces, a succession of cliffs like a great stair-way, rising to the high plateaus of utah. the plateaus, adjoining the river on the north and well marked by north and south dividing lines, or faults, are, naming them from east to west, the paria, the kaibab, the kanab, the uinkaret, and the sheavwitz, terminating in a great wall on the west, the great wash fault, where the surface of the country drops at once from a general elevation of 6000 feet to from 1300 to 3000 feet above the sea-level--into a desolate and formidable desert. if the grand cañon itself did not dwarf everything else, the scenery of these plateaus would be superlative in interest. it is not all desert, nor are the gorges, cañons, cliffs, and terraces, which gradually prepare the mind for the comprehension of the grand cañon, the only wonders of this land of enchantment. these are contrasted with the sylvan scenery of the kaibab plateau, its giant forests and parks, and broad meadows decked in the summer with wild flowers in dense masses of scarlet, white, purple, and yellow. the vermilion cliffs, the pink cliffs, the white cliffs, surpass in fantastic form and brilliant color anything that the imagination conceives possible in nature, and there are dreamy landscapes quite beyond the most exquisite fancies of claude and of turner. the region is full of wonders, of beauties, and sublimities that shelley's imaginings do not match in the "prometheus unbound," and when it becomes accessible to the tourist it will offer an endless field for the delight of those whose minds can rise to the heights of the sublime and the beautiful. in all imaginative writing or painting the material used is that of human experience, otherwise it could not be understood; even heaven must be described in the terms of an earthly paradise. human experience has no prototype of this region, and the imagination has never conceived of its forms and colors. it is impossible to convey an adequate idea of it by pen or pencil or brush. the reader who is familiar with the glowing descriptions in the official reports of major j. w. powell, captain c. e. dutton, lieutenant ives, and others, will not save himself from a shock of surprise when the reality is before him. this paper deals only with a single view in this marvellous region. [illustration: grand cañon of the colorado--view opposite point sublime.] the point where we struck the grand cañon, approaching it from the south, is opposite the promontory in the kaibab plateau named point sublime by major powell, just north of the 36th parallel, and 112° 15' west longitude. this is only a few miles west of the junction with the little colorado. about three or four miles west of this junction the river enters the east slope of the east kaibab monocline, and here the grand cañon begins. rapidly the chasm deepens to about 6000 feet, or rather it penetrates a higher country, the slope of the river remaining about the same. through this lofty plateau--an elevation of 7000 to 9000 feet--the chasm extends for sixty miles, gradually changing its course to the north-west, and entering the kanab plateau. the kaibab division of the grand cañon is by far the sublimest of all, being 1000 feet deeper than any other. it is not grander only on account of its greater depth, but it is broader and more diversified with magnificent architectural features. the kanab division, only less magnificent than the kaibab, receives the kanab cañon from the north and the cataract cañon from the south, and ends at the toroweap valley. the section of the grand cañon seen by those who take the route from peach springs is between 113° and 114° west longitude, and, though wonderful, presents few of the great features of either the kaibab or the kanab divisions. the grand cañon ends, west longitude 114°, at the great wash, west of the hurricane ledge or fault. its whole length from little colorado to the great wash, measured by the meanderings of the surface of the river, is 220 miles; by a median line between the crests of the summits of the walls with two-mile cords, about 195 miles; the distance in a straight line is 125 miles. in our journey to the grand cañon we left the santa fé line at flagstaff, a new town with a lively lumber industry, in the midst of a spruce-pine forest which occupies the broken country through which the road passes for over fifty miles. the forest is open, the trees of moderate size are too thickly set with low-growing limbs to make clean lumber, and the foliage furnishes the minimum of shade; but the change to these woods is a welcome one from the treeless reaches of the desert on either side. the cañon is also reached from williams, the next station west, the distance being a little shorter, and the point on the cañon visited being usually a little farther west. but the flagstaff route is for many reasons usually preferred. flagstaff lies just south-east of the san francisco mountain, and on the great colorado plateau, which has a pretty uniform elevation of about 7000 feet above the sea. the whole region is full of interest. some of the most remarkable cliff dwellings are within ten miles of flagstaff, on the walnut creek cañon. at holbrook, 100 miles east, the traveller finds a road some forty miles long, that leads to the great petrified forest, or chalcedony park. still farther east are the villages of the pueblo indians, near the line, while to the northward is the great reservation of the navajos, a nomadic tribe celebrated for its fine blankets and pretty work in silver--a tribe that preserves much of its manly independence by shunning the charity of the united states. no indians have come into intimate or dependent relations with the whites without being deteriorated. [illustration: tourists in the colorado cañon.] flagstaff is the best present point of departure, because it has a small hotel, good supply stores, and a large livery-stable, made necessary by the business of the place and the objects of interest in the neighborhood, and because one reaches from there by the easiest road the finest scenery incomparably on the colorado. the distance is seventy-six miles through a practically uninhabited country, much of it a desert, and with water very infrequent. no work has been done on the road; it is made simply by driving over it. there are a few miles here and there of fair wheeling, but a good deal of it is intolerably dusty or exceedingly stony, and progress is slow. in the daytime (it was the last of june) the heat is apt to be excessive; but this could be borne, the air is so absolutely dry and delicious, and breezes occasionally spring up, if it were not for the dust. it is, notwithstanding the novelty of the adventure and of the scenery by the way, a tiresome journey of two days. a day of rest is absolutely required at the cañon, so that five days must be allowed for the trip. this will cost the traveller, according to the size of the party made up, from forty to fifty dollars. but a much longer sojourn at the cañon is desirable. our party of seven was stowed in and on an old concord coach drawn by six horses, and piled with camp equipage, bedding, and provisions. a four-horse team followed, loaded with other supplies and cooking utensils. the road lies on the east side of the san francisco mountain. returning, we passed around its west side, gaining thus a complete view of this shapely peak. the compact range is a group of extinct volcanoes, the craters of which are distinctly visible. the cup-like summit of the highest is 13,000 feet above the sea, and snow always lies on the north escarpment. rising about 6000 feet above the point of view of the great plateau, it is from all sides a noble object, the dark rock, snow-sprinkled, rising out of the dense growth of pine and cedar. we drove at first through open pine forests, through park-like intervals, over the foot-hills of the mountain, through growths of scrub cedar, and out into the ever-varying rolling country to widely-extended prospects. two considerable hills on our right attracted us by their unique beauty. upon the summit and side of each was a red glow exactly like the tint of sunset. we thought surely that it was the effect of reflected light, but the sky was cloudless and the color remained constant. the color came from the soil. the first was called sunset mountain. one of our party named the other, and the more beautiful, peachblow mountain, a poetic and perfectly descriptive name. we lunched at noon beside a swift, clouded, cold stream of snow-water from the san francisco, along which grew a few gnarled cedars and some brilliant wild flowers. the scene was more than picturesque; in the clear hot air of the desert the distant landscape made a hundred pictures of beauty. behind us the dark form of san francisco rose up 6000 feet to its black crater and fields of spotless snow. away off to the north-east, beyond the brown and gray pastures, across a far line distinct in dull color, lay the painted desert, like a mirage, like a really painted landscape, glowing in red and orange and pink, an immense city rather than a landscape, with towers and terraces and façades, melting into indistinctness as in a rosy mist, spectral but constant, weltering in a tropic glow and heat, walls and columns and shafts, the wreck of an oriental capital on a wide violet plain, suffused with brilliant color softened into exquisite shades. all over this region nature has such surprises, that laugh at our inadequate conception of her resources. our camp for the night was at the next place where water could be obtained, a station of the arizona cattle company. abundant water is piped down to it from mountain springs. the log-house and stable of the cow-boys were unoccupied, and we pitched our tent on a knoll by the corral. the night was absolutely dry, and sparkling with the starlight. a part of the company spread their blankets on the ground under the sky. it is apt to be cold in this region towards morning, but lodging in the open air is no hardship in this delicious climate. the next day the way part of the distance, with only a road marked by wagon wheels, was through extensive and barren-looking cattle ranges, through pretty vales of grass surrounded by stunted cedars, and over stormy ridges and plains of sand and small bowlders. the water having failed at red horse, the only place where it is usually found in the day's march, our horses went without, and we had resource to our canteens. the whole country is essentially arid, but snow falls in the winter-time, and its melting, with occasional showers in the summer, create what are called surface wells, made by drainage. many of them go dry by june. there had been no rain in the region since the last of march, but clouds were gathering daily, and showers are always expected in july. the phenomenon of rain on this baked surface, in this hot air, and with this immense horizon, is very interesting. showers in this tentative time are local. in our journey we saw showers far off, we experienced a dash for ten minutes, but it was local, covering not more than a mile or two square. we have in sight a vast canopy of blue sky, of forming and dispersing clouds. it is difficult for them to drop their moisture in the rising columns of hot air. the result at times was a very curious spectacle--rain in the sky that did not reach the earth. perhaps some cold current high above us would condense the moisture, which would begin to fall in long trailing sweeps, blown like fine folds of muslin, or like sheets of dissolving sugar, and then the hot air of the earth would dissipate it, and the showers would be absorbed in the upper regions. the heat was sometimes intense, but at intervals a refreshing wind would blow, the air being as fickle as the rain; and now and then we would see a slender column of dust, a thousand or two feet high, marching across the desert, apparently not more than two feet in diameter, and wavering like the threads of moisture that tried in vain to reach the earth as rain. of life there was not much to be seen in our desert route. in the first day we encountered no habitation except the ranch-house mentioned, and saw no human being; and the second day none except the solitary occupant of the dried well at red horse, and two or three indians on the hunt. a few squirrels were seen, and a rabbit now and then, and occasionally a bird. the general impression was that of a deserted land. but antelope abound in the timber regions, and we saw several of these graceful creatures quite near us. excellent antelope steaks, bought of the wandering indian hunters, added something to our "canned" supplies. one day as we lunched, without water, on the cedar slope of a lovely grass interval, we saw coming towards us over the swells of the prairie a figure of a man on a horse. it rode to us straight as the crow flies. the indian pony stopped not two feet from where our group sat, and the rider, who was an oualapai chief, clad in sacking, with the print of the brand of flour or salt on his back, dismounted with his winchester rifle, and stood silently looking at us without a word of salutation. he stood there, impassive, until we offered him something to eat. having eaten all we gave him, he opened his mouth and said, "smoke 'em?" having procured from the other wagon a pipe of tobacco and a pull at the driver's canteen, he returned to us all smiles. his only baggage was the skull of an antelope, with the horns, hung at his saddle. into this he put the bread and meat which we gave him, mounted the wretched pony, and without a word rode straight away. at a little distance he halted, dismounted, and motioned towards the edge of the timber, where he had spied an antelope. but the game eluded him, and he mounted again and rode off across the desert--a strange figure. his tribe lives in the cañon some fifty miles west, and was at present encamped, for the purpose of hunting, in the pine woods not far from the point we were aiming at. chapter xviii. on the brink of the grand cañon.--the unique marvel of nature. the way seemed long. with the heat and dust and slow progress, it was exceedingly wearisome. our modern nerves are not attuned to the slow crawling of a prairie-wagon. there had been growing for some time in the coach a feeling that the journey did not pay; that, in fact, no mere scenery could compensate for the fatigue of the trip. the imagination did not rise to it. "it will have to be a very big cañon," said the duchess. late in the afternoon we entered an open pine forest, passed through a meadow where the indians had set their camp by a shallow pond, and drove along a ridge, in the cool shades, for three or four miles. suddenly, on the edge of a descent, we who were on the box saw through the tree-tops a vision that stopped the pulse for a second, and filled us with excitement. it was only a glimpse, far off and apparently lifted up--red towers, purple cliffs, wide-spread apart, hints of color and splendor; on the right distance, mansions, gold and white and carmine (so the light made them), architectural habitations in the sky it must be, and suggestions of others far off in the middle distance--a substantial aerial city, or the ruins of one, such as the prophet saw in a vision. it was only a glimpse. our hearts were in our mouths. we had a vague impression of something wonderful, fearful--some incomparable splendor that was not earthly. were we drawing near the "city?" and should we have yet a more perfect view thereof? was it jerusalem or some hindoo temples there in the sky? "it was builded of pearls and precious stones, also the streets were paved with gold; so that by reason of the natural glory of the city, and the reflection of the sunbeams upon it, christian with desire fell sick." it was a momentary vision of a vast amphitheatre of splendor, mostly hidden by the trees and the edge of the plateau. we descended into a hollow. there was the well, a log-cabin, a tent or two under the pine-trees. we dismounted with impatient haste. the sun was low in the horizon, and had long withdrawn from this grassy dell. tired as we were, we could not wait. it was only to ascend the little steep, stony slope--300 yards--and we should see! our party were straggling up the hill: two or three had reached the edge. i looked up. the duchess threw up her arms and screamed. we were not fifteen paces behind, but we saw nothing. we took the few steps, and the whole magnificence broke upon us. no one could be prepared for it. the scene is one to strike dumb with awe, or to unstring the nerves; one might stand in silent astonishment, another would burst into tears. there are some experiences that cannot be repeated--one's first view of rome, one's first view of jerusalem. but these emotions are produced by association, by the sudden standing face to face with the scenes most wrought into our whole life and education by tradition and religion. this was without association, as it was without parallel. it was a shock so novel that the mind, dazed, quite failed to comprehend it. all that we could grasp was a vast confusion of amphitheatres and strange architectural forms resplendent with color. the vastness of the view amazed us quite as much as its transcendent beauty. [illustration: grand cañon of the colorado--view from the hanse trail.] we had expected a cañon--two lines of perpendicular walls 6000 feet high, with the ribbon of a river at the bottom; but the reader may dismiss all his notions of a cañon, indeed of any sort of mountain or gorge scenery with which he is familiar. we had come into a new world. what we saw was not a cañon, or a chasm, or a gorge, but a vast area which is a break in the plateau. from where we stood it was twelve miles across to the opposite walls--a level line of mesa on the utah side. we looked up and down for twenty to thirty miles. this great space is filled with gigantic architectural constructions, with amphitheatres, gorges, precipices, walls of masonry, fortresses terraced up to the level of the eye, temples mountain size, all brilliant with horizontal lines of color--streaks of solid hues a few feet in width, streaks a thousand feet in width--yellows, mingled white and gray, orange, dull red, brown, blue, carmine, green, all blending in the sunlight into one transcendent suffusion of splendor. afar off we saw the river in two places, a mere thread, as motionless and smooth as a strip of mirror, only we knew it was a turbid, boiling torrent, 6000 feet below us. directly opposite the overhanging ledge on which we stood was a mountain, the sloping base of which was ashy gray and bluish; it rose in a series of terraces to a thousand-feet wall of dark red sandstone, receding upward, with ranges of columns and many fantastic sculptures, to a finial row of gigantic opera-glasses 6000 feet above the river. the great san francisco mountain, with its snowy crater, which we had passed on the way, might have been set down in the place of this one, and it would have been only one in a multitude of such forms that met the eye whichever way we looked. indeed, all the vast mountains in this region might be hidden in this cañon. wandering a little away from the group and out of sight, and turning suddenly to the scene from another point of view, i experienced for a moment an indescribable terror of nature, a confusion of mind, a fear to be alone in such a presence. with all this grotesqueness and majesty of form and radiance of color, creation seemed in a whirl. with our education in scenery of a totally different kind, i suppose it would need long acquaintance with this to familiarize one with it to the extent of perfect mental comprehension. the vast abyss has an atmosphere of its own, one always changing and producing new effects, an atmosphere and shadows and tones of its own--golden, rosy, gray, brilliant, and sombre, and playing a thousand fantastic tricks to the vision. the rich and wonderful color effects, says captain dutton, "are due to the inherent colors of the rocks, modified by the atmosphere. like any other great series of strata in the plateau province, the carboniferous has its own range of colors, which might serve to distinguish it, even if we had no other criterion. the summit strata are pale gray, with a faint yellowish cast. beneath them the cross-bedded sandstone appears, showing a mottled surface of pale pinkish hue. underneath this member are nearly 1000 feet of the lower aubrey sandstones, displaying an intensely brilliant red, which is somewhat marked by the talus shot down from the gray cherty limestone at the summit. beneath the lower aubrey is the face of the red wall limestone, from 2000 to 3000 feet high. it has a strong red tone, but a very peculiar one. most of the red strata of the west have the brownish or vermilion tones, but these are rather purplish red, as if the pigment had been treated to a dash of blue. it is not quite certain that this may not arise in part from the intervention of the blue haze, and probably it is rendered more conspicuous by this cause; but, on the whole, the purplish cast seems to be inherent. this is the dominant color of the cañon, for the expanse of the rock surface displayed is more than half in the red wall group." i was continually likening this to a vast city rather than a landscape, but it was a city of no man's creation nor of any man's conception. in the visions which inspired or crazy painters have had of the new jerusalem, of babylon the great, of a heaven in the atmosphere, with endless perspective of towers and steeps that hang in the twilight sky, the imagination has tried to reach this reality. but here are effects beyond the artist, forms the architect has not hinted at; and yet everything reminds us of man's work. and the explorers have tried by the use of oriental nomenclature to bring it within our comprehension, the east being the land of the imagination. there is the hindoo amphitheatre, the bright angel amphitheatre, the ottoman amphitheatre, shiva's temple, vishnu's temple, vulcan's throne. and here, indeed, is the idea of the pagoda architecture, of the terrace architecture, of the bizarre constructions which rise with projecting buttresses, rows of pillars, recesses, battlements, esplanades, and low walls, hanging gardens, and truncated pinnacles. it is a city, but a city of the imagination. in many pages i could tell what i saw in one day's lounging for a mile or so along the edge of the precipice. the view changed at every step, and was never half an hour the same in one place. nor did it need much fancy to create illusions or pictures of unearthly beauty. there was a castle, terraced up with columns, plain enough, and below it a parade-ground; at any moment the knights in armor and with banners might emerge from the red gates and deploy there, while the ladies looked down from the balconies. but there were many castles and fortresses and barracks and noble mansions. and the rich sculpture in this brilliant color! in time i began to see queer details: a richardson house, with low portals and round arches, surmounted by a nuremberg gable; perfect panels, 600 feet high, for the setting of pictures; a train of cars partly derailed at the door of a long, low warehouse, with a garden in front of it. there was no end to such devices. it was long before i could comprehend the vastness of the view, see the enormous chasms and rents and seams, and the many architectural ranges separated by great gulfs, between me and the wall of the mesa twelve miles distant. away to the north-east was the blue navajo mountain, the lone peak in the horizon; but on the southern side of it lay a desert level, which in the afternoon light took on the exact appearance of a blue lake; its edge this side was a wall thousands of feet high, many miles in length, and straightly horizontal; over this seemed to fall water. i could see the foam of it at the foot of the cliff; and below that was a lake of shimmering silver, in which the giant precipice and the fall and their color were mirrored. of course there was no silver lake, and the reflection that simulated it was only the sun on the lower part of the immense wall. some one said that all that was needed to perfect this scene was a niagara falls. i thought what figure a fall 150 feet high and 3000 long would make in this arena. it would need a spy-glass to discover it. an adequate niagara here should be at least three miles in breadth, and fall 2000 feet over one of these walls. and the yosemite--ah! the lovely yosemite! dumped down into this wilderness of gorges and mountains, it would take a guide who knew of its existence a long time to find it. the process of creation is here laid bare through the geologic periods. the strata of rock, deposited or upheaved, preserve their horizontal and parallel courses. if we imagine a river flowing on a plain, it would wear for itself a deeper and deeper channel. the walls of this channel would recede irregularly by weathering and by the coming in of other streams. the channel would go on deepening, and the outer walls would again recede. if the rocks were of different material and degrees of hardness, the forms would be carved in the fantastic and architectural manner we find them here. the colorado flows through the tortuous inner chasm, and where we see it, it is 6000 feet below the surface where we stand, and below the towers of the terraced forms nearer it. the splendid views of the cañon at this point given in captain dutton's report are from point sublime, on the north side. there seems to have been no way of reaching the river from that point. from the south side the descent, though wearisome, is feasible. it reverses mountaineering to descend 6000 feet for a view, and there is a certain pleasure in standing on a mountain summit without the trouble of climbing it. hance, the guide, who has charge of the well, has made a path to the bottom. the route is seven miles long. half-way down he has a house by a spring. at the bottom, somewhere in those depths, is a sort of farm, grass capable of sustaining horses and cattle, and ground where fruit-trees can grow. horses are actually living there, and parties descend there with tents, and camp for days at a time. it is a world of its own. some of the photographic views presented here, all inadequate, are taken from points on hance's trail. but no camera or pen can convey an adequate conception of what captain dutton happily calls a great innovation in the modern ideas of scenery. to the eye educated to any other, it may be shocking, grotesque, incomprehensible; but "those who have long and carefully studied the grand cañon of the colorado do not hesitate for a moment to pronounce it by far the most sublime of all earthly spectacles." i have space only to refer to the geologic history in captain dutton's report of 1882, of which there should be a popular edition. the waters of the atlantic once overflowed this region, and were separated from the pacific, if at all, only by a ridge. the story is of long eras of deposits, of removal, of upheaval, and of volcanic action. it is estimated that in one period the thickness of strata removed and transported away was 10,000 feet. long after the colorado began its work of corrosion there was a mighty upheaval. the reader will find the story of the making of the grand cañon more fascinating than any romance. without knowing this story the impression that one has in looking on this scene is that of immense antiquity, hardly anywhere else on earth so overwhelming as here. it has been here in all its lonely grandeur and transcendent beauty, exactly as it is, for what to us is an eternity, unknown, unseen by human eye. to the recent indian, who roved along its brink or descended to its recesses, it was not strange, because he had known no other than the plateau scenery. it is only within a quarter of a century that the grand cañon has been known to the civilized world. it is scarcely known now. it is a world largely unexplored. those who best know it are most sensitive to its awe and splendor. it is never twice the same, for, as i said, it has an atmosphere of its own. i was told by hance that he once saw a thunder-storm in it. he described the chaos of clouds in the pit, the roar of the tempest, the reverberations of thunder, the inconceivable splendor of the rainbows mingled with the colors of the towers and terraces. it was as if the world were breaking up. he fled away to his hut in terror. the day is near when this scenery must be made accessible. a railway can easily be built from flagstaff. the projected road from utah, crossing the colorado at lee's ferry, would come within twenty miles of the grand cañon, and a branch to it could be built. the region is arid, and in the "sight-seeing" part of the year the few surface wells and springs are likely to go dry. the greatest difficulty would be in procuring water for railway service or for such houses of entertainment as are necessary. it could, no doubt, be piped from the san francisco mountain. at any rate, ingenuity will overcome the difficulties, and travellers from the wide world will flock thither, for there is revealed the long-kept secret, the unique achievement of nature. appendix. a climate for invalids. the following notes on the climate of southern california, written by dr. h. a. johnson, of chicago, at the solicitation of the writer of this volume and for his information, i print with his permission, because the testimony of a physician who has made a special study of climatology in europe and america, and is a recognized authority, belongs of right to the public: the choice of a climate for invalids or semi-invalids involves the consideration of: first, the invalid, his physical condition (that is, disease), his peculiarities (mental and emotional), his social habits, and his natural and artificial needs. second, the elements of climate, such as temperature, moisture, direction and force of winds, the averages of the elements, the extremes of variation, and the rapidity of change. the climates of the western and south-western portions of the united states are well suited to a variety of morbid conditions, especially those pertaining to the pulmonary organs and the nervous system. very few localities, however, are equally well adapted to diseases of innervation of circulation and respiration. for the first and second, as a rule, high altitudes are not advisable; for the third, altitudes of from two thousand to six thousand feet are not only admissible but by many thought to be desirable. it seems, however, probable that it is to the dryness of the air and the general antagonisms to vegetable growths, rather than to altitude alone, that the benefits derived in these regions by persons suffering from consumption and kindred diseases should be credited. proximity to large bodies of water, river valleys, and damp plateaus are undesirable as places of residence for invalids with lung troubles. there are exceptions to this rule. localities near the sea with a climate subject to slight variations in temperature, a dry atmosphere, little rainfall, much sunshine, not so cold in winter as to prevent much out-door life and not so hot in summer as to make out-door exercise exhausting, are well adapted not only to troubles of the nervous and circulatory systems, but also to those of the respiratory organs. such a climate is found in the extreme southern portions of california. at san diego the rainfall is much less, the air is drier, and the number of sunshiny days very much larger than on our atlantic seaboard, or in central and northern california. the winters are not cold; flowers bloom in the open air all the year round; the summers are not hot. the mountains and sea combine to give to this region a climate with few sudden changes, and with a comfortable range of all essential elements. a residence during a part of the winter of 1889-90 at coronado beach, and a somewhat careful study of the comparative climatology of the south-western portions of the united states, leads me to think that we have few localities where the comforts of life can be secured, and which at the same time are so well adapted to the needs of a variety of invalids, as san diego and its surroundings. in saying this i do not wish to be understood as preferring it to all others for some one condition or disease, but only that for weak hearts, disabled lungs, and worn-out nerves it seems to me to be unsurpassed. chicago, _july 12, 1890_. the coming of winter in southern california. from mr. theodore s. van dyke's altogether admirable book on _southern california_ i have permission to quote the following exquisite description of the floral procession from december to march, when the land of the sun is awakened by the first winter rain: sometimes this season commences with a fair rain in november, after a light shower or two in october, but some of the very best seasons begin about the time that all begin to lose hope. november adds its full tribute to the stream of sunshine that for months has poured along the land; and, perhaps, december closes the long file of cloudless days with banners of blue and gold. the plains and slopes lie bare and brown; the low hills that break away from them are yellow with dead foxtail or wild oats, gray with mustard-stalks, or ashy green with chemisal or sage. even the chaparral, that robes the higher hills in living green, has a tired air, and the long timber-line that marks the cañon winding up the mountain-slopes is decidedly paler. the sea-breeze has fallen off to a faint breath of air; the land lies silent and dreamy with golden haze; the air grows drier, the sun hotter, and the shade cooler; the smoke of brush-fires hangs at times along the sky; the water has risen in the springs and sloughs as if to meet the coming rain, but it has never looked less like rain than it now does. suddenly a new wind arises from the vast watery plains upon the south-west; long, fleecy streams of cloud reach out along the sky; the distant mountain-tops seem swimming in a film of haze, and the great california weather prophet--a creature upon whom the storms of adverse experience have beaten for years without making even a weather crack in the smooth cheek of his conceit--lavishes his wisdom as confidently as if he had never made a false prediction. after a large amount of fuss, and enough preliminary skirmishing over the sky for a dozen storms in any eastern state, the clouds at last get ready, and a soft pattering is heard upon the roof--the sweetest music that ever cheers a californian ear, and one which the author of "the rain upon the roof" should have heard before writing his poem. when the sun again appears it is with a softer, milder beam than before. the land looks bright and refreshed, like a tired and dirty boy who has had a good bath and a nap, and already the lately bare plains and hill-sides show a greenish tinge. fine little leaves of various kinds are springing from the ground, but nearly all are lost in a general profusion of dark green ones, of such shape and delicacy of texture that a careless eye might readily take them for ferns. this is the alfileria, the prevailing flower of the land. the rain may continue at intervals. daily the land grows greener, while the shades of green, varied by the play of sunlight on the slopes and rolling hills, increase in number and intensity. here the color is soft, and there bright; yonder it rolls in wavy alternations, and yonder it reaches in an unbroken shade where the plain sweeps broad and free. for many weeks green is the only color, though cold nights may perhaps tinge it with a rusty red. about the first of february a little starlike flower of bluish pink begins to shine along the ground. this is the bloom of the alfileria, and swiftly it spreads from the southern slopes, where it begins, and runs from meadow to hill-top. soon after a cream-colored bell-flower begins to nod from a tall, slender stalk; another of sky-blue soon opens beside it; beneath these a little five-petaled flower of deep pink tries to outshine the blossoms of the alfileria; and above them soon stands the radiant shooting-star, with reflexed petals of white, yellow, and pink shining behind its purplish ovaries. on every side violets, here of the purest golden hue and overpowering fragrance, appear in numbers beyond all conception. and soon six or seven varieties of clover, all with fine, delicate leaves, unfold flowers of yellow, red, and pink. delicate little crucifers of white and yellow shine modestly below all these; little cream-colored flowers on slender scapes look skyward on every side; while others of purer white, with every variety of petal, crowd up among them. standing now upon some hill-side that commands miles of landscape, one is dazzled with a blaze of color, from acres and acres of pink, great fields of violets, vast reaches of blue, endless sweeps of white. upon this--merely the warp of the carpet about to cover the land--the sun fast weaves a woof of splendor. along the southern slopes of the lower hills soon beams the orange light of the poppy, which swiftly kindles the adjacent slopes, then flames along the meadow, and blazes upon the northern hill-sides. spires of green, mounting on every side, soon open upon the top into lilies of deep lavender, and the scarlet bracts of the painted-cup glow side by side with the crimson of the cardinal-flower. and soon comes the iris, with its broad golden eye fringed with rays of lavender blue; and five varieties of phacelia overwhelm some places with waves of purple, blue, indigo, and whitish pink. the evening primrose covers the lower slopes with long sheets of brightest yellow, and from the hills above the rock-rose adds its golden bloom to that of the sorrel and the wild alfalfa, until the hills almost outshine the bright light from the slopes and plains. and through all this nods a tulip of most delicate lavender; vetches, lupins, and all the members of the wild-pea family are pushing and winding their way everywhere in every shade of crimson, purple, and white; along the ground crowfoot weaves a mantle of white, through which, amid a thousand comrades, the orthocarpus rears its tufted head of pink. among all these are mixed a thousand other flowers, plenty enough as plenty would be accounted in other countries, but here mere pin-points on a great map of colors. as the stranger gazes upon this carpet that now covers hill and dale, undulates over the table-lands, and robes even the mountain with a brilliancy and breadth of color that strikes the eye from miles away, he exhausts his vocabulary of superlatives, and goes away imagining he has seen it all. yet he has seen only the background of an embroidery more varied, more curious and splendid, than the carpet upon which it is wrought. asters bright with centre of gold and lavender rays soon shine high above the iris, and a new and larger tulip of deepest yellow nods where its lavender cousin is drooping its lately proud head. new bell-flowers of white and blue and indigo rise above the first, which served merely as ushers to the display, and whole acres ablaze with the orange of the poppy are fast turning with the indigo of the larkspur. where the ground was lately aglow with the marigold and the four-o'clock the tall penstemon now reaches out a hundred arms full-hung with trumpets of purple and pink. here the silene rears high its head with fringed corolla of scarlet; and there the wild gooseberry dazzles the eye with a perfect shower of tubular flowers of the same bright color. the mimulus alone is almost enough to color the hills. half a dozen varieties, some with long, narrow, trumpet-shaped flowers, others with broad flaring mouths; some of them tall herbs, and others large shrubs, with varying shades of dark red, light red, orange, cream-color, and yellow, spangle hill-side, rock-pile, and ravine. among them the morning-glory twines with flowers of purest white, new lupins climb over the old ones, and the trailing vetch festoons rock and shrub and tree with long garlands of crimson, purple, and pink. over the scarlet of the gooseberry or the gold of the high-bush mimulus along the hills, the honeysuckle hangs its tubes of richest cream-color, and the wild cucumber pours a shower of white over the green leaves of the sumach or sage. snap-dragons of blue and white, dandelions that you must look at three or four times to be certain what they are, thistles that are soft and tender with flowers too pretty for the thistle family, orchids that you may try in vain to classify, and sages and mints of which you can barely recognize the genera, with cruciferæ, compositæ, and what-not, add to the glare and confusion. meanwhile, the chaparral, which during the long dry season has robed the hills in sombre green, begins to brighten with new life; new leaves adorn the ragged red arms of the manzanita, and among them blow thousands of little urn-shaped flowers of rose-color and white. the bright green of one lilac is almost lost in a luxuriance of sky-blue blossoms, and the white lilac looks at a distance as if drifted over with snow. the cercocarpus almost rivals the lilac in its display of white and blue, and the dark, forbidding adenostoma now showers forth dense panicles of little white flowers. here, too, a new mimulus pours floods of yellow light, and high above them all the yucca rears its great plume of purple and white. thus marches on for weeks the floral procession, new turns bringing new banners into view, or casting on old ones a brighter light, but ever showing a riotous profusion of splendor until member after member drops gradually out of the ranks, and only a band of stragglers is left marching away into the summer. but myriads of ferns, twenty-one varieties of which are quite common, and of a fineness and delicacy rarely seen elsewhere, still stand green in the shade of the rocks and trees along the hills, and many a flower lingers in the timber or cañons long after its friends on the open hills or plains have faded away. in the cañons and timber are also many flowers that are not found in the open ground, and as late as the middle of september, only twenty miles from the sea, and at an elevation of but fifteen hundred feet, i have gathered bouquets that would attract immediate attention anywhere. the whole land abounds with flowers both curious and lovely; but those only have been mentioned which force themselves upon one's attention. where the sheep have not ruined all beauty, and the rains have been sufficient, they take as full possession of the land as the daisy and wild carrot do of some eastern meadows. there are thousands of others, which it would be a hopeless task to enumerate, which are even more numerous than most of the favorite wild flowers are in the east, yet they are not abundant enough to give character to the country. for instance, there is a great larkspur, six feet high, with a score of branching arms, all studded with spurred flowers of such brilliant red that it looks like a fountain of strontium fire; but you will not see it every time you turn around. a tall lily grows in the same way, with a hundred golden flowers shining on its many arms, but it must be sought in certain places. so the tiger-lily and the columbine must be sought in the mountains, the rose and sweetbrier on low ground, the night-shades and the helianthus in the timbered cañons and gulches. delicacy and brilliancy characterize nearly all the california flowers, and nearly all are so strange, so different from the other members of their families, that they would be an ornament to any greenhouse. the alfileria, for instance, is the richest and strongest fodder in the world. it is the main-stay of the stock-grower, and when raked up after drying makes excellent hay; yet it is a geranium, delicate and pretty, when not too rank. but suddenly the full blaze of color is gone, and the summer is at hand. brown tints begin to creep over the plains; the wild oats no longer ripple in silvery waves beneath the sun and wind; and the foxtail, that shone so brightly green along the hill-side, takes on a golden hue. the light lavender tint of the chorizanthe now spreads along the hills where the poppy so lately flamed, and over the dead morning-glory the dodder weaves its orange floss. a vast army of cruciferæ and compositæ soon overruns the land with bright yellow, and numerous varieties of mint tinge it with blue or purple; but the greater portion of the annual vegetation is dead or dying. the distant peaks of granite now begin to glow at evening with a soft purple hue; the light poured into the deep ravines towards sundown floods them with a crimson mist; on the shady hill-sides the chaparral looks bluer, and on the sunny hill-sides is a brighter green than before. comparative temperature around the world. the following table, published by the pasadena board of trade, shows the comparative temperature of well-known places in various parts of the world, arranged according to the difference between their average winter and average summer: ----------------------------------------------------------------------place. | winter.| spring.| summer.| autumn.| difference | | | | | summer, | | | | | winter. ----------------------------------------------------------------------funchal, madeira | 62.88 | 64.55 | 70.89 | 70.19 | 8.01 st. michael, azores | 57.83 | 61.17 | 68.33 | 62.33 | 10.50 pasadena | 56.00 | 61.07 | 67.61 | 62.31 | 11.61 santa cruz, canaries | 64.65 | 68.87 | 76.68 | 74.17 | 12.03 santa barbara | 54.29 | 59.45 | 67.71 | 63.11 | 13.42 nassau, bahama islands | 70.67 | 77.67 | 86.00 | 80.33 | 15.33 san diego, california | 54.09 | 60.14 | 69.67 | 64.63 | 15.58 cadiz, spain | 52.90 | 59.93 | 70.43 | 65.35 | 17.53 lisbon, portugal | 53.00 | 60.00 | 71.00 | 62.00 | 18.00 malta | 57.46 | 62.76 | 78.20 | 71.03 | 20.74 algiers | 55.00 | 66.00 | 77.00 | 60.00 | 22.00 st augustine, florida | 58.25 | 68.69 | 80.36 | 71.90 | 22.11 rome, italy | 48.90 | 57.65 | 72.16 | 63.96 | 23.26 sacramento, california | 47.92 | 59.17 | 71.19 | 61.72 | 23.27 mentone | 49.50 | 60.00 | 73.00 | 56.60 | 23.50 nice, italy | 47.88 | 56.23 | 72.26 | 61.63 | 24.44 new orleans, louisiana | 56.00 | 69.37 | 81.08 | 69.80 | 25.08 cairo, egypt | 58.52 | 73.58 | 85.10 | 71.48 | 26.58 jacksonville, florida | 55.02 | 68.88 | 81.93 | 62.54 | 96.91 pau, france | 41.86 | 54.06 | 70.72 | 57.39 | 28.86 florence, italy | 44.30 | 56.00 | 74.00 | 60.70 | 29.70 san antonio, texas | 52.74 | 70.48 | 83.73 | 71.56 | 30.99 aiken, south carolina | 45.82 | 61.32 | 77.36 | 61.96 | 31.54 fort yuma, california | 57.96 | 73.40 | 92.07 | 75.66 | 34.11 visalia, california | 45.38 | 59.40 | 80.78 | 60.34 | 35.40 santa fé, new mexico | 30.28 | 50.06 | 70.50 | 51.34 | 40.22 boston, mass | 28.08 | 45.61 | 68.68 | 51.04 | 40.60 new york, n. y. | 31.93 | 48.26 | 72.62 | 48.50 | 40.69 albuquerque, new mexico| 34.78 | 56.36 | 76.27 | 56.33 | 41.40 denver, colorado, | 27.66 | 46.33 | 71.66 | 47.16 | 44.00 st. paul, minnesota | 15.09 | 41.29 | 68.03 | 44.98 | 52.94 minneapolis, minnesota | 12.87 | 40.12 | 68.34 | 45.33 | 55.47 ----------------------------------------------------------------------california and italy. the los angeles chamber of commerce, in its pamphlet describing that city and county, gives a letter from the signal service observer at sacramento, comparing the temperature of places in california and italy. he writes: to prove to your many and intelligent readers the equability and uniformity of the climate of santa barbara, san diego, and los angeles, as compared with mentone and san remo, of the riviera of italy and of corfu, i append the monthly temperature for each place. please notice a much warmer temperature in winter at the california stations, and also a much cooler summer temperature at the same places than at any of the foreign places, except corfu. the table speaks with more emphasis and certainty than i can, and is as follows: +-----------+---------+-----------+----------+----------+---------+---------+ | | san | santa | los | | san | | | month. | diego's | barbara's | angeles' | mentone's| remo's | corfu's | | | mean temperature. | +-----------+---------+-----------+----------+----------+---------+---------+ |january | 53.7 | 54.4 | 52.8 | 48.2 | 47.2 | 53.6 | |february | 54.2 | 55.6 | 54.2 | 48.5 | 50.2 | 51.8 | |march | 55.6 | 56.4 | 56.0 | 52.0 | 52.0 | 53.6 | |april | 57.8 | 58.8 | 57.9 | 57.2 | 57.0 | 58.3 | |may | 61.1 | 60.2 | 61.0 | 63.0 | 62.9 | 66.7 | |june | 64.4 | 62.6 | 65.5 | 70.0 | 69.2 | 72.3 | |july | 67.3 | 65.7 | 68.3 | 75.0 | 74.3 | 67.7 | |august | 68.7 | 67.0 | 69.5 | 75.0 | 73.8 | 81.3 | |september | 66.6 | 65.6 | 67.5 | 69.0 | 70.6 | 78.8 | |october | 62.5 | 62.1 | 62.7 | 74.4 | 61.8 | 70.8 | |november | 58.2 | 58.0 | 58.8 | 54.0 | 58.3 | 63.8 | |december | 55.5 | 55.3 | 54.8 | 49.0 | 49.3 | 68.4 | | | | | | | | | | averages | 60.6 | 60.2 | 60.4 | 60.4 | 60.1 | 65.6 | +-----------+---------+-----------+----------+----------+---------+---------+ the table on pages 210 and 211, "extremes of heat and cold," is published by the san diego land and farm company, whose pamphlet says: the united states records at san diego signal station show that in ten years there were but 120 days on which the mercury passed 80°. of these 120 there were but 41 on which it passed 85°, but 22 when it passed 90°, but four over 95°, and only one over 100°; to wit, 101°, the highest ever recorded here. during all this time there was not a day on which the mercury did not fall to at least 70° during the night, and there were but five days on which it did not fall even lower. during the same ten years there were but six days on which the mercury fell below 35°. this low temperature comes only in extremely dry weather in winter, and lasts but a few minutes, happening just before sunrise. on two of these six days it fell to 32° at daylight, the lowest point ever registered here. the lowest mid-day temperature is 52°, occurring only four times in these ten years. from 65° to 70° is the average temperature of noonday throughout the greater part of the year. five years in santa barbara. [transcriber's note: table has been turned from original to fit, along with using abbreviations for the months and a legend.] the following table, from the self-registering thermometer in the observatory of mr. hugh d. vail, shows the mean temperature of each month in the years 1885 to 1889 at santa barbara, and also the mean temperature of the warmest and coldest days in each month: a = mean temperature of each month. b = mean temperature of warmest day. c = mean temperature of coldest day. d = monthly rainfall, inches. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- month. jan.| feb.| mar. | apr.| may | june| july| aug.| sep.| oct.| nov.| dec. -----------------------------------------------------------------------------1885. a|53.2 | 56.7 |59.1 |60.9 |60.0 |62.0 | 66.1| 68.0| 66.9| 63.0|58.9 | 57.2 b|57.0 | 65.5 |62,5 |70.5 |64.6 |68.0 | 73.0| 78.8| 78.8| 72.0|64.8 | 65.7 c|49.5 | 51,5 |56.0 |54.0 |54.0 |58.5 | 62.2| 62.5| 72.0| 58.5|50.0 | 52.0 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------1886. a|55.0 | 59.6 |53.1 |55.7 |60.5 |62.0 | 66.3| 68.2| 63.8| 58.3|56.3 | 55.8 b|73.5 | 70.0 |59.5 |61.5 |65.5 |67.5 | 72.0| 72.0| 68.3| 62.5|66.2 | 65.8 c|47.5 | 45.0 |46.2 |50.5 |54.0 |58.5 | 63.3| 63.2| 57.0| 51.7|49.8 | 49.5 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------1887. a|54.67| 50.4 |57.0 |58.43|60.0 |63.7 | 64.6| 64.8| 66.0| 65.0|58.9 | 52.8 b|63.5 | 61.1 |64.8 |66.8 |67.0 |79.0 | 71.3| 69.7| 70.5| 74.0|65.3 | 59.6 c|49.0 | 45.3 |52.0 |51.0 |53.3 |59.0 | 60.9| 62.0| 61.5| 59.3|47.5 | 49.0 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------1888. a|49.0 | 53.8 |53.0 |59.9 |57.6 |64.4 | 67.0| 66.3| 67.9| 63.5|59 8 |.56.5 b|58.7 | 57.5 |60.5 |75.0 |64.5 |69.0 | 72.0| 72.0| 76.2| 76.9|61.3 | 63.0 c|41.0 | 49.0 |46.0 |53.0 |51.7 |59.5 | 63.0| 63.5| 63.2| 59.0|54.5 | 52.0 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------1889. a|53.0 | 55.4 |58.0 |59.9 |60.0 |62.5 | 64.2| 67.3| 68.8| 63.9|59.6 | 54.4 b|58.0 | 65.0 |67.0 |72.7 |68.5 |65.7 | 84.0| 77.0| 78.0| 70.3|65.7 | 60.7 c|48.8 | 45.5 |52.5 |52.7 |54.5 |58.5 | 61.0| 63.0| 62.0| 60.0|54.5 | 50.0 d| 0.29| 1.29| 7.31| 0.49| 0.76| 0.13| ...| ... | ... | 8.69| 3.21| 10.64 observations made at san diego city, compiled from report of the chief signal officer of the u. s. army. [transcriber's note: table has been modified from original to fit, using abbreviations for the months and a legend.] column headers: a = average number of cloudy days for each month and year. b = average number of fair days for each month and year. c = average number of clear days for each month and year. d = average cloudiness, scale 0 to 10, for each month and year. e = average hourly velocity of wind for each month and year. f = average precipitation for each month and year. g = minimum temperature for each month and year. h = maximum temperature for each month and year. i = mean temperature for each month and year. j = mean normal barometer of san diego for each month and year for four years. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- | observations extending over a period of twelve years. month. | a | b | c | d | e f | g | h | i | j ---------+------------------------------------------------------------+------january | 8.5 | 11.2 | 11.3 | 4.1 | 5.1 | 1.85 | 32.0 | 78.0 | 53.6 | 30.027 february | 7.9 | 11.3 | 9.0 | 4.4 | 6.0 | 2.07 | 35.0 | 82.6 | 54.3 | 30.058 march | 9.6.| 12.7 | 8.7 | 4.8 | 6.4 | 0.97 | 38.0 | 99.0 | 55.7 | 30.004 april | 7.9 | 11.9 | 10.2 | 4.4 | 6.6 | 0.68 | 39.0 | 87.0 | 57.7 | 29.965 may |10.9 | 12.1 | 8.0 | 5.2 | 6.7 | 0.26 | 45.4 | 94.0 | 61.0 | 29.893 june | 8.1.| 15.2 | 6.7 | 5.0 | 6.3 | 0.05 | 51.0 | 94.0 | 64.4 | 29.864 july | 6.7 | 16.1 | 8.2 | 4.7 | 6.3 | 0.02 | 54.0 | 86.0 | 67.1 | 29.849 august | 4.7 | 16.9 | 9.4 | 4.1 | 6.0 | 0.23 | 54.0 | 86.0 | 68.7 | 29.894 september| 4.4 | 13.9 | 11.7 | 3.7 | 5.9 | 0.05 | 49.5 |101.0 | 66.8 | 29.840 october | 5.6 | 12.6 | 12.8 | 3.9 | 5.4 | 0.49 | 44.0 | 92.0 | 62.9 | 29.905 november | 6.5 | 10.0 | 13.5 | 3.6 | 5.1 | 0.70 | 38.0 | 85.0 | 58.3 | 29.991 december | 6.6 | 11.2 | 13.2 | 3.7 | 5.1 | 2.12 | 32.0 | 82.0 | 55.6 | 30.009 mean | | | | | | | | | | annual |87.4 |155.1 |122.7 | 4.3 | 5.9.| 9.49 | 42.6 | 88.8 | 60.5 | 29.942 -----------------------------------------------------------------------------extremes of heat and cold. the following table, taken from the report of the chief signal officer, shows the highest and lowest temperatures recorded since the opening of stations of the signal service at the points named, for the number of years indicated. an asterisk (*) denotes below zero: a = maximum b = minimum c = number of years of observation. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ | | jan. | feb. | march.| april.| may. | june.| ------------------------------------------------------------------------locality of station | c | a | b | a | b | a | b | a | b | a | b | a | b | ------------------------------------------------------------------------charleston, s. c. | 12| 80| 23| 78| 26| 85| 28| 87| 32| 94| 47| 94| 65| denver, col. | 12| 67|*29| 72|*22| 81|*10| 83| 4| 92| 27| 89| 50| jacksonville, fla. | 12| 80| 24| 83| 32| 88| 31| 91| 37| 99| 48|101| 62| l's ang'les, cal. | 6| 82| 30| 86| 28| 99| 34| 94| 39|100| 40|104| 47| new orleans, la. | 13| 78| 20| 80| 33| 84| 37| 86| 38| 92| 56| 97| 65| newport, r. i. | 2| 48| 2| 50| 4| 60| 4| 62| 26| 75| 33| 91| 41| new york | 13| 64| *6| 69| *4| 72| *3| 81| 20| 94| 34| 95| 47| pensacola, fla. | 4| 74| 29| 78| 31| 79| 36| 87| 34| 93| 47| 97| 64| san diego, cal. | 12| 78| 32| 83| 35| 99| 38| 87| 39| 94| 45| 94| 51| san francisco, cal. | 12| 69| 36| 71| 35| 77| 39| 81| 40| 86| 45| 95| 48| ------------------------------------------------------------------------extremes of heat and cold.--_continued._ ------------------------------------------------------------------------ | | july.| aug. | sept. | oct. | nov. | dec. | ------------------------------------------------------------------------locality of station | c | a | b | a | b | a | b | a | b | a | b | a | b | ------------------------------------------------------------------------charleston, s. c. | 12| 94| 69| 96| 69| 94| 64| 89| 49| 81| 33| 78| 22| denver, col. | 12| 91| 59| 93| 60| 93| 51| 84| 38| 73| 23| 69| 1| jacksonville, fla. | 12|104| 68|100| 66| 98| 56| 92| 40| 84| 30| 81| 19| l's ang'les, cal. | 6| 98| 51|100| 50|104| 44| 97| 43| 86| 34| 88| 30| new orleans, la. | 13| 96| 70| 97| 69| 92| 58| 89| 40| 82| 32| 78| 20| newport, r. i. | 9| 87| 56| 85| 45| 77| 39| 75| 29| 62| 17| 56| *9| new york | 13| 99| 57| 96| 53|100| 36| 83| 31| 74| 7| 66| *6| pensacola, fla. | 4| 97| 64| 93| 69| 93| 57| 89| 45| 81| 28| 76| 17| san diego, cal. | 12| 86| 54| 86| 54|101| 50| 92| 44| 85| 38| 82| 32| san francisco, cal. | 12| 83| 49| 89| 50| 92| 50| 84| 45| 78| 41| 68| 34| ------------------------------------------------------------------------statements of small crops. the following statements of crops on small pieces of ground, mostly in los angeles county, in 1890, were furnished to the chamber of commerce in los angeles, and are entirely trustworthy. nearly all of them bear date august 1st. this is a fair sample from all southern california: peaches. ernest dewey, pomona--golden cling peaches, 10 acres, 7 years old, produced 47 tons green; sold dried for $4800; cost of production, $243.70; net profit, $4556.30. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. amount of rain, 28 inches, winter of 1889-90. h. h. rose, santa anita township (3/4 of a mile from lamanda park)--2-6/7 acres; produced 47,543 pounds; sold for $863.46; cost of production, $104; net profit, $759.46. soil, light sandy loam; not irrigated. produced in 1889 12,000 pounds, which sold at $1.70 per 100 pounds. e. r. thompson, azusa (2 miles south of depot)--2-1/6 acres, 233 trees, produced 57,655 pounds; sold for $864.82-1/2; cost of production, $140; net profit, $724.82-1/2. soil, sandy loam; irrigated three times in summer, 1 inch to 7 acres. trees 7 years old, not more than two-thirds grown. p. o'connor, downey--20 trees produced 4000 pounds; sold for $60; cost of production $5; net profit, $55. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. crop sold on the ground. h. hood, downey city (1/4 of a mile from depot)--1/4 of an acre produced 7-1/2 tons; sold for $150; cost of production, $10; net profit, $140. damp sandy soil; not irrigated. f. d. smith (between azusa and glendora, 1-1/4 miles from depot)--1 acre produced 14,361 pounds; sold for $252.51; cost of production, $20; net profit, $232.51. dark sandy loam; irrigated once. trees 5 and 6 years old. p. o. johnson, ranchito--17 trees, 10 years old, produced 4-3/4 tons; sold 4-1/4 tons for $120; cost of production, $10; net profit, $110; very little irrigation. sales were 1/2c. per pound under market rate. prunes. e. p. naylor (3 miles from pomona)--15 acres produced 149 tons; sold for $7450; cost of production, $527; net profit, $6923. soil, loam, with some sand; irrigated, 1 inch per 10 acres. w. h. baker, downey (1/2 a mile from depot)--1-1/2 acres produced 12,529 pounds; sold for $551.90; cost of production, $50; net profit, $501.90. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. howe bros. (2 miles from lordsburg)--800 trees, which had received no care for 2 years, produced 28 tons; sold for $1400; cost of production, $200; net profit, $1200. soil, gravelly loam, red; partially irrigated. messrs. howe state that they came into possession of this place in march, 1890. the weeds were as high as the trees and the ground was very hard. only about 500 of the trees had a fair crop on them. w. a. spalding, azusa--1/3 of an acre produced 10,404 pounds; sold for $156.06; cost of production, $10; net profit, $146.06. soil, sandy loam. e. a. hubbard, pomona (1-1/2 miles from depot)--4-1/2 acres produced 24 tons; sold green for $1080; cost of production, $280; net profit, $800. soil, dark sandy loam; irrigated. this entire ranch of 9 acres was bought in 1884 for $1575. f. m. smith (1-1/4 miles east of azusa)--3/5 of an acre produced 17,174 pounds; sold for $315.84; cost of production, $25; net profit, $290. soil, deep, dark sandy loam; irrigated once in the spring. trees 5 years old. george rhorer (1/2 of a mile east of north pomona)--13 acres produced 88 tons; sold for $4400 on the trees; cost of production, $260; net profit, $4140. soil, gravelly loam; irrigated, 1 inch to 8 acres. trees planted 5 years ago last spring. j. s. flory (between the big and little tejunga rivers)--1-1/3 acres or 135 trees 20 feet apart each way; 100 of the trees 4 years old, the balance of the trees 5 years old; produced 5230 pounds dried; sold for $523; cost of production, $18; net profit, $505. soil, light loam, with some sand; not irrigated. w. caruthers (2 miles north of downey)--3/4 of an acre produced 5 tons; sold for $222; cost of production, $7.50; net profit, $215. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. trees 4 years old. james loney, pomona--2 acres; product sold for $1150; cost of production, $50; net profit, $1100. soil, sandy loam. i. w. lord, eswena--5 acres produced 40 tons; sold for $2000; cost of production, $300; net profit, $1700. soil, sandy loam. m. b. moulton, pomona--3 acres; sold for $1873; cost of production, $215; net profit, $1658. soil, deep sandy loam. trees 9 years old. ernest dewey, pomona--6 acres produced 38 tons green; dried, at 10 cents a pound, $3147; cost of production, $403; profit, $2734. soil, sandy loam; irrigated one inch to 10 acres. sixty per cent. increase over former year. c. s. ambrose, pomona--12 acres produced 77 tons; $50 per ton gross, $3850; labor of one hand one year, $150; profit, $3700. soil, gravelly; very little irrigation. prunes sold on trees. oranges. joachim f. jarchow, san gabriel--2-1/2 acres; 10-year trees; product sold for $1650; cost of production $100, including cultivation of 7-1/2 acres, not bearing; net profit, $1550. f. d. smith, azusa--6-1/2 acres produced 600 boxes; sold for $1200; cost of production, $130; net profit, $1070. soil, dark sandy loam; irrigated three times. trees 4 years old. george lightfoot, south pasadena--5-1/2 acres produced 700 boxes; sold for $1100; cost of production, $50; net profit, $1050. soil, rich, sandy loam; irrigated once a year. h. hood, downey--1/2 of an acre produced 275 boxes; sold for $275; cost of production, $25; net profit, $250. soil, damp, sandy; not irrigated. w. g. earle, azusa--1 acre produced 210 boxes; sold for $262; cost of production, $15; net profit, $247. soil, sandy loam; irrigated four times. nathaniel hayden, vernon--4 acres; 986 boxes at $1.20 per box; sales, $1182; cost of production, $50; net profit, $1132. loam; irrigated. other products on the 4 acres. h. o. fosdick, santa ana--1 acre; 6 years old; 350 boxes; sales, $700; cost of production and packing, $50; net profit, $650. loam; irrigated. j. h. isbell, rivera--1 acre, 82 trees; 16 years old; sales, $600; cost of production, $25; profit, $575. irrigated. $1.10 per box for early delivery, $1.65 for later. grapes. william bernhard, monte vista--10 acres produced 25 tons; sold for $750; cost of production, $70; net profit, $680. soil, heavy loam; not irrigated. vines 5 years old. dillon, kennealy & mcclure, burbank (1 mile from roscoe station)--200 acres produced 90,000 gallons of wine; cost of production, $5000; net profit, about $30,000. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated; vineyard in very healthy condition. p. o'connor (2-1/2 miles south of downey)--12 acres produced 100 tons; sold for $1500; cost of production, $360; net profit, $1140. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. vines planted in 1884, when the land would not sell for $100 per acre. j. k. banks (1-3/4 miles from downey)--40 acres produced 250 tons; sold for $3900; cost of production, $1300; net profit, $2600. soil, sandy loam. berries. w. y. earle (2-1/2 miles from azusa)--strawberries, 2-1/2 acres produced 15,000 boxes; sold for $750; cost of production, $225; net profit, $525. soil, sandy loam; irrigated. shipped 3000 boxes to ogden, utah, and 6000 boxes to albuquerque and el paso. benjamin norris, pomona--blackberries, 1/4 of an acre produced 2500 pounds; sold for $100; cost of production, $5; net profit, $95. soil, light sandy; irrigated. s. h. eye, covina--raspberries, 5/9 of an acre produced 1800 pounds; sold for $195; cost of production, $85; net profit, $110. soil, sandy loam; irrigated. j. o. houser, covina--blackberries, 1/4 of an acre produced 648 pounds; sold for $71.28; cost of production, $18; net profit, $53.28. soil, sandy loam; irrigated. first year's crop. apricots. t. d. leslie (1 mile from pomona)--1 acre produced 10 tons; sold for $250; cost of production, $60; net profit, $190. soil, loose, gravelly; irrigated; 1 inch to 10 acres. first crop. george lightfoot, south pasadena--2 acres produced 11 tons; sold for $260; cost of production, $20; net profit, $240. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. t. d. smith, azusa--1 acre produced 13,555 pounds; sold for $169.44; cost of production, $25; net profit, $144.44. soil, sandy loam; irrigated once. trees 5 years old. w. y. earle (2-1/2 miles from azusa)--6 acres produced 6 tons; sold for $350; cost of production, $25; net profit, $325. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. trees 3 years old. w. a. spalding, azusa--335 trees produced 15,478 pounds; sold for $647.43; cost of production, $50; net profit, $597.43. soil, sandy loam. mrs. winkler, pomona--3/4 of an acre, 90 trees; product sold for $381; cost of production, $28.40; net profit, $352.60. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. only help, small boys and girls. miscellaneous fruits. e. a. bonine, lamanda park--apricots, nectarines, prunes, peaches, and lemons, 30 acres produced 160 tons; sold for $8000; cost of production, $1500; net profit, $6500. no irrigation. j. p. fleming (1-1/2 miles from rivera)--walnuts, 40 acres produced 12-1/2 tons; sold for $2120; cost of production, $120; net profit, $2000. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. george lightfoot, south pasadena--lemons, 2 acres produced 500 boxes; sold for $720; cost of production, $20; net profit, $700. soil, rich sandy loam; not irrigated. trees 10 years old. w. a. spalding, azusa--nectarines, 96 trees produced 19,378 pounds; sold for $242.22; cost of production, $35; net profit, $207.22. soil, sandy loam. f. d. smith, azusa--nectarines, 1-2/5 acres produced 36,350 pounds; sold for $363.50; cost of production, $35; net profit, $318.50. soil, deep dark sandy loam; irrigated once in spring. trees 5 and 6 years old. c. d. ambrose (4 miles north of pomona)--pears, 3 acres produced 33,422 pounds; sold green for $1092.66; cost of production, $57; net profit, $1035.66. soil, foot-hill loam; partly irrigated. n. hayden--statement of amount of fruit taken from 4 acres for one season at vernon district: 985 boxes oranges, 15 boxes lemons, 8000 pounds apricots, 2200 pounds peaches, 200 pounds loquats, 2500 pounds nectarines, 4000 pounds apples, 1000 pounds plums, 1000 pounds prunes, 1000 pounds figs, 150 pounds walnuts, 500 pounds pears. proceeds, $1650. a family of five were supplied with all the fruit they wanted besides the above. potatoes. o. bullis, compton--28-3/4 acres produced 3000 sacks; sold for $3000; cost of production, $500; net profit, $2500. soil, peat; not irrigated. this land has been in potatoes 3 years, and will be sown to cabbages, thus producing two crops this year. p. f. cogswell, el monte--25 acres produced 150 tons; sold for $3400; cost of production, $450; net profit, $2950. soil, sediment; not irrigated. m. metcalf, el monte--8 acres produced 64 tons; sold for $900; cost of production, $50; net profit, $850. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. jacob vernon (1-1/2 miles from covina)--3 acres produced 400 sacks; sold for $405.88; cost of production, $5; net profit, $400.88. soil, sandy loam; irrigated one acre. two-thirds of crop was volunteer. h. hood, downey--sweet potatoes, 1 acre produced 300 sacks; sold for $300; cost of production, $30; net profit, $270. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. c. c. stub, savannah (1 mile from depot)--10 acres produced 1000 sacks; sold for $2000; cost of production, $100; net profit, $1900. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. a grain crop was raised on the same land this year. onions. f. a. atwater and c. p. eldridge, clearwater--1 acre produced 211 sacks; sold for $211; cost of production, $100; net profit, $111. soil, sandy loam; no irrigation. at present prices the onions would have brought $633. charles lauber, downey--1 acre produced 113 sacks; sold for $642; cost of production, $50; net profit, $592. no attention was paid to the cultivation of this crop. soil, sandy loam; not irrigated. at present prices the same onions would have brought $803. miscellaneous vegetables. eugene lassene, university--pumpkins, 5 acres produced 150 loads; sold for $4 per load; cost of production, $3 per acre; net profit, $585. soil, sandy loam. a crop of barley was raised from the same land this year. p. k. wood, clearwater--pea-nuts, 3 acres produced 5000 pounds; sold for $250; cost of production, $40; net profit, $210. soil, light sandy; not irrigated. planted too deep, and got about one-third crop. oliver e. roberts (terrace farm, cahuenga valley)--3 acres tomatoes; sold product for $461.75. soil, foot-hill; not irrigated; second crop, watermelons. one-half acre green peppers; sold product for $54.30. 1-1/2 acres of green peas; sold product for $220. 17 fig-trees; first crop sold for $40. total product of 54 acres, $776.05. jacob miller, cahuenga--green peas, 10 acres; 43,615 pounds; sales, $3052; cost of production and marketing, $500; profit, $2552. soil, foot-hill; not irrigated. second crop, melons. w. w. bliss, duarte--honey, 215 stands; 15,000 pounds; sales, $785. mountain district. bees worth $1 to $3 per stand. james stewart, downey--figs, 3 acres; 20 tons, at $50, $1000. not irrigated; 26 inches rain; 1 acre of trees 16 years old, 2 acres 5 years. figs sold on trees. the mineral wealth of southern california is not yet appreciated. among the rare minerals which promise much is a very large deposit of tin in the temescal cañon, below south riverside. it is in the hands of an english company. it is estimated that there are 23 square miles rich in tin ore, and it is said that the average yield of tin is 20-1/4 per cent. index. acamo, 165, 170. adenostoma, 205. africa, 18. aiken, south carolina, temperature of, 207. ailantus, 134. alaska, 34. albuquerque, new mexico, 165. ---temperature of, 207. alfalfa, 23, 98, 101, 204. alfileria, 203, 206. algiers, temperature of, 207. alhambra, 124. almond, 18, 19, 101. alpine pass, 1. amalfi, 30. ambrose, c. d., 215. ambrose, ernest, 213. anacapa, 2. anaheim, 134. antelope, 114, 188. apples, 19, 96, 97, 127. ---prices and profits, 215. ---san diego, 97. apricots, 18, 19, 43, 92. ---prices and profits, 214, 215. arcadian station, 126. arizona, 5, 149, 164, 173, 177. ---cattle company, 186. ---desert, 79. arrow-head hot springs, 117. artist point, 154. atlantic, 5, 18, 47, 165, 198. atwater, f. a., 216. aubrey sandstones, 195. australian lady-bug, 129. ---navels, 120. azusa, 211-215. baker, w. h., 212. baldwin plantation, 127. banana, 19, 134. bancroft, h. h., 56. banks, j. k., 214. banning, 96. barley, 8, 14, 25, 138. ---prices and profits, 216. beans, 138. bear valley dam, 117, 118. bees, 217. bell-flower, 204. bernhard, william, 214. berries, 141. big tejunga river, 212. big trees (mariposa), 150, 156-161. birch, 134. blackberries--prices and profits, 214. bliss, w. w., 217. bohemia töplitz waters, 163. bonine, e. a., 215. boston, massachusetts, temperature of, 207. bozenta (count), 134. brandy, 136. breezes, 70, 123, 184, 203. (see winds.) bright angel amphitheatre, 195. buenaventura, 138. bullis, o., 215 burbank, 214. cactus, 69, 165. cadiz, spain. temperature of, 207. cahuenga valley, 216. cairo, egypt, temperature of, 207. capri, 30, 80. carlisle school, 168. carlsbad, 163. carrot (wild), 206. caruthers, w., 213. cataract cañon, 182. cedars, 185, 186. cereals, 12. (see grains.) chalcedony park, 183. chamber of commerce, los angeles, 211. ------san diego, 143. chaparral, 81, 202, 205, 206. charleston, south carolina, temperature of, 210, 211. chautauqua, the, 76. chemisal, 202. cherries, 43. chief signal officer, u. s. a., report of, 210. china trade, 142. chorizanthe, 206. chula vista, 144. clearwater, 216. climate, 4-6, 9, 29, 43, 45, 48, 130, 140, 142, 146. ---adapted to health, 29, 37, 38, 45, 46. ---adapted to recreation, 70. ---compared to european, 5; to italian, 18; to mediterranean, 18; to tangierian, 46. ---discussed and described, 10, 38, 44, 45. ---affected by ocean and deserts, 4, 8, 29, 45. ---effect on character, 88. ---effect on disease, 50. ---effect on fruits, 10. ---effect on horses, 55. ---effect on longevity, 56, 59, 62. ---effect on seasons, 10, 43, 65, 66. ---hufeland on, 52. ---insular, 76. ---in various altitudes, 46. ---johnson (dr.) on, 201. ---of coronado beach, 47, 81, 87. ---of new mexico, 164. ---of pasadena, 130. ---of san diego, 49. ---of winter, 43, 48. ---van dyke on, 6, 78. climatic regions, 4. clover, 204. cogswell, p. f., 216. colorado desert, 2-5, 6, 33, 34, 46. ---grand cañon, 149. (see grand cañon.) ---plateau, 182. ------description of, 177. ---river, 8, 197, 199. ------course described, 177. columbine, 206. como, 1. compton, 215. concord coach, 184. cooper, ellwood, 125. corfu, temperature of, 208. corn, 9, 12, 14, 25, 98. coronado beach, 29, 33, 47, 87, 202. ------climate, 47, 81, 87. ------description of, 80-87. ---islands, 30. ---vasques de, 32, 165. covina, 214, 216. cremation among indians, 60. crossthwaite, philip, longevity of, 61. crowfoot, 204. crucifers, 204. cucumbers, 205. cuyamaca (mountain) 6, 18, 33, 37. ----(reservoir), 144. cypress (monterey), 49, 82, 130. ---point (tree), 161. ------description of, 162. cypriote ware, 169. cyprus, 82, 134. daisy, 206. dandelion, 205. date (palms), 19, 42, 49, 85, 134. denver, colorado, temperature of, 207, 210, 211. deserts, 2-7, 84, 79. ---affecting climate, 4, 8, 29, 45. ---describing beauty of, 175. dewey, ernest, 211, 213. dew-falls, 123. dillon, kennealy & mcclure, 214. district of the grand cañon--area described, 177. downey, 211-214, 216, 217. ---city, 211. duarte, 217. dutton, captain c. e., 181, 194, 198. earle, w. g., 213. earle, w. y., 214, 215. east san gabriel hotel, 127. eaton cañon, 130. egypt, 178. el cajon, 37, 56, 79, 111, 144. el capitan, 154. eldridge, c. p., 216. elm, 134. el monte, 216. english walnut, 18, 19, 34, 48, 101, 129, 134. escondido, 140, 141. eswena, 213. eucalyptus, 23, 48, 112, 123, 134. eye, s. h., 214. fan-palm, 49, 134. fern (australian), 123, 205. fig, 18, 19, 34, 101, 141, 144, 147. ---cultivation discussed, 34. ---prices and profits, 215-217. flagstaff, 182, 183, 199. fleming, j. p., 215. florence hotel, 80. florence, italy, temperature of, 207. flory, j. s., 212. fogs, 4, 8, 38, 47, 123. fort yuma, california, temperature of, 207. fosdick, h. o., 213. foxtail, 206. franciscan fathers, 42. franciscan missions, 24. fresno, 115, 128. frosts, 10, 19, 123. fruits, 9, 12, 13, 15, 18, 20, 37, 43, 46, 47, 96, 141, 144, 198. fruits compared to european, 18. ---cultivation and speculation discussed, 20, 93, 107, 140. ---great region for, 97. ---grouped, 18, 19, 92, 94-96, 101, 115, 127, 211-217. ---lands adapted to, 37, 46, 96. ---orchards, 67, 165. ---rapid growth of, 115. ---riverside method for, 104. ---winter, 48. fumigation, cost of, 124, 129. funchal, madeira, temperature of, 207. gardens, 46, 67, 147, 165. geraniums, 49. glendora, 212. golden gate, 42. gooseberry, 205. government land, 93. grain, 12, 14, 15, 19, 23, 25, 140. grand cañon, 149, 178, 181. ------area of district of, 177. ------description of, 181, 182, 190-200. ------journey to the, 182-190. grapes, 15, 18, 19, 92, 93, 98, 101. ---diseases of, 128. ---old mission, 128. ---prices and profits of, 96. ---raisin. (see raisins.) grape-vines, 79, 91, 123. ------on small farms, 107. ------prices and profits of, 96. ------santa anita, 127. grayback (mountain), 34, 46. great wash fault, 178, 182. _grevillea robusta_, 123. guava, 19, 134. gums, 138. hance (guide), 198, 199. harvard observatory, 130. hawaii islands, 5. hayden, nathaniel, 213, 215. helianthus, 206. heliotrope, 10, 41, 49. hesperia, 96. hindoo amphitheatre, 195. holbrook, 183. honey--prices and profits of, 217. honeysuckle, 205. hood, h., 211, 213, 216. horses, 55, 70. hotel del coronado, 29, 87. ---del monte park, 161. ---raymond, 79, 130, 133. hot springs (las vegas), 163, 164. houser, j. o., 214. houses, suggestions on, 68. howe bros., 212. hubbard, e. a., 212. hufeland, on climate and health, 52. humidity, 38, 43. huntington, dr., 50. hurricane ledge or fault, 182. _icerya purchasi_, 129. indiana settlement, 94. indians, 55, 187, 188 ---affected by climate, 55. ---converted by missionaries, 24. ---longevity of, 59. ---mojave, 2, 169. ---navajos, 170, 183. ---oualapai, 188. ---pueblo, 165. ------at acamo, 165. ------at isleta, 165. ------at laguna, 165-173. ingo county, 34. inspiration point, 150, 154. iris, 204. irrigation, 97, 117, 147, 165. ---at pasadena, 130. ---at pomona, 15, 94, 124, 211, 215. ---at redlands, 102, 104, 118. ---at san diego, 144. ---at santa ana, 134. ---by companies, 94. ---by natural means, 11, 14, 37. ---cost of, 98. ---for apricots, berries, grapes, onions, oranges, peaches, potatoes, prunes, vegetables, 211-217. ---for orchards, 120. ---for wheat, 100. ---in relation to fruits and crops, 19, 99, 100, 101. ---necessity of, 15, 19, 88. ---results of, discussed, 12, 14, 15. ---riverside method of, 102, 104. ---three methods of, 102. ---van dyke on, 102, 103. isbell, j. h., 213. ischia, 30. isleta, 165. isthmus route, 142. italy, 1, 2, 4, 18, 68, 69, 75, 87. (see our italy.) ives, lieutenant, 181. jacksonville, florida, temperature of, 207, 210, 211. japanese persimmon, 134. japan trade, 142. jarchom, joachim f., 213. johnson, dr. h. a., on climate, 201. johnson, p. o., 212. josephites, 117. julian (rainfall), 48. kaibab plateau, 178, 181, 182. kanab cañon, 178, 182. kanab plateau, 178, 181, 182. kelp, 38, 161. kentucky racers, 55. kern county, 16, 94, 114. kimball, f. a., 125. king river, 114. labor, "boom" prices of, 109. ---necessity of, 108. ladies' annex, 143. laguna--climate of, 174. ---description of, 165-168. ---indians at, 165-173. lamanda park, 215. land, 12, 14, 23, 147. ---adapted to apricots, berries, grapes, onions, oranges, peaches, potatoes, prunes, vegetables, 211-217. ---adapted to fruits, 97, 141. ---arable, 93, 140, 142, 145. ---capabilities of, 17, 91-95, 114. ---converted from deserts, 94. ---crops adapted to, 108. ---elements constituting value of, 95. ---experiments of settlers on, 111. ---for farms and gardens, 107. ---government, 93. ---of the sun, 147, 202. ---profits and prices of, 20, 23, 95-98, 117. ---raisin, 114. ---speculations in, 24, 107, 143. la playa, 33. larkspur, 205, 206. las flores, 140. lassene, eugene, 216. las vegas hot springs, 163, 164. lauber, charles, 216. lee's ferry, 199. lemons, 1, 18, 19, 79, 93, 107, 129, 137, 144. leslie, t. d., 214. lightfoot, george, 213, 214. lilac, 205. lilies, 204, 206. limes, 18. lisbon, portugal, temperature of, 207. little colorado river, 177, 181, 182. little tejunga river, 212. live-oaks, 49, 69, 72, 79, 127, 134, 140, 161. locust, 134. lombardy, 1. loney, james, 213. longevity at el cajon, 56. ---at san diego, 59, 60. ---climatic influence on, 56, 59, 62. ---dr. bancroft on, 56. ---dr. palmer on, 59, 60. ---dr. remondino on, 52. ---dr. winder on, 56. ---father ubach on, 59, 62. ---hufeland on, 52. longevity, philip crossthwaite, story of, 61. loquats, 21. ---prices and profits of, 215. lord, i. w., 213. lordsburg, 212. los angeles, 12, 15, 16, 26, 46, 71, 76, 79, 94, 95, 97, 124, 128, 129, 133-135. ------assessment roll and birth rate of, 136. ------climate of, 12, 15, 26, 76, 79, 95, 124, 129, 133. ------county, 211. ------description of, 135, 136. ------report of chamber of commerce of, 207, 211. ------river, 11, 99. ------temperature of, 44, 207, 210, 211. ------wines, 136. los coronados, 2. lupins, 205. maggiore, 1. magnolia, 41, 48, 123. maguey, 69. malta, temperature of, 207. manitoba, 5. manzanita, 205. maple, 134. marble cañon, 177. marguerites, 82. marienbad, 163. marigold, 205. mariposa (big trees), 150, 156-161. martinique, 48. mediterranean--climate of the, 37, 46, 80. ---fruits and products of the, 18. ---our, 18, 46. mentone, 6. ---temperature of, 207, 208. merced river, 150, 155. meserve plantation, 124. metcalf, m., 216. methusaleh of trees, 158. mexican gulf, 18. ---ranch house, 67. mexico, 2, 11, 30, 33, 40, 47. ---small-pox from, 64. miller, jacob, 216. mimulus, 205. minerals, 142. minneapolis, minnesota, temperature of, 207. mint, 205, 206. mirror lake, 154. mission cañon, 75. ---of san diego, 60. ---of san tomas, 60. mississippi valley, 38. modjeska, madame, 134. moisture in relation to health, 201. mojave desert, 2, 7. ---indians, 7, 169. montecito (santa barbara), 123. monterey, 42, 47, 49, 72, 149. ---cypress, 82, 130. ---description of, 161, 162. monte vista, 214. montezuma, 164. ---hotel, 163. monticello, 75. mormons, 117. morning-glory, 205. moulton, m. b., 213. mount whitney, 34. ---wilson, 130. murillo--pictures by, 26. mustard stalks, 202. mütterlager, 163. naples, 34. nassau, bahama islands, temperature of, 207. national city, 33, 79, 125, 144. ---soldiers' home, 76. navajo indians, 170, 183. ---mountains, 196. naylor, e. p., 212. neah bay, 47, 76. nebraska, 175. nectarines, 19, 92. ---prices and profits of, 215. nevadas, 34, 150. new mexico, 79, 164, 173. ------climate of, 164. ------desert of, 149. ------scenery of, 163-165. new orleans, louisiana, temperature of, 207, 210, 211. newport, rhode island, temperature of, 210, 211. new york, n. y., temperature of, 207, 210, 211. niagara falls, 153, 197. nice, 207. nightshade, 206. norris, benjamin, 214. northern africa, 69. ---arizona, 177. ---pomona, 212. nuts, 18, 138. oats, 206. o'connor, p., 211, 214. old baldy mountain, 4. olives, 1, 18, 19, 24, 37, 115, 129, 134, 147, 162. ---at pomona, 125. ---at santa barbara, 37. ---cooper on, 125. ---cultivation of, discussed, 19, 37, 125. ---future of, 125, 126. ---mission, 125, 126. ---prices and profits of, 126. onions--prices and profits of, 216. ontario, 15, 124. orange city, 46. ------description of, 134. ---county, 16, 46, 79, 111, 134. oranges, 10, 11, 15, 16, 18, 19, 25, 66, 79, 93, 101, 107, 108, 115, 123, 129, 138, 144. ---as resource, 91. ---at redlands, 119. ---cost of land for, 97. ---diseases and care of, 101, 129, 137. ---groves, 20, 118, 123, 127. ---irrigation for, 213. ---prices and profits of, 97, 107, 119, 120, 124, 213, 215. ---riverside as centre, 119. ---varieties of, 120, 123. orchards, 20, 24, 41, 144, 147. orchids, 205. orthocarpus, 204. otay, 145. ottoman amphitheatre, 195. oualapai indians, 188. our italy, description of, 18. pacific, 2-5, 8, 16, 29, 58, 75, 142, 165, 198. ---trade, 142. painted desert, 185, 186. palmer, dr. edward, 59, 60. palms, 41, 42, 67, 69, 85, 123, 130, 134. ---date, 42, 49, 69, 85. ---fan, 49. ---royal, 55, 85. paria plateau, 178. pasadena, 15, 67, 94, 95, 124, 130. ---board of trade, 207. ---climate, 130. ---description of, 130-134. ---temperature of, 133, 207. ---trees of, 134. passion-vine, 49. pau, france, temperature of, 207. peach, 92, 101, 182, 211. ---prices and profits of, 211, 212, 215. peachblow mountain, 185. pea-nuts--prices and profits of, 216. pears--prices and profits of, 215. pensacola, florida, temperature of, 210, 211. penstemon, 205. pepper, 48, 67, 123, 134. ---prices and profits of, 216. peruvians, 169. pineapple, 19. pines, 42, 72, 134, 185, 188-190. ---spruce, 182. ---sugar, 42, 150, 157. pink cliffs, 178. plums, 92. ---prices and profits of, 215. point arguilles, 1. ---conception, 2-4, 47, 72, 137. point loma, 8, 30, 33, 81. ---sublime, 181, 198. ---vincent, 76. pomegranate, 19, 134. pomona, 15, 94, 95, 124, 211-215. ---description of, 124. ---irrigation at, 15, 94, 95, 124, 211-215. ---land at, 94. ---olives at, 125. ---temperature of, 7, 44. poplar, 134. poppy, 204-206. portuguese hamlet, 33. potatoes, 14. ---prices and profits of, 215. powell, major j. w., 181. profitable products discussed, 19. prometheus unbound, 178. prunes, 18, 93, 96, 115. ---prices and profits of, 212, 213, 215. pueblo indians, 165-183. puenta, 124. puget sound, 47. pumpkins--prices and profits of, 216. quail, 8, 140. rabbits, 140. rain, 12, 38, 47, 48, 49, 123, 138, 202, 203, 206. ---at julian, los angeles, monterey, neah bay, point conception, riverside, santa cruz, san diego, san jacinto, 47, 202. ---in relation to health, 202. ---on deserts described, 187. ---season for, 47. rainbow fall, 154. raisin grape, 144. raisins, 18, 19, 93, 108, 136. ---at los angeles, 136. ---at redlands, 119. ---curing, 107. ---malaga, 37. ---prices and profits of, 96, 114, 115. ranchito, 212. raspberries--prices and profits of, 214. raymond hotel, 133, 149. red horse well, 186, 187. redlands, 15, 95-97, 124. ---centre for oranges, 119. ---description of, 118, 121-123. ---history of growth of, 118. ---irrigation of, 102-104, 118. ---resources of, 120. ---return on fruits, 97, 98, 124. redondo, 3. ---beach, 12. ---description of, 76. red wall limestone, 195. redwood, 134. remondino, dr., 40, 52, 56, 59, 60. remondino, dr., on health, 62. ---on horses, 55, 61. ---on longevity, 40, 61. rhorer, george, 212. rio grande del norte, 165. rio puerco, 165. rivera, 213, 215. riverside, 15, 95, 124. ---centre of orange growth, 119. ---description of, 123-127. ---growth in resources, 120. ---irrigation at, 102-104. ---price of land, 95-98. ---return on fruits, 97, 98, 124. riviera, italy, temperature of, 7, 45, 208. roberts, oliver e., 216. rock-rose, 204. rome, italy, temperature of, 207. roscoe station, 214. rose, h. h., 211. roses, 41, 49, 66, 138, 206. royal palms, 85. sacramento, california, temperature of, 207. sages, 202, 205. sahara, 6. san antonio, texas, temperature of, 207. san bernardino, 4, 15-17, 33, 34, 118. ------description of, 116, 117. ------land, prices of, 96, 117. ------mountain, 4, 7. ------river, 11. ------temperature at, 6, 33, 44, 46, 210, 211. san diego, 2, 9, 15, 24, 26, 34, 42, 43, 47, 62, 72, 79, 80, 94. ------as a health resort, 50. ------chamber of commerce, 143. ------climate of, 49, 50. ------commercial possibilities of, 142. ------converted lands, 94. ------description of, 29-34, 79-81, 142-145. ------fruits, 37, 97. ------land and farm company, 208. ------longevity at, 60. ------markets, 43. ------mission, 24, 60. ------rainfall at, 47, 202. ------recreations at, 41, 71. ------temperature of, 30, 44, 49, 50, 207, 210, 211. ------bay, 2, 3. ------county, 4, 6, 16, 34. ---------description of, 140-145. ------river, 4, 6, 11, 16, 34. san francisco, 2, 42, 142. ------mountain, 182, 185, 194, 200. ------river, 185. ------temperature at, 210, 211. san gabriel, 4, 15, 26, 72, 94, 213. san gabriel, description of, 124-128. ------mission, 26. ------mountain, 4, 5. ------river, 11. ------valley, 72, 94. san jacinto range, 4, 17, 33, 46, 118. ------rain at, 48. san joaquin, 7, 37, 114. san juan, 177. ------capristrano, 79. ------san josé, 124. san luis obispo, 16. ------river, 11. san mateo cañon, 118. san miguel, 33. san nicolas, 2. san pedro, 3, 135. san remo, temperature of, 208. santa ana, 2, 13, 72, 94, 99, 118. ------description of, 124. ------mountain, 134. ------river, 11, 79, 134. ------township, 15, 127, 211. ------valley, 2, 72, 213. santa barbara, 2, 3, 9, 37, 67. ------at montecito, 123. ------channel, 2, 3. ------county, 16. ------description of, 72, 137, 138. ------fruits, 37, 129. ------island, 2, 3. ------mountain, 17. ------olives, 37, 125. ------temperature of, 29, 44, 207. santa catalina, 2, 134. santa clara, 43, 138. ------river, 11. santa clemente, 2. santa cruz, 2, 47, 157. ------canaries, temperature of, 207. santa fé line, 117, 119, 163, 165, 182. ------new mexico, temperature of, 207. santa margarita river, 11. santa miguel, 2. santa monica, 3. ------description of, 76. ------irrigation at, 134. santa rosa, 2, 140. santa ynes, 4, 72. santiago, 46. ------cañon, 134. san tomas mission, 60. savannah, 216. sea-lions, 30, 161. seasons, 6, 10, 37, 38, 43, 65, 66, 81. ---description of the, 65, 66. ---van dyke on the, 202-206. _sequoia semper virens_, 157. _sequoias gigantea_, 157, 158. serra, father junipero, 24. serrano, don antonio, 61, 62. sheavwitz plateau, 178. sheep, 12, 206. shiva's temple, 195. shooting-star, 203. sicily, 18, 69. sierra madre, 4, 15, 37, 42, 46, 71, 94, 114, 118. ------villa, 130. sierra nevada, 2, 3. sierras, 153, 161. signal service observer, 207. silene, 204. smith, f. d., 212-215. ---f. m., 212. ---t. d., 214. smithsonian institution, 59. snap-dragon, 205. sorrel, 204. sorrento, 132. southern california, 2-4, 16. ------climate of, 29, 38, 45, 55, 56, 59, 62, 130. ------commerce of, 18. ------compared to italy, 46. ------counties of, 16. ------history of, 24, 25. ------"our italy," 18, 46. ------pride of nations, the, 26. ------rainy seasons in. (see rain.) ------rapid growth of fruits in, 115. ------recreations of, 69-71. ------temperature of, 43, 133. (see temperature.) ---italy, 69, 147. ---pacific railroad, 149. ---utah, 177. south pasadena, 213, 214. ---riverside, 217. spain, 149. spalding, w. a., 212, 215. spanish adventurers, 24, 30. spruce-pine, 182. st. augustine, florida, temperature of, 207. st. michael, azores, temperature of, 207. st. paul, minnesota, temperature of, 207. state commission, 156. stewart, james, 217. stone, 142. strawberries, 10. ---prices and profits of, 214. stub, c. c., 216. sugar-pine, 150, 157. sumach, 205. sunset mountain, 185. sweetbrier, 206. sweetwater dam, 144. switzerland, 149. sycamore, 79, 134. table mountain, 33. tangier, 45. temperature, 4, 5, 29, 37, 38. temperature compared to european, 45. ---discussed, 43, 45. ---of coronado beach, 87. ---of los angeles, 44, 207, 210, 211. ---of monterey, 72. ---of pasadena, 13, 207. ---of pomona, 44. ---of san bernardino, 6, 33, 44, 46, 210, 211. ---of san diego, 30, 44, 49, 50, 210, 211. ---of santa barbara, 29, 44, 207. ---relation of, to health, 201. ---statistics, 44, 45, 72. ---statistics compared, 207, 208, 210, 211. ---van dyke on, 50. temecula cañon, 140. temescal cañon, 217. the rockies, 10. thistle, 205. thompson, e. r., 211. tia juana river, 11, 30, 145. tiger-lily, 206. tin, 217. tomatoes--prices and profits of, 216. töplitz waters, 163. toroweap valley, 182. trees, 48, 69, 130, 134, 138, 147, 156, 198. ---description of, 150, 156-161. ---region of mariposa big, 156. tulip, 204. tustin city, 134. ubach, father a. d., 59, 60, 62. uinkaret plateau, 178. umbrella-tree, 69, 184. university heights, 80, 81. utah, 177, 178, 199. vail, hugh d., 209. van dyke, theodore s., 4, 140, 202. ---on climate, 6, 78. ---on floral procession and seasons, 202-206. ---on growth in population, 145. ---on irrigation, 102, 103. ---on temperature, 50. van dyke, theodore s., on winds, 8, 203. vedolia cardinalis (australian lady-bug), 129. vegetables, 112, 216. ventura, 16, 137. vermilion cliffs, 178. vernon, 213, 215. ---jacob, 216. vesuvius, 33. vetch, 203. vines, 20, 23-25, 67, 79, 91, 107, 123, 128, 144, 147. violets, 203. visalia, california, temperature of, 207. vishnu's temple, 196. vulcan's throne, 196. wages, "boom," 109. walnut creek cañon, 183. walnuts, 14, 19, 115. ---prices and profits of, 215. water, 186. ---how measured, 98. ---price of, 97, 98. watermelons--prices and profits of, 216. wawona, 150. wells, 186. wheat, 2, 5, 14, 25, 138. ---affected by irrigation, 100. white cliffs, 178. wild oats, 202. williams, 182. willow, 134. winder, dr. w. a., on longevity, 56. winds, 4, 6, 8, 29, 30, 38, 47, 70, 78, 123, 184, 203. ---relation of, to health, 201. ---van dyke on, 8, 203. wine, 20, 92, 93, 107, 136, 137. winkler, mrs., 215. wood, p. k., 216. yosemite, 150, 153, 154, 161, 197. ---description of, 149-156. yucca, 205. zuñis, 165. the end. by charles dudley warner. as we were saying. with portrait, and illustrated by h. w. macvickar and others. 16mo, cloth, ornamental, $1 00. mr. warner is both wise and witty, and in his charming style he follows a model of his own.--_boston traveller._ mr. warner has such a fine fancy, such a clever way of looking at the things that interest everybody, such a genial humor, that one never tires of him or the children of his pen.--_cincinnati commercial-gazette._ our italy. an exposition of the climate and resources of southern california. illustrated. 8vo, cloth, ornamental, $2 50. in this book are a little history, a little prophecy, a few fascinating statistics, many interesting facts, much practical suggestion, and abundant humor and charm.--_evangelist_, n. y. it is a book of solid value, such as a clear-headed business man will appreciate, yet it is such a book as only an accomplished man of letters could write. we commend it to all who wish further knowledge of a region too little known by americans.--_examiner_, n. y. a little journey in the world. a novel. post 8vo, half leather, uncut edges and gilt top, $1 50. a powerful picture of modern life in which unscrupulously acquired capital is the chief agent.... mr. warner has depicted this phase of society with real power, and there are passages in his work which are a nearer approach to thackeray than we have had from any american author.--_boston post._ the vigor and vividness of the tale and its sustained interest are not its only or its chief merits. it is a study of american life of to-day, possessed with shrewd insight and fidelity.--george william curtis. studies in the south and west. with comments on canada. post 8vo, half leather, uncut edges and gilt top, $1 75. a witty, instructive book, as brilliant in its pictures as it is warm in its kindness; and we feel sure that it is with a patriotic impulse that we say that we shall be glad to learn that the number of its readers bears some proportion to its merits and its power for good.--_n. y. commercial advertiser._ a book most charming--a book that no american can fail to enjoy, appreciate, and highly prize.--_boston traveller._ their pilgrimage. richly illustrated by c. s. reinhart. post 8vo, half leather, uncut edges and gilt top, $2 00. mr. warner's pen-pictures of the characters typical of each resort, of the manner of life followed at each, of the humor and absurdities peculiar to saratoga, or newport, or bar harbor, as the case may be, are as good-natured as they are clever. the satire, when there is any, is of the mildest, and the general tone is that of one glad to look on the brightest side of the cheerful, pleasure-seeking world.--_christian union_, n. y. published by harper & brothers, new york. _any of the above works sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states, canada, or mexico, on receipt of the price._ nordhoff's california. peninsular california. some account of the climate, soil, productions, and present condition chiefly of the northern half of lower california. by charles nordhoff. maps and illustrations. square 8vo, cloth, $1 00; paper, 75 cents. mr. nordhoff has known the region he describes for many years, and is a skilful writer as well as careful observer.--_hartford courant._ the author frankly writes as an advocate, but, so far as our knowledge goes, with scrupulous fairness.--_n. y. evening post._ mr. nordhoff supplies copious appendices, giving tables of temperature, rainfall and other meteorological facts of much interest. his book is interesting, valuable, and timely.--_epoch_, n. y. the reading of this volume has been of special personal pleasure to us, and we doubt not that others will enjoy it too.--_michigan christian advocate._ the book is one that those who read merely for information will find interesting and instructive, while there are doubtless many by whom its economical representations will be accepted in the way that mr. nordhoff evidently hopes that they will be.--_philadelphia telegraph._ this opportune little volume will do much to enlighten us as to its real character, an enlightenment of a most practical kind.--_geographical news._ mr. charles nordhoff has added considerably to our knowledge of a country singularly neglected.--_n. y. sun._ mr. nordhoff's book is as good as a trip to the place.--_philadelphia american._ his book is historical, descriptive, and practical, containing information about land-titles and other matters such as settlers and investors will find most useful.--_cincinnati times._ there is hardly a question that one contemplating purchase or residence there would wish to ask that is not answered in this book, while to all it furnishes interesting and no doubt authentic information concerning a remarkable region, of which not much has been generally known heretofore.--_christian intelligencer_, n. y. mr. nordhoff has personally explored and studied the region and become an owner of property in it, and he may be regarded as fully qualified to speak of what it is and promises to be. much interesting and valuable information is contained in mr. nordhoff's work.--_brooklyn union._ those who remember what a good prophet mr. nordhoff proved himself to be by his book on "california," issued some sixteen years ago, will read this volume with especial attention.--_louisville courier-journal._ mr. nordhoff's book is not a traveller's sketch, but an exhaustive study of the country, its rulers, its products, and its inhabitants.--_boston commercial bulletin._ a valuable contribution to the fund of general information concerning the "golden state."--_washington post._ the information which he gives respecting the resources of the country and its progress in late years is not only interesting, but also of practical value to tourists, as well as for those who contemplate settlement.--_lutheran observer_, philadelphia. we commend the work to all persons who would like to have information about this beautiful and fruitful land.--_christian observer_, louisville. mr. nordhoff has for many years been familiar with the country, and the information he furnishes concerning its climate and the advantages it offers to settlers is unquestionably trustworthy.--_saturday evening gazette_, boston. published by harper & brothers, new york. _the above work will be sent by mail, postage prepaid, to any part of the united states, canada, or mexico, on receipt of price._ valuable works of travel and adventure. the capitals of spanish america. the capitals of spanish america. by william eleroy curtis, late commissioner from the united states to the governments of central and south america. with a colored map and 358 illustrations. 8vo, cloth, extra, $3 50. charnay's ancient cities of the new world. the ancient cities of the new world: being voyages and explorations in mexico and central america, from 1857 to 1882. by désiré charnay. translated from the french by j. gonino and helen s. conant. introduction by allen thorndike rice. 209 illustrations and a map. royal 8vo, ornamental cloth, uncut edges, gilt top, $6 00. hearn's west indies. two years in the french west indies. by lafcadio hearn. copiously illustrated. post 8vo, cloth, ornamental, $2 00. warner's south and west. studies in the south and west, with comments on canada. by charles dudley warner, author of "their pilgrimage," &c. post 8vo, half leather, $1 75. cesnola's cyprus. cyprus: its ancient cities, tombs, and temples. a narrative of researches and excavations during ten years' residence in that island. by general louis palma di cesnola, member of the royal academy of sciences, turin; 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sheep, $9 50; half morocco, $12 00. stanley's through the dark continent. through the dark continent; or, the sources of the nile, around the great lakes of equatorial africa, and down the livingstone river to the atlantic ocean. by henry m. stanley. with 149 illustrations and 10 maps. 2 vols., 8vo, cloth, $7 50; sheep, $9 50, half morocco, $12 00. stanley's coomassie and magdala. coomassie and magdala: a story of two british campaigns in africa. by henry m. stanley. with maps and illustrations. 8vo, cloth, $3 50. livingstone's last journals. the last journals of david livingstone, in central africa, from 1865 to his death. continued by a narrative of his last moments and sufferings, obtained from his faithful servants chuma and susi. by horace waller, f.r.g.s. with maps and illustrations. 8vo, cloth, $5 00; sheep, $6 00; half calf, $7 25. livingstone's expedition to the zambesi. narrative of an expedition to the zambesi and its tributaries; and of the discovery of the lakes shirwa and nyassa. 1858-1864. by david and charles livingstone. with maps and illustrations. 8vo, cloth, $5 00; sheep, $5 50. long's central africa. central africa: naked truths of naked people. an account of expeditions to the lake victoria nyanza and the makraka niam-niam, west of the bahr-el-abiad (white nile). by col. c. chaillé long of the egyptian staff. illustrated from col. long's own sketches. with map. 8vo, cloth, $2 50. du chaillu's equatorial africa. adventures in the great forest of equatorial africa, and the country of the dwarfs. by paul b. du chaillu. _abridged and popular edition._ with map and illustrations. post 8vo, cloth, $1 75. du chaillu's ashango-land. a journey to ashango-land, and further penetration into equatorial africa. by paul b. du chaillu. illustrated. 8vo, cloth, $5 00; sheep, $5 50; half calf, $7 25. du chaillu's land of the midnight sun. the land of the midnight sun. summer and winter journeys through sweden, norway, lapland, and northern finland. by paul b. du chaillu. with map and 235 illustrations. in two volumes. 8vo, cloth, $7 50; half calf, $12 00. thomson's voyage of the "challenger." the voyage of the "challenger." _the atlantic_: an account of the general results of the voyage during the year 1873 and the early part of the year 1876. by sir c. wyville thomson, f.r.s. with a portrait of the author, many colored maps, and illustrations. 2 vols., 8vo, cloth, $12 00. thomson's southern palestine and jerusalem. the land and the book: southern palestine and jerusalem. by william m. thomson, d.d., forty-five years a missionary in syria and palestine. 140 illustrations and maps. square 8vo, cloth, $6 00; sheep, $7 00; half morocco, $8 50; full morocco, gilt edges, $10 00. thomson's central palestine and phoenicia. the land and the book: central palestine and phoenicia. by william m. thomson, d.d. 180 illustrations and maps. square 8vo, cloth, $6 00; sheep, $7 00; half morocco, $8 50; full morocco, gilt edges, $10 00. thomson's lebanon, damascus, and beyond jordan. the land and the book: lebanon, damascus, and beyond jordan. by william m. thomson, d.d. 147 illustrations and maps. square 8vo, cloth, $6 00; sheep, $7 00; half morocco, $8 50; full morocco, gilt edges, $10 00. the land and the book. (_popular edition._) comprising the above three volumes. square 8vo, cloth, $9 00. (_sold in sets only._) bridgman's algeria. winters in algeria. written and illustrated by frederick arthur bridgman. square 8vo, cloth, ornamental, $2 50. pennells' hebrides. our journey to the hebrides. by joseph pennell and elizabeth robins pennell. illustrated. post 8vo, cloth, ornamental. $1 75. shoshone, and other western wonders. by edwards roberts. with a preface by charles francis adams. illustrated. pp. xvi., 276. post 8vo, cloth, $1 00; paper, 75 cents. schweinfurth's heart of africa. the heart of africa; or, three years' travels and adventures in the unexplored regions of the centre of africa. from 1868 to 1871. by dr. georg schweinfurth. translated by ellen e. frewer. with an introduction by winwood reade. illustrated by about 130 wood-cuts from drawings made by the author, and with two maps. 2 vols., 8vo, cloth, $8 00. speke's africa. journal of the discovery of the source of the nile. by john hanning speke, captain h. m. indian army, fellow and gold medalist of the royal geographical society, hon. corresponding member and gold medalist of the french geographical society, &c. with maps and portraits and numerous illustrations, chiefly from drawings by captain grant. 8vo, cloth, $4 00; sheep, $4 50. baker's ismailïa. ismailïa: a narrative of the expedition to central africa for the suppression of the slave-trade, organized by ismail, khedive of egypt. by sir samuel white baker, pasha, m.a., f.r.s., f.r.g.s., major-general of the ottoman empire, late governor-general of the equatorial nile basin, &c., &c. with maps, portraits, and upwards of fifty full-page illustrations by zwecker and durand. 8vo, cloth, $5 00; half calf, $7 25. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 12911-h.htm or 12911-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/1/2/9/1/12911/12911-h/12911-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/1/2/9/1/12911/12911-h.zip) a backward glance at eighty recollections & comment by charles a. murdock massachusetts 1841 humboldt bay 1855 san francisco 1864 1921 [illustration: a camera glance at eighty] this book is gratefully dedicated to the friends who inspired it contents chapter i. new england ii. a hidden harbor iii. nine years north iv. the real bret harte v. san francisco--the sixties vi. later san francisco vii. incidents in public service viii. an investment ix. by-product x. concerning persons xi. outings xii. occasional verse epilogue illustrations a camera glance at eighty humboldt bay, winship map francis bret harte (saroney, 1874) the clay-street office the day after thomas starr king (original given bret harte) horatio stebbins, san francisco, 1864-1900 horace davis, harvard in 1836 outings: the sierras, hawaii foreword in the autumn of 1920 the board of directors of the pacific coast conference of unitarian churches took note of the approaching eightieth birthday of mr. charles a. murdock, of san francisco. recalling mr. murdock's active service of all good causes, and more particularly his devotion to the cause of liberal religion through a period of more than half a century, the board decided to recognize the anniversary, which fell on january 26, 1921, by securing the publication of a volume of mr. murdock's essays. a committee was appointed to carry out the project, composed of rev. h.e.b. speight (chairman), rev. c.s.s. dutton, and rev. earl m. wilbur. the committee found a very ready response to its announcement of a subscription edition, and mr. murdock gave much time and thought to the preparation of material for the volume. "a backward glance at eighty" is now issued with the knowledge that its appearance is eagerly awaited by all mr. murdock's friends and by a large number of others who welcome new light upon the life of an earlier generation of pioneers. the publication of the book is an affectionate tribute to a good citizen, a staunch friend, a humble christian gentleman, and a fearless servant of truth--charles a. murdock. memorial committee. genesis in the beginning, the publication of this book is not the deliberate act of the octogenarian. separate causes seem to have co-operated independently to produce the result. several years ago, in a modest literary club, the late henry morse stephens, in his passion for historical material, urged me from time to time to devote my essays to early experiences in the north of the state and in san francisco. these papers were familiar to my friends, and as my eightieth birthday approached they asked that i add to them introductory and connecting chapters and publish a memorial volume. to satisfy me that it would find acceptance they secured advance orders to cover the expense. under these conditions i could not but accede to their request. i would subordinate an unimportant personal life. my purpose is to recall conditions and experiences that may prove of historical interest and to express some of the conclusions and convictions formed in an active and happy life. i wish to express my gratitude to the members of the committee and to my friend, george prescott vance, for suggestions and assistance in preparation and publication. c.a.m. chapter i new england my very early memories alternate between my grandfather's farm in leominster, massachusetts, and the pemberton house in boston. my father and mother, both born in leominster, were schoolmates, and in due time they married. father was at first a clerk in the country store, but at an early age became the tavern-keeper. i was born on january 26, 1841. soon thereafter father took charge of the pemberton house on howard street, which developed into whig headquarters. being the oldest grandson, i was welcome at the old homestead, and i was so well off under the united care of my aunts that i spent a fair part of my life in the country. my father was a descendant of robert murdock (of roxbury), who left scotland in 1688, and whose descendants settled in newton. my father's branch removed to winchendon, home of tubs and pails. my grandfather (abel) moved to leominster and later settled in worcester, where he died when i was a small boy. my father's mother was a moore, also of scotch ancestry. she died young, and on my father's side there was no family home to visit. my mother's father was deacon charles hills, descended from joseph hills, who came from england in 1634. nearly every new england town was devoted to some special industry, and leominster was given to the manufacture of horn combs. the industry was established by a hills ancestor, and when i was born four hills brothers were co-operative comb-makers, carrying on the business in connection with small farming. the proprietors were the employees. if others were required, they could be readily secured at the going wages of one dollar a day. my grandfather was the oldest of the brothers. when he married betsy buss his father set aside for him twenty acres of the home farm, and here he built the house in which he lived for forty years, raising a family of ten children. i remember quite clearly my great-grandfather silas hills. he was old and querulous, and could certainly scold; but now that i know that he was born in 1760, and had nineteen brothers and sisters, i think of him with compassion and wonder. it connects me with the distant past to think i remember a man who was sixteen years old when the declaration of independence was signed. he died at ninety-five, which induces apprehension. my grandfather's house faced the country road that ran north over the rolling hills among the stone-walled farms, and was about a mile from the common that marked the center of the town. it was white, of course, with green blinds. the garden in front was fragrant from castilian roses, sweet williams, and pinks. there were lilacs and a barberry-bush. a spacious hall bisected the house. the south front room was sacred to funerals and weddings; we seldom entered it. back of that was grandma's room. stairs in the hall led to two sleeping-rooms above. the north front room was "the parlor," but seldom used. there on the center-table reposed baxter's "saints' rest" and young's "night thoughts." the fireplace flue so seldom held a fire that the swallows utilized the chimney for their nests. back of this was the dining-room, in which we lived. it had a large brick oven and a serviceable fireplace. the kitchen was an ell, from which stretched woodshed, carriage-house, pigpen, smoking-house, etc. currant and quince bushes, rhubarb, mulberry, maple, and butternut trees were scattered about. an apple orchard helped to increase the frugal income. we raised corn and pumpkins, and hay for the horse and cows. the corn was gathered into the barn across the road, and a husking-bee gave occasion for mild merrymaking. as necessity arose the dried ears were shelled and the kernels taken to the mill, where an honest portion was taken for grist. the corn-meal bin was the source of supply for all demands for breakfast cereal. hasty-pudding never palled. small incomes sufficed. our own bacon, pork, spare-rib, and souse, our own butter, eggs, and vegetables, with occasional poultry, made us little dependent on others. one of the great-uncles was a sportsman, and snared rabbits and pickerel, thus extending our bill of fare. bread and pies came from the weekly baking, to say nothing of beans and codfish. berries from the pasture and nuts from the woods were plentiful. for lights we were dependent on tallow candles or whale-oil, and soap was mostly home-made. life was simple but happy. the small boy had small duties. he must pick up chips, feed the hens, hunt eggs, sprout potatoes, and weed the garden. but he had fun the year round, varying with the seasons, but culminating with the winter, when severity was unheeded in the joy of coasting, skating, and sleighing in the daytime, and apples, chestnuts, and pop-corn in the long evenings. i never tired of watching my grandfather and his brothers as they worked in their shops. the combs were not the simple instruments we now use to separate and arrange the hair, but ornamental structures that women wore at the back of the head to control their supposedly surplus locks. they were associated with spanish beauties, and at their best estate were made of shell, but our combs were of horn and of great variety. in the better quality, shell was closely imitated, but some were frankly horn and ornamented by the application of aquafortis in patterns artistic or grotesque according to the taste and ability of the operator. the horns were sawed, split, boiled in oil, pressed flat, and then died out ready to be fashioned into the shape required for the special product. this was done in a separate little shop by uncle silas and uncle alvah. uncle emerson then rubbed and polished them in the literally one-horsepower factory, and grandfather bent and packed them for the market. the power was supplied by a patient horse, "log cabin" by name, denoting the date of his acquisition in the harrison campaign. all day the faithful nag trod a horizontal wheel in the cellar, which gave way to his efforts and generated the power that was transmitted by belt to the simple machinery above. uncle emerson generally sung psalm-tunes as he worked. deacon hills, as he was always called, was finisher, packer, and business manager. i was interested to notice that in doing up the dozen combs in a package he always happened to select the best one to tie on the outside as a sample. that was his nearest approach to dishonesty. he was a thoroughly good man, but burdened and grave. i do not know that i ever heard him laugh, and he seldom, if ever, smiled. he worked hard, was faithful to every duty, and no doubt loved his family; but soberness was inbred. he read the _cultivator_, the _christian register_, and the almanac. after the manner of his time, he was kind and helpful; but life was hard and joyless. he was greatly respected and was honored by a period of service as representative in the general court. my grandmother was a gentle, patient soul, living for her family, wholly unselfish and incapable of complaint. she was placid and cheerful, courageous and trusting. i had four fine aunts, two of whom were then unmarried and devoted to the small boy. one was a veritable ray of sunshine; the other, gifted of mind and nearest my age, was most companionable. only one son lived to manhood. he had gone from the home, but faithfully each year returned from the city to observe thanksgiving, the great day of new england. holidays were somewhat infrequent. fourth of july and muster, of course, were not forgotten, and while christmas was almost unnoticed thanksgiving we never failed to mark with all its social and religious significance. almost everybody went to meeting, and the sermon, commonly reviewing the year, was regarded as an event. the home-coming of the absent family members and the reunion at a bountiful dinner became the universal custom. there were no distractions in the way of professional football or other games. the service, the family, and plenty of good things to eat engrossed the day. it was a time of rejoicing--and unlimited pie. sunday was strictly observed. grandfather always blacked his boots before sundown of saturday night, and on sunday anything but going to meeting was regarded with suspicion, especially if it was associated with any form of enjoyment. in summer "log cabin" was hitched into the shafts of the chaise, and with gait slightly accelerated beyond the daily habit jogged to town and was deposited in the church shed during the service. at noon we rejoined him and ate our ginger-bread and cheese while he disposed of his luncheon of oats. then we went back to sunday-school, and he rested or fought flies. in winter he was decked with bells and hitched in the sleigh. plenty of robes and a foot-stove, or at least a slab of heated soap-stone, provided for grandmother's comfort. the church when it was formed was named "the first congregational." when it became unitarian, the word, in parentheses, was added. the second congregational was always called "the orthodox." the church building was a fine example of early architecture. the steeple was high, the walls were white, the pews were square. on a tablet at the right of the pulpit the ten commandments were inscribed, and at the left the beatitudes were found. the first minister i remember was saintly hiram withington, who won my loyalty by his interest manifested by standing me up by the door-jamb and marking my growth from call to call. i remember rufus p. stebbins, the former minister, who married my father and mother and refused a fee because my father had always cut his hair in the barberless days of old. amos a. smith was later in succession. i loved him for his goodness. sunday-school was always a matter of course, and was never dreaded. i early enjoyed the rollo books and later reveled in mayne reid. the haymow in the barn and a blessed knothole are associated with many happy hours. reading has dangers. i think one of the first books i ever read was a bound volume of _merry's museum_. there was a continued story recounting the adventures of one dick boldhero. it was illustrated with horrible woodcuts. one of them showed dick bearing on a spirited charger the clasped form of the heroine, whom he had abducted. it impressed me deeply. i recognized no distinction of sex or attractiveness and lived in terror of suffering abduction. when i saw a stranger coming i would run into the shop and clasp my arms around some post until i felt the danger past. this must have been very early in my career. indeed one of my aunts must have done the reading, leaving me to draw distress from the thrilling illustrations. a very early trial was connected with a visit to a school. i was getting proud of my ability to spell small words. a primer-maker had attempted to help the association of letters with objects by placing them in juxtaposition, but through a mistake he led me to my undoing. i knew my letters and i knew some things. i plainly distinguished the letters p-a-n. against them i was puzzled by a picture of a spoon, and with credulity, perhaps characteristic, i blurted out "p-a-n--spoon," whereat to my great discomfiture everybody laughed. i have never liked being laughed at from that day to this. i am glad that i left new england early, but i am thankful that it was not before i realized the loveliness of the arbutus as it braved the snow and smiled at the returning sun, nor that i made forts or played morris in the snow at school. i have passed on from my first impressions in the country perhaps unwarrantedly. it is hard to differentiate consistently. i may have mixed early memories with more mature realization. i did not live with my grandmother continuously. i went back and forth as convenience and others' desires prompted. i do not know what impressions of life in the pemberton house came first. very early i remember helping my busy little mother, who in the spring of the year uncorded all the bedsteads and made life miserable for the festive bedbugs by an application of whale oil from a capable feather applied to the inside of all holes through which the ropes ran. the re-cording of the beds was a tedious process requiring two persons, and i soon grew big enough to count as one. i remember also the little triangular tin candlesticks that we inserted at the base of each of the very small panes of the window when we illuminated the hotel on special nights. i distinctly recall the quivering of the full glasses of jelly on tapering disks that formed attractive table ornaments. daniel webster was often the central figure at banquets in the pemberton. general sam houston, senator from texas, was also entertained, for i remember that my father told me of an incident that occurred many years after, when he passed through san antonio. as he strolled through the city he saw the senator across the street, but, supposing that he would not be remembered, had no thought of speaking, whereupon houston called out, "young man, are you not going to speak to me!" my father replied that he had not supposed that he would be remembered. "of course i remember meeting you at the pemberton house in boston." i remember some of the boarders, regular and transient, distinguished and otherwise. there was a young grocery clerk who used to hold me in his lap and talk to me. he became one of the best of california's governors, frederick f. low, and was a close friend of thomas starr king. a wit on a san francisco paper once published at thanksgiving time "a thanksgiving proclamation by our stuttering reporter--'praise god from whom all blessings f-f-low.'" in my memory he is associated with haymaker square. i well remember the famous circus clown of the period, joe pentland, very serious and proper when not professionally funny. a minstrel who made a great hit with "jim crow" once gave me a valuable lesson on table manners. one barrett, state treasurer, was a boarder. he had a standing order: "roast beef, rare and fat; gravy from the dish." madame biscaccianti, of the italian opera, graced our table. so did the original drew family. the hotel adjoined the howard athenaeum, and i profited from peeping privileges to the extent of many pins. i recall some wonderful trained animals--van amberg's, i think. a lion descended from back-stage and crawled with stealth upon a sleeping traveler in the foreground. it was thrilling but harmless. there were also some viennese dancers, who introduced, i believe, the cracovienne. i remember a "sissy madigan," who seemed a wonder of beauty and charm. there was great excitement when the athenaeum caught on fire. i can see the trunks being dragged down the stairs to the damage of the banisters, and great confusion and dismay among our boarders. a small boy was hurried in his nightie across the street and kept till all danger had passed. a very early memory is the marching through the streets of soldiers bound for the mexican war. off and on, i lived in boston till 1849, when my father left for california and the family returned to leominster. my first school in boston was in the basement of park street church. hermann clarke, son of our minister, rev. james freeman clarke, was a fellow pupil. afterward i went to the mayhew grammar school, connected in my mind with a mild chastisement for imitating a trombone when a procession passed by. the only other punishment i recall was a spanking by my father for playing "hookey" and roaming in the public garden. i remember sunday-school parades through certain public streets. but the great event was the joining of all the day schools in the great parade when cochituate water was introduced into the city. it was a proud moment when the fountain in the frogpond on the common threw on high the water prodigiously brought from far cochituate. another boston memory is the boston theater, where william warren reigned. cinderella and her pumpkin carriage are fresh in my mind. i also recall a waxwork representation of the birth in the manger. i still can see the heads of the cattle, the spreading horns, and the blessed babe. as i recall my early boyhood, many changes in customs seem suggested. there may be trundle-beds in these days, but i never see them. no fathers wear boots in this era, and bootjacks are as extinct as the dodo. i have kept a few letters written by my mother when i was away from her. they were written on a flat sheet, afterward folded and fastened by a wafer. envelopes had not arrived; neither had postage-stamps. sealing-wax was then in vogue and red tape for important documents. in all well-regulated dwellings there were whatnots in the corner with shells and waxworks and other objects of beauty or mild interest. the pictures did not move--they were fixed in the family album. the musical instruments most in evidence were jew's-harps and harmonicas. the rollo books were well calculated to make a boy sleepy. the franconia books were more attractive, and "the green mountain boy" was thrilling. a small boy's wildest dissipation was rolling a hoop. and now california casts her shadow. my father was an early victim. i remember his parting admonition, as he was a man of few words and seldom offered advice. "be careful," he said, "of wronging others. do not repeat anything you hear that reflects on another. it is a pretty good rule, when you cannot speak well of another, to say nothing at all." he must have said more, but that is all that i recall. father felt that in two years he would return with enough money to provide for our needs. in the meantime we could live at less expense and in greater safety in the country. we returned to the town we all loved, and the two years stretched to six. we three children went to school, my mother keeping house. in 1851 my grandfather died, and in 1853 my grandmother joined him. during these leominster days we greatly enjoyed a visit from my father's sister, charlotte, with her husband, john downes, an astronomer connected with harvard university. they were charming people, bringing a new atmosphere from their cambridge home. uncle john tried to convince me that by dividing the heavens i might count the visible stars, but he did not succeed. he wrote me a fine, friendly letter on his returning home, in 1852, using a sheet of blue paper giving on the third page a view of the college buildings and a procession of the alumni as they left the church sept. 6, 1836. in the letter he pronounced it a very good view. it is presented elsewhere, in connection with the picture of a friend who entered the university a few years later. school life was pleasant and i suppose fairly profitable. until i entered high school i attended the ungraded district school. it was on the edge of a wood, and a source of recess pleasure was making umbrageous homes of pine boughs. on the last day of school the school committee, the leading minister, the ablest lawyer, and the best-loved doctor were present to review and address us. we took much pride in the decoration. wreaths of plaited leaves were twisted around the stovepipe; the top of the stove was banked with pond-lilies gathered from a pond in our woods. medals were primitive. for a week i wore a pierced ninepence in evidence of my proficiency in mental arithmetic; then it passed to stronger hands. according to present standards we indulged in precious little amusement. entertainments were few. once in a while a circus came to town, and there were organizations of musical attractions like the hutchinson family and the swiss bell ringers. ossian e. dodge was a name with which to conjure, and a panorama was sometimes unrolled alternating with dissolving views. seen in retrospect, they all seem tame and unalluring. the lyceum was, the feature of strongest interest to the grownups. lectures gave them a chance to see men of note like wendell phillips, emerson, or william lloyd garrison. even boys could enjoy poets of the size of john g. saxe. well do i remember the distrust felt for abolitionists. i had an uncle who entertained fred douglass and was ready at any time to help a fugitive slave to canada. he was considered dangerous. he was a shoemaker, and i remember how he would drop his work when no one was by and get up to pace the floor and rehearse a speech he probably never would make. occasionally our singing-school would give a concert, and once in a farmers' chorus i was costumed in a smock cut down from one of grandfather's. i carried a sickle and joined in "through lanes with hedgerows, pearly." i kept up in the singing but let my attention wander as the farmers made their exit and did not notice that i was left till the other boys were almost off the stage. i then skipped after them, swinging my scythe in chagrin. in the high school we gave an exhibition in which we enacted some scotch scene. i think it had to do with roderick dhu. we were to be costumed, and i was bothered about kilts and things. mr. phillips, the principal, suggested that the stage be set with small evergreen trees. the picture of them in my mind's eye brought relief, and i impulsively exclaimed, "that will be good, because we will not have to wear pants," meaning, of course, the kilts. he had a sense of humor and was a tease. he pretended to take me literally, and raised a laugh as he said, "why, murdock!" one bitterly cold night we went to fitchburg, five miles away, to describe the various pictures given at a magic-lantern exhibition. my share was a few lines on a poor view of scarborough castle. at this distance it seems like a poor investment of energy. i wonder if modern education has not made some progress in a generation. here was a boy of fourteen who had never studied history or physics or physiology and was assigned nothing but latin, algebra and grammar. i left at fourteen and a half to come to california, knowing little but what i had picked up accidentally. a diary of my voyage, dating from june 4, 1855, vividly illustrates the character of the english inculcated by the school of the period. it refers to the "crowd assembled to witness our departure." it recounts all we saw, beginning with washacum pond, which we passed on our way to worcester: "of considerable magnitude, ... and the small islands which dot its surface render it very beautiful." the buildings of new york impressed the little prig greatly. trinity church he pronounces "one of the most splendid edifices which i ever saw," and he waxes into "opalian" eloquence over barnum's american museum, which was "illuminated from basement to attic." we sailed on the "george law," arriving at aspinwall, the eastern terminal of the panama railroad, in ten days. crossing the isthmus, with its wonders of tropical foliage and varied monkeys, gave a glimpse of a new world. we left panama june 16th and arrived at san francisco on the morning of the 30th. let the diary tell the tale of the beginning of life in california: "i arose about 4-1/2 this morning and went on deck. we were then in the golden gate, which is the entrance into san francisco bay. on each side of us was high land. on the left-hand side was a lighthouse, and the light was still burning. on my right hand was the outer telegraph building. when they see us they telegraph to another place, from which they telegraph all over san francisco. when we were going in there was a strong ebb tide. we arrived at the wharf a little after five o'clock. the first thing which i did was to look for my father. him i did not see." father had been detained in humboldt by the burning of the connecting steamer, so we went to wilson's exchange in sansome near sacramento street, and in the afternoon took the "senator" for sacramento, where my uncle and aunt lived. the part of a day in san francisco was used to the full in prospecting the strange city. we walked its streets and climbed its hills, much interested in all we saw. the line of people waiting for their mail up at portsmouth square was perhaps the most novel sight. a race up the bay, waiting for the tide at benicia, sticking on the "hog's back" in the night, and the surprise of a flat, checkerboard city were the most impressive experiences of the trip to sacramento. a month or so on this compulsory visit passed very pleasantly. we found fresh delight in watching the chinese and their habits. we had never seen a specimen before. a very pleasant picnic and celebration on the fourth of july was another attractive novelty. cheap john auctions and frequent fires afforded amusement and excitement, and we learned to drink muddy water without protest. on the 15th the diary records: "last night about 12 o'clock i woke, and who should i behold, standing by me, but my father! is it possible that after a separation of nearly six years i have at last met my father? it is even so. this form above me is, indeed, my father's." the day's entry concludes: "i have really enjoyed myself today. i like the idea of a father very well." we were compelled to await an upcoast steamer till august, when that adventurous craft, the steamer "mckim," now newly named the "humboldt," resumed sea-voyages. the pacific does not uniformly justify the name, but this time it completely succeeded. the ocean was as smooth as the deadest mill-pond--not a breath of wind or a ripple of the placid surface. treacherous humboldt bar, sometimes a mountain of danger, did not even disclose its location. the tar from the ancient seams of the humboldt's decks responded to the glowing sun until pacing the deck was impossible, but sea-sickness was no less so. we lazily steamed into the beautiful harbor, up past eureka, her streets still occupied by stumps, and on to the ambitious pier stretching nearly two miles from uniontown to deep water. and now that the surroundings may be better understood, let me digress from the story of my boyhood and touch on the early romance of humboldt bay--its discovery and settlement. chapter ii a hidden harbor the northwesterly corner of california is a region apart. in its physical characteristics and in its history it has little in common with the rest of the state. with no glamour of spanish occupancy, its romance is of quite another type. at the time of the discovery of gold in california the northwestern portion of the state was almost unknown territory. for seven hundred miles, from fort ross to the mouth of the columbia, there stretched a practically uncharted coast. a few headlands were designated on the imperfect map and a few streams were poorly sketched in, but the great domain had simply been approached from the sea and its characteristics were mostly a matter of conjecture. so far as is known, not a white man lived in all california west of the coast range and north of fort ross. here is, generally speaking, a mountainous region heavily timbered along the coast, diversified with river valleys and rolling hills. a marked peculiarity is its sharp slope toward the northwest for its entire length. east of the coast range the sacramento river flows due south, while to the west of the broken mountains all the streams flow northwesterly--more northerly than westerly. eel river flows about 130 miles northerly and, say, forty miles westerly. the same course is taken by the mattole, the mad, and the trinity rivers. the watershed of this corner to the northwest is extensive, including a good part of what are now mendocino, trinity, siskiyou, humboldt, and del norte counties. the drainage of the westerly slope of the mountain ranges north and west of shasta reaches the pacific with difficulty. the klamath river flows southwest for 120 miles until it flanks the siskiyous. it there meets the trinity, which flows northwest. the combined rivers take the direction of the trinity, but the name of the klamath prevails. it enters the ocean about thirty miles south of the oregon line. the whole region is extremely mountainous. the course of the river is tortuous, winding among the mountains. the water-flow shows the general trend of the ranges; but most of the rivers have numerous forks, indicating transverse ridges. from an aeroplane the mountains of northern california would suggest an immense drove of sleeping razor-backed hogs nestling against one another to keep warm, most of their snouts pointed northwest. less than one-fourth of the land is tillable, and not more than a quarter of that is level. yet it is a beautiful, interesting and valuable country, largely diversified, with valuable forests, fine mountain ranges, gently rolling hills, rich river bottoms, and, on the upper trinity, gold-bearing bars. mendocino (in humboldt county) was given its significant name about 1543. when heceta and bodega in 1775 were searching the coast for harbors, they anchored under the lee of the next northerly headland. after the pious manner of the time, having left san blas on trinity sunday, they named their haven trinidad. their arrival was six days before the battle of bunker hill. it is about forty-five miles from cape mendocino to trinidad. the bold, mountainous hills, though they often reach the ocean, are somewhat depressed between these points. halfway between them lies humboldt bay, a capacious harbor with a tidal area of twenty-eight miles. it is the best and almost the only harbor from san francisco to puget sound. it is fourteen miles long, in shape like an elongated human ear. it eluded discovery with even greater success than san francisco bay, and the story of its final settlement is striking and romantic. neither cabrillo nor heceta nor drake makes mention of it. in 1792 vancouver followed the coast searchingly, but when he anchored in what he called the "nook" of trinidad he was entirely ignorant of a near-by harbor. we must bear in mind that spain had but the slightest acquaintance with the empire she claimed. the occasional visits of navigators did not extend her knowledge of the great domain. it is nevertheless surprising that in the long course of the passage of the galleons to and from the philippines the bays of san francisco and humboldt should not have been found even by accident. the nearest settlement was the russian colony near bodega, one hundred and seventy-five miles to the south. in 1811 kuskoff found a river entering the ocean near the point. he called it slavianski, but general vallejo rescued us from that when he referred to it as russian river. the land was bought from the indians for a trifle. madrid was applied to for a title, but the spaniards declined to give it. the russians held possession, however, and proceeded with cultivation. to better protect their claims, nineteen miles up the coast, they erected a stockade mounting twenty guns. they called the fort kosstromitinoff, but the spaniards referred to it as _el fuerte de los rusos_, which was anglicized as fort russ, and, finally, as fort ross. the colony prospered for a while, but sealing "pinched out" and the territory occupied was too small to satisfy agricultural needs. in 1841 the russians sold the whole possession to general sutter for thirty thousand dollars and withdrew from california, returning to alaska. in 1827 a party of adventurers started north from fort ross for oregon, following the coast. one jedidiah smith, a trapper, was the leader. it is said that smith river, near the oregon line, was named for him. somewhere on the way all but four were reported killed by the indians. they are supposed to have been the first white men to enter the humboldt country. among the very early settlers in california was pearson b. redding, who lived on a ranch near mount shasta. in 1845, on a trapping expedition, he struck west through a divide in the coast range and discovered a good-sized, rapid river flowing to the west. from its direction and the habit of rivers to seek the sea, he concluded that it was likely to reach the pacific at about the latitude of trinidad, named seventy years before. he thereupon gave it the name of trinity, and in due time left it running and returned to his home. three years passed, and gold was discovered by marshall. redding was interested and curious and visited the scene of marshall's find. the american river and its bars reminded him of the trinity, and when he returned to his home he organized a party to prospect it. gold was found in moderate quantities, especially on the upper portions. the trinity mines extended confidence and added to the excitement. camps sprang up on every bar. the town of weaverville took the lead, and still holds it. quite a population followed and the matter of provisioning it became serious. the base of supplies was sacramento, two hundred miles distant and over a range of mountains. to the coast it could not be more than seventy miles. if the trinity entered a bay or was navigable, it would be a great saving and of tremendous advantage. the probability or possibility was alluring and was increasingly discussed. in october, 1849, there were at rich bar forty miners short of provisions and ready for any adventure. the indians reported that eight suns to the west was a large bay with fertile land and tall trees. a vision of a second san francisco, a port for all northern california, urged them to try for it. twenty-four men agreed to join the party, and the fifth of november was set for the start. dr. josiah gregg was chosen leader and two indians were engaged as guides. when the day arrived the rain was pouring and sixteen of the men and the two guides backed out, but the remaining eight were courageous (or foolhardy) and not to be thwarted. with a number of pack animals and eight days' supplies they started up the slippery mountainside. at the summit they encountered a snowstorm and camped for the night. in the morning they faced a western view that would have discouraged most men--a mass of mountains, rough-carved and snow-capped, with main ridges parallel on a northwesterly line. in every direction to the most distant horizon stretched these forbidding mountains. the distance to the ocean was uncertain, and their course to it meant surmounting ridge after ridge of the intervening mountains. they plunged down and on, crossed a swollen stream, and crawled up the eastern side of the next ridge. for six days this performance was repeated. then they reached a large stream with an almost unsurmountable mountain to the west. they followed down the stream until they found it joined another of about equal size. they had discovered the far-flowing south fork of the trinity. they managed to swim the united river and found a large indian village, apparently giving the inhabitants their first view of white men. the natives all fled in fright, leaving their camps to the strange beings. the invaders helped themselves to the smoked salmon that was plentiful, leaving flour in exchange. at dusk about eighty of the fighting sex returned with renewed courage, and threateningly. it took diplomacy to postpone an attack till morning, when powder would be dry. they relied upon a display of magic power from their firearms that would impress superior numbers with the senselessness of hostilities. they did not sleep in great security, and early in the morning proceeded with the demonstration, upon which much depended. when they set up a target and at sixty yards pierced a scrap of paper and the tree to which it was pinned the effect was satisfactory. the indians were astonished at the feat, but equally impressed by the unaccountable noise from the explosion. they became very friendly, warned the wonder-workers of the danger to be encountered if they headed north, where indians were many and fierce, and told them to keep due west. the perilous journey was continued by the ascent of another mountainside. provisions soon became very scarce, nothing but flour remaining, and little of that. on the 18th they went dinnerless to their cold blankets. their animals had been without food for two days, but the next morning they found grass. a redwood forest was soon encountered, and new difficulties developed. the underbrush was dense and no trails were found. fallen trees made progress very slow. two miles a day was all they could accomplish. they painfully worked through the section of the marvelous redwood belt destined to astonish the world, reaching a small prairie, where they camped. the following day they devoted to hunting, luckily killing a number of deer. here they remained several days, drying the venison in the meantime; but when, their strength recuperated, they resumed their journey, the meat was soon exhausted. three days of fasting for man and beast followed. two of the horses were left to their fate. then another prairie yielded more venison and the meat of three bears. for three weeks they struggled on; life was sustained at times by bitter acorns alone. at length the welcome sound of surf was heard, but three days passed before they reached the ocean. three of the animals had died of starvation in the last stretch of the forest. the men had not eaten for two days, and devoted the first day on the beach to securing food. one shot a bald eagle; another found a raven devouring a cast-up fish, both of which he secured. all were stewed together, and a good night's sleep followed the questionable meal. the party struck the coast near the headland that in 1775 had been named trinidad, but not being aware of this fact they named it, for their leader, gregg's point. after two days' feasting on mussels and dried salmon obtained from the indians, they kept on south. soon after crossing a small stream, now named little river, they came to one by no means so little. dr. gregg insisted on getting out his instruments and ascertaining the latitude, but the others had no scientific interest and were in a hurry to go on. they hired indians to row them across in canoes, and all except the doctor bundled in. finding himself about to be left, he grabbed up his instruments and waded out into the stream to reach the canoe, which had no intention of leaving him. he got in, wet and very angry, nursing his wrath till shore was reached; then he treated his companions to some vigorous language. they responded in kind, and the altercation became so violent that the row gave the stream its name, mad river. they continued down the beach, camping when night overtook them. wood, the chronicler of the expedition, [footnote: "the narrative of l.k. wood," published many years after, and largely incorporated in bledsoe's "history of the indian wars of northern california," is the source of most of the incidents relating to gregg's party embraced in this chapter.] and buck went in different directions to find water. wood returned first with a bucketful, brackish and poor. buck soon after arrived with a supply that looked much better, but when gregg sampled it he made a wry face and asked buck where he found it. he replied that he dipped it out of a smooth lake about a half mile distant. it was good plain salt water; they had discovered the mythical bay--or supposed they had. they credulously named it trinity, expecting to come to the river later. the next day they proceeded down the narrow sand strip that now bounds the west side of humboldt bay, but when they reached the harbor entrance from the ocean they were compelled to retrace their steps and try the east shore. the following day they headed the bay, camping at a beautiful plateau on the edge of the redwood belt, giving a fine view of a noble landlocked harbor and a rich stretch of bottom land reaching to mad river. here they found an abundant spring, and narrowly missed a good supper; for they shot a large elk, which, to their great disappointment, took to the brush. it was found dead the next morning, and its head, roasted in ashes, constituted a happy christmas dinner--for december 25th had arrived, completing an even fifty days since the start from rich bar. they proceeded leisurely down the east side of the bay, stopping the second day nearly opposite the entrance. it seemed a likely place for a townsite, and they honored the water-dipping discoverer by calling it bucksport. then they went on, crossing the little stream now named elk river, and camping near what was subsequently called humboldt point. they were disappointed that no river of importance emptied into so fine a bay, but they realized the importance of such a harbor and the value of the soil and timber. they were, however, in no condition to settle, or even to tarry. their health and strength were impaired, ammunition was practically exhausted, and there were no supplies. they would come back, but now they must reach civilization. it was midwinter and raining almost constantly. they had little idea of distance, but knew there were settlers to the south, and that they must reach them or starve. so they turned from the bay they had found to save their lives. the third day they reached a large river flowing from the south, entering the ocean a few miles south of the bay. as they reached it they met two very old indians loaded down with eels just taken from the river, which the indians freely shared with the travelers. they were so impressed with them and more that followed that they bestowed on the magnificent river which with many branches drains one of the most majestic domains on earth the insignificant, almost sacrilegious name of _eel_! for two days they camped, consuming eels and discussing the future. a most unfortunate difference developed, dividing the little group of men who had suffered together so long. gregg and three others favored following the ocean beach. the other four, headed by wood, were of the opinion that the better course would be to follow up eel river to its head, crossing the probably narrow divide and following down some stream headed either south or east. neither party would yield and they parted company, each almost hopeless. wood and his companions soon found their plan beset with great difficulties. spurs of the mountains came to the river's edge and cut off ascent. after five days they left the river and sought a mountain ridge. a heavy snowfall added to their discomfiture. they killed a small deer, and camped for five days, devouring it thankfully. compelled by the snow, they returned to the river-bed, the skin of the deer their only food. one morning they met and shot at five grizzly bears, but none were killed. the next morning in a mountain gully eight ugly grizzlies faced them. in desperation they determined to attack. wood and wilson were to advance and fire. the others held themselves in reserve--one of them up a tree. at fifty feet each selected a bear and fired. wilson killed his bear; wood thought he had finished his. the beast fell, biting the earth and writhing in agony. wilson sensibly climbed a tree and called upon wood to do likewise. he started to first reload his rifle and the ball stuck. when the two shots were fired five of the bears started up the mountain, but one sat quietly on its haunches watching proceedings. as wood struggled with his refractory bullet it started for him. he gained a small tree and climbed beyond reach. unable to load, he used his rifle to beat back the beast as it tried to claw him. to his horror the bear he thought was killed rose to its feet and furiously charged the tree, breaking it down at once. wood landed on his feet and ran down the mountain to a small buckeye, the bear after him. he managed to hook his arm around the tree, swinging his body clear. the wounded bear was carried by its momentum well down the mountain. wood ran for another tree, the other bear close after him, snapping at his heels. before he could climb out of reach he was grabbed by the ankle and pulled down. the wounded bear came jumping up the mountain and caught him by the shoulder. they pulled against each other as if to dismember him. his hip was dislocated and he suffered some painful flesh wounds. his clothing was stripped from his body and he felt the end had come, but the bears seemed disinclined to seize his flesh. they were evidently suspicious of white meat. finally one disappeared up the ravine, while the other sat down a hundred yards away, and keenly watched him. as long as he kept perfectly still the bear was quiet, but if he moved at all it rushed upon him. wilson came to his aid and both finally managed to climb trees beyond reach. the bear then sat down between the trees, watching both and growling threateningly if either moved. it finally tired of the game and to their great relief disappeared up the mountain. wood, suffering acutely, was carried down to the camp, where they remained twelve days, subsisting on the bear wilson had killed. wood grew worse instead of better, and the situation was grave. little ammunition was left, they were practically without shoes or clothing, and certain death seemed to face them. wood urged them to seek their own safety, saying they could leave him with the indians, or put an end to his sufferings at any time. failing to induce the indians to take him, it was decided to try to bind him on his horse and take him along on the hard journey. he suffered torture, but it was a day at a time and he had great fortitude. after ten days of incredible suffering they reached the ranch of mrs. mark west, thirty miles from sonoma. the date was february 17th, one hundred and four days from rich bar. the four who started to follow the beach had experiences no less trying. they found it impossible to accomplish their purpose. bold mountains came quite to the shore and blocked the way. they finally struck east for the sacramento valley. they were short of food and suffered unutterably. dr. gregg grew weaker day by day until he fell from his horse and died from starvation, speaking no word. the other three pushed on and managed to reach sacramento a few days after the wood party arrived at sonoma. while these adventurous miners were prosecuting the search for the mythical harbor, enterprising citizens of san francisco renewed efforts to reach it from the ocean. in december, 1849, soon after wood and his companions started from the trinity river, the brig "cameo" was dispatched north to search carefully for a port. she returned without success, but was again dispatched. on this trip she rediscovered trinidad. interest grew, and by march of 1850 not less than forty vessels were enlisted in the search. my father, who left boston early in 1849, going by panama and the chagres river, had been through three fires in san francisco and was ready for any change. he joined with a number of acquaintances on one of these ventures, acting as secretary of the company. they purchased the "paragon," a gloucester fishing-boat of 125 tons burden, and early in march, under the command of captain march, with forty-two men in the party, sailed north. they hugged the coast and kept a careful lookout for a harbor, but passed the present humboldt bay in rather calm weather and in the daytime without seeing it. the cause of what was then inexplicable is now quite plain. the entrance has the prevailing northwest slant. the view into the bay from the ocean is cut off by the overlapping south spit. a direct view reveals no entrance; you can not see in by looking back after having passed it. at sea the line of breakers seems continuous, the protruding point from the south connecting in surf line with that from the north. moreover, the bay at the entrance is very narrow. the wooded hills are so near the entrance that there seems no room for a bay. the "paragon" soon found heavy weather and was driven far out to sea. then for three days she was in front of a gale driving her in shore. she reached the coast nearly at the oregon line and dropped anchor in the lee of a small island near point st. george. in the night a gale sprang up, blowing fiercely in shore toward an apparently solid cliff. one after another the cables to her three anchors parted, and my father said it was with a feeling of relief that they heard the last one snap, the suspense giving way to what they believed to be the end of all. but there proved to be an unsuspected sandspit at the base of the cliff, and the "paragon" at high tide plowed her way to a berth she never left. her bones long marked the spot, and for many years the roadstead was known as paragon bay. no lives were lost and no property was saved. about twenty-five of the survivors returned to san francisco on the "cameo," but my father stayed by, and managed to reach humboldt bay soon after its discovery, settling in uniontown in may, 1850. the glory of the ocean discovery remained for the "laura virginia," a baltimore craft, commanded by lieutenant douglass ottinger, a revenue officer on leave of absence. she left soon after the "paragon," and kept close in shore. soon after leaving cape mendocino she reached the mouth of eel river and came to anchor. the next day three other vessels anchored and the "general morgan" sent a boat over the river bar. the "laura virginia" proceeded north and the captain soon saw the waters of a bay, but could see no entrance. he proceeded, anchoring first at trinidad and then at where crescent city was later located. there he found the "cameo" at anchor and the "paragon" on the beach. remaining in the roadstead two days, he started back, and tracing a stream of fresh-looking water discovered the mouth of the klamath. arriving at trinidad, he sent five men down by land to find out if there was an entrance to the bay he had seen. on their favorable report, second officer buhne was instructed to take a ship's boat and sound the entrance before the vessel should attempt it. on april 9, 1850, he crossed the bar, finding four and a half fathoms. buhne remained in the bay till the ship dropped down. on april 14th he went out and brought her in. after much discussion the bay and the city they proposed to locate were named humboldt, after the distinguished naturalist and traveler, for whom a member of the company had great admiration. let us now return to l.k. wood, whom we left at the mark west home in the sonoma valley, recovering from the serious injuries incident to the bear encounter on eel river. after about six weeks of recuperation, wood pushed on to san francisco and organized a party of thirty men to return to humboldt and establish a settlement. they were twenty days on the journey, arriving at the shore of the bay on april 19th, five days after the entrance of the "laura virginia." they were amazed to see the vessel at anchor off humboldt point. they quietly drew back into the woods, and skirting the east side of the bay came out at the bucksport site. four men remained to hold it. the others pushed on to the head of the bay, where they had enjoyed their christmas dinner. this they considered the best place for a town. for three days they were very busily engaged in posting notices, laying foundations for homes, and otherwise fortifying their claims. they named the new settlement uniontown. about six years afterward it was changed to arcata, the original indian name for the spot. the change was made in consideration of the confusion occasioned by there being a uniontown in el dorado county. and so the hidden harbor that had long inspired legend and tradition, and had been the source of great suffering and loss, was revealed. it was _not_ fed by the trinity or any other river. the mouth of the trinity was _not_ navigable; it did not boast a mouth--the klamath just swallowed it. the klamath's far-northern mouth was a poor affair, useless for commercial purposes. but a great empire had been opened and an enormously serviceable harbor had been added to california's assets. it aided mining and created immense lumber interests. strange as it may seem, humboldt bay was not discovered at this time. some years ago a searcher of the archives of far-off st. petersburg found unquestionable proof that the discovery was made in 1806, and not in 1849-50. early in the nineteenth century the russian-american company was all-powerful and especially active in the fur trade. it engaged an american captain, jonathan winship, who commanded an american crew on the ship "ocean." the outfit, accompanied by a hundred aleut indians, with fifty-two small boats, was sent from alaska down the california coast in pursuit of seals. they anchored at trinidad and spread out for the capture of sea-otter. eighteen miles south they sighted a bay and finally found the obscure entrance. they entered with a boat and then followed with the ship, which anchored nearly opposite the location of eureka. they found fifteen feet of water on the bar. from the large number of indians living on its shores, they called it the bay of the indians. the entrance they named resanof. winship made a detailed sketch of the bay and its surroundings, locating the indian villages and the small streams that enter the bay. it was sent to st. petersburg and entered on a russian map. the spaniards seem never to have known anything of it, and the americans evidently considered the incident of no importance. humboldt as a community developed slowly. for five years its real resources were neglected. [illustration: humboldt bay--from russian atlas the hidden harbor--thrice discovered winship, 1806. gregg, 1849. ottinger, 1850.] it was merely the shipping point from which the mines of the trinity and klamath rivers were supplied by mule trains. gradually agriculture was developed, and from 1855 lumber was king. it is now a great domain. the county is a little less than three times the size of the state of rhode island, and its wealth of resources and its rugged and alluring beauty are still gaining in recognition. its unique glory is the world-famous redwood belt. for its entire length, one hundred and six miles of coast line, and of an average depth of eight miles, extends the marvelous grove. originally it comprised 540,000 acres. for more than sixty years it has been mercilessly depleted, yet it is claimed that the supply will not be exhausted for two hundred years. there is nothing on the face of the earth to compare with this stand of superb timber. trees reach two hundred and fifty feet in height, thirty feet in diameter, and a weight of 1,250,000 pounds. through countless centuries these noble specimens have stood, majestic, serene, reserved for man's use and delight. in these later years fate has numbered their days, but let us firmly withstand their utter demolition. it is beyond conception that all these monuments to nature's power and beauty should be sacrificed. we must preserve accessible groves for the inspiration and joy of those who will take our places. the coast highway following down one of the forks of the eel river passes through the magnificent redwood belt and affords a wonderful view of these superb trees. efforts are now being made to preserve the trees bordering the highway, that one of the most attractive features of california's scenic beauty may be preserved for all time. california has nothing more impressive to offer than these majestic trees, and they are an asset she cannot afford to lose. chapter iii nine years north uniontown (now arcata) had enjoyed the early lead among the humboldt bay towns. the first consideration had been the facility in supplying the mines on the trinity and the klamath. all goods were transported by pack-trains, and the trails over the mountains were nearer the head of the bay. but soon lumber became the leading industry, and the mills were at eureka on deep water at the center of the bay, making that the natural shipping point. it grew rapidly, outstripping its rival, and also capturing the county-seat. arcata struggled valiantly, but it was useless. her geographical position was against her. in an election she shamelessly stuffed the ballot box, but eureka went to the legislature and won her point. arcata had the most beautiful location and its people were very ambitious. in fruitless effort to sustain its lead, the town had built a pier almost two miles in length to a slough navigable to ocean steamers. a single horse drew a flat car carrying passengers and freight. it was the nearest approach to a railroad in the state of california at the time of our arrival on that lovely morning in 1855. we disembarked from the ancient craft and were soon leisurely pursuing our way toward the enterprising town at the other end of the track. it seemed that we were met by the entire population; for the arrival of the steamer with mail and passengers was the exciting event of the month. the station was near the southwest corner of the plaza, which we crossed diagonally to the post-office, housed in the building that had been my father's store until he sold out the year before, when he was elected to the assembly. murdock's hall was in the second story, and a little way north stood a zinc house that was to be our home. it had been shipped first to san francisco and then to humboldt. its plan and architecture were the acme of simplicity. there were three rooms tandem, each with a door in the exact middle, so that if all the doors were open a bullet would be unimpeded in passing through. to add to the social atmosphere, a front porch, open at both ends, extended across the whole front. a horseman could, and in fact often did, ride across it. my brother and i occupied a chamber over the post-office, and he became adept in going to sleep on the parlor sofa every night and later going to bed in the store without waking, dodging all obstructing objects and undressing while sound asleep. we were quite comfortable in this joke of a house. but we had no pump; all the water we used i brought from a spring in the edge of the woods, the one found by the gregg party on the night of christmas, 1849. the first time i visited it and dipped my bucket in the sunken barrel that protected it i had a shock. before leaving san francisco, being a sentimental youth and knowing little of what humboldt offered, i bought two pots of fragrant flowers--heliotrope and a musk-plant--bringing them on the steamer with no little difficulty. as i dipped into the barrel i noticed that it was surrounded by a solid mass of musk-plants growing wild. the misapprehension was at least no greater than that which prompted some full-grown man to ship a zinc house to the one spot in the world where the most readily splitting lumber was plentiful. one of the sights shown to the newcomer was a two-story house built before the era of the sawmill. it was built of split lumber from a single redwood tree--and enough remained to fence the lot! within a stone's throw from the musk-plant spring was a standing redwood, with its heart burned out, in which thirteen men had slept one night, just to boast of it. later, in my time, a shingle-maker had occupied the tree all one winter, both as a residence and as a shop where he made shingles for the trade. we had a very pleasant home and were comfortable and happy. we had a horse, cows, rabbits, and pigeons. our garden furnished berries and vegetables in plenty. the indians sold fish, and i provided at first rabbits and then ducks and geese. one delicious addition to our table was novel to us. as a part of the redwood's undergrowth was a tall bush that in its season yielded a luscious and enormous berry called the salmon-berry. it was much like a raspberry, generally salmon in color, very juicy and delicate, approximating an inch and a half in diameter. armed with a long pole, a short section of a butt limb forming a sort of shepherd's crook, i would pull down the heavily laden branches and after a few moments in the edge of the woods would be provided with a dessert fit for any queen, and so appropriate for my mother. california in those early days seemed wholly dependent on the foreign markets. flour came from chile, "haxall" being the common brand; cheese from holland and switzerland; cordials, sardines, and prunes from france; ale and porter from england; olives from spain; whiskey from scotland. boston supplied us with crackers, philadelphia sent us boots, and new orleans furnished us with sugar and molasses. the stores that supplied the mines carried almost everything--provisions, clothing, dry goods, and certainly wet goods. at every store there was found an open barrel of whiskey, with a convenient glass sampler that would yield through the bunghole a fair-sized drink to test the quality. one day i went into a store where a clever chinaman was employed. he had printed numerous placards announcing the stock. i noticed a fresh one that seemed incongruous. it read, "codfish and cologne water." i said, "what's the idea?" he smilingly replied, "you see its place? i hang it over the whiskey-barrel. some time man come to steal a drink. i no see him; he read sign, he laugh, i hear him, i see him." there was no school in the town when we came. it troubled my mother that my brother and sister must be without lessons. several other small children were deprived of opportunity. in the emergency we cleaned out a room in the store, formerly occupied by a county officer, and i organized a very primary school. i was almost fifteen, but the children were good and manageable. i did not have very many, and fortunately i was not called upon to teach very long. there came to town a clever man, robert desty. he wanted to teach. there was no school building, but he built one all by his own hands. he suggested that i give up my school and become a pupil of his. i was very glad to do it. he was a good and ingenious teacher. i enjoyed his lessons about six months, and then felt i must help my father. my stopping was the only graduation in my experience. my father was an inveterate trader, and the year after our coming he joined with another venturer in buying the standing crop of wheat in hoopa valley, on the trinity river. i went up to help in the harvesting, being charged with the weighing of the sacked grain. it was a fine experience for an innocent yankee boy. we lived out of doors, following the threshers from farm to farm, eating under an oak tree and sleeping on the fragrant straw-piles. i was also the butt of about the wildest lot of jokers ever assembled. they were good-natured, but it was their concerted effort to see how much i could stand in the way of highly flavored stories at mealtime. it was fun for them, besides they felt it would be a service to knock out some of the boston "sissiness." i do not doubt it was. they never quite drove me away from the table. in the meantime i had a great good time. it was a very beautiful spot and all was new and strange. there were many indians, and they were interesting. they lived in rancherias of puncheons along the river. each group of dwellings had a musical name. one village was called matiltin, another savanalta. the children swam like so many ducks, and each village had its sweathouse from which every adult, to keep in health and condition, would plunge into the swiftly flowing river. they lived on salmon, fresh or dried, and on grass-seed cakes cooked on heated stones. they were handsome specimens physically and were good workers. the river was not bridged, but it was not deep and canoes were plenty. if none were seen on the side which you chanced to find yourself, you had only to call, "wanus, matil!" (come, boat!) and one would come. if in a hurry, "holish!" would expedite the service. the indian language was fascinating and musical. "iaquay" was the word of friendly greeting. "aliquor" was indian, "waugee" was white man, "chick" was the general word for money. when "waugee-chick" was mentioned, it meant gold or silver; if "aliquor-chick," reference was made to the spiral quill-like shells which served as their currency, their value increasing rapidly by the length. [footnote: in the hawaiian islands short shells of this variety are strung for beads, but have little value.] there are frequent combined words. "hutla" is night, "wha" is the sun; "hutla-wha" is the moon--the night-sun. if an indian wishes to ask where you are going, he will say, "ta hunt tow ingya?" "teena scoia" is very good. "skeena" is too small. "semastolon" is a young woman; if she is considered beautiful, "clane nuquum" describes her. the indians were very friendly and hospitable. if i wanted an account-book that was on the other side of the river, they would not bother for a canoe, but swim over with it, using-one hand and holding the book high in the air. i found they had settled habits and usages that seemed peculiar to them. if one of their number died, they did not like it referred to; they wished for no condolence. "indian die, indian no talk," was their expression. it was a wonder to me that in a valley connected with civilization by only a trail there should be found mccormick's reapers and pitt's threshers. parts too large for a mule's pack had been cut in two and afterwards reunited. by some dint of ingenuity even a millstone had been hauled over the roadless mountains. the wheat we harvested was ground at the hoopa mill and the flour was shipped to the trinity and klamath mines. all the week we harvested vigorously, and on sunday we devoted most of the day to visiting the watermelon patches and sampling the product. of course, we spent a portion of the day in washing our few clothes, usually swimming and splashing in the river until they were dry. the valley was long and narrow, with mountains on both sides so high that the day was materially shortened in the morning and at night. the tardy sun was ardent when he came, but disturbed us little. the nights were blissful--beds so soft and sweet and a canopy so beautiful! in the morning we awoke to the tender call of cooing doves, and very soon lined up for breakfast in the perfectly ventilated out-of-doors. happy days they were! wise and genial captain snyder, sonnichsen, the patient cook, jim brock, happy tormentor--how clearly they revisit the glimpses of the moon! returning to uniontown, i resumed my placid, busy life, helping in the garden, around the house, and in the post-office. my father was wise in his treatment. boylike i would say, "father, what shall i do?" he would answer, "look around and find out. i'll not always be here to tell you." thrown on my own resources, i had no trouble in finding enough to do, and i was sufficiently normal and indolent to be in no danger of finding too much. the post-office is a harborer of secrets and romance. the postmaster and his assistants alone know "who's who." a character of a packer, tall, straight, and bearded, always called joe the marine, would steal in and call for comely letters addressed to james ashhurst, esq. robert desty was found to be mons. robert d'esti mauville. a blacksmith whose letters were commonly addressed to c.e. bigelow was found entitled to one inscribed c.e.d.l.b. bigelow. asked what his full name was, he replied, "charles edward decatur la fitte butterfield bigelow." and, mind you, he was a _blacksmith_! his christening entitled him to it all, but he felt that all he could afford was what he commonly used. phonetics have a distinct value. uncertain of spelling, one can fall back on remembered sound. i found a letter addressed to "sanerzay." i had no difficulty in determining that san jose was intended. hard labor was suggested when someone wrote "youchiyer." the letter found its resting-place in ukiah. among my miscellaneous occupations was the pasturage of mules about to start on the return trip to the mines. we had a farm and logging-claim on the outskirts of town which afforded a good farewell bite of grass, and at night i would turn loose twenty to forty mules and their beloved bell-mare to feed and fight mosquitoes. early the next morning i would saddle my charger and go and bring them to the packing corral. never shall i forget a surprise given me one morning. i had a tall, awkward mare, and was loping over the field looking for my charges. an innocent little rabbit scuttled across kate's path and she stopped in her tracks as her feet landed. i was gazing for the mule train and i did not stop. i sailed over her head, still grasping the bridle reins, which, attached to the bit, i also had to overleap, so that the next moment i found myself standing erect with the reins between my legs, holding on to a horse behind me still standing in her arrested tracks. remounting, i soon found the frisky mules and started them toward misery. driven into the corral where their freight had been divided into packs of from one hundred to one hundred and fifty pounds, they were one by one saddled, cinched, and packed. a small mule would seem to be unequal to carrying two side-packs, each consisting of three fifty-pound sacks of flour, and perhaps a case of boots for a top-pack. but protests of groans and grunts would be unavailing. two swarthy mexicans, by dint of cleverly thrown ropes and the "diamond hitch," would soon have in place all that the traffic would bear, and the small indian boy on the mother of the train, bearing a tinkling bell, would lead them on their way to salmon river or to orleans bar. another frequent duty was the preparation of the hall for some public function. it might be a dance, a political meeting, or some theatrical performance. different treatment would be required, but all would include cleaning and lighting. at a dance it was floor-scrubbing, filling the camphene lamps, and making up beds for the babies to be later deposited by their dancing mothers. very likely i would tend door and later join in the dance, which commonly continued until morning. politics interested me. in the frã©mont campaign of 1856 my father was one of four republicans in the county, and was by no means popular. he lived to see humboldt county record a six hundred majority for the republican ticket. some of our local legislative candidates surprised and inspired me by their eloquence and unexpected knowledge and ability. it was good to find that men read and thought, even when they lived in the woods and had little encouragement. occasionally we had quite good theatrical performances. very early i recall a thespian named thoman, who was supported by a julia pelby. they vastly pleased an uncritical audience. i was doorkeeper, notwithstanding that thoman doubted if i was "hefty" enough. "little lotta" crabtree was charming. her mother traveled with her. between performances she played with her dolls. she danced gracefully and sang fascinatingly such songs as "i'm the covey what sings." another prime favorite was joe murphy, irish comedian and violinist, pleasing in both roles. i remember a singing comedian who bewailed his sad estate: "for now i have nothing but rags to my back, my boots scarce cover my toes, while my pants are patched with an old flour-sack, to jibe with the rest of my clo'es." the singing-school was pleasure-yielding, its greatest joy being incidental. when i could cut ahead of a chum taking a girl home and shamelessly trip him up with a stretched rope and get back to the drugstore and be curled up in the woodbox when he reached his final destination, i am afraid i took unholy joy. not long after coming we started a public library. mother and i covered all the books, this being considered an economical necessity. somewhat later arcata formed a debating society that was really a helpful influence. it engaged quite a wide range of membership, and we discussed almost everything. some of our members were fluent of speech from long participation in methodist experience meetings. others were self-trained even to pronunciation. one man of good mind, always said "here_dit_ary." he had read french history and often referred to the _gridironists_ of france. i have an idea he was the original of the man whom bret harte made refer to the greek hero as "old ashheels." our meetings were open, and among the visitors i recall a clerk of a commander in the indian war. he afterwards became lieutenant-governor of the state, and later a senator from nevada--john p. jones. an especial pleasure were the thoroughness and zest with which we celebrated the fourth of july. the grown-ups did well in the daylight hours, when the procession, the oration, and the reading of the declaration were in order; but with the shades of night the fireworks would have been inadequate but for the activity of the boys. the town was built around a handsome plaza, probably copied from sonoma as an incident of the wood sojourn. on the highest point in the center a fine flagstaff one hundred and twenty feet high was proudly crowned by a liberty-cap. this elevated plateau was the field of our display. on a spot not too near the flagstaff we planned for a spectacular center of flame. during the day we gathered material for an enormous bonfire. huge casks formed the base and inflammable material of all kinds reached high in the air. at dark we fired the pile. but the chief interest was centered in hundreds of balls of twine, soaked in camphene, which we lighted and threw rapidly from hand to hand all over the plaza. we could not hold on to them long, but we didn't need to. they came flying from every direction and were caught from the ground and sent back before they had a chance to burn. the noise and excitement can be easily imagined. blackened and weary boys kept it up till the bonfire was out and the balls had grown too small to pick up. nothing interfered with our celebrations. when the indians were "bad" we forsook the redwoods and built our speaker's stand and lunch tables and benches out in the open beyond firing distance. our garden was quite creditable. vegetables were plentiful and my flower-beds, though formal, were pleasing. stock-raising was very interesting. one year i had the satisfaction of breaking three heifers and raising their calves. my brother showed more enterprise, for he induced a plump young mother of the herd to allow him to ride her when he drove the rest to pasture. upon our arrival in uniontown we found the only church was the methodist. we at once attended, and i joined the sunday-school. my teacher was a periodically reformed boatman. when he fell from grace he was taken in hand by the sons of temperance, which i had also joined. "morning star division, no. 106," was never short of material to work on. my first editorial experience was on its spicy little written journal. i went through the chairs and became "worthy patriarch" while still a boy. the church was mostly served by first-termers, not especially inspiring. i recall one good man who seemed to have no other qualification for the office. he frankly admitted that he had worked in a mill and in a lumber-yard, and said he liked preaching "better than anything he'd ever been at." he was very sincere and honest. he had a uniform lead in prayer: "o lord, we thank thee that it is as well with us as what it is." the sentiment was admirable, but somehow the manner grated. when the presiding elder came around we had a relief. he was wide-awake and witty. one night he read the passage of scripture where they all began with one accord to make excuses. one said: "i have married a wife and cannot come." the elder, looking up, said, "why didn't the pesky fool bring her with him?" in the process of time the presbyterians started a church, and i went there; swept out, trimmed the lamps, and sang in the choir. the preacher was an educated man, and out of the pulpit was kind and reasonable; but he persisted that "good deeds were but as filthy rags." i didn't believe it and i didn't like it. the staid pastor had but little recreation, and i am afraid i was always glad that ulrica schumacher, the frisky sister of the gunsmith, almost always beat him at chess. he was succeeded by a man i loved, and i wonder i did not join his church. we were good friends and used to go out trout-fishing together. he was a delightful man, but when he was in the pulpit he shrank and shriveled. the danger of presbyterianism passed when he expressed his doubt whether it would be best for my mother to partake of communion, as she had all her life in the unitarian church. she was willing, but waited his approval. my mother was the most saintly of women, absolutely unselfish and self-sacrificing, and it shocked me that any belief or lack of belief should exclude her from a christian communion. when my father, in one of his numerous trades, bought out the only tinshop and put me in charge he changed my life and endangered my disposition. the tinsmith left the county and i was left with the tools and the material, the only tinsmith in humboldt county. how i struggled and bungled! i could make stovepipe by the mile, but it was a long time before i could double-seam a copper bottom onto a tin wash-boiler. i lived to construct quite a decent traveling oilcan for a eureka sawmill, but such triumphs come through mental anguish and burned fingers. no doubt the experience extended my desultory education. the taking over of the tinshop was doubly disappointing, since i really wanted to go into the office of the _northern californian_ and become a printer and journalist. that job i turned over to bret harte, who was clever and cultivated, but had not yet "caught on." leon chevret, the french hotelkeeper, said of him to a lawyer of his acquaintance, "bret harte, he have the napoleonic nose, the nose of genius; also, like many of you professional men, his debts trouble him very little." there were many interesting characters among the residents of the town and county. at times there came to play the violin at our dances one seth kinman, a buckskin-clad hunter. he became nationally famous when he fashioned and presented elkhorn chairs to buchanan and several succeeding presidents. they were ingenious and beautiful, and he himself was most picturesque. one of our originals was a shiftless and merry iowan to whose name was added by courtesy the prefix "dr." he had a small farm in the outskirts. gates hung from a single hinge and nothing was kept in repair. he preferred to use his time in persuading nature to joke. a single cucumber grown into a glass bottle till it could not get out was worth more than a salable crop, and a single cock whose comb had grown around an inserted pullet breastbone, until he seemed the precursor of a new breed of horned roosters, was better than much poultry. he reached his highest fame in the cure of his afflicted wife. she languished in bed and he diagnosed her illness as resulting from the fact that she was "hidebound." his house he had never had time to complete. the rafters were unobstructed by ceiling, so she was favorably situated for treatment. he fixed a lasso under her arms, threw the end around a rafter, and proceeded to loosen her refractory hide. one of our leading merchants was a deacon in the methodist church and so enjoyed the patronage of his brother parishioners. one of them came in one day and asked the paying price of eggs. the deacon told him "sixty cents a dozen." "what are sail-needles?" "five cents apiece." the brother produced an egg and proposed a swap. it was smilingly accepted and the egg added to the pile of stock. the brother lingered and finally drawled, "deacon, it's customary, isn't it, to _treat_ a buyer?" "it is; what will you take?" laughingly replied the deacon. "sherry is nice." the deacon poured out the sherry and handed it to his customer, who hesitated and timidly remarked that sherry was improved by a raw egg. the amused deacon turned around and took from the egg-pile the identical one he had received. as the brother broke it into his glass he noticed it had an extra yolk. after enjoying his drink, he handed back the empty glass and said: "deacon, that egg had a double yolk; don't you think you ought to give me another sail-needle?" when thomas starr king was electrifying the state in support of the sanitary commission (the red cross of the civil war), arcata caught the fever and in november, 1862, held a great meeting at the presbyterian church. our leading ministers and lawyers appealed with power and surprising subscriptions followed. mr. coddington, our wealthiest citizen, started the list with three hundred dollars and ten dollars a month during the war. others followed, giving according to their ability. one man gave for himself, as well as for his wife and all his children. on taking his seat and speaking to his wife, he jumped up and added one dollar for the new baby that he had forgotten. when money gave out other belongings were sacrificed. one man gave twenty-five bushels of wheat, another ten cords of wood, another his saddle, another a gun. a notary gave twenty dollars in fees. a cattleman brought down the house when he said, "i have no money, but i will give a cow, and a calf a month as long as the war lasts." the following day it was my joy as secretary to auction off the merchandise. when all was forwarded to san francisco we were told we had won first honors, averaging over twenty-five dollars for each voter in the town. one interesting circumstance was the consignment to me of the first shipments of two novelties that afterward became very common. the discovery of coal-oil and the utilization of kerosene for lighting date back to about 1859. the first coal-oil lamps that came to humboldt were sent to me for display and introduction. likewise, about 1860, a grover & baker sewing-machine was sent up for me to exhibit. by way of showing its capabilities, i sewed the necessary number of yard-widths of the length of murdock's hall to make a new ceiling, of which it chanced to stand in need. humboldt county was an isolated community. sea steamers were both infrequent and uncertain, with ten days or two weeks and more between arrivals. there were no roads to the interior, but there were trails, and they were often threatened by treacherous indians. the indians living near us on mad river were peaceful, but the mountain indians were dangerous, and we never knew when we were really safe. in arcata we had one stone building, a store, and sometimes the frightened would resort to it at night. in times of peace, settlers lived on mad river, on redwood creek, and on the bald hills, where they herded their cattle. one by one they were killed or driven in until there was not a white person living between the bay and trinity river. mail carriers were shot down, and the young men of arcata were often called upon at night to nurse the wounded. we also organized a military company, and a night duty was drilling our men on the plaza or up past the gruesome graveyard. my command was never called out for service, but i had some fortunate escapes from being waylaid. i walked around the bay one morning; a few hours later a man was ambushed on the road. on one occasion i narrowly escaped participation in warfare. in august, 1862, there had been outrages by daring indian bands, killing unprotected men close to town. once a few of us followed the tracks of a party and traced the marauders across mad river and toward a small prairie known to our leader, ousley the saddler. as we passed along a small road he caught the sign. a whiff of a shred of cotton cloth caught on a bush denoted a smoky native. a crushed fern, still moist, told him they had lately passed. at his direction we took to the woods and crawled quietly toward the near-by prairie. our orders were to wait the signal. if the band we expected to find was not too large, we should be given the word to attack. if there were too many for us, we should back out and go to town for help. we soon heard them plainly as they made camp. we found about three times our number, and we retired very quietly and made for the nearest farmhouse that had a team. in town many were anxious to volunteer. my mother did not want me to go, and i must confess i was in full accord with her point of view. i therefore served as commissary, collecting and preparing quantities of bread, bacon, and cheese for a breakfast and distributing a packed bag to each soldier. the attack at daylight resulted in one death to our command and a number to the indians. it was followed up, and a few days later the band was almost annihilated. the plunder recovered proved them guilty of many late attacks. this was toward the end of the indian war that had for so many years been disastrous to the community, and which in many of its aspects was deeply pathetic. originally the indian population was large. the coast indians were spoken of as diggers, and inferior in character. they were generally peaceful and friendly while the mountain dwellers were inclined to hostility. as a whole they did not represent a very high type of humanity, and all seemed to take to the vices rather than to the virtues of the white race, which was by no means represented at its best. a few unprincipled whites were always ready to stir up trouble and the indians were treacherous and when antagonized they killed the innocent rather than the guilty, for they were cowards and took the fewest possible chances. i have known an indian hater who seemed to think the only good indian was a dead one go unmolested through an entire campaign, while a friendly old man was shot from behind while milking his cow. the town was near the edge of the woods and no one was secure. the fine character whom we greatly respected,--the debater of original pronunciation,--who had never wronged a human being of any race, was shot down from the woods quite near the plaza. the regular army was useless in protection or punishment. their regulations and methods did not fit. they made fine plans, but they failed to work. they would locate the enemy and detail detachments to move from various points to surround and capture the foe, but when they got there the bushes were bare. finally battalions of mountaineers were organized among men who knew indian ways and were their equals in cunning. they soon satisfied the hostiles that they would be better off on the reservations that were provided and the war was at an end. it was to the credit of humboldt county that in the final settlement of the contest the rights of the indians were quite fairly considered and the reservations set aside for their residence were of valuable land well situated and fitted for the purpose. hoopa valley, on the trinity, was purchased from its settlers and constituted a reservation protected by fort gaston and a garrison. it was my pleasure to revisit the scene of my boyhood experience and assist in the transfer largely conducted through the leadership of austin wiley, the editor and owner of the _humboldt times_. he was subsequently made superintendent of indian affairs for the state of california, and as his clerk i helped in the administration. when i visited the smith river reservation, to which the bay indians had been sent, i was hailed with joy as "major's pappoose," whom they remembered of old. (my father was always called major.) among the warm friendships formed at this time two stand out. two boys of about my age were to achieve brilliant careers. very early i became intimate with alexander brizard, a clerk in the store of f. roskill, a russian. he was my companion in the adventure of following the indian marauders, and my associate in the church choir and the debating club. in 1863 he joined a fellow clerk in establishing a modest business concern, the firm being known as a. brizard & co.; the unnamed partner was james alexander campbell van rossum, a hollander. they prospered amazingly. van rossum died early, brizard became the leading merchant of northern california, and his sons still continue the chain of stores that grew from the small beginning. he was a strong, fine character. the other boy, very near to me, was john j. dehaven, who was first a printer, then a lawyer, then a state senator, then a congressman, and finally a u.s. district judge. he was very able and distinguished himself in every place in life to which he advanced. in 1861, when my father had become superintendent of a nevada county gold mine, he left me to run the post-office, cut the timothy hay, and manage a logging-camp. it was wartime and i had a longing to enlist. one day i received a letter from him, and as i tore it open a startling sentence caught my eye, "your commission will come by the next steamer." i caught my breath and south particulars. it informed me that senator sargent, his close friend, had secured for me the appointment of register of the land office at humboldt. [illustration: presidential commission as registrar of the land office at humboldt, california] there had been a vacancy for some time, resulting from reduction in the pay from $3000 in gold to $500 in greenbacks, together with commissions, which were few. my father thought it would be good experience for me and advised my acceptance. and so at twenty-two i became a federal officeholder. the commission from president lincoln is the most treasured feature of the incident. i learned some valuable lessons. the honor was great and the position was responsible, but i soon felt constrained to resign, to accept a place as quartermaster's clerk, where i had more pay with more work. i was stationed at fort humboldt, where grant spent a few uncomfortable months in 1854. it was an experience very different from any i had ever had. army accounting is wholly unlike civilian, books being dispensed with and accounts of all kinds being made in quadruplicate. i shed quantities of red ink and made my monthly papers appear well. i had no responsibility and obeyed orders, but i could not be wholly comfortable when i covered in all the grain that every mule was entitled to when i had judicial knowledge that he had been turned out to grass. nor could i believe that the full amount of cordwood allowed officers was consumed when fires were infrequent. i was only sure that it was paid for. aside from these ethical informalities the life was socially agreeable, and there is glamour in the military. my period of service was not very long. my father had settled in san francisco and the family had joined him. i was lonely, and when my friend, the new superintendent of indian affairs, offered me employment i forsook fort humboldt and took up my residence in the city by the golden gate. chapter iv the real bret harte before taking up the events related to my residence in san francisco i wish to give my testimony concerning bret harte, perhaps the most interesting character associated with my sojourn in humboldt. it was before he was known to fame that i knew him; but i am able to correct some errors that have been made and i believe can contribute to a more just estimate of him as a literary artist and a man. he has been misjudged as to character. he was a remarkable personality, who interpreted an era of unusual interest, vital and picturesque, with a result unparalleled in literary annals. when he died in england in 1902 the english papers paid him very high tribute. the _london spectator_ said of him: "no writer of the present day has struck so powerful and original a note as he has sounded." this is a very unusual acknowledgment from a source not given to the superlative, and fills us with wonder as to what manner of man and what sort of training had led to it. causes are not easily determined, but they exist and function. accidents rarely if ever happen. heredity and experience very largely account for results. what is their testimony in this particular case? francis bret harte was born in albany, new york, february 25, 1836. his father was a highly educated instructor in greek, of english-jewish descent. his mother was an ostrander, a cultivated and fine character of dutch descent. his grandmother on his father's side was catherine brett. he had an elder brother and two younger sisters. the boys were voracious readers and began shakespeare when six, adding dickens at seven. frank developed an early sense of humor, burlesquing the baldness of his primer and mimicking the recitations of some of his fellow pupils when he entered school. he was studious and very soon began to write. at eleven he sent a poem to a weekly paper and was a little proud when he showed it to the family in print. when they heartlessly pointed out its flaws he was less hilarious. his father died when he was very young and he owed his training to his mother. he left school at thirteen and was first a lawyer's clerk and later found work in a counting-room. he was self-supporting at sixteen. in 1853 his mother married colonel andrew williams, an early mayor of oakland, and removed to california. the following year bret and his younger sister, margaret, followed her, arriving in oakland in march, 1854. he found the new home pleasant. the relations with his cultivated stepfather were congenial and cordial, but he suffered the fate of most untrained boys. he was fairly well educated, but he had no trade or profession. he was bright and quick, but remunerative employment was not readily found, and he did not relish a clerkship. for a time he was given a place in a drugstore. some of his early experiences are embalmed in "how reuben allen saw life" and in "bohemian days." in the latter he says: "i had been there a week,--an idle week, spent in listless outlook for employment, a full week, in my eager absorption of the strange life around me and a photographic sensitiveness to certain scenes and incidents of those days, which stand out in my memory today as freshly as on the day they impressed me." it was a satisfaction that he found some congenial work. he wrote for _putnam's_ and the _knickerbocker_. in 1856, when he was twenty, he went to alamo, in the san ramon valley, as tutor in an interesting family. he found the experience agreeable and valuable. a letter to his sister margaret, written soon after his arrival, shows a delightful relation between them and warm affection on his part. it tells in a felicitous manner of the place, the people, and his experiences. he had been to a camp-meeting and was struck with the quaint, old-fashioned garb of the girls, seeming to make the ugly ones uglier and the pretty ones prettier. it was raining when he wrote and he felt depressed, but he sent his love in the form of a charming bit of verse wherein a tear was borne with the flowing water to testify to his tender regard for his "peerless sister." this letter, too personal for publication, his sister lately read to me, and it was a revelation of the matchless style so early acquired. in form it seemed perfect--not a superfluous or an ill-chosen word. every sentence showed rhythm and balance, flowing easily and pleasantly from beginning to end, leaving an impression of beauty and harmony, and testifying to a kindly, gentle nature, with an admiring regard for his seventeen-year-old sister. from alamo he seems to have gone directly to tuolumne county, and it must have been late in 1856. his delightful sketch "how i went to the mines" is surely autobiographical. he says: "i had been two years in california before i ever thought of going to the mines, and my initiation into the vocation of gold-digging was partly compulsory." he refers to "the little pioneer settlement school, of which i was the somewhat youthful, and, i fear, not over-competent master." what he did after the school-teaching episode he does not record. he was a stage messenger at one time. how long he remained in and around the mines is not definitely known, but it seems clear that in less than a year of experience and observation he absorbed the life and local color so thoroughly that he was able to use it with almost undiminished freshness for forty years. it was early in 1857 that bret harte came to humboldt county to visit his sister margaret, and for a brief time and to a limited extent our lives touched. he was twenty-one and i was sixteen, so there was little intimacy, but he interested and attracted me as a new type of manhood. he bore the marks of good breeding, education, and refinement. he was quiet of manner, kindly but not demonstrative, with a certain reserve and aloofness. he was of medium height, rather slight of figure, with strongly marked features and an aquiline nose. he seemed clever rather than forcible, and presented a pathetic figure as of one who had gained no foothold on success. he had a very pleasant voice and a modest manner, and never talked of himself. he was always the gentleman, exemplary as to habits, courteous and good-natured, but a trifle aristocratic in bearing. he was dressed in good taste, but was evidently in need of income. he was willing to do anything, but with little ability to help himself. he was simply untrained for doing anything that needed doing in that community. he found occasional work in the drugstore, and for a time he had a small private school. his surviving pupils speak warmly of his sympathy and kindness. he had little mechanical ability. i recall seeing him try to build a fence one morning. he bravely dug postholes, but they were pretty poor, and the completed fence was not so very straight. he was genial and uncomplaining, and he made a few good friends. he was an agreeable guest, and at our house was fond of a game of whist. he was often facetious, with a neatness that was characteristic. one day, on a stroll, we passed a very primitive new house that was wholly destitute of all ornaments or trimming, even without eaves. it seemed modeled after a packing-box. "that," he remarked, "must be of the _iowan_ order of architecture." he was given to teasing, and could be a little malicious. a proud and ambitious schoolteacher had married a well-off but decidedly cockney englishman, whose aspirates could be relied upon to do the expected. soon after the wedding, harte called and cleverly steered the conversation on to music and songs, finally expressing great fondness for "kathleen mavourneen," but professing to have forgotten the words. the bridegroom swallowed the bait with avidity. "why," said he, "they begin with 'the 'orn of the 'unter is 'eard on the 'ill.'" f.b. stroked his dundrearies while his dark eyes twinkled. the bride's eyes flashed ominously, but there seemed to be nothing she felt like saying. in october, 1857, he removed to the liscom ranch in the suburbs at the head of the bay and became the tutor of two boys, fourteen and thirteen years of age. he had a forenoon session of school and in the afternoon enjoyed hunting on the adjacent marshes. for his convenience in keeping run of the lessons given, he kept a brief diary, and it has lately been found. it is of interest both in the little he records and from the significant omissions. it reveals a very simple life of a clever, kindly, clean young man who did his work, enjoyed his outdoor recreation, read a few good books, and generally "retired at 9 1/2 p.m." he records sending letters to various publications. on a certain day he wrote the first lines of "dolores." a few days later he finished it, and mailed it to the _knickerbocker_. he wrote and rewrote a story, "what happened at mendocino." what happened to the story does not appear. he went to church generally, and some of the sermons were good and others "vapid and trite." once in a while he goes to a dance, but not to his great satisfaction. he didn't dance particularly well. he tells of a christmas dinner that he helped his sister to prepare. something made him dissatisfied with himself and he bewails his melancholy and gloomy forebodings that unfit him for rational enjoyment and cause him to be a spectacle for "gods and men." he adds: "thermometer of my spirit on christmas day, 1857, 9 a.m., 40â°; temperature, 12 a.m., 60â°; 3 p.m., 80â°; 6 p.m., 20â° and falling rapidly; 9 p.m., at zero; 1 a.m., 20â° below." his entries were brief and practical. he did not write to express his feelings. at the close of 1857 he indulged in a brief retrospect, and an emphatic statement of his determination for the future. after referring to the fact that he was a tutor at a salary of twenty-five dollars a month and board, and that a year before he was unemployed, at the close he writes: "in these three hundred and sixty-five days i have again put forth a feeble essay toward fame and perhaps fortune. i have tried literature, albeit in a humble way. i have written some passable prose and it has been successfully published. the conviction is forced on me by observation, and not by vain enthusiasm, that i am fit for nothing else. perhaps i may succeed; if not, i can at least make the trial. therefore i consecrate this year, or as much as god may grant for my services, to honest, heartfelt, sincere labor and devotion to this occupation. god help me! may i succeed!" harte profited by his experience in tutoring my two boy friends, gaining local color quite unlike that of the sierra foothills. humboldt is also on the grand scale and its physical characteristics and its type of manhood were fresh and inspiring. his familiarity with the marsh and the sloughs is shown in "the man on the beach" and the "dedlow marsh stories," and this affords fine opportunity for judging of the part played by knowledge and by imagination in his literary work. his descriptions are photographic in their accuracy. the flight of a flock of sandpipers, the flowing tides, the white line of the bar at the mouth of the bay--all are exact. but the locations and relations irrelevant to the story are wholly ignored. the characters and happenings are purely imaginary. he is the artist using his experiences and his fancy as his colors, and the minimum of experience and small observation suffice. his perception of character is marvelous. he pictures the colonel, his daughters, the spruce lieutenant, and the irish deserter with such familiarity that the reader would think that he had spent most of his life in a garrison, and his ability to portray vividly life in the mines, where his actual experience was so very slight, is far better understood. many of the occurrences of those far-away days have faded from my mind, but one of them, of considerable significance to two lives, is quite clear. uniontown had been the county-seat, and there the _humboldt times_ was published; but eureka, across the bay, had outgrown her older sister and captured both the county-seat and the only paper in the county. in frantic effort to sustain her failing prestige uniontown projected a rival paper and the _northern californian_ was spoken into being. my father was a half owner, and i coveted the humble position of printer's devil. one journeyman could set the type, and on wednesday and saturday, respectively, run off on a hand-press the outside and the inside of the paper, but a boy or a low-priced man was needed to roll the forms and likewise to distribute the type. i looked upon it as the first rung on the ladder of journalism, and i was about to put my foot thereon when the pathetic figure of bret harte presented itself applying for the job, causing me to put my foot on my hopes instead. he seemed to want it and need it so much more than i did that i turned my hand to other pursuits, while he mounted the ladder with cheerful alacrity and skipped up several rungs, very promptly learning to set type and becoming a very acceptable assistant editor. in a community where popular heroes are apt to be loud and aggressive, the quiet man who thinks more than he talks is adjudged effeminate. harte was always modest, and boasting was foreign to his nature; so he was thought devoid of spirit and strength. but occasion brought out the unsuspected. there had been a long and trying indian war in and around humboldt. the feeling against the red men was very bitter. it culminated in a wanton and cowardly attack on a tribe of peaceful indians encamped on an island opposite eureka, and men, women, and children were ruthlessly killed. harte was temporarily in charge of the paper and he denounced the outrage in unmeasured terms. the better part of the community sustained him, but a violent minority resented his strictures and he was seriously threatened and in no little danger. happily he escaped, but the incident resulted in his return to san francisco. the massacre occurred on february 5, 1860, which fixes the approximate time of harte's becoming identified with san francisco. his experience was of great advantage to him in that he had learned to do something for which there was a demand. he could not earn much as a compositor, but his wants were simple and he could earn something. he soon secured a place on the _golden era_, and it became the doorway to his career. he was soon transferred to the editorial department and contributed freely. for four years he continued on the _golden era_. these were years of growth and increasing accomplishment. he did good work and made good friends. among those whose interest he awakened were mrs. jessie benton frã©mont and thomas starr king. both befriended and encouraged him. in the critical days when california hung in the balance between the north and the south, and starr king, by his eloquence, fervor, and magnetism, seemed to turn the scale, bret harte did his part in support of the friend he loved. lincoln had called for a hundred thousand volunteers, and at a mass meeting harte contributed a noble poem, "the reveille," which thrillingly read by starr king brought the mighty audience to its feet with cheers for the union. he wrote many virile patriotic poems at this period. in march, 1864, starr king, of the glowing heart and golden tongue, preacher, patriot, and hero, fell at his post, and san francisco mourned him and honored him as seldom falls to the lot of man. at his funeral the federal authorities ordered the firing of a salute from the forts in the harbor, an honor, so far as i know, never before accorded a private citizen. bret harte wrote a poem of rare beauty in expression of his profound grief and his heartfelt appreciation: relieving guard. came the relief. "what, sentry, ho! how passed the night through thy long waking?" "cold, cheerless, dark--as may befit the hour before the dawn is breaking." "no sight? no sound?" "no; nothing save the plover from the marshes calling, and in yon western sky, about an hour ago, a star was falling." "a star? there's nothing strange in that." "no, nothing; but, above the thicket, somehow it seemed to me that god somewhere had just relieved a picket." this is not only good poetry; it reveals deep and fine feeling. [illustration: francis bret harte] through starr king's interest, his parishioner robert b. swain, superintendent of the mint, had early in 1864 appointed harte as his private secretary, at a salary of two hundred dollars a month, with duties that allowed considerable leisure. this was especially convenient, as a year or so before he had married, and additional income was indispensable. in may, 1864, harte left the _golden era_, joining charles henry webb and others in a new literary venture, the _californian_. it was a brilliant weekly. among the contributors were mark twain, charles warren stoddard, and prentice mulford. harte continued his delightful "condensed novels" and contributed poems, stories, sketches, and book reviews. "the society on the stanislaus," "john brown of gettysburg," and "the pliocene skull" belong to this period. in the "condensed novels" harte surpassed all parodists. with clever burlesque, there was both appreciation and subtle criticism. as chesterton says, "bret harte's humor was sympathetic and analytical. the wild, sky-breaking humor of america has its fine qualities, but it must in the nature of things be deficient in two qualities--reverence and sympathy--and these two qualities were knit into the closest texture of bret harte's humor." at this time harte lived a quiet domestic life. he wrote steadily. he loved to write, but he was also obliged to. literature is not an overgenerous paymaster, and with a growing family expenses tend to increase in a larger ratio than income. harte's sketches based on early experiences are interesting and amusing. his life in oakland was in many ways pleasant, but he evidently retained some memories that made him enjoy indulging in a sly dig many years after. he gives the pretended result of scientific investigation made in the far-off future as to the great earthquake that totally engulfed san francisco. the escape of oakland seemed inexplicable, but a celebrated german geologist ventured to explain the phenomenon by suggesting that "there are some things that the earth cannot swallow." my last recollection of harte, of a purely personal nature, was of an occurrence in 1866, when he was dramatic critic of the _morning call_ at the time i was doing a little reporting on the same paper. it happened that a benefit was arranged for some charity. "nan, the good-for-nothing," was to be given by a number of amateurs. the _nan_ asked me to play _tom_, and i had insufficient firmness to decline. after the play, when my face was reasonably clean, i dropped into the _call_ office, yearning for a word of commendation from harte. i thought he knew that i had taken the part, but he would not give me the satisfaction of referring to it. finally i mentioned, casually like, that i was _tom_, whereat he feigned surprise, and remarked in his pleasant voice, "was that you? i thought they had sent to some theater and hired a supe." in july, 1868, a. roman & co. launched the _overland monthly_, with harte as editor. he took up the work with eager interest. he named the child, planned its every feature, and chose his contributors. it was a handsome publication, modeled, in a way, on the _atlantic monthly,_ but with a flavor and a character all its own. the first number was attractive and readable, with articles of varied interest by mark twain, noah brooks, charles warren stoddard, william c. bartlett, t.h. rearden, ina coolbrith, and others--a brilliant galaxy for any period. harte contributed "san francisco from the sea." mark twain, long after, alluding to this period in his life, pays this characteristic acknowledgment: "bret harte trimmed and trained and schooled me patiently until he changed me from an awkward utterer of coarse grotesqueness to a writer of paragraphs and chapters that have found favor in the eyes of even some of the decentest people in the land." the first issue of the _overland_ was well received, but the second sounded a note heard round the world. the editor contributed a story--"the luck of roaring camp"--that was hailed as a new venture in literature. it was so revolutionary that it shocked an estimable proofreader, and she sounded the alarm. the publishers were timid, but the gentle editor was firm. when it was found that it must go in or he would go out, it went--and he stayed. when the conservative and dignified _atlantic_ wrote to the author soliciting something like it, the publishers were reassured. harte had struck ore. up to this time he had been prospecting. he had early found color and followed promising stringers. he had opened some fair pockets, but with the explosion of this blast he had laid bare the true vein, and the ore assayed well. it was high grade, and the fissure was broad. "the luck of roaring camp" was the first of a series of stories depicting the picturesque life of the early days which made california known the world over and gave it a romantic interest enjoyed by no other community. they were fresh and virile, original in treatment, with real men and women using a new vocabulary, with humor and pathos delightfully blended. they moved on a stage beautifully set, with a background of heroic grandeur. no wonder that california and bret harte became familiar household words. when one reflects on the fact that the exposure to the life depicted had occurred more than ten years before, from very brief experience, the wonder is incomprehensibly great. nothing less than genius can account for such a result. "tennessee's partner," "m'liss," "the outcasts of poker flat," and dozens more of these stories that became classics followed. the supply seemed exhaustless, and fresh welcome awaited every one. it was in september, 1870, that harte in the make-up of the _overland_ found an awkward space too much for an ordinary poem. an associate suggested that he write something to fit the gap; but harte was not given to dashing off to order, nor to writing a given number of inches of poetry. he was not a literary mechanic, nor could he command his moods. however, he handed his friend a bundle of manuscript to see if there was anything that he thought would do, and very soon a neat draft was found bearing the title "on the sinfulness of ah sin as reported by truthful james." it was read with avidity and pronounced "the very thing." harte demurred. he didn't think very well of it. he was generally modest about his work and never quite satisfied. but he finally accepted the judgment of his friend and consented to run it. he changed the title to "later words from truthful james," but when the proof came substituted "plain language from truthful james." he made a number of other changes, as was his wont, for he was always painstaking and given to critical polishing. in some instances he changed an entire line or a phrase of two lines. the copy read: "till at last he led off the right bower, that nye had just hid on his knee." as changed on the proof it read: "till at last he put down a right bower, which the same nye had dealt unto me." it was a happy second thought that suggested the most quoted line in this famous poem. the fifth line of the seventh verse originally read: "or is civilization a failure?" on the margin of the proof-sheet he substituted the ringing line: "we are ruined by chinese cheap labor," --an immense improvement--the verse reading: "then i looked up at nye, and he gazed unto me, and he rose with a sigh, and said, 'can this be? we are ruined by chinese cheap labor!' and he went for that heathen chinee." the corrected proof, one of the treasures of the university of california, with which harte was for a time nominally connected, bears convincing testimony to the painstaking methods by which he sought the highest degree of literary perfection. this poem was not intended as a serious addition to contemporary verse. harte disclaimed any purpose whatever; but there seems just a touch of political satire. "the chinese must go" was becoming the popular political slogan, and he always enjoyed rowing against the tide. the poem greatly extended his name and fame. it was reprinted in _punch_, it was liberally quoted on the floors of congress, and it "caught on" everywhere. perhaps it is today the one thing by which harte is best known. one of the most amusing typographical errors on record occurred in the printing of this poem. in explanation of the manner of the duplicity of _ah sin, truthful james_ was made to say: "in his sleeves, which were long, he had twenty-one packs:" and that was the accepted reading for many years, in spite of the physical impossibility of concealing six hundred and ninety-three cards and one arm in even a chinaman's sleeve. the game they played was euchre, where bowers are supreme, and what harte wrote was "jacks," not "packs." probably the same pious proofreader who was shocked at the "luck" did not know the game, and, as the rhyme was perfect, let it slip. later editions corrected the error, though it is still often seen. harte gave nearly three years to the _overland_. his success had naturally brought him flattering offers, and the temptation to realize on his reputation seems to have been more than he could withstand. the _overland_ had become a valuable property, eventually passing into control of another publisher. the new owners were unable or unwilling to pay what he thought he must earn, and somewhat reluctantly he resigned the editorship and left the state of his adoption. harte, with his family, left san francisco in february, 1871. they went first to chicago, where he confidently expected to be editor of a magazine to be called the _lakeside monthly_. he was invited to a dinner given by the projectors of the enterprise, at which a large-sized check was said to have been concealed beneath his plate; but for some unexplained reason he failed to attend the dinner and the magazine was given up. those who know the facts acquit him of all blame in the matter; but, in any event, his hopes were dashed, and he proceeded to the east disappointed and unsettled. soon after arriving at new york he visited boston, dining with the saturday club and visiting howells, then editor of the _atlantic_, at cambridge. he spent a pleasant week, meeting lowell, longfellow, and emerson. mrs. aldrich, in "crowding memories," gives a vivid picture of his charm and high spirits at this meeting of friends and celebrities. the boston atmosphere as a whole was not altogether delightful. he seemed constrained, but he did a fine stroke of business. james r. osgood & co. offered him ten thousand dollars for whatever he might write in a year, and he accepted the handsome retainer. it did not stimulate him to remarkable output. he wrote four stories, including "how santa claus came to simpson's bar," and five poems, including "concepcion de arguello." the offer was not renewed the following year. for seven years new york city was generally his winter home. some of his summers were spent in newport, and some in new jersey. in the former he wrote "a newport romance" and in the latter "thankful blossom." one summer he spent at cohasset, where he met lawrence barrett and stuart robson, writing "two men of sandy bar," produced in 1876. "sue," his most successful play, was produced in new york and in london in 1896. to earn money sorely needed he took the distasteful lecture field. his two subjects were "the argonauts" and "american humor." his letters to his wife at this time tell the pathetic tale of a sensitive, troubled soul struggling to earn money to pay debts. he writes with brave humor, but the work was uncongenial and the returns disappointing. from ottawa he writes: "do not let this worry you, but kiss the children for me, and hope for the best. i should send you some money, but there _isn't any to send_, and maybe i shall only bring back myself." the next day he added a postscript: "dear nan--i did not send this yesterday, waiting to find the results of last night's lecture. it was a fair house, and this morning--paid me $150, of which i send you the greater part." a few days later he wrote from lawrence, the morning after an unexpectedly good audience: "i made a hundred dollars by the lecture, and it is yours for yourself, nan, to buy minxes with, if you want to." from washington he writes: "thank you, dear nan, for your kind, hopeful letter. i have been very sick, very much disappointed; but i am better now and am only waiting for money to return. can you wonder that i have kept this from you? you have so hard a time of it there, that i cannot bear to have you worried if there is the least hope of a change in my affairs. god bless you and keep you and the children safe, for the sake of frank." no one can read these letters without feeling that they mirror the real man, refined of feeling, kindly and humorous, but not strong of courage, oppressed by obligations, and burdened by doubts of how he was to care for those he loved. with all his talent he could not command independence, and the lot of the man who earns less than it costs to live is hard to bear. harte had the faculty of making friends, even if by neglect he sometimes lost them, and they came to his rescue in this trying time. charles a. dana and others secured for him an appointment by president hayes as commercial agent at crefeld, prussia. in june, 1878, he sailed for england, leaving his family at sea cliff, long island, little supposing that he would never see them or america again. on the day he reached crefeld he wrote his wife in a homesick and almost despondent strain: "i am to all appearance utterly friendless; i have not received the first act of kindness or courtesy from anyone. i think things must be better soon. i shall, please god, make some good friends in good time, and will try and be patient. but i shall not think of sending for you until i see clearly that i can stay myself. if worst comes to worst i shall try to stand it for a year, and save enough to come home and begin anew there. but i could not stand it to see you break your heart here through disappointment as i mayhap may do." here is the artistic, impressionable temperament, easily disheartened, with little self-reliant courage or grit. but he seems to have felt a little ashamed of his plaint, for at midnight of the same day he wrote a second letter, half apologetic and much more hopeful, just because one or two people had been a little kind and he had been taken out to a _fest_. soon after, he wrote a letter to his younger son, then a small boy. it told of a pleasant drive to the rhine, a few miles away. he concludes: "it was all very wonderful, but papa thought after all he was glad his boys live in a country that is as yet _pure_ and _sweet_ and _good_--not in one where every field seems to cry out with the remembrance of bloodshed and wrong, and where so many people have lived and suffered that tonight, under this clear moon, their very ghosts seemed to throng the road and dispute our right of way. be thankful, my dear boy, that you are an american. papa was never so fond of his country before as in this land that has been so great, powerful, and so very hard and wicked." in may, 1880, he was made consul at glasgow, a position that he filled for five years. during this period he spent a considerable part of his time in london and in visiting at country homes. he lectured and wrote and made many friends, among the most valued of whom were william black and walter besant. a new administration came in with 1885 and harte was superseded. he went to london and settled down to a simple and regular life. for ten years he lived with the van de veldes, friends of long standing. he wrote with regularity and published several volumes of stories and sketches. in 1885 harte visited switzerland. of the alps he wrote: "in spite of their pictorial composition i wouldn't give a mile of the dear old sierras, with their honesty, sincerity, and magnificent uncouthness, for a hundred thousand kilometers of the picturesque vaud." of geneva he wrote: "i thought i should not like it, fancying it a kind of continental boston, and that the shadow of john calvin and the old reformers, or still worse the sentimental idiocy of rousseau and the de staels, still lingered." but he did like it, and wrote brilliantly of lake leman and mont blanc. returning to his home in aldershot he resumed work, giving some time to a libretto for a musical comedy, but his health was failing and he accomplished little. a surgical operation for cancer of the throat in march, 1902, afforded a little relief, but he worked with difficulty. on april 17th he began a new story, "a friend of colonel starbottle." he wrote one sentence and began another; but the second sentence was his last work, though a few letters to friends bear a later date. on may 5th, sitting at his desk, there came a hemorrhage of the throat, followed later in the day by a second, which left him unconscious. before the end of the day he peacefully breathed his last. pathetic and inexplicable were the closing days of this gifted man. an exile from his native land, unattended by family or kin, sustaining his lonely life by wringing the dregs of memory, and clasping in farewell the hands of a fancied friend of his dear old reprobate colonel, he, like kentuck, "drifted away into the shadowy river that flows forever to the unknown sea." in his more than forty years of authorship he was both industrious and prolific. in the nineteen volumes of his published work there must be more than two hundred titles of stories and sketches, and many of them are little known. some of them are disappointing in comparison with his earlier and perhaps best work, but many of them are charming and all are in his delightful style, with its undertone of humor that becomes dominant at unexpected intervals. his literary form was distinctive, with a manner not derived from the schools or copied from any of his predecessors, but developed from his own personality. he seems to have founded a modern school, with a lightness of touch and a felicity of expression unparalleled. he was vividly imaginative, and also had the faculty of giving dramatic form and consistency to an incident or story told by another. he was a story-teller, equally dexterous in prose or verse. his taste was unerring and he sought for perfect form. his atmosphere was breezy and healthful--out of doors with the fragrance of the pine-clad sierras. he was never morbid and introspective. his characters are virile and natural men and women who act from simple motives, who live and love, or hate and fight, without regard to problems and with small concern for conventionalities. harte had sentiment, but was realistic and fearless. he felt under no obligation to make all gamblers villains or all preachers heroes. he dealt with human nature in the large and he made it real. his greatest achievement was in faithfully mirroring the life of a new and striking epoch. he seems to have discovered that it was picturesque and to have been almost alone in impressing this fact on the world. he sketched pictures of pioneer life as he saw or imagined it with matchless beauty and compelled the interest and enjoyment of all mankind. his chief medium was the short story, to which he gave a new vogue. translated into many tongues, his tales became the source of knowledge to a large part of the people of europe as to california and the pacific. he associated the far west with romance, and we have never fully outlived it. that he was gifted as a poet no one can deny. perhaps his most striking use of his power as a versifier was in connection with the romantic spanish background of california history. such work as "concepcion de arguello" is well worth while. in his "spanish idylls and legends" he catches the fine spirit of the period and connects california with a past of charm and beauty. his patriotic verse has both strength and loveliness and reflects a depth of feeling that his lighter work does not lead us to expect. in his dialect verse he revels in fun and shows himself a genuine and cleanly humorist. if we search for the source of his great power we may not expect to find it; yet we may decide that among his endowments his extraordinary power of absorption contributes very largely. his early reference to "eager absorption" and "photographic sensitiveness" are singularly significant expressions. experience teaches the plodder, but the man of genius, supremely typified by shakespeare, needs not to acquire knowledge slowly and painfully. sympathy, imagination, and insight reveal truth, and as a plate, sensitized, holds indefinitely the records of the exposure, so harte, forty years after in london, holds in consciousness the impressions of the days he spent in tuolumne county. it is a great gift, a manifestation of genius. he had a fine background of inheritance and a lifetime of good training. bret harte was also gifted with an agreeable personality. he was even-tempered and good-natured. he was an ideal guest and enjoyed his friends. whatever his shortcomings and whatever his personal responsibility for them, he deserves to be treated with the consideration and generosity he extended to others. he was never censorious, and instances of his magnanimity are many. severity of judgment is a custom that few of us can afford, and to be generous is never a mistake. harte was extremely sensitive, and he deplored controversy. he was quite capable of suffering in silence if defense of self might reflect on others. his deficiencies were trivial but damaging, and their heavy retribution he bore with dignity, retaining the respect of those who knew him. as to what he was, as man and author, he is entitled to be judged by a jury of his peers. i could quote at length from a long list of associates of high repute, but they all concur fully with the comprehensive judgment of ina coolbrith, who knew him intimately. she says, "i can only speak of him in terms of unqualified praise as author, friend, and man." in the general introduction that harte wrote for the first volume of his collected stories he refers to the charge that he "confused recognized standards of morality by extenuating lives of recklessness and often criminality with a single solitary virtue" as "the cant of too much mercy." he then adds: "without claiming to be a religious man or a moralist, but simply as an artist, he shall reverently and humbly conform to the rules laid down by a great poet who created the parables of the prodigal son and the good samaritan, whose works have lasted eighteen hundred years, and will remain when the present writer and his generations are forgotten. and he is conscious of uttering no original doctrine in this, but only of voicing the beliefs of a few of his literary brethren happily living, and one gloriously dead, [footnote: evidently dickens.] who never made proclamation of this from the housetops." bret harte had a very unusual combination of sympathetic insight, emotional feeling, and keen sense of the dramatic. in the expression of the result of these powers he commanded a literary style individually developed, expressive of a rare personality. he was vividly imaginative, and he had exacting ideals of precision in expression. his taste was unerring. the depth and power of the great soul were not his. he was the artist, not the prophet. he was a delightful painter of the life he saw, an interpreter of the romance of his day, a keen but merciful satirist, a humorist without reproach, a patriot, a critic, and a kindly, modest gentleman. he was versatile, doing many things exceedingly well, and some things supremely well. he discerned the significance of the remarkable social conditions of early days in california and developed a marvelous power of presenting them in vivid and attractive form. his humor is unsurpassed. it is pervasive, like the perfume of the rose, never offending by violence. his style is a constant surprise and a never-ending delight. his spirit is kindly and generous. he finds good in unsuspected places, and he leaves hope for all mankind. he was sensitive, peace-loving, and indignant at wrong, a scorner of pretense, independent in thought, just in judgment. he surmounted many difficulties, bore suffering without complaint, and left with those who really knew him a pleasant memory. it would seem that he was a greater artist and a better man than is commonly conceded. in failing to honor him california suffers. he should be cherished as her early interpreter, if not as her spirit's discoverer, and ranked high among those who have contributed to her fame. he is the representative literary figure of the state. in her imaginary temple of fame or hall of heroes he deserves a prominent, if not the foremost, niche. as the generations move forward he must not be forgotten. bret harte at our hands needs not to be idealized, but he does deserve to be justly, gratefully, and fittingly realized. chapter v san francisco--the sixties we are familiar with the romantic birth of san francisco and its precocious childhood; we are well acquainted with its picturesque background of spanish history and the glorious days of '49; but i doubt if we are as well informed as to the significant and perhaps equally important second decade. it was my fortune to catch a hurried glance of san francisco in 1855, when the population was about forty-five thousand. i was then on the way from new england to my father's home in humboldt county. i next saw it in 1861 while on my way to and from attendance at the state fair. in 1864 i took up my residence in the city and it has since been continuous. that the almost neglected sixties may have some setting, let me briefly trace the beginnings. things moved slowly when america was discovered. columbus found the mainland in 1503. ten years later balboa reached the pacific, and, wading into the ocean, modestly claimed for his sovereign all that bordered its shores. thirty years thereafter the point farthest west was named mendocino, for mendoza, the viceroy ordering the expedition of cabrillo and ferrelos. thirty-seven years later came drake, and almost found san francisco bay. but all these discoveries led to no occupation. it seems incredible that two hundred and twenty-six years elapsed from cabrillo's visit to the day the first settlers landed in san diego, founding the first of the famous missions. historically, 1769 is surely marked. in this year napoleon and wellington were born and civilized california was founded. san francisco bay was discovered by a land party. it was august 6, 1775, seven weeks after the battle of bunker hill, that ayala cautiously found his way into the bay and anchored the "san carlos" off sausalito. five days before the declaration of independence was signed moraga and his men, the first colonists, arrived in san francisco and began getting out the timber to build the fort at the presidio and the church at mission dolores. vancouver, in 1792, poking into an unknown harbor, found a good landing-place at a cove around the first point he rounded at his right. the spaniards called it yerba buena, after the fragrant running vine that abounded in the lee of the sandhills which filled the present site of market street, especially at a point now occupied by the building of the mechanics-mercantile library. there was no human habitation in sight, nor was there to be for forty years, but friendly welcome came on the trails that led to the presidio and the mission. an occasional whaler or a trader in hides and tallow came and went, but foreigners were not encouraged to settle. it was in 1814 that the first "gringo" came. in 1820 there were thirteen in all california, three of whom were americans. in 1835 william a. richardson was the first foreign resident of yerba buena. he was allowed to lay out a street and build a structure of boards and ship's sails in the calle de fundacion, which generally followed the lines of the present grant avenue. the spot approximates number 811 of the avenue today. when dana came in 1835 it was the only house visible. the following year jacob p. leese built a complete house, and it was dedicated by a celebration and ball on the fourth of july in which the whole community participated. the settlement grew slowly. in 1840 there were sixteen foreigners. in 1844 there were a dozen houses and fifty people. in 1845 there were but five thousand people in all the state. the missions had been disbanded and the presidio was manned by one gray-haired soldier. the mexican war brought renewed life. on july 9, 1846, commodore sloat sent captain montgomery with the frigate "portsmouth," and the american flag was raised on the staff in the plaza of 1835, since called portsmouth square. thus began the era of american occupation. lieutenant bartlett was made alcalde, with large powers, in pursuance of which, on february 27, 1847, he issued a simple order that the town thereafter be known as san francisco,--and its history as such began. the next year gold was discovered. a sleepy, romantic, shiftless but picturesque community became wide-awake, energetic, and aggressive. san francisco leaped into prominence. every nation on earth sent its most ambitious and enterprising as well as its most restless and irresponsible citizens. in the last nine months of 1849, seven hundred shiploads were landed in a houseless town. they largely left for the mines, but more remained than could be housed. they lived on and around hulks run ashore and thousands found shelter in happy valley tents. a population of two thousand at the beginning of the year was twenty thousand at the end. it was a gold-crazed community. everything consumed was imported. gold dust was the only export. from 1849 to 1860, gold amounting to over six hundred million dollars was produced. the maximum--eighty-one millions--was reached in 1852. the following year showed a decline of fourteen millions, and 1855 saw a further decline of twelve millions. alarm was felt. at the same ratio of decline, in less than four years production would cease. it was plainly evident, if the state were to exist and grow, that other resources must be developed. in the first decade there were periods of great depression. bank and commercial failures were very frequent occurrences in 1854. the state was virtually only six years old--but what wonderful years they had been! in the splendor of achievement and the glamour of the golden fleece we lose sight of the fact that the community was so small. in the whole state there were not more than 350,000 people, of whom a seventh lived in san francisco. there were indications that the tide of immigration had reached its height. in 1854 arrivals had exceeded departures by twenty-four thousand. in 1855 the excess dropped to six thousand. my first view of san francisco left a vivid impression of a city in every way different from any i had ever seen. the streets were planked, the buildings were heterogeneous--some of brick or stone, others little more than shacks. portsmouth square was the general center of interest, facing the city hall and the post office. clay street hill was higher then than now. i know it because i climbed to its top to call on a boy who came on the steamer and lived there. there was but little settlement to the west of the summit. the leading hotel was the international, lately opened, on jackson street below montgomery. it was considered central in location, being convenient to the steamer landings, the custom house, and the wholesale trade. probably but one building of that period has survived. at the corner of montgomery and california streets stood parrott's granite block, the stone for which was cut in china and assembled in 1852 by chinese workmen imported for the purpose. it harbored the bank of page, bacon & co., and has been continuously occupied, surviving an explosion of nitroglycerine in 1866 (when wells, fargo & co. were its tenants) as well as the fire of 1906. wilson's exchange was in sansome street near sacramento. the american theater was opposite. where the bank of california stands there was a seed store. on the northeast corner of california and sansome streets was bradshaw's zinc grocery store. the growth of the city southward had already begun. the effort to develop north beach commercially had failed. meiggs' wharf was little used; the cobweb saloon, near its shore end, was symbolic. telegraph hill and its semaphore and time-ball were features of business life. it was well worth climbing for the view, which bayard taylor pronounced the finest in the world. at this time san francisco monopolized the commerce of the coast. everything that entered california came through the golden gate, and it nearly all went up the sacramento river. it was distinctly the age of gold. other resources were not considered. this all seemed a very insecure basis for a permanent state. that social and political conditions were threatening may be inferred when we recall that 1856 brought the vigilance committee. in 1857 came the fraser river stampede. twenty-three thousand people are said to have left the city, and real-estate values suffered severely. in 1860 the pony express was established, bringing "the states," as the east was generally designated, considerably nearer. it took but ten and a half days to st. louis, and thirteen to new york, with postage five dollars an ounce. steamers left on the first and fifteenth of the month, and the twenty-eighth and fourteenth were religiously observed as days for collection. no solvent man of honor failed to settle his account on "steamer day." the election of lincoln, followed by the threat of war, was disquieting, and the large southern element was out of sympathy with anything like coercion. but patriotism triumphed. early in 1861 a mass meeting was held at the corner of montgomery and market streets, and san francisco pledged her loyalty. in november, 1861, i attended the state fair at sacramento as correspondent for the _humboldt times_. about the only impression of san francisco on my arrival was the disgust i felt for the proprietor of the hotel at which i stopped, when, in reply to my eager inquiry for war news, he was only able to say that he believed there had been some fighting somewhere in virginia. this to one starving for information after a week's abstinence was tantalizing. after a week of absorbing interest, in a fair that seemed enormously important and impressive, i timed my return so as to spend sunday in san francisco, and it was made memorable by attending, morning and evening, the unitarian church, then in stockton near sacramento, and hearing starr king. he had come from boston the year before, proposing to fill the pulpit for a year, and from the first aroused great enthusiasm. i found the church crowded and was naturally consigned to a back seat, which i shared with a sewing-machine, for it was war-time and the women were very active in relief work. the gifted preacher was thirty-seven years old, but seemed younger. he was of medium height, had a kindly face with a generous mouth, a full forehead, and dark, glowing eyes. in june, 1864, i became a resident of san francisco, rejoining the family and becoming a clerk in the office of the superintendent of indian affairs. the city was about one-fifth its present size, claiming a population of 110,000. i want to give an idea of san francisco's character and life at that time, and of general conditions in the second decade. it is not easy to do, and demands the reader's help and sympathy. let him imagine, if he will, that he is visiting san francisco for the first time, and that he is a personal friend of the writer, who takes a day off to show him the city. in 1864 one could arrive here only by steamer; there were no railways. i meet my friend at the gangplank of the steamer on the wharf at the foot of broadway. to reach the car on east street (now the embarcadero), we very likely skirt gaping holes in the planked wharf, exposing the dark water lapping the supporting piles, and are assailed by bilge-like odors that escape. two dejected horses await us. entering the car we find two lengthwise seats upholstered in red plush. if it be winter, the floor is liberally covered by straw, to mitigate the mud. if it be summer, the trade winds are liberally charged with fine sand and infinitesimal splinters from the planks which are utilized for both streets and sidewalks. we rattle along east and intersecting streets until we reach sansome, upon which we proceed to bush, which practically bounds the business district on the south, thence we meander by a circuitous route to laurel hill cemetery near lone mountain. a guide is almost necessary. an incoming stranger once asked the conductor to let him off at the american exchange, which the car passed. he was surprised at the distance to his destination. at the cemetery end of the line he discovered that the conductor had forgotten him, but was assured that he would stop at the hotel on the way back. the next thing he knew he reached the wharf; the conductor had again forgotten him. his confidence exhausted, he insisted on walking, following the track until he reached the hotel. in the present instance we alight from the car when it reaches montgomery street, at the occidental hotel, new and attractive, well managed by a new yorker named leland and especially patronized by army people. we rest briefly and start out for a preliminary survey. three blocks to the south we reach market street and gaze upon the outer edge of the bustling city. across the magnificently wide but rude and unfinished street, at the immediate right, where the palace hotel is to stand, we see st. patrick's church and an orphan asylum. a little beyond, at the corner of third street, is a huge hill of sand covering the present site of the glaus spreckels building, upon which a steam-paddy is at work loading flat steam cars that run mission-ward. the lot now occupied by the emporium is the site of a large catholic school. at our left, stretching to the bay are coal-yards, foundries, planing-mills, box-factories, and the like. it will be years before business crosses market street. happy valley and pleasant valley, beyond, are well covered by inexpensive residences. the north beach and south park car line connects the fine residence district on and around rincon hill with the fine stretches of northern stockton street and the environs of telegraph hill. at the time i picture, no street-cars ran below montgomery, on market street; traffic did not warrant it. it was a boundary rather than a thoroughfare. it was destined to be one of the world's noted streets, but at this time the city's life pulsed through montgomery street, to which we will now return. turning from the apparent jumping-off place we cross to the "dollar side" and join the promenaders who pass in review or pause to gaze at the shop windows. montgomery street has been pre-eminent since the early days and is now at its height. for a long time clay street harbored the leading dry-goods stores, like the city of paris, but all are struggling for place in montgomery. here every business is represented--beach, roman, and bancroft, the leading booksellers; barrett & sherwood, tucker, and andrews, jewelers; donohoe, kelly & co., john sime, and hickox & spear, bankers; and numerous dealers in carpets, furniture, hats, french shoes, optical goods, etc. of course barry & patten's was not the only saloon. passing along we are almost sure to see some of the characters of the day--certainly emperor norton and freddie coombs (a reincarnated franklin), probably colonel stevenson, with his punch-like countenance, towering isaac friedlander, the poor rich michael reese, handsome hall mcallister, and aristocratic ogden hoffman. should the fire-bell ring we will see knickerbocker no. five in action, with chief scannell and "bummer" and "lazarus," and perhaps lillie hitchcock. when we reach washington street we cross to make a call at the bank exchange in the montgomery block, the largest structure on the street. the "exchange" is merely a popular saloon, but it boasts ten billiard tables and back of the bar hangs the famous picture of "samson and delilah." luncheon being in order we are embarrassed with riches. perhaps the mint restaurant is as good as the best and probably gives a sight of more prominent politicians than any other resort; but something quite characteristic is the daily gathering at jury's, a humble hole-in-the-wall in merchant street back of the _bulletin_ office. four lawyers who like one another, and like good living as well, have a special table. alexander campbell, milton andros, george sharp, and judge dwinelle will stop first in the clay street market, conveniently opposite, and select the duck, fish, or english mutton-chops for the day's menu. one of the number bears the choice to the kitchen and superintends its preparation while the others engage in shrimps and table-talk until it is served. if jury's is overflowing with custom, there are two other french restaurants alongside. after luncheon we have a glimpse of the business district, following back on the "two-bit" side of the street. at clay we pass a saloon with a cigar-stand in front and find a group listening to a man with bushy hair and a reddish mustache, who in an easy attitude and in a quaintly drawling voice is telling a story. we await the laugh and pass on, and i say that he is a reporter, lately from nevada, called mark twain. very likely we encounter at commercial street, on his way to the _call_ office, a well-dressed young man with dundreary whiskers and an aquiline nose. he nods to me and i introduce bret harte, secretary to the superintendent of the mint, and author of the clever "condensed novels" being printed in the _californian_. at california street we turn east, passing the shipping offices and hardware houses, and coming to battery street, where israelites wax fat in wholesale dry goods and the clothing business. for solid big business in groceries, liquors, and provisions we must keep on to front street--front by name only, for four streets on filled-in land have crept in front of front. following this very important street past the shipping offices we reach washington street, passing up which we come to battery street, where we pause to glance at the custom house and post office at the right and the recently established bank of california on the southwest corner of the two streets. having fairly surveyed the legitimate business we wish to see something of the engrossing avocation of most of the people of the city, of any business or no business, and we pass on to montgomery, crossing over to the center of the stock exchange activities. groups of men and women are watching the tapes in the brokers' offices, messengers are running in and out the board entrances, intense excitement is everywhere apparent. having gained admission to the gallery of the board room we look down on the frantic mob, buying and selling comstock shares. how much is really sold and how much is washing no one knows, but enormous transactions, big with fate, are of everyday occurrence. as we pass out we notice a man with strong face whose shoes show dire need of patching. asked his name, i answer, "jim keane; just now he is down, but some day he is bound to be way up." we saunter up clay, passing burr's savings bank and a few remaining stores, to kearny, and portsmouth square, whose glory is departing. the city hall faces it, and so does exempt engine house, but dentists' offices and cheap theaters and chinese stores are crowding in. clay street holds good boarding-houses, but decay is manifest. we pass on to stockton, still a favorite residence street; turning south we pass, near sacramento, the church in which starr king first preached, now proudly owned by the negro methodists. at post we reach union square, nearly covered by the wooden pavilion in which the mechanics' institute holds its fairs. diagonally opposite the southeast corner of the desecrated park are the buildings of the ambitious city college, and east of them a beautiful church edifice always spoken of as "starr king's church." very likely, seeing the church, i might be reminded of one of mr. king's most valued friends, and suggest that we call upon him at the golden gate flour-mill in pine street, where the california market was to stand. if we met horace davis, i should feel that i had presented one of our best citizens. dinner presents many opportunities; but i am inclined to think we shall settle on frank garcia's restaurant in montgomery near jackson, where good service awaits us, and we may hear the upraised voices of some of the big lawyers who frequent the place. for the evening we have the choice between several bands of minstrels, but if forrest and john mccullough are billed for "jack cade" we shall probably call on tom maguire. after the strenuous play we pass up washington street to peter job's and indulge in his incomparable ice-cream. on sunday i shall continue my guidance. churches are plentiful and preachers are good. in the afternoon i think i may venture to invite my friend to the willows, a public garden between mission and valencia and seventeenth and nineteenth streets. we shall hear excellent music in the open air and can sit at a small table and sip good beer. i find such indulgence far less wicked than i had been led to believe. when there is something distinctive in a community a visitor is supposed to take it in, and in the evening we attend the meeting of the dashaway association in its own hall in post street near dupont. it numbers five thousand members and meets sunday mornings and evenings. strict temperance is a live issue at this time. the sons of temperance maintain four divisions. there are besides two lodges of good templars and a san francisco temperance union. and in spite of all this the city feels called upon to support a home for inebriates at stockton and chestnut streets, to which the supervisors contribute two hundred and fifty dollars a month. i shall feel that i am derelict if i do not manage a jaunt to the cliff house. the most desirable method demands a span of horses for a spin out point lobos avenue. we may, however, be obliged to take a mcginn bus that leaves the plaza hourly. it will be all the same when we reach the cliff and gaze on ben butler and his companion sea-lions as they disport themselves in the ocean or climb the rocks. wind or fog may greet us, but the indifferent monsters roar, fight, and play, while the restless waves roll in. we must, also, make a special trip to rincon hill and south park to see how and where our magnates dwell. the 600 block in folsom street must not be neglected. the residences of such men as john parrott and milton s. latham are almost palatial. it is related that a visitor impressed with the elegance of one of these places asked a modest man in the neighborhood if he knew whose it was. "yes," he replied, "it belongs to an old fool by the name of john parrott, and i am he." we shall leave out something distinctive if we do not call at the what cheer house in sacramento street below montgomery, a hostelry for men, with moderate prices, notwithstanding many unusual privileges. it has a large reading-room and a library of five thousand volumes, besides a very respectable museum. guests are supplied with all facilities for blacking their own boots, and are made at home in every way. incidentally the proprietor made a good fortune, a large part of which he invested in turning his home at fourteenth and mission streets into a pleasure resort known as woodward's gardens, which for many years was our principal park, art gallery and museum. these are a few of the things i could have shown. but to know and appreciate the spirit and character of a city one must live in it and be of it; so i beg to be dismissed as a guide and to offer experiences and events that may throw some light on life in the stirring sixties. when i migrated from humboldt county and enlisted for life as a san franciscan i lived with my father's family in a small brick house in powell street near ellis. the golden west hotel now covers the lot. the little houses opposite were on a higher level and were surrounded by small gardens. both street and sidewalks were planked, but i remember that my brother and i, that we might escape the drifting sand, often walked on the flat board that capped the flimsy fence in front of a vacant lot. on the west of powell, at market, was st. ann's garden and nursery. on the east, where the flood building stands, was a stable and riding-school. much had been accomplished in city building, but the process was continuing. few of us realize the obstacles overcome. fifteen years before, the site was the rugged end of a narrow peninsula, with high rock hills, wastes of drifting sand, a curving cove of beach, bordered with swamps and estuaries, and here and there a few oases in the form of small valleys. in 1864 the general lines of the city were practically those of today. it was the present san francisco, laid out but not filled out. there was little west of larkin street and quite a gap between the city proper and the mission. size in a city greatly modifies character. in 1864 i found a compact community; whatever was going on seemed to interest all. we now have a multitude of unrelated circles; then there was one great circle including the sympathetic whole. the one theater that offered the legitimate drew and could accommodate all who cared for it. herold's orchestral concerts, a great singer like parepa rosa, or a violinist like ole bull drew all the music-lovers of the city. and likewise, in the early springtime when the unitarian picnic was announced at belmont or fairfax, it would be attended by at least a thousand, and heartily enjoyed by all, regardless of church connection. such things are no more, though the population to draw from be five times as large. in the sixties, church congregations and lecture audiences were much larger than they are now. there seemed always to be some one preacher or lecturer who was the vogue, practically monopolizing public interest. his name might be scudder or kittredge or moody, but while he lasted everybody rushed to hear him. and there was commonly some special fad that prevailed. spiritualism held the boards for quite a time. changes in real-estate values were a marked feature of the city's life. the laying out of broadway was significant of expectations. banks in the early days were north of pacific in montgomery, but very soon the drift to the south began. in 1862, when the unitarian church in stockton street near sacramento was found too small, it was determined to push well to the front of the city's growth. two lots were under final consideration, the northwest corner of geary and powell, where the st. francis now stands, and the lot in geary east of stockton, now covered by the whitney building. the first lot was a corner and well situated, but it was rejected on the ground that it was "too far out." the trustees paid $16,000 for the other lot and built the fine church that was occupied until 1887, when it was felt to be too far down town, and the present building at franklin and geary streets was erected. incidentally, the lot sold for $120,000. the evolution of pavements has been an interesting incident of the city's life. planks were cheap and they held down some of the sand, but they grew in disfavor. in 1864 the superintendent of streets reported that in the previous year 1,365,000 square feet of planks had been laid, and 290,000 square feet had been paved with cobbles, a lineal mile of which cost $80,000. how much suffering they cost the militia who marched on them is not reported. nicholson pavement was tried and found wanting. basalt blocks found brief favor. finally we reached the modern era and approximate perfection. checker-board street planning was a serious misfortune to the city, and it was aggravated by the narrowness of most of the streets. kearny street, forty-five and one-half feet wide, and dupont, forty-four and one-half feet, were absurd. in 1865 steps were taken to add thirty feet to the west side of kearny. in 1866 the work was done, and it proved a great success. the cost was five hundred and seventy-nine thousand dollars, and the addition to the value of the property was not less than four million dollars. when the work began the front-foot value at the northern end was double that at market street. today the value at market street is more than five times that at broadway. the first sunday after my arrival in san francisco i went to the unitarian church and heard the wonderfully attractive and satisfying dr. bellows, temporary supply. it was the beginning of a church connection that still continues and to which i owe more than i can express. dr. bellows had endeared himself to the community by his warm appreciation of their liberal support of the sanitary commission during the civil war. the interchange of messages between him in new york and starr king in san francisco had been stimulating and effective. when the work was concluded it was found that california had furnished one-fourth of the $4,800,000 expended. governor low headed the san francisco committee. the pacific coast, with a population of half a million, supplied one-third of all the money spent by this forerunner of the red cross. the other states of the union, with a population of about thirty-two million, supplied two-thirds. but california was far away and it was not thought wise to drain the west of its loyal forces, and we ought to have given freely of our money. in all, quite a number found their way to the fighting front. a friend of mine went to the wharf to see lieutenant sheridan, late of oregon, embark for the east and active service. sheridan was grimly in earnest, and remarked: "i'll come back a captain or i'll not come back at all." when he did come back it was with the rank of lieutenant-general. while san francisco was unquestionably loyal, there were not a few southern sympathizers, and loyalists were prepared for trouble. i soon discovered that a secret union league was active and vigilant. weekly meetings for drill were held in the pavilion in union square, admission being by password only. i promptly joined. the regimental commander was martin j. burke, chief of police. my company commander was george t. knox, a prominent notary public. i also joined the militia, choosing the state guard, captain dawes, which drilled weekly in the armory in market street opposite dupont. fellow members were horace davis and his brother george, charles w. wendte (now an eastern d.d.), samuel l. cutter, fred glimmer of the unitarian church, henry michaels, and w.w. henry, father of the present president of mills college. our active service was mainly confined to marching over the cruel cobble-stones on the fourth of july and other show-off occasions, while commonly we indulged in an annual excursion and target practice in the wilds of alameda. once we saw real service. when the news of the assassination of lincoln reached san francisco the excitement was intense. newspapers that had slandered him or been lukewarm in his support suffered. the militia was called out in fear of a riot and passed a night in the basement of platt's hall. but preparedness was all that was needed. a few days later we took part in a most imposing procession. all the military and most other organizations followed a massive catafalque and a riderless horse through streets heavily draped with black. the line of march was long, arms were reversed, the sorrowing people crowded the way, and solemnity and grief on every hand told how deeply lincoln was loved. i had cast my first presidential vote for him, at turn verein hall, bush street, november 6, 1864. when the news of his re-election by the voters of every loyal state came to us, we went nearly wild with enthusiasm, but our heartiest rejoicing came with the fall of richmond. we had a great procession, following the usual route--from washington square to montgomery, to market, to third, to south park, where fair women from crowded balconies waved handkerchiefs and flags to shouting marchers--and back to the place of beginning. processioning was a great function of those days, observed by the cohorts of st. patrick and by all political parties. it was a painful process, for the street pavement was simply awful. sometimes there were trouble and mild assaults. the only recollection i have of striking a man is connected with a torchlight procession celebrating some union victory. when returning from south of market, a group of jeering toughs closed in on us and i was lightly hit. i turned and using my oil-filled lamp at the end of a staff as a weapon, hit out at my assailant. the only evidence that the blow was an effective one was the loss of the lamp; borne along by solid ranks of patriots i clung to an unilluminated stick. party feeling was strong in the sixties and bands and bonfires plentiful. at one election the democrats organized a corps of rangers, who marched with brooms, indicative of the impending clean sweep by which they were to "turn the rascals out." for each presidential election drill crops were organized, but the blaine invincibles didn't exactly prove so. the republican party held a long lease of power, however. governor low was a very popular executive, while municipally the people's party, formed in 1856 by adherents of the vigilance committee, was still in the saddle, giving good, though not far-sighted and progressive, government. only those who experienced the abuses under the old methods of conducting elections can realize the value of the provision for the uniform ballot and a quiet ballot box, adopted in 1869. there had been no secrecy or privacy, and peddlers of rival tickets fought for patronage to the box's mouth. one served as an election officer at the risk of sanity if not of life. in the "fighting seventh" ward i once counted ballots for thirty-six consecutive hours, and as i remember conditions i was the only officer who finished sober. during my first year in government employ the depreciation in legal-tender notes in which we were paid was very embarrassing. one hundred dollars in notes would bring but thirty-five or forty dollars in gold, and we could get nothing we wanted except with gold. my second year in san francisco i lived in howard street near first and was bookkeeper for a stock-broker. i became familiar with the fascinating financial game that followed the development of the comstock lode, discovered in 1859. it was 1861 before production was large. then began the silver age, a new era that completely transformed california and made san francisco a great center of financial power. within twenty years $340,000,000 poured into her banks. the world's silver output increased from forty millions a year to sixty millions. in september of 1862 the stock board was organized. at first a share in a company represented a running foot on the lode's length. in 1871, mr. cornelius o'connor bought ten shares of consolidated virginia at eight dollars a share. when it had been divided into one thousand shares and he was offered $680 a share, he had the sagacity to sell, realizing a profit of $679,920 on his investment of $80. at the time he sold, a share represented one-fourteenth of an inch. in six years the bonanza yielded $104,000,000, of which $73,000,000 was paid in dividends. the effect of such unparalleled riches was wide-spread. it made nevada a state and gave great impetus to the growth of san francisco. it had a marked influence on society and modified the character of the city itself. fifteen years of abnormal excitement, with gains and losses incredible in amount, unsettled the stability of trade and orderly business and proved a demoralizing influence. speculation became a habit. it was gambling adjusted to all conditions, with equal opportunity for millionaire or chambermaid, and few resisted altogether. few felt shame, but some were secretive. a few words are due adolph sutro, who dealt in cigars in his early manhood, but went to nevada in 1859 and by 1861 owned a quartz-mill. in 1866 he became impressed with the idea that the volume of water continually flowing into the deeper mines of the comstock lode would eventually demand an outlet on the floor of carson valley, four miles away. he secured the legislation and surprised both friends and enemies by raising the money to begin construction of the famous sutro tunnel. he began the work in 1859, and in some way carried it through, spending five million dollars. the mine-owners did not want to use his tunnel, but they had to. he finally sold out at a good price and put the most of a large fortune in san francisco real estate. at one time he owned one-tenth of the area of the city. he forested the bald hills of the san miguel rancho, an immense improvement, changing the whole sky-line back of golden gate park. he built the fine sutro baths, planted the beautiful gardens on the heights above the cliff house, established a car line that meant to the ocean for a nickel, amassed a library of twenty thousand volumes, and incidentally made a good mayor. he was a public benefactor and should be held in grateful memory. the memories that cluster around a certain building are often impressive, both intrinsically and by reason of their variety. platt's hall is connected with experiences of first interest. for many years it was the place for most occasional events of every character. it was a large square auditorium on the spot now covered by the mills building. balls, lectures, concerts, political meetings, receptions, everything that was popular and wanted to be considered first-class went to platt's hall. starr king's popularity had given the unitarian church and sunday-school a great hold on the community. at christmas its festivals were held in platt's hall. we paid a hundred dollars for rent and twenty-five dollars for a christmas-tree. persons who served as doorkeepers or in any other capacity received ten dollars each. at one dollar for admission we crowded the big hall and always had money left over. our entertainments were elaborate, closing with a dance. my first service for the sunday-school was the unobserved holding up an angel's wing in a tableau. one of the most charming of effects was an artificial snowstorm, arranged for the concluding dance at a christmas festival. the ceiling of the hall was composed of horizontal windows giving perfect ventilation and incidentally making it feasible for a large force of boys to scatter quantities of cut-up white paper evenly and plentifully over the dancers, the evergreen garlands decorating the hall, and the polished floor. it was a long-continued downpour, a complete surprise, and for many a year a happy tradition. in platt's hall wonderfully fine orchestral concerts were held, under the very capable direction of rudolph herold. early in the sixties caroline richings had a successful season of english opera. later the howsons charmed us for a time. all the noteworthy lecturers of the world who visited california received us at platt's hall. beecher made a great impression. carl schurz, also, stirred us deeply. i recall one clever sentence. he said, "when the time came that this country needed a poultice it elected president hayes and got it." of our local talent real eloquence found its best expression in henry edgerton. the height of enthusiasm was registered in war-time by the mighty throng that gathered at lincoln's call for a hundred thousand men. starr king was the principal speaker. he had called upon his protã©gã©, bret harte, for a poem for the occasion. harte doubted his ability, but he handed mr. king the result of his effort. he called it the "reveille." king was greatly delighted. harte hid himself in the concourse. king's wonderful voice, thrilling with emotion, carried the call to every heart and the audience with one accord stood and cheered again and again. one of the most striking coincidences i ever knew occurred in connection with the comparatively mild earthquake of 1866. it visited us on a sunday at the last moments of the morning sermon. those in attendance at the unitarian church were engaged in singing the last hymn, standing with books in hand. the movement was not violent but threatening. it flashed through my mind that the strain on a building with a large unsupported roof must be great. faces blanched, but all stood quietly waiting the end, and all would have gone well had not the large central pipe of the organ, apparently unattached, only its weight holding it in place, tottered on its base and leaped over the heads of the choir, falling into the aisle in front of the first pews. the effect was electric. the large congregation waited for no benediction or other form of dismissal. the church was emptied in an incredibly short time, and the congregation was very soon in the middle of the street, hymnbooks in hand. the coincidence was that the verse being sung was, "the seas shall melt, and skies to smoke decay, rocks turn to dust, and mountains fall away." we had evening services at the time, and dr. stebbins again gave out the same hymn, and this time we sang it through. the story of golden gate park and how the city got it is very interesting, but must be much abridged. in 1866 i pieced out a modest income by reporting the proceedings of the board of supervisors and the school board for the _call_. it was in the palmy days of the people's party. the supervisors, elected from the wards in which they lived, were honest and fairly able. the man of most brains and initiative was frank mccoppin. the most important question before them was the disposition of the outside lands. in 1853 the city had sued for the four square leagues (seventeen thousand acres) allowed under the mexican law. it was granted ten thousand acres, which left all land west of divisadero street unsettled as to title. appeal was taken, and finally the city's claim was confirmed. in 1866 congress passed an act confirming the decree, and the legislature authorized the conveyance of the lands to occupants. they were mostly squatters, and the prize was a rich one. congress had decreed "that all of this land not needed for public purposes, or not previously disposed of, should be conveyed to the persons in possession," so that all the latitude allowed was as to what "needs for public purposes" covered. there had been agitation for a park; indeed, frederick law olmstead had made an elaborate but discouraging report, ignoring the availability of the drifting sand-hills that formed so large a part of the outside lands, recommending a park including our little duboce park and one at black point, the two to be connected by a widened and parked van ness avenue, sunken and crossed by ornamental bridges. the undistributed outside lands to be disposed of comprised eighty-four hundred acres. the supervisors determined to reserve one thousand acres for a park. some wanted to improve the opportunity to secure without cost considerably more. the _bulletin_ advocated an extension that would bring a bell-shaped panhandle down to the yerba buena cemetery, property owned by the city and now embraced in the civic center. after long consideration a compromise was made by which the claimants paid to those whose lands were kept for public use ten per cent of the value of the lands distributed. by this means 1,347.46 acres were rescued, of which golden gate park included 1,049.31, the rest being used for a cemetery, buena vista park, public squares, school lots, etc. the ordinances accomplishing the qualified boon to the city were fathered by mccoppin and clement. other members of the committee, immortalized by the streets named after them, were clayton, ashbury, cole, shrader, and stanyan. the story of the development of golden gate park is well known. the beauty and charm are more eloquent than words, and john mclaren, ranks high among the city's benefactors. the years from 1860 to 1870 marked many changes in the character and appearance of san francisco. indeed, its real growth and development date from the end of the first decade. before that we were clearing off the lot and assembling the material. the foundation of the structure that we are still building was laid in the second decade. statistics establish the fact. in population we increased from less than 57,000 to 150,000--163 per cent. in the first decade our assessed property increased $9,000,000; in the second, $85,000,000. our imports and exports increased from $3,000,000 to $13,000,000. great gain came through the silver production, but greater far from the development of the permanent industries of the land--grain, fruit, lumber--and the shipping that followed it. the city made strides in growth and beauty. our greatest trial was too much prosperity and the growth of luxury and extravagance. chapter vi later san francisco in a brief chapter little can be offered that will tell the story of half a century of life of a great city. no attempt will be made to trace its progress or to recount its achievement. it is my purpose merely to record events and occurrences that i remember, for whatever interest they may have or whatever light they may throw on the life of the city or on my experience in it. for many years we greatly enjoyed the exhibits and promenade concerts of the mechanics' institute fairs. the large pavilion also served a useful purpose in connection with various entertainments demanding capacity. in 1870 there was held a very successful musical festival; twelve hundred singers participated and camilla urso was the violinist. the attendance exceeded six thousand. the mercantile library was in 1864 very strong and seemed destined to eternal life, but it became burdened with debt and sought to extricate itself by an outrageous expedient. the legislature passed an act especially permitting a huge lottery, and for three days in 1870 the town was given over to gambling, unabashed and unashamed. the result seemed a triumph. half a million dollars was realized, but it was a violation of decency that sounded the knell of the institution, and it was later absorbed by the plodding mechanics' institute, which had always been most judiciously managed. its investments in real estate that it used have made it wealthy. a gala day of 1870 was the spectacular removal of blossom rock. the early-day navigation was imperiled by a small rock northwest of angel island, covered at low tide by but five feet of water. it was called blossom, from having caused the loss of an english ship of that name. the government closed a bargain with engineer von schmidt, who three years before had excavated from the solid rock at hunter's point a dry dock that had gained wide renown. von schmidt guaranteed twenty-four feet of water at a cost of seventy-five thousand dollars, no payment to be made unless he succeeded. he built a cofferdam, sunk a shaft, planted twenty-three tons of powder in the tunnels he ran, and on may 25th, after notice duly served, which sent the bulk of the population to view-commanding hills, he pushed an electric button that fired the mine, throwing water and debris one hundred and fifty feet in the air. blossom rock was no more, deep water was secured, and von schmidt cashed his check. on my trip from humboldt county to san francisco in 1861 i made the acquaintance of andrew s. hallidie, an english engineer who had constructed a wire bridge over the klamath river. in 1872 he came to my printing office to order a prospectus announcing the formation of a small company to construct a new type of street-car, to be propelled by wire cable running in a conduit in the street and reached by a grip through a slot. it was suggested by the suffering of horses striving to haul cars up our steep hills and it utilized methods successfully used in transporting ores from the mines. on august 2, 1873, the first cable-car made a successful trial trip of seven blocks over clay street hill, from kearny to leavenworth. later it was extended four blocks to the west. from this beginning the cable-roads spread over most of the city and around the world. with the development of the electric trolley they were largely displaced except on steep grades, where they still perform an important function. mr. hallidie was a public-spirited citizen and an influential regent of the university of california. in 1874 there was forced upon the citizens of san francisco the necessity of taking steps to give better care and opportunity to the neglected children of the community. a poorly conducted reform school was encouraging crime instead of effecting reform. on every hand was heard the question, "what shall we do with our boys?" encouraged by the reports of what had been accomplished in new york city by charles l. brace, correspondence was entered into, and finally the boys and girls aid society was organized. difficulty was encountered in finding any one willing to act as president of the organization, but george c. hickox, a well-known banker, was at last persuaded and became much interested in the work. for some time it was a difficult problem to secure funds to meet the modest expenses. a lecture by charles kingsley was a flat failure. much more successful was an entertainment at platt's hall at which well-known citizens took part in an old-time spelling-match. in a small building in clementina street we began with neighborhood boys, who were at first wild and unruly. senator george c. perkins became interested, and for more than forty years served as president. through him senator fair gave five thousand dollars and later the two valuable fifty-vara lots at grove and baker streets, still occupied by the home. we issued a little paper, _child and state_, in which we appealed for a building, and a copy fell into the hands of miss helen mcdowell, daughter of the general. she sent it to miss hattie crocker, who passed it to her father, charles crocker, of railroad fame. he became interested and wrote for particulars, and when the plans were submitted he told us to go ahead and build, sending the bills to him. these two substantial gifts made possible the working out of our plans, and the results have been very encouraging. when the building was erected, on the advice of the experts of the period, two lockups were installed, one without light. experience soon convinced us that they could be dispensed with, and both were torn out. an honor system was substituted, to manifest advantage, and failures to return when boys are permitted to visit parents are negligible in number. the three months of summer vacation are devoted to berry-picking, with satisfaction to growers and to the boys, who last year earned eleven thousand dollars, of which seven thousand dollars was paid to the boys who participated, in proportion to the amount earned. william c. ralston was able, daring, and brilliant. in 1864 he organized the bank of california, which, through its virginia city connection and the keenness and audacity of william sharon, practically monopolized the big business of the comstock, controlling mines, milling, and transportation. in san francisco it was _the_ bank, and its earnings were huge. ralston was public-spirited and enterprising. he backed all kinds of schemes as well as many legitimate undertakings. he seemed the great power of the pacific coast. but in 1875, when the silver output dropped and the tide that had flowed in for a dozen years turned to ebb, distrust was speedy. on the afternoon of august 26th, as i chanced to be passing the bank, i saw with dismay the closing of its doors. the death of ralston, the discovery of wild investments, and the long train of loss were intensely tragic. the final rehabilitation of the bank brought assurance and rich reward to those who met their loss like men, but the lesson was a hard one. in retrospect ralston seems to typify that extraordinary era of wild speculation and recklessness. no glance at old san francisco can be considered complete which does not at least recognize emperor norton, a picturesque figure of its life. a heavy, elderly man, probably jewish, who paraded the streets in a dingy uniform with conspicuous epaulets, a plumed hat, and a knobby cane. whether he was a pretender or imagined that he was an emperor no one knew or seemed to care. he was good-natured, and he was humored. everybody bought his scrip in fifty cents denomination. i was his favored printer, and he assured me that when he came into his estate he would make me chancellor of the exchequer. he often attended the services of the unitarian church, and expressed his feeling that there were too many churches and that when the empire was established he should request all to accept the unitarian church. he once asked me if i could select from among the ladies of our church a suitable empress. i told him i thought i might, but that he must be ready to provide for her handsomely; that no man thought of keeping a bird until he had a cage, and that a queen must have a palace. he was satisfied, and i never was called upon. the most memorable of the fourth of july celebrations was in 1876, when the hundredth anniversary called for something special. the best to be had was prepared for the occasion. the procession was elaborate and impressive. dr. stebbins delivered a fine oration; there was a poem, of course; but the especial feature was a military and naval spectacle, elaborate in character. the fortifications around the harbor and the ships available were scheduled to unite in an attack on a supposed enemy ship attempting to enter the harbor. the part of the invading cruiser was taken by a large scow anchored between sausalito and fort point. at an advertised hour the bombardment was to begin, and practically the whole population of the city sought the high hills commanding the view. the hills above the presidio were then bare of habitations, but on that day they were black with eager spectators. when the hour arrived the bombardment began. the air was full of smoke and the noise was terrific, but alas for marksmanship, the willing and waiting cruiser rode serenely unharmed and unhittable. the afternoon wore away and still no chance shot went home. finally a whitehall boat sneaked out and set the enemy ship on fire, that her continued security might no longer oppress us. it was a most impressive exhibit of unpreparedness, and gave us much to think of. on the evening of the same day, father neri, at st. ignatius college, displayed electric lighting for the first time in san francisco, using three french arc lights. the most significant event of the second decade was the rise and decline of the workingmen's party, following the remarkable episode of the sand lot and denis kearney. the winter of 1876-77 had been one of slight rainfall, there had been a general failure of crops, the yield of gold and silver had been small, and there was much unemployment. there had been riots in the east and discontent and much resentment were rife. the line of least resistance seemed to be the clothes-line. the chinese, though in no wise responsible, were attacked. laundries were destroyed, but rioting brought speedy organization. a committee of safety, six thousand strong, took the situation in hand. the state and the national governments moved resolutely, and order was very soon restored. kearney was clever and knew when to stop. he used his qualities of leadership for his individual advantage and eventually became sleek and prosperous. in the meantime he was influential in forming a political movement that played a prominent part in giving us a new constitution. the ultra conservatives were frightened, but the new instrument did not prove so harmful as was feared. it had many good features and lent itself readily to judicial construction. while we now treat the episode lightly, it was at the time a serious matter. it was jack cade in real life, and threatened existing society much as the bolshevists do in russia. the significant feature of the experience was that there was a measure of justification for the protest. vast fortunes had been suddenly amassed and luxury and extravagance presented a damaging contrast to the poverty and suffering of the many. heartlessness and indifference are the primary danger. the result of the revolt was on the whole good. the warning was needed, and, on the other hand, the protestants learned that real reforms are not brought about by violence or even the summary change of organic law. in 1877 i had the good fortune to join the chit-chat club, which had been formed three years before on very simple lines. a few high-minded young lawyers interested in serious matters, but alive to good-fellowship, dined together once a month and discussed an essay that one of them had written. the essayist of one meeting presided at the next. a secretary-treasurer was the only officer. originally the papers alternated between literature and political economy, but as time went on all restrictions were removed, although by usage politics and religion are shunned. the membership has always been of high character and remarkable interest has been maintained. i have esteemed it a great privilege to be associated with so fine a body of kindly, cultivated men, and educationally it has been of great advantage. i have missed few meetings in the forty-four years, and the friendships formed have been many and close. we formerly celebrated our annual meetings and invited men of note. our guests included generals howard, gibbons, and miles, the lecontes, edward rowland sill, and luther burbank. we enjoyed meeting celebrities, but our regular meetings, with no formality, proved on the whole more to our taste and celebrations were given up. when i think of the delight and benefit that i have derived from this association of clubbable men i feel moved to urge that similar groups be developed wherever even a very few will make the attempt. in 1879 i joined many of my friends and acquaintances in a remarkable entertainment on a large scale. it was held in the mechanics' pavilion and continued for many successive nights. it was called the "carnival of authors." the immense floor was divided into a series of booths, occupied by representative characters of all the noted authors, shakespeare, chaucer, dickens, irving, scott, and many others. a grand march every evening introduced the performances or receptions given at the various booths, and was very colorful and amusing. my character was the fortune-teller in the alhambra, and my experiences were interesting and impressive. my disguise was complete, and in my zodiacal quarters i had much fun in telling fortunes for many people i knew quite well, and i could make revelations that seemed to them very wonderful. in the grand march i could indulge in the most unmannered swagger. my own sister asked in indignation: "who is that old man making eyes at me?" i held many charming hands as i pretended to study the lines. one evening charles crocker, as he strolled past, inquired if i would like any help. i assured him that beauty were safer in the hands of age. a young woman whom i saw weekly at church came with her cousin, a well-known banker. i told her fortune quite to her satisfaction, and then informed her that the gentleman with her was a relative, but not a brother. "how wonderful!" she exclaimed. a very well-known irish stock operator came with his daughter, whose fortune i made rosy. she persuaded her father to sit. nearly every morning i had met him as he rode a neat pony along a street running to north beach, where he took a swim. i told him that the lines of his hand indicated water, that he had been born across the water. "yes," he murmured, "in france." i told him he had been successful. "moderately so," he admitted. i said, "some people think it has been merely good luck, but you have contributed to good fortune. you are a man of very regular habits. among your habits is that of bathing every morning in the waters of the bay." "oh, god!" he ejaculated, "he knows me!" some experiences were not so humorous. a very hard-handed, poorly dressed but patently upright man took it very seriously. i told him he had had a pretty hard life, but that no man could look him in the face and say that he had been wronged by him. he said that was so, but he wanted to ask my advice as to what to do when persecuted because he could not do more than was possible to pay an old debt for which he was not to blame. i comforted him all i could, and told him he should not allow himself to be imposed upon. when he left he asked for my address down town. he wanted to see me again. the depth of suffering and the credulity revealed were often embarrassing and made me feel a fraud when i was aiming merely to amuse. i was glad again to become my undisguised self. it was in the late eighties that julia ward howe visited her sister near the city, and i very gladly was of service in helping her fill some of her engagements. she gave much pleasure by lectures and talks and enjoyed visiting some of our attractions. she was charmed with the broadway grammar school, where jean parker had achieved such wonderful results with the foreign girls of the north beach locality. i remember meeting a distinguished educator at a dinner, and i asked him if he had seen the school. he said he had. "what do you think of it?" i asked him. "i think it is the finest school in the world," he said. i took mrs. howe to a class. she was asked to say a few words, and in her beautiful voice she gained instant and warm attention. she asked all the little girls who spoke french in their homes to stand. many rose. then she called for spanish. many more stood. she followed with scandinavian and italian. but when she came to those who used english she found few. she spoke to several in their own tongue and was most enthusiastically greeted. i also escorted her across the bay to mills college, with which she was greatly pleased. she proved herself a good sport. with true bohemianism, she joined in luncheon on the ferryboat, eating ripe strawberries from the original package, using her fingers and enjoying the informality. she fitted every occasion with dignity or humor. in the pulpit at our church she preached a remarkably fine sermon. mozoomdar, the saintly representative of the brahmo somaj, was a highly attractive man. his voice was most musical, and his bearing and manner were beautiful. he seemed pure spirit and a type of the deeply religious nature. nor was he without humor. in speaking of his visit to england he said that his hosts generally seemed to think that for food he required only "an unlimited quantity of milk." politics has had a wide range in san francisco,--rotten at times, petty at others, with the saving grace of occasional idealism. the consolidation act and the people's party touched high-water mark in reform. with the lopping off of the san mateo end of the peninsula in 1856, one board of supervisors was substituted for the three that had spent $2,646,000 the year before. with e.w. burr at its head, under the new board expenditures were reduced to $353,000. the people's party had a long lease of power, but in 1876 mccoppin was elected mayor. later came the reigns of little bosses, the specter of the big corporation boss behind them all, and then the triumph of decency under mcnab, when good men served as supervisors. then came the sinister triumph of ruef and the days of graft, cut short by the amazing exposure, detection, and overthrow of entrenched wickedness, and the administration of dr. taylor, a high idealist, too good to last. early in 1904 twenty-five gentlemen (five of whom were members of the chit-chat club) formed an association for the improvement and adornment of san francisco. d.h. burnham was invited to prepare a plan, and a bungalow was erected on a spur of twin peaks from which to study the problem. a year or more was given to the task, and in september, 1905, a comprehensive report was made and officially sanctioned, by vote and publication. to what extent it might have been followed but for the event of april, 1906, cannot be conjectured, but it is matter of deep regret that so little resulted from this very valuable study of a problem upon which the future of the city so vitally depends. it is not too late to follow its principal features, subject to such modifications as are necessary in the light of a good deal that we have accomplished since the report. san francisco's possibilities for beauty are very great. the earthquake and fire of april, 1906, many san franciscans would gladly forget; but as they faced the fact, so they need not shrink from the memory. it was a never to be effaced experience of man's littleness and helplessness, leaving a changed consciousness and a new attitude. being aroused from deep sleep to find the solid earth wrenched and shaken beneath you, structures displaced, chimneys shorn from their bases, water shut off, railway tracks distorted, and new shocks recurring, induces terror that no imagination can compass. after breakfasting on an egg cooked by the heat from an alcohol lamp, i went to rescue the little i could from my office, and saw the resistless approaching fire shortly consume it. lack of provisions and scarcity of water drove me the next morning across the bay. two days afterward, leaving my motherless children, i returned to bear a hand in relief and restoration. every person going up market street stopped to throw a few bricks from the street to make possible a way for vehicles. for miles desolation reigned. in the unburned districts bread-lines marked the absolute leveling. bankers and beggars were one. very soon the mighty tide of relief set in, beginning with the near-by counties and extending to the ends of the earth. among our interesting experiences at red cross headquarters was the initiation of dr. devine into the habits of the earthquake. he had come from new york to our assistance. we were in session and j.s. merrill was speaking. there came a decidedly sharp shake. an incipient "oh!" from one of the ladies was smothered. mr. merrill kept steadily on. when he had concluded and the shock was over he turned to dr. devine and remarked: "doctor, you look a little pale. i thought a moment ago you were thinking of going out." dr. devine wanly smiled as he replied: "you must excuse me. remember that this is my first experience." i think i never saw a little thing give so much pleasure as when a man who had been given an old coat that was sent from mendocino county found in a pocket a quarter of a dollar that some sympathetic philanthropist had slipped in as a surprise. it seemed a fortune to one who had nothing. perhaps a penniless mother who came in with her little girl was equally pleased when she found that some kind woman had sent in a doll that her girl could have. one of our best citizens, frederick dohrmann, was in germany, his native land, at the time. he had taken his wife in pursuit of rest and health. they had received kindly entertainment from many friends, and decided to make some return by a california reception, at the town hostelry. they ordered a generous dinner. they thought of the usual wealth of flowers at a california party, and visiting a florist's display they bought his entire stock. the invited guests came in large numbers, and the host and hostess made every effort to emphasize their hospitality. but after they had gone mr. dohrmann remarked to his wife: "i somehow feel that the party has not been a success. the people did not seem to enjoy themselves as i thought they would." the next morning as they sought the breakfast-room they were asked if they had seen the morning papers. ordering them they found staring head-lines: "san francisco destroyed by an earthquake!" their guests had seen the billboards on their way to the party, but could not utterly spoil the evening by mentioning it, yet were incapable of merriment. mr. dohrmann and his wife returned at once, and though far from well, he threw himself into the work of restoration, in which no one was more helpful. the dreadful event, however, revealed much good in human nature. helpfulness in the presence of such devastation and suffering might be expected, but honor and integrity after the sharp call of sympathy was over have a deeper meaning. one of my best customers, the bancroft-whitney company, law publishers, having accounts with lawyers and law-booksellers all over the country, lost not only all their stock and plates but all their books of accounts, and were left without any evidence of what was owing them. they knew that exclusive of accounts considered doubtful there was due them by customers other than those in san francisco $175,000. their only means of ascertaining the particulars was through those who owed it. they decided to make it wholly a matter of honor, and sent to the thirty-five thousand lawyers in the united states the following printed circular, which i printed at a hastily assembled temporary printing office across the bay: _to our friends and patrons_: _a_--we have lost all our records of accounts. _b_--our net loss will exceed $400,000. simply a question of honor. _first_--will each lawyer in the country send us a statement of what he owes us, whether due or not due, and names of books covered by said statement on enclosed blank (blue blank). _second_--information for our records (yellow blank). _third_--send us a postal money order for all the money you can now spare. please fill out and send us as soon as possible the forms enclosed. may 15, 1906. returns of money and of acknowledgment were prompt and encouraging. some of those considered doubtful were the first to acknowledge their indebtedness. before long they were able to reproduce their books and the acknowledged balances nearly equaled their estimated total of good accounts. remittances were made until over $170,000 was paid. of this amount about $25,000 covered accounts not included in their estimate of collectible indebtedness. this brought their estimated total to $200,000, and established the fact that over eighty-five per cent of all that was owed them was acknowledged promptly under this call on honor. four years later they were surprised by the receipt of a check for $250 from a lawyer in florida for a bill incurred long before, of which they had no memory. let those who scoff at ideals and bemoan the dishonesty of this materialistic age take note that money is not all, and let those who grudgingly admit that there are a few honest men but no honest lawyers take notice that even lawyers have some sense of honor. some few instances of escape are interesting. i have a friend who was living on the taylor street side of russian hill. when the quake came, his daughter, who had lived in japan and learned wise measures, immediately filled the bathtub with water. a doomed grocery-store near by asked customers to help themselves to goods. my friend chose a dozen large siphon bottles of soda water. the house was detached and for a time escaped, but finally the roof caught from flying embers and the fire was slowly extending. when the time came to leave the house a large american flag was raised to a conspicuous staff. a company of soldiers sent from the presidio for general duty saw the flag several blocks away, and made for the house to save the colors. finding the bathroom water supply, they mixed it with sand and plastered the burning spots. they arrested the spreading flames, but could not reach the fire under the cornice. then they utilized the siphon bottles; one soldier, held by his legs, hung over the roof and squirted the small stream on the crucial spot. the danger was soon over and the house was saved with quite a group of others that would have burned with it. while many individuals never recovered their property conditions or their nerve, it is certain that a new spirit was generated. great obstacles were overcome and determination was invincible. we were forced to act broadly, and we reversed the negative policy of doing nothing and owing nothing. we went into debt with our eyes open, and spent millions in money for the public good. the city was made safe and also beautiful. the city hall, the public library, and the auditorium make our civic center a source of pride. the really great exposition of 1915 was carried out in a way to increase our courage and our capacity. we have developed a fine public spirit and efficient co-operation. we need fear nothing in the future. we have character and we are gaining in capacity. vocation and avocation have about equally divided my time and energy during my residence in san francisco. i have done some things because i was obliged to and many others because i wished to. when one is fitted and trained for some one thing he is apt to devote himself steadily and profitably to it, but when he is an amateur and not a master he is sure to be handicapped. after about a year in the indian department a change in administration left me without a job. for about a year i was a bookkeeper for a stock-broker. then for another year i was a money-broker, selling currency, silver, and revenue stamps. when that petered out i was ready for anything. a friend had loaned money to a printer and seemed about to lose it. in 1867 i became bookkeeper and assistant in this printing office to rescue the loan, and finally succeeded. i liked the business and had the hardihood to buy a small interest, borrowing the necessary money from a bank at one per cent a month. i knew absolutely nothing of the art and little of business. it meant years of wrestling for the weekly pay-roll, often in apprehension of the sheriff, but for better or for worse i stuck to it and gradually established a good business. i found satisfaction in production and had many pleasant experiences. in illustration i reproduce an order i received in 1884 from fred beecher perkins, librarian of the recently established free public library. (he was father of charlotte perkins stetson.) san francisco free public library [handwritten: dec 19 1884 c.a. murdock & co gent. we need two hundred (200) more of those blue chex. please make and deliver same pdq and oblige yours truly f.b. perkins librarian. p.s. the _substance_ of this order is official. the _form_ is slightly speckled with the spice of unofficiality. f.b.p.] [illustration: the clay street office the day after] in 1892, as president of the san francisco typothetae, i had the great pleasure of cooperating with the president of the typographical union in giving a reception and dinner to george w. childs, of philadelphia. our relations were not always so friendly. we once resisted arbitrary methods and a strike followed. my men went out regretfully, shaking hands as they left. we won the strike, and then by gradual voluntary action gave them the pay and hours they asked for. when the earthquake fire of 1906 came i was unfortunately situated. i had lately bought out my partner and owed much money. to meet all my obligations i felt obliged to sell a controlling interest in the business, and that was the beginning of the end. i was in active connection with the printing business for forty-seven years. i am forced to admit that it would have been much to my advantage had i learned in my early life to say "no" at the proper time. the loss in scattering one's powers is too great to contemplate with comfort. i had a witty partner who once remarked, "i have great respect for james bunnell, for he has but one hobby at a time." i knew the inference. a man who has too many hobbies is not respectable. he is not even fair to the hobbies. i have always been overloaded and so not efficient. it is also my habit to hold on. it seems almost impossible to drop what i have taken up, and while there is gain in some ways through standing by there is gross danger in not resolutely stopping when you have enough. in addition to the activities i have incidentally mentioned i have served twenty-five years on the board of the associated charities, and still am treasurer. i have been a trustee of the california school of mechanical arts for at least as long. i have served for years on the board of the babies aid, and also represent the protestant charities on the home-finding agency of the native sons and daughters. it is an almost shameful admission of dissipation. no man of good discretion spreads himself too thin. when i was relieved from further public service, and had disposed of the printing business, it was a great satisfaction to accept the field secretaryship of the american unitarian association for the pacific coast. i enjoyed the travel and made many delightful acquaintances. it was an especial pleasure to accompany such a missionary as dr. william l. sullivan. in 1916 we visited most of the churches on the coast, and it was a constant pleasure to hear him and to see the gladness with which he was always received, and the fine spirit he inspired. i have also found congenial occupation in keeping alive _the pacific unitarian_. thirty years is almost venerable in the life of a religious journal. i have been favored with excellent health and with unnumbered blessings of many kinds. i rejoice at the goodness and kindness of my fellow men. my experience justifies my trustful and hopeful temperament. i believe "the best is yet to be." i am thankful that my lot has been cast in this fair city. i love it and i have faith in its future. there have been times of trial and of fear, but time has told in favor of courage not to be lost and deep confidence in final good. it cannot be doubted that the splendid achievement of the panama-pacific exposition gave strong faith in power to withstand adverse influences and temporary weakness. when we can look back upon great things we have accomplished we gain confidence in ability to reach any end that we are determined upon. it is manifest that a new spirit, an access of faith, has come to san francisco since she astonished the world and surprised herself by creating the magnificent dream on the shores of the bay. at its conclusion a few of us determined it should not be utterly lost. we formed an exposition preservation league through which we salvaged the palace of fine arts, the most beautiful building of the last five centuries, the incomparable marina, a connected driveway from black point to the presidio, the lagoon, and other features that will ultimately revert to the city, greatly adding to its attractiveness. fifty years of municipal life have seen great advance and promise a rich future. materially they have been as prosperous as well-being demands or as is humanly safe--years of healthy growth, free of fever and delirium, in which natural resources have been steadily developed and we have somewhat leisurely prepared for world business on a large scale. in population we have increased from about 150,000 to about 550,000, which is an average advance from decade to decade of thirty-three per cent. bank clearances are considered the best test of business. our clearing house was established in 1876, and the first year the total clearances were $520,000. we passed the million mark in 1900, and in 1920 they reached $8,122,000,000. in 1870 our combined exports and imports were about $13,000,000. in 1920 they were $486,000,000, giving california fourth rank in the national record. the remarkable feature in all our records is the great acceleration in the increase in the years since the disaster of 1906. savings bank receipts in 1920 are twice as large as in 1906, postal receipts three times as large, national bank resources four times as large, national bank deposits nine times as large. there can be no reasonable doubt that san francisco is to be a very important industrial and commercial city. every indication leads to this conclusion. the more important consideration of character and spirit cannot be forecast by statistics, but much that has been accomplished and the changed attitude on social welfare and the humanities leave no doubt on the part of the discerning that we have made great strides and that the future is full of promise. chapter vii incidents in public service at twenty-two i found myself register of the humboldt land office, with offices on the first floor of a building at eureka, the second story of which was occupied by a school. an open veranda extended across the front. when i first let myself into the office, i carelessly left the key in the lock. a mischievous girl simply gave it a turn and i was a prisoner, with a plain but painful way of escape--not physically painful, but humiliating to my official pride. there was nothing for it but ignominiously to crawl out of the window onto the veranda and recover the key--and that i forthwith did. the archives of the office proved interesting. the original register was a missouri congressman, who had been instructed to proceed to humboldt city and open the office. humboldt city was on the map and seemed the logical location. but it had "died aborning" and as a city did not exist. so the register took the responsibility of locating the office at eureka, and in explanation addressed to the president, whom he denominated "buckhannan," a letter in which he went at length into the "hole" subject. the original draft was on file. i was authorized to receive homestead applications, to locate land warrants, to hear contests, and to sell "offered land." the latter was government land that had been offered for sale at $1.25 an acre and had not been taken. strangely enough, it embraced a portion of the redwood belt along mad river, near arcata. but one man seemed aware of the opportunity. john preston, a tanner of arcata, would accumulate thirty dollars in gold and with it buy fifty dollars in legal-tender notes. then he would call and ask for the plat, and, after considerable pawing, he would say, "well, charlie, i guess i'll take that forty." whereupon the transaction would be completed by my taking his greenbacks and giving him a certificate of purchase for the forty acres of timber-land that had cost him seventy-five cents an acre, and later probably netted him not less than three hundred dollars an acre for stumpage alone. today it would be worth twice that. the opportunity was open to all who had a few cents and a little sense. sales of land were few and locations infrequent, consequently commissions were inconsiderable. now and then i would hold a trial between conflicting claimants, some of them quite important. it was natural that the respective attorneys should take advantage of my youth and inexperience, for they had known me in my verdant boyhood and seemed to rejoice in my discomfiture. i had hard work to keep them in order. they threatened one another with ink-bottles and treated me with contempt. they would lure me on when i rejected evidence as inadmissible, offering slightly changed forms, until i was forced to reverse myself. when i was uncertain i would adjourn court and think it over. these were trying experiences, but i felt sure that the claimants' rights would be protected on appeal to the commissioner of the general land office and finally to the secretary of the interior. i was glad that in the biggest case i guessed right. one occurrence made a strong impression on me. it was war-time, and loyalty was an issue. a rancher from mendocino county came to eureka to prove up on his land and get a patent. he seemed to me a fine man, but when he was asked to take the oath of allegiance he balked. i tried my best to persuade him that it was harmless and reasonable, but he simply wouldn't take it, and went back home without his patent. my experiences while chief clerk in the office of the superintendent of indian affairs are too valuable to be overlooked. i traveled quite freely and saw unfamiliar life. i had a very interesting trip in 1865, to inspect the round valley indian reservation and to distribute clothing to the indians. it was before the days of railroads in that part of california. two of us drove a light wagon from petaluma to ukiah, and then put saddles on our horses and started over the mountains to the valley. we took a cold lunch, planning to stay overnight at a stockman's ranch. when we reached the place we found a notice that he had gone to a rodeo. we broke into his barn to feed our horses, but we spared his house. failing to catch fish in the stream near by, we made our dinner of its good water, and after a troubled night had the same fare for breakfast. for once in my life i knew hunger. to the nearest ranch was half a day's journey, and we lost no time in heading for it. on the way i had an encounter with a vicious rattlesnake. the outcome was more satisfactory than it might have been. at noon, when we found a cattleman whose indian mate served venison and hot bread of good quality and abundant quantity, we were appreciative and happy. the remainder of the trip was uneventful. the equal division of clothing or supplies among a lot of indians throws helpful light on the causes of inequality. a very few days suffice to upset all efforts at impartiality. a few, the best gamblers, soon have more than they need, while the many have little or nothing. the valleys of mendocino county are fascinatingly beautiful, and a trip direct to the coast, with a spin along ten miles of perfect beach as we returned, was a fine contrast to hungry climbing over rugged heights. another memorable trip was with two indians from the mouth of the klamath river to its junction with the trinity at weitchpec. the whole course of the stream is between lofty peaks and is a continuous series of sharp turns. after threading its winding way, it is easy to understand what an almost solid resistance would be presented to a rapidly rising river. with such a watershed as is drained by the two rivers, the run-off in a storm would be so impeded as to be very slow. the actual result was demonstrated in 1861. in august of that year, a.s. hallidie built a wire bridge at weitchpec. he made the closest possible examination as to the highest point the river had reached. in an indian rancheria he found a stone door-sill that had been hollowed by constant use for ages. this was then ninety-eight feet above the level of the flowing river. he accepted it as absolutely safe. in december, 1861, the river rose thirty feet above the bridge and carried away the structure. the indians living on lower mad river had been removed for safety to the smith river indian reservation. they were not happy and felt they might safely return, now that the indian war was over. the white men who were friendly believed that if one of the trusted indians could be brought down to talk with his friends he could satisfy the others that it would be better to remain on the reservation. it was my job to go up and bring him down. we came down the beach past the mouth of the klamath, gold bluff, and trinidad, to fort humboldt, and interviewed many white settlers friendly to the indians until the representative was satisfied as to the proper course to follow. in 1851 "gold bluff" was the first great mining excitement. the klamath river enters the ocean just above the bluff that had been made by the deposit of sand, gravel, and boulders to the height of a hundred feet or more. the waves, beating against the bluff for ages, have doubtless washed gold into the ocean's bed. in 1851 it was discovered that at certain tides or seasons there were deposited on the beach quantities of black sand, mingled with which were particles of gold. nineteen men formed a company to take up a claim and work the supposedly exhaustless deposit. an expert report declared that the sand measured would yield each of the men the modest sum of $43,000,000. great excitement stirred san francisco and eight vessels left with adventurers. but it soon was found that black sand was scarce and gold much more so. for some time it paid something, but as a lure it soon failed. when i was first there i was tremendously impressed when shown at the level of the beach, beneath the bluff and its growing trees, an embedded redwood log. it started the imagination on conjectures of when and where it had been clad in beauty as part of a living landscape. an interesting conclusion to this experience was traveling over the state with charles maltby, appointed to succeed my friend, to turn over the property of the department. he was a personal friend of president lincoln, and he bore a striking resemblance to him and seemed like him in character. in 1883 a nominee for the assembly from san francisco declined the honor, and it devolved on a group of delegates to select a candidate in his place. they asked me to run, and on the condition that i should solicit no votes and spend no money i consented. i was one of four republicans elected from san francisco. in the entire state we were outnumbered about four to one. but politics ordinarily cuts little figure. the only measure i introduced provided for the probationary treatment of juvenile delinquents through commitment to an unsectarian organization that would seek to provide homes. i found no opposition in committee or on the floor. when it was reached i would not endanger its passage by saying anything for it. it passed unanimously and was concurred in by the senate. my general conclusion is that the average legislator is ready to support a measure that he feels is meritorious and has no other motive than the general good. we were summoned in extra session to act on matters affecting the railroads. it was at a time when they were decidedly in politics. the central pacific was generally credited with controlling the legislative body of the state. a powerful lobby was maintained, and the company was usually able to thwart the passage of any legislation the political manager considered detrimental to its interests. the farmers and country representatives did all in their power to correct abuses and protect the interests of the people of the state, but the city representatives, in many instances not men of character, were usually controlled by some boss ready to do the bidding of the railroad's chief lobbyist. the hope for decency is always in free men, and they generally are from the country. it was pathetic at times to watch proceedings. i recall one instance, where a young associate from san francisco had cast a vote that was discreditable and pretty plainly indicated corrupt influence. the measure he supported won a passage, but a motion for reconsideration carried, and when it came up the following day the father of the young man was seated by his side as the vote was taken. he was a much-respected plasterer, and he came from his home on a hurried call to save his son from disgrace. it was a great relief when on recall the son reversed his vote and the measure was lost. of course, there were punitive measures, unreasonable and unjust, and some men were afraid to be just if the railroad would in any way be benefited. i tried to be discriminating and impartial, judging each measure on its merits. i found it was a thankless task and bred suspicion. an independent man is usually distrusted. at the end of the session a fine old farmer, consistently against the railroad, said to me: "i couldn't make you out for a long time. some days i gave you a white mark, and some days a black one. i finally give you a white mark--but it was a close shave." i was impressed with the power of the speaker to favor or thwart legislation. at the regular session some senator had introduced a bill favoring the needs of the university of california. he wanted it concurred in by the assembly, and as the leading democrats were pretty busy with their own affairs he entrusted it to me. the speaker favored it, and he did not favor a bill in the hands of a leader of the house involving an appropriation. he called me to his seat and suggested that at the reassembling of the assembly after luncheon i should take the floor to move that the bill be placed on the first-reading file. he knew that the leader would be ready with his pet bill, but he would recognize me. when the gavel fell after luncheon three men leaped for the floor. i arose well at the side of the chamber, while the leader stood directly in front, but the speaker happened (?) to see me first, and the entrusted bill started for speedy success. it is always pleasant to discover unsuspected humor. there was a very serious-appearing country member who, with the others of a committee, visited the state prison at san quentin. we were there at the midday meal and saw the prisoners file in to a substantially laden table. he watched them enjoy the spread, and quietly remarked, "a man who wouldn't be satisfied with such food as that deserves to be turned out of the state prison." some reformer had introduced a bill providing for a complete new code of criminal procedure. it had been referred to the appropriate committee and in due time it made its report. i still can see the committee chairman, a country doctor, as he stood and shook a long finger at the members before him, saying: "mr. speaker, we ask that this measure be read in full to the assembly. i want you to know that i have been obliged to hear it, and i am bound that every member of the house shall hear it." my conclusion at the end of the session was that the people of the state were fortunate in faring no worse. the many had little fitness; a few had large responsibility. doubtful and useless measures predominate, but they are mostly quietly smothered. the country members are watchful and discriminating and a few leaders exercise great power. to me it was a fine experience, and i made good friends. i was interested in proposed measures, and would have willingly gone back the next term. some of my friends sounded the political boss of the period and asked if i could be given a place on the ticket. he smiled and said, "we have no use for him." when the nominating convention was held he sent in by a messenger a folded piece of paper upon which was inscribed the name of the man for whom they had use--and my legislative career was at an end. i went back to my printing business, which never should have been neglected, and stayed mildly by it for eleven years. then, there being a vacancy on the board of education, i responded to the wish of friends and accepted the appointment to help them in their endeavor to better our schools. john swett, an experienced educator, was superintendent. the majority of the board was composed of high-minded and able men. they had turned over the selection of teachers to the best-fitted professors of the university and were giving an economical and creditable administration. if a principalship was vacant, applications were apt to be disregarded, and the person in the department considered most capable and deserving was notified of election. there were, however, some loose methods. all graduates of the high schools were privileged to attend a normal class for a year and then were eligible without any examination to be appointed teachers. the board was not popular with the teachers, many of whom seemed to consider that the department was mainly for their benefit. at the end of the unexpired term i was elected a member of the succeeding board, and this was continued for five years. when the first elected board held a preliminary canvass i naturally felt much interest as to my associates, some of whom were entire strangers. among them was henry t. scott, of the firm of shipbuilders who had built the "oregon." some one remarked that a prominent politician (naming him) would like to know what patronage would be accorded him. mr. scott very forcibly and promptly replied: "so far as i am concerned, not a damned bit. i want none for myself, and i will oppose giving any to him or anyone else." i learned later that he had been elected without being consulted, while absent in the east. upon his return a somewhat notorious woman principal called on him and informed him that she was responsible for his election--at least, his name had been submitted to her and received her approval. he replied that he felt she deserved no thanks for that, as he had no desire to serve. she said she had but one request to make; her janitress must not be removed. he gave her no assurances. soon afterward the matter of appointments came up. mr. scott was asked what he wanted, and he replied: "i want but one thing. it involves the janitress of mrs. ----'s school. i want her to be removed immediately." "all right," replied the questioner. "whom shall we name?" "whomever you please," rejoined scott. "i have no candidate; but no one can tell me what i must or must not do." substitution followed at once. later mr. scott played the star part in the most interesting political struggle i ever knew. a democratic victory placed in the superintendent's office a man whose christian name was appropriately andrew jackson. he had the naming of his secretary, who was ex-officio clerk of the board, which confirmed the appointment. one george beanston had grown to manhood in the office and filled it most satisfactorily. the superintendent nominated a man with no experience, whom i shall call wells, for the reason that it was not his name. mr. scott, a democratic member, and i were asked to report on the nomination. the superintendent and the committee discussed the matter at a pleasant dinner at the pacific-union club, given by chairman scott. at its conclusion the majority conceded that usage and courtesy entitled the superintendent to the appointment. feeling that civil service and the interest of the school department were opposed to removal from position for mere political differences, i demurred and brought in a minority report. there were twelve members, and when the vote to concur in the appointment came up there was a tie, and the matter went over for a week. during the week one of the beanston supporters was given the privilege of naming a janitor, and the suspicion that a trade had been made was justified when on roll-call he hung his head and murmured "wells." the cause seemed lost; but when later in the alphabetical roll scott's name was reached, he threw up his head and almost shouted "beanston," offsetting the loss of the turncoat and leaving the vote still a tie. it was never called up again, and beanston retained the place for another two years. early in 1901 i was called up on the telephone and asked to come to mayor phelan's office at once. i found there some of the most ardent civil service supporters in the city. richard j. freud, a member of the civil service commission, had suddenly died the night before. the vacancy was filled by the mayor's appointment. eugene schmitz had been elected mayor and would take his seat the following day, and the friends of civil service distrusted his integrity. they did not dare to allow him to act. haste seemed discourteous to the memory of freud, but he would want the best for the service. persuaded of the gravity of the matter, i accepted the appointment for a year and filed my commission before returning to my place of business. i enjoyed the work and its obvious advantage to the departments under its operation. the police department especially was given an intelligent and well-equipped force. an amusing incident of an examination for promotion to the position of corporal concerned the hopes we entertained for the success of a popular patrolman. but he did not apply. one day one of the board met him and asked him if he was not to try for it. "i think not," he replied. "my early education was very unlimited. what i know, i know; but i'll be damned if i'm going to give you fellows a chance to find out what i don't know!" i chanced to visit washington during my term as commissioner, and through the courtesy of senator perkins had a pleasant call on president roosevelt. a senator seems to have ready access to the ordinary president, and almost before i realized it we were in the strenuous presence. a cordial hand-clasp and a genial smile followed my introduction, and as the senator remarked that i was a civil service commissioner, the president called: "shake again. i used to be one of those fellows myself." senator perkins went on: "mr. murdock and i have served for many years as fellow trustees of the boys and girls aid society." "ah," said the president, "modeled, i presume, on brace's society, in which my father was greatly interested. do you know i believe work with boys is about the only hope? it's pretty hard to change a man, but when you can start a boy in the right way he has a chance." turning to me he remarked, "did you know that governor brady of alaska was one of brace's placed-out boys!" then of perkins he asked, "by the way, senator, how is brady doing?" "very well, i understand," replied the senator. "i believe he is a thoroughly honest man." "yes; but is he also able? it is as necessary for a man in public life to be able as to be honest." he bade us a hearty good-by as we left him. he impressed me as untroubled and courageous, ready every day for what came, and meeting life with cheer. the story of the moral and political revolution of 1907 has never been adequately told, nor have the significance and importance of the event been fully recognized. the facts are of greater import than the record; but an eyewitness has responsibility, and i feel moved to give my testimony. perhaps so complete a reversal of spirit and administration was never before reached without an election by the people. the faithfulness and nerve of one official backed by the ability of a detective employed by a public-spirited citizen rescued the city government from the control of corrupt and irresponsible men and substituted a mayor and board of supervisors of high character and unselfish purpose. this was accomplished speedily and quietly. with positive proof of bribery that left conviction and a term in prison as the alternative to resignation, district attorney william h. langdon had complete control of the situation. in consultation with those who had proved their interest in the welfare of the city, he asked edward robeson taylor to serve as mayor, privileged to select sixteen citizens to act as supervisors in place of the implicated incumbents, who would be induced to resign. dr. taylor was an attorney of the highest standing, an idealist of fearless and determined character. no pledges hampered him. he was free to act in redeeming the city. in turn, he asked no pledge or promise of those whom he selected to serve as supervisors. he named men whom he felt he could trust, and he subsequently left them alone, asking nothing of them and giving them no advice. it was the year after the fire. i was conducting a substitute printing-office in the old car-barn at geary and buchanan streets. one morning dr. taylor came in and asked if he might speak to me in private. i was not supplied with facilities for much privacy, but i asked him in and we found seats in the corner of the office farthest from the bookkeeper. without preliminary, he said, "i want you to act as one of the supervisors." wholly surprised, i hesitated a moment and then assured him that my respect for him and what he had undertaken was so great that if he was sure he wanted me i would serve. he went out with no further comment, and i heard nothing more of it until i received a notice to meet at his office in the temporary city hall on july 16th. in response to the call i found fifteen other men, most of whom i knew slightly. we seemed to be waiting for something. mr. langdon was there and mr. burns, the detective, was in and out. mr. gallagher, late acting mayor and an old-time friend of the district attorney, was helping in the transfer, in which he was included. langdon would suggest some procedure: "how will this do, jim?" "it seems to me, billy, that this will be better," gallagher would reply. burns finally reported that the last of the "bunch" had signed his resignation and that we could go ahead. we filed into the boardroom. mayor taylor occupied the chair, to which the week before he had been obediently but not enthusiastically elected by "those about to die." the supervisor alphabetically ranking offered his written resignation, which the mayor promptly accepted. he then appointed as successor the first, alphabetically, on his list. the deputy county clerk was conveniently near and promptly administered the oath and certified the commission. the old member slunk or swaggered out and the new member took his place. so the dramatic scene continued until the transformation was accomplished and a new era dawned. the atmosphere was changed, but was very serious and determined. everyone felt the gravity of the situation and that we had no easy task ahead. solemnity marked the undertaking and full realization that hard work alone could overcome obstacles and restore endurable conditions. many of the men selected by dr. taylor had enjoyed experience and all were anxious to do their best. with firm grasp and resolute procedure, quick results followed. there was to be an election in november. some of the strongest members had accepted service as an emergency call and could not serve longer; but an incredible amount of planning was accomplished and a great deal disposed of, so that though ten of the appointed board served but six months they had rendered a great service and fortunately were succeeded by other men of character, and the good work went steadily on. in looking back to the problems that confronted the appointed board and the first elected board, also headed by dr. taylor, they seem insurmountable. it is hard now to appreciate the physical conditions of the city. it was estimated that not less than five million dollars would be required to put the streets into any decent condition. it was at first proposed to include this, sum in the bond issue that could not be escaped, but reflection assured us that so temporary a purpose was not a proper use of bond money, and we met the expenditure from the annual tax levy. we found the smallest amount required for urgent expenditure in excess of the tax levy was $18,200,000, and at a special election held early in 1908 the voters endorsed the proposed issue by a vote of over 21,000 to 1800. the three largest expenditures were for an auxiliary water system for fire protection ($5,200,000), for school buildings ($5,000,000), and for sewers ($4,000,000). i cannot follow the various steps by which order was brought out of chaos, nor can i give special acknowledgment where it is manifestly due; but i can bear testimony to the unselfishness and faithfulness of a remarkable body of public officials and to a few of the things accomplished. to correct gross evils and restore good conditions is no slight task; but to substitute the best for the worst is a great achievement. this san francisco has done in several marked instances. there was a time when about the only thing we could boast was that we spent a _less_ sum per capita than any city in the union for the care of hospital patients. i remember hearing that fine citizen, frederick dohrmann, once say, "every supervisor who has gone out of public service leaving our old county hospital standing is guilty of a municipal crime." it was a disgrace of which we were ashamed. the fire had spared the building, but the new supervisors did not. we now have one of the best hospitals in the country, admirably conducted. our city prison is equally reversed. it was our shame; it is our pride. the old almshouse was a discreditable asylum for the politician who chanced to superintend it. today our "relief home" is a model for the country. in 1906 the city was destroyed because unprotected against fire. today we are as safe as a city can be. in the meantime the reduced cost of insurance pays insured citizens a high rate of interest on the cost of our high-pressure auxiliary fire system. our streets were once noted for their poor construction and their filthy condition. recently an informed visitor has pronounced them the best to be found. we had no creditable boulevards or drives. quietly and without bond expenditure we have constructed magnificent examples. our school buildings were shabby and poor. many now are imposing and beautiful. this list could be extended; but turn for a moment to matters of manners. where are the awful corner-groceries that helped the saloons to ruin men and boys, and where are the busy nickel-in-the-slot machines and shameless smokers in the street-cars? where are the sellers of lottery tickets, where the horse-races and the open gambling? it was my fortune to be re-elected for eight years. sometimes i am impressed by how little i seem to have individually accomplished in this long period of time. one effect of experience is to modify one's expectations. it is not nearly so easy to accomplish things as one who has not tried is apt to imagine. reforming is not an easy process. inertia is something really to be overcome, and one is often surprised to find how obstinate majorities can be. initiative is a rare faculty and an average legislator must be content to follow. one can render good service sometimes by what he prevents. again, he may finally fail in some good purpose through no fault of his own, and yet win something even in losing. early in my term i was convinced that one thing that ought to be changed was our absurd liquor license. we had by far the lowest tax of any city in the union, and naturally had the largest number of saloons. i tried to have the license raised from eighty-four dollars to one thousand dollars, hoping to reduce our twenty-four hundred saloons. i almost succeeded. when i failed the liquor interest was so frightened at its narrow escape that it led the people to adopt a five-hundred-dollar substitute. i was led to undertake the correction of grave abuses and confusion in the naming of the city streets. the post-office authorities were greatly hampered in the mail delivery by the duplicate use of names. the dignified word "avenue" had been conferred on many alleys. a commission worked diligently and efficiently. one set of numbered streets was eliminated. the names of men who had figured in the history of the city were given to streets bearing their initials. anza, balboa, and cabrillo gave meaning to a, b, and c. we gave columbus an avenue, lincoln a "way," and substituted for east street the original name of the waterfront, "the embarcadero." in all we made more than four hundred changes and corrections. there were occasional humorous incidents connected with this task. there were opposition and prejudice against names offered. some one proposed a "st. francis boulevard." an apparently intelligent man asked why we wanted to perpetuate the name of "that old pirate." i asked, "who do you think we have in mind?" he replied, "i suppose you would honor sir francis drake." he seemed never to have heard of saint francis of assisi. it was predicted that the taylor administration with its excellent record would be continued, but at the end of two years it went down to defeat and the workingmen's party, with p.h. mccarthy as mayor, gained strong control. for two years, as a minority member, i enjoyed a different but interesting experience. it involved some fighting and preventive effort; but i found that if one fought fairly he was accorded consideration and opportunity. i introduced a charter amendment that seemed very desirable, and it found favor. the charter prescribed a two-year term for eighteen supervisors and their election each alternate year. under the provision it was possible to have every member without experience. by making the term four years and electing nine members every other year experience was assured, and the ballot would be half the length, a great advantage. it had seemed wise to me to allow the term of the mayor to remain two years, but the friends of mayor mccarthy were so confident of his re-election that they insisted on a four-year term. as so amended the matter went to the people and was adopted. at the following election mayor james rolph, jr., was elected for four years, two of which were an unintentional gift of his political opponents. i served for four years under the energetic rolph, and they were fruitful ones. most of the plans inaugurated by the taylor board were carried out, and materially the city made great strides. the exposition was a revelation of what was possible, and of the city hall and the civic center we may well be proud. some of my supervisorial experiences were trying and some were amusing. discussion was often relieved by rare bits of eloquence and surprising use of language. pronunciation was frequently original and unprecedented. amazing ignorance was unconcealed and the gift of gab was unrestrained. nothing quite equaled in fatal facility a progress report made by a former member soon after his debut: "we think we shall soon be able to bring chaos out of the present disorder, now existing." on one of our trips of investigation the city engineer had remarked on the watershed. one of the members later cornered him and asked "where is the watershed?" expecting to be shown a building that had escaped his attention. a pleasant episode of official duty early in rolph's term was an assignment to represent the city at a national municipal congress at los angeles. we were called upon, in connection with a study of municipal art, to make an exhibit of objects of beauty or ornament presented to the city by its citizens. we felt that san francisco had been kindly dealt with, but were surprised at the extent and variety of the gifts. enlarged sepia photographs of structures, monuments, bronzes, statuary, and memorials of all kinds were gathered and framed uniformly. there were very many, and they reflected great credit and taste. properly inscribed, they filled a large room in los angeles and attracted much attention. interest was enhanced by the cleverness of the young woman in charge. the general title of the collection was "objects of art presented by its citizens to the city of san francisco." she left a space and over a conspicuous panel printed the inscription "objects of art presented by its citizens to the city of los angeles." the panel was empty. the ordinarily proud city had nothing to show. moses at pisgah gazed upon the land he was not to enter. my pisgah was reached at the end of 1916. my halls of service were temporary. the new city hall was not occupied until just after i had found my political moab; the pleasure of sitting in a hall which is pronounced the most beautiful in america was not for me. as i look back upon varied public service, i am not clear as to its value; but i do not regret having tried to do my part. my practical creed was never to seek and never to decline opportunity to serve. i feel that the effort to do what i was able to do hardly justified itself; but it always seemed worth trying, and i do not hold myself responsible for results. i am told that in parts of california infinitesimal diatoms form deposits five thousand feet in thickness. if we have but little to give we cannot afford not to give it. chapter viii an investment on the morning of october 18, 1850, there appeared in san francisco's morning paper the following notice: religious intelligence there will be religious services (unitarian) on sunday morning next, october 20th, at simmons' athenaeum hall. entrance on commercial and sacramento streets. a discourse will be preached by rev. charles a. farley. san francisco at this time was a community very unlike any known to history. two years before it is said to have numbered eight hundred souls, and two years before that about two hundred. during the year 1849, perhaps thirty thousand men had come from all over the world, of whom many went to the mines. the directory of that year contained twenty-five hundred names. by october, 1850, the population may have been twenty thousand. they were scattered thinly over a hilly and rough peninsula, chaparral-covered but for drifting sand and with few habitable valleys. from pacific to california streets and from dupont to the bay was the beginning of the city's business. a few streets were graded and planked. clay street stretched up to stockton. to the south mountains of sand filled the present market street, and protected by them nestled happy valley, reaching from first to third streets and beyond mission. in 1849 it was a city of tents. wharves were pushing out into the bay. long wharf (commercial street) reached deep water about where drumm street now crosses it. among the motley argonauts were a goodly number of new englanders, especially from boston and maine. naturally some of them were unitarians. it seems striking that so many of them were interested in holding services. they had all left "home" within a year or so, and most of them expected to go back within two years with their respective fortunes. when it was learned that a real unitarian minister was among them, they arranged for a service. the halls of the period were west of kearny street in sacramento and california. they secured the athenaeum and gave notice in the _alta california_. it is significant that the day the notice appeared proved to be historical. the steamer "oregon" was due, and it was hoped she would bring the news of favorable action by congress on the application of california to be admitted into the union. when in the early forenoon the steamer, profusely decorated with bunting, rounded clark's point assurance was given, and by the time she landed at commercial and drumm the town was wild with excitement. [illustration: thomas starr king. san francisco, 1860-1864] eastern papers sold readily at a dollar a copy. all day and night impromptu celebrations continued. unnumbered silk hats (commonly worn by professional men and leading merchants) were demolished and champagne flowed freely. it should be remembered that thirty-nine days had elapsed since the actual admission, but none here had known it. the pilgrim yankees must have felt like going to church now that california was a part of the union and that another free state had been born. at any rate, the service conducted by rev. charles a. farley was voted a great success. one man had brought a service-book and another a hymnbook. four of the audience volunteered to lead the singing, while another played an accompaniment on the violin. after the services twenty-five men remained to talk things over, and arranged to continue services from week to week. on november 17, 1850, "the first unitarian church of san francisco" was organized, captain frederick w. macondray being made the first moderator. mr. farley returned to new england in april, 1851, and services were suspended. then occurred two very serious fires, disorganizing conditions and compelling postponement. it was more than a year before an attempt was made to call another minister. in may, 1852, rev. joseph harrington was invited to take charge of the church. he came in august and began services under great promise in the united states district court building. a few weeks later he was taken alarmingly ill, and died on november 2d. it was a sad blow, but the society withstood it calmly and voted to complete the building it had begun in stockton street, near sacramento. rev. frederic t. gray, of bulfinch street chapel, boston, under a leave of absence for a year, came to california and dedicated the church on july 1, 1853. this was the beginning of continuous church services. on the following sunday, pilgrim sunday-school was organized. mr. gray, a kind and gentle soul, rendered good service in organizing the activities of the church. he was succeeded by rev. rufus p. cutler, of portland, maine, a refined, scholarly man, who served for nearly five years. he resigned and sailed for new york in june, 1859. during his term the sunday-school prospered under the charge of samuel l. lloyd. rev. j.a. buckingham filled the pulpit for ten months preceding april 28, 1860, when thomas starr king arrived. the next day mr. king faced a congregation that crowded the church to overflowing and won the warm and enthusiastic regard of all, including many new adherents. with a winning personality, eloquent and brilliant, he was extraordinarily attractive as a preacher and as a man. he had great gifts and he was profoundly in earnest--a kindly, friendly, loving soul. in 1861 i planned to pass through the city on sunday with the possibility of hearing him. the church was crowded. i missed no word of his wonderful voice. he looked almost boyish, but his eyes and his bearing proclaimed him a man, and his word was thrilling. i heard him twice and went to my distant home with a blessed memory and an enlarged ideal of the power of a preacher. few who heard him still survive, but a woman of ninety-three years who loves him well vividly recalls his second service that led to a friendship that lasted all his life. in his first year he accomplished wonders for the church. he had felt on coming that in a year he should return to his devoted people in the hollis street church of boston. but when fort sumter was fired upon he saw clearly his appointed place. he threw himself into the struggle to hold california in the union. he lectured and preached everywhere, stimulating patriotism and loyalty. he became a great national leader and the most influential person on the pacific coast. he turned california from a doubtful state to one of solid loyalty. secession defeated, he accomplished wonders for the sanitary commission. a large part of 1863 he gave to the building of the beautiful church in geary street near stockton. it was dedicated in january, 1864. he preached in it but seven sundays, when he was attacked with a malady which in these days is not considered serious but from which he died on march 4th, confirming a premonition that he would not live to the age of forty. he was very deeply mourned. it was regarded a calamity to the entire community. to the church and the denomination the loss seemed irreparable. to dr. henry w. bellows, of new york, the acknowledged unitarian leader, was entrusted the selection of the one to fill the vacant pulpit. he knew the available men and did not hesitate. he notified horatio stebbins, of portland, maine, that he was called by the great disaster to give up the parish he loved and was satisfied to serve and take the post of the fallen leader on the distant shore. dr. bellows at once came to san francisco to comfort the bereaved church and to prepare the way for mr. stebbins, who in the meantime went to new york to minister to dr. bellows' people in his absence. it was during the brief and brilliant ministry of dr. bellows that good fortune brought me to san francisco. dr. bellows was a most attractive preacher, persuasive and eloquent. his word and his manner were so far in advance of anything to which i was accustomed that they came as a revelation of power and beauty. i was entranced, and a new world of thought and feeling opened before me. life itself took on a new meaning, and i realized the privilege offered in such a church home. i joined without delay, and my connection has been uninterrupted from that day to this. for over fifty-seven years i have missed few opportunities to profit by its services. i speak of it not in any spirit of boasting, but in profound gratitude. physical disability and absence from the city have both been rare. in the absence of reasons i have never felt like offering excuses. early in september, horatio stebbins and family arrived from new york, and dr. bellows returned to his own church. the installation of the successor of starr king was an impressive event. the church building that had been erected by and for king was a beautiful and commodious building, but it would not hold all the people that sought to attend the installation of the daring man who came to take up the great work laid down by the preacher-patriot. he was well received, and a feeling of relief was manifest. the church was still in strong hands and the traditions would be maintained. on september 9th dr. stebbins stood modestly but resolutely in the pulpit so sanctified by the memory of king. few men have faced sharper trials and met them with more serenity and apparent lack of consciousness. it was not because of self-confidence or of failure to recognize what was before him. he knew very well what was implied in following such a man as starr king, but he was so little concerned with anything so comparatively unimportant as self-interest or so unessential as personal success that he was unruffled and calm. he indulged in no illusion of filling mr. king's place. he stood on his own feet to make his own place, and to do his own work in his own way, with such results as came, and he was undisturbed. toward the end of his life he spoke of always having preached from the level of his own mind. it was always true of him. he never strained for effect, or seemed unduly concerned for results. in one of his prayers he expresses his deep philosophy of life: "help us, each one in his place, in the place which is providentially allotted to us in life, to act well our part, with consecrated will, with pure affection, with simplicity of heart--to do our duty, and to leave the rest to god." it was wholly in that spirit that dr. stebbins took up the succession of thomas starr king. personally, i was very glad to renew my early admiration for mr. stebbins, who had chosen his first parish at fitchburg, adjoining my native town, and had always attracted me when he came to exchange with our minister. he was a strong, original, manly character, with great endowments of mind and heart. he was to enjoy a remarkable ministry of over thirty-five years and endear himself to all who knew him. he was a great preacher and a great man. he inspired confidence, and was broad and generous. he served the community as well as his church, being especially influential in promoting the interests of education. he was a kindly and helpful man, and he was not burdened by his large duties and responsibilities, he was never hurried or harassed. he steadily pursued his placid way and built up a really great influence. he was, above all else, an inspirer of steadfast faith. with a great capacity for friendship, he was very generous in it, and was indulgent in judgment of those he liked. i was a raw and ignorant young man, but he opened his great heart to me and treated me like an equal. twenty years difference in years seemed no barrier. he was fond of companionship in his travels, and i often accompanied him as he was called up and down the coast. in 1886 i went to the boston may meeting in his company and found delight in both him and it. he was a good traveler, enjoying the change of scene and the contact with all sorts of people. he was courteous and friendly with strangers, meeting them on their own ground with sympathy and understanding. in his own home he was especially happy, and it was a great privilege to share his table-talk and hospitality, for he had a great fund of kindly humor and his speech was bright with homely metaphor and apt allusions. not only was he a great preacher, he was a leader, an inspirer, and a provoker of good. what it meant to fall under the influence of such a man cannot be told. supplementing the blessing was the association with a number of the best of men among the church adherents. hardly second to the great and unearned friendship of dr. stebbins was that of horace davis, ten years my senior, and very close to dr. stebbins in every way. he had been connected with the church almost from the first and was a firm friend of starr king. like dr. stebbins, he was a graduate of harvard. scholarly, and also able in business, he typified sound judgment and common sense, was conservative by nature, but fresh and vigorous of mind. he was active in the sunday-school. we also were associated in club life and as fellow directors of the lick school. our friendship was uninterrupted for more than fifty years. i had great regard for mrs. davis and many happy hours were passed in their home. her interpretation of beethoven was in my experience unequaled. it is impossible even to mention the many men of character and conscience who were a helpful influence to me in my happy church life. captain levi stevens was very good to me; c. adolphe low was one of the best men i ever knew; i had unbounded respect for horatio frost; dr. henry gibbons was very dear to me; and charles r. bishop i could not but love. these few represent a host of noble associates. i would i could mention more of them. [illustration: horatio stebbins. san francisco, 1864-1900] we all greatly enjoyed the meetings of a shakespeare club that was sustained for more than twelve consecutive years among congenial friends in the church. we read half a play every other week, devoting the latter part of the evening to impromptu charades, in which we were utterly regardless of dignity and became quite expert. at our annual picnics we joined in the enjoyment of the children. i recall my surprise and chagrin at having challenged mr. davis to a footrace at belmont one year, giving him distance as an age handicap, and finding that i had overestimated the advantage of ten years difference. in 1890 we established the unitarian club of california. mr. davis was the first president. for seventeen years it was vigorous and prosperous. we enjoyed a good waiting-list and twice raised the limit of membership numbers. it was then the only forum in the city for the discussion of subjects of public interest. many distinguished visitors were entertained. booker t. washington was greeted by a large audience and so were susan b. anthony and anna h. shaw. as time passed, other organizations afforded opportunity for discussion, and numerous less formal church clubs accomplished its purpose in a simpler manner. a feature of strength in our church has been the william and alice hinckley fund, established in 1879 by the will of captain william c. hinckley, under the counsel and advice of dr. stebbins. his wife had died, he had no children, and he wanted his property to be helpful to others. he appointed the then church trustees his executors and the trustees of an endowment to promote human beneficence and charity, especially commending the aged and lonely and the interests of education and religion. shortly after coming to san francisco, in 1850, he had bought a lot in bush street for sixty dollars. at the time of his death it was under lease to the california theater company at a ground rent of a thousand dollars a month. after long litigation, the will was sustained as to $52,000, the full proportion of his estate allowed for charity. i have served as secretary of the trust fund for forty years. i am also surviving trustee for a library fund of $10,000 and another charity fund of $5000. these three funds have earned in interest more than $105,000. we have disbursed for the purposes indicated $92,000, and have now on hand as capital more than $80,000, the interest on which we disburse annually. it has been my fortune to outlive the eight trustees appointed with me, and, also, eight since appointed to fill vacancies caused by death or removal. we worshiped in the geary and stockton church for more than twenty-three years, and then concluded it was time to move from a business district to a residential section. we sold the building with the lot that had cost $16,000 for $120,000, and at the corner of franklin and geary streets built a fine church, costing, lot included, $91,000. during construction we met in the synagogue emanu-el, and the sunday-school was hospitably entertained in the first congregational church, which circumstances indicate the friendly relations maintained by our minister, who never arraigned or engaged in controversy with any other household of faith. in 1889 the new church was dedicated, dr. hedge writing a fine hymn for the occasion. dr. stebbins generally enjoyed robust health, but in 1899 he was admonished that he must lay down the work he loved so well. in september of that year, at his own request, he was relieved from active service and elected minister emeritus. subsequently his health improved, and frequently he was able to preach; but in 1900, with his family, he returned to new england, where he lived with a good degree of comfort at cambridge, near his children, occasionally preaching, but gradually failing in health. he suffered severely at the last, and found final release on april 8, 1901. of the later history of the church i need say little. recollections root in the remote. for thirteen years we were served by rev. bradford leavitt, and for the past eight rev. caleb s.s. dutton has been our leader. the noble traditions of the past have been followed and the place in the community has been fully maintained. the church has been a steady and powerful influence for good, and many a life has been quickened, strengthened, and made more abundant through its ministry. to me it has been a never-failing source of satisfaction and happiness. i would also bear brief testimony to the sunday-school. all my life i had attended sunday-school,--the best available. i remember well the school in leominster and the stories told by deacon cotton and others. i remember nay teacher in boston. coming to california i took what i could get, first the little methodist gathering and then the more respectable presbyterian. when in early manhood i came to san francisco i entered the bible-class at once. the school was large and vigorous. the attendance was around four hundred. lloyd baldwin, an able lawyer, was my first teacher, and a good one, but very soon i was induced to take a class of small boys. they were very bright and too quick for a youth from the country. one sunday we chanced to have as a lesson the healing of the daughter of jairus. in the gospel account the final word was the injunction: "jesus charged them that they tell no man." in all innocence i asked the somewhat leading question: "what did jesus charge them?" quick as a flash one of the boys answered, "he didn't charge them a cent." it was so pat and so unexpected that i could not protest at the levity. in the sunday-school library i met charles w. wendte, then a clerk in the bank of california. he had been befriended and inspired by starr king and soon turned from business and studied for the ministry. he is now a d.d. and has a long record of valuable service. in 1869 j.c.a. hill became superintendent of the school and appointed me his assistant. four years later he returned to new hampshire, much to our regret, and i succeeded him. with the exception of the two years that rev. william g. eliot, jr., was assistant to dr. stebbins, and took charge of the school, i served until 1914. very many pleasant memories cluster around my connection with the sunday-school. the friendships made have been enduring. the beautiful young lives lured me on in service that never grew monotonous, and i have been paid over and over again for all i ever gave. it is a great satisfaction to feel that five of our nine church trustees are graduates of the sunday-school. i attended my first christmas festival of the sunday-school in platt's hall in 1864, and i have never missed one since. fifty-seven consecutive celebrations incidentally testify to unbroken health. in looking back on what i have gained from the church, i am impressed with the fact that the association with the fine men and women attending it has been a very important part of my life. good friends are of untold value, and inspiration is not confined to the spoken words of the minister. especially am i impressed with the stream of community helpfulness that has flowed steadily from our church all these years. i wish i dared to refer to individual instances--but they are too many. finally, i must content myself with acknowledgment of great obligation for all i have profited from and enjoyed in church affiliation. i cannot conceive how any man can afford not to avail himself of the privilege of standing by some church. as an investment i am assured that nothing pays better and surer interest. returns are liberal, dividends are never passed, and capital never depreciates. chapter ix by-product in the conduct of life we select, or have assigned, certain measures of activity upon which we rely for our support and the self-respect that follows the doing of our part. this we call our business, and if we are wise we attend to it and prosecute it with due diligence and application. but it is not all of life, and its claim is not the only call that is made upon us. exclusive interest and devotion to it may end in the sort of success that robs us of the highest value, so that, however much substance we accumulate, we are failures as men. on the other hand, we take risks if we slight its just demands and scatter our powers on miscellaneous interests. whatever its value, every man, in addition to what he primarily produces, turns out some by-product. if it is worth anything, he may be thankful and add the amount to total income. the extracts of which this chapter is composed are selections from the editorial columns of _the pacific unitarian_, submitted not as exhibits in the case of achievement, but as indicating the convictions i have formed on the way of life. the beginning thirty years ago, a fairly active sunday-school was instigated to publish a monthly journal, nominally for all the organizations of the first unitarian society. it was not expected to be of great benefit, except to the school. after a year and a half it was adopted by the conference, its modest name, _the guidon_, being expanded to _the pacific unitarian_. its number of pages was increased to thirty-two. probably the most remarkable circumstance connected with it is that it has lived. the fact that it has enjoyed the opportunity of choice between life and death is quite surprising. other journals have had to die. it has never been easy to live, or absolutely necessary to die. anyhow, we have the thirty years of life to look back upon and take satisfaction in. we are grateful for friends far and near, and generous commendation has been pleasant to receive, whether it has been justified or not. christianity we realize more and more truly that christianity in its spirit is a very different thing from christianity as a theological structure formulated by the makers of the creed. the amazing thing is that such a misconception of the message of jesus as has generally prevailed has given us a civilization so creditable. the early councils were incapable of being led by the spirit of jesus. they were prejudiced by their preconceptions of the character of god and the nature of religion, and evolved a scheme of salvation to fit past conceptions instead of accepting as real the love of god and of man that jesus added to the religion of his fathers. even the christianity they fashioned has not been fairly tried. the christianity that jesus proclaimed, a call to trust, to love, and spiritual life, has hardly been tried at all. we seem just to be awakening to what it is, and to its application to the art of living. the prodigal's father what a difference in the thought of god and in the joy of life would have followed had the hearers of jesus given the parable of the prodigal son its full significance! they would then have found in the happy, loving father and his full forgiveness of the son who "came to himself" a type of the heavenly father. the shadow of the olden fear still persists, chilling human life. we do not trust the love of god and bear life's burdens with cheerful courage. from lurking fear of the jealous king of hebrew tradition, we are even afraid to be happy when we might. we fail of faith in the reality of god's love. we forget the robe, the ring, the overflowing joy of the earthly father, not earned by the prodigal, but given from complete love. the thing best worth while is faith in the love of god. if it be lacking, perhaps the best way to gain it is to assume it--to act on the basis of its existence, putting aside our doubts, and giving whatever love we have in our own hearts a chance to strengthen. whitsuntide whitsuntide is a church season that too often fails to receive due acknowledgment or recognition. it is, in observance, a poor third. christmas is largely diverted to a giving of superfluous gifts, and is popular from the wide-felt interest in the happiness of children. easter we can not forget, for it celebrates the rising or the risen life, and is marked by the fresh beauty of a beautiful world. to appreciate the pentecostal season and to care for spiritual inspiration appeals to the few, and to those few on a higher plane. but of all that religion has to give, it represents the highest gift, and it has to do with the world's greatest need. spiritual life is the most precious of possessions, the highest attainment of humanity. happy are we if our better spirit be quickened, if our hearts be lifted up, and our wills be strengthened, that worthy life may bring peace and joy! why the church? we cannot deny the truth that the things of the spirit are of first importance; but when it comes to living we seem to belie our convictions. we live as though we thought the spirit a doubtful matter. there are those who take pride in calling themselves materialists, but they are hardly as hopeless as those who are so indifferent that they have no opinion whatever. the man who thinks and cares is quite apt to come out right, but the mindless animal who only enjoys develops no recognizable soul. the seeking first is not in derogation of any true manhood. it is the full life, the whole life, that we are to compass--but life subordinated and controlled by the spirit, the spirit that recognizes the distinction between right and wrong. those who choose the right and bend all else to it, are of the kingdom. that is all that righteousness means. the church has no monopoly of righteousness, but it is of immense importance in cultivating the religious spirit, and cannot safely be dispensed with. and so it must be strongly supported and made efficient. to those who know true values this is an investment that cannot safely be ignored. to it we should give generously of our money, but equally generously we should give ourselves--our presence, our co-operation, our loyal support of our leaders, our constant effort to hold it to high ideals. if it is to give life, it must have life, and whatever life it has is the aggregation of our collected and consecrated lives. the church called christian cannot win by holding its old trenches. it must advance to the line that stretches from our little fortress where the flag of reason and religion defiantly floats. shall we retreat? no; it is for us to hold the fort at all costs, not for our sake alone, but for the army of humanity. we believe in god and we believe in man. as president eliot lately put it, "we believe in the principles of a simple, practical, and democratic religion. we are meeting ignorance, not with contempt, but with knowledge. we are meeting dogmatism and superstition, not with impatience, but with truth. we are meeting sin and injustice, not with abuse, but with good-will and high idealism. we have the right message for our time." to the church that seems to us to most nearly realize these ideals, it is our bounden duty, and should be our glad privilege, to present ourselves a reasonable sacrifice, that we may do our part in bringing in god's kingdom. the church and progress reforms depend upon reformed men. perhaps the greater need is _formed_ men. as we survey the majority of men around us, they seem largely unconscious of what they really are and of the privileges and responsibilities that appertain to manhood. it must be that men are better, and more, than they seem. visit a baseball game or a movie. the crowds seem wholly irresponsible, and, except in the pleasure or excitement sought, utterly uninterested--apparently without principle or purpose. and yet, when called upon to serve their country, men will go to the ends of the world, and place no limit on the sacrifice freely made for the general good. they are better than they seem, and in ways we know not of possess a sense of justice and a love of right which they found we know not where. this is encouraging, but must not relieve us from doing our utmost to inform more fully every son of man of his great opportunity and responsibility, and also of inspiring him to use his life to his and our best advantage. it is so evident that world-welfare rests upon individual well-being that we cannot escape the conviction that the best thing any one of us can do is to help to make our fellow-men better and happier. and the part of wisdom is to organize for the power we gain. it would seem that the church should be the most effective agency for promoting individual worth and consequent happiness. is it?--and if not, why not? we are apt to say we live in a new age, forgetting how little change of form matters. human nature, with its instincts and desires, love of self, and the general enjoyment of, and through, possessions, is so little changed that differences in condition and circumstance have only a modifying influence. it is man, the man within, that counts--not his clothing. but it is true that human institutions do undergo great changes, and nothing intimate and important has suffered greater changes than the church. religion itself, vastly more important than the church, has changed and is changing. martineau's illuminating classification helps us to realize this. the first expression, the pagan, was based on fear and the idea of winning favor by purchase, giving something to god--it might be burnt-offerings--for his good-will. then came the jewish, the ethical, the thought of doing, rather than giving. righteousness earns god's favor. the higher conception blossomed into christianity with its trust in the love of god and of serving him and fellow-man, self-sacrifice being the highest expression of harmony with him. following this general advance from giving and doing to being, we have the altar, the temple, and the church. the genuine unitarian unitarians owe first allegiance to the kingdom of god on earth. it is of little consequence through which door it is entered. if any other is nearer or broader or more attractive, use it. we offer ours for those who prefer it or who find others not to be entered without a password they cannot pronounce. a unitarian who merely says he is one thereby gives no satisfactory evidence that he is. there are individuals who seem to think they are unitarians because they are nothing else. they regard unitarianism as the next to nothing in its requirement of belief, losing all sight of the fact that even one real belief exceeds, and may be more difficult than, many half-beliefs and hundreds of make-beliefs, and that a unitarian church made up of those who have discarded all they thought they believed and became unitarian for its bald negations is to be pitied and must be patiently nurtured. as regards our responsibility for the growth of unitarianism, we surely cannot fail to recognize it, but it should be clearly qualified by our recognition of the object in view. to regard unitarianism as an end to be pursued for its own sake does not seem compatible with its own true spirit. the church itself is an instrument, and we are in right relation when we give the unitarian church our preference, as, to us, the best instrument, while we hold first allegiance to the idealism for which it stands and to the goodness it seeks to unfold in the heart of man. nor would we seek growth at any sacrifice of high quality or purpose. we do not expect large numbers and great popular applause. unitarians are pioneers, and too independent and discriminating to stir the feverish pulse of the multitude. we seek the heights, and it is our concern to reach them and hold them for the few that struggle up. loaves and fishes we have not to offer, nor can we promise wealth and health as an attractive by-product of righteousness. there is no better service that anyone can render than to implant higher ideals in the breast of another. in the matter of religious education as sought through the ordinary sunday-school, no one who has had any practical experience has ever found it easy, or kept free from doubt as to its being sufficiently efficacious to make it worth while. but the problem is to recognize the difficulty, face all doubts, and stand by. perfect teachers are impossible, satisfactory ones are not always to be had. if they are not dissatisfied with themselves, they are almost always unfit. but as between doing the best you can and doing nothing at all, it would seem that self-respect and a sense of deep responsibility would leave no recourse. there is no place for a shirker or a quitter in a real unitarian church. have we done our work? now and then some indifferent unitarian expresses doubt as to the future value of our particular church. there are those who say, "why should we keep it up? have we not done our work?" we have seen our original protests largely effective, and rejoice that more liberal and generous, and, we believe, more just and true, religious convictions prevail; but have we been constructive and strengthening? and until we have made our own churches fully free and fruitful in spiritual life are we absolved from the call to service? have we earned our discharge from the army of life? shall we be deserters or slackers! we ask no man to fight with us if his loyalty to any other corps is stronger, but to fight _somewhere_--to do his part for god and his fellow-men wherever he can do the most effective service. we are not unitarians first. we are not even christians first. we are human first, seeking the best in humanity, in our appointed place in a civilization that finds its greatest inspiration in the leadership of jesus of nazareth, we are next christians, and we are finally unitarians because for us their point of view embodies most truly the spirit that animated his teachings and his life. and so we appeal to those who really, not nominally, are of our household of faith to feel that it is best worth while to stand by the nearest church and to support it generously, that it may do its part in soul service and world welfare, and also to encourage it and give it more abundant life through attendance and participation in its activities. of first importance it is well for each soul, in the multiplicity of questions besetting him, to deliberately face them and determine what is of first importance. aspects are so diverse and bewildering that if we do not reduce them to some order, giving them rank, we are in danger of becoming purposeless drifters on the sea of life. what is the most important thing in life? what shall be our aim and purpose, as we look about us, observing our fellows--what they have accomplished and what they are--what commends itself to us as best worth while? and what course can we pursue to get the most and the best out of it? we find a world of infinite diversity in conditions, in aims, and in results. one of the most striking differences is in regard to what we call success. we are prone to conclude that he who is prosperous in the matter of having is the successful man. possessing is the proof of efficiency, and he who possesses little has measurably failed in the main object of life. this conclusion has a measure of truth, but is not wholly true. we see not a few instances of utter poverty of life concurrent with great possessions, and are forced to conclude that the real value of possessions is dependent on what they bring us. merely to have is of no advantage. indeed it may be a burden or a curse. happiness is at least desirable, but it has no necessary connection with property accumulations. they may make it possible, but they never insure it. possession may be an incident, but seldom is a cause. if we follow this thought further we shall find that in the accepted methods of accumulation arise many of the causes of current misery and unhappiness. generally he who is said to succeed pays a price, and a large one, for the prosperity he achieves. to be conspicuously successful commonly involves a degree of selfishness that is almost surely damaging. often injustice and unfairness are added to the train of factors, and dishonesty and absence of decency give the finishing touch. every dollar tinged with doubt is a moral liability. if it has been wrested from its rightful owner through fraud or force of opportunity, it would better be at the bottom of the sea. the best in life the power and practical irresponsibility of money have ruined many a man, and the misuse of wealth has left unused immense opportunity for good. it has coined a word that has become abhorrent, and "capitalism" has, in the minds of the suspicious, become the all-sufficient cause of everything deplorable in human conditions. no true-hearted observer can conclude that the first consideration of life should be wealth. on the other hand, no right-minded person will ignore the desirability and the duty of judiciously providing the means for a reasonable degree of comfort and self-respect, with a surplus for the furtherance of human welfare in general, and the relief of misfortune and suffering. thrift is a virtue; greed is a vice. reasonable possession is a commendable and necessary object. the unrestrained avarice that today is making cowards of us all is an unmeasured curse, a world-wide disgrace that threatens civilization. in considering ends of life we cannot ignore those who consider happiness as adequate. perhaps there are few who formulate this, but there are many who seem to give it practical assent. they apparently conform their lives to this butterfly estimate, and, in the absence of any other purpose, rest satisfied. happiness is indeed a desirable condition, and in the highest sense, where it borders on blessedness, may be fairly termed "the end and aim of being." but on the lower stretches of the senses, where it becomes mere enjoyment or pleasure, largely concerned with amusement and self-indulgence of various sorts, it becomes parasitic, robbing life of its strength and flavor and preventing its development and full growth. it is insidious in its deterioration and omnivorous in its appetite. it tends to habits that undermine and to the appropriation of a preponderating share of the valueless things of life. the danger is in the unrestrained appetite, in intemperance that becomes habit. pleasure is exhausting of both purse and mind. we naturally crave pleasant experiences, and we need a certain amount of relaxation. the danger is in overindulgence and indigestion resulting in spiritual invalidism. let us take life sanely, accepting pleasures gratefully but moderately. but what _is_ best in life? why, life itself. life is opportunity. here it is, around us, offered to us. we are free to take what we can or what we like. we have the great privilege of choice, and life's ministry to us depends on what we take and what we leave. we are providentially assigned our place, whatever it is, but in no fixed sense of its being final and unalterable. the only obligation implied is that of acceptance until it can be bettered. our moral responsibility is limited to our opportunity, and the vital question is the use we make of it. the great fact of life is that we are spiritual beings. religion has to do with soul existence and is the field of its development. it is concerned primarily with being and secondly with doing. it is righteousness inspired by love. it is recognition of our responsibilities to do god's will. hence the best life is that which accepts life as opportunity, and faithfully, happily seeks to make the most of it. it seeks to follow the right, and to do the best it can, in any circumstances. it accepts all that life offers, enjoying in moderation its varied gifts, but in restraint of self-indulgence, and with kindly consideration of others. it subordinates its impulses to the apprehended will of god, bears trials with fortitude, and trusts eternal good. overcoming obstacles one of the most impressive sights in the natural world is the difficulties resisted and overcome by a tree in its struggle for life. on the very summit of the sentinel dome, over eight thousand feet above sea-level, there is rooted in the apparently solid granite a lone pine two feet in diameter. it is not tall, for its struggle with the wind and snow has checked its aspirations, but it is sturdy and vigorous, while the wonder is that it ever established and maintained life at all. where it gains its nourishment is not apparent. disintegrated granite seems a hard diet, but it suffices, for the determined tree makes the best of the opportunities offered. like examples abound wherever a crevice holds any soil whatever. in a niche of el capitan, more than a thousand feet from the valley's floor, grows a tree a hundred feet high. a strong glass shows a single tree on the crest of half dome. such persistence is significant, and it enforces a lesson we very much need. reason should not be behind instinct in making the most of life. while man is less rigidly conditioned and may modify his environment, he, too, may nourish his life by using to the full whatever nutriment is offered. lincoln has been characterized as a man who made the most of his life. perhaps his greatness consisted mostly in that. we are inclined to blame conditions and circumstances for failures that result from our lack of effort. we lack in persistence, we resent disparity in the distribution of talents, we blink at responsibility, and are slothful and trifling. our life is a failure from lack of will. who are we that we should complain that life is hard, or conclude that it is not better so? why do we covet other opportunities instead of doing the best with those we have? what is the glory of life but to accept it with such satisfaction as we can command, to enjoy what we have a right to, and to use all it offers for its upbuilding and fulfillment? being right how evident it is that much more than good intentions is needed in one who would either maintain self-respect or be of any use in his daily life! it is not easy to be good, but it is often less easy to be right. it involves an understanding that presupposes both ability and effort. intelligence, thinking, often studious consideration, are necessary to give a working hypothesis of what is best. it is seldom that anything is so simple that without careful thought we can be sure that one course is right and another wrong. perhaps, after we have weighed all that is ponderable, we can only determine which seems the better course of action. being good may help our judgment. doing right is the will of god. patriotism "let us have faith that right makes might, and in that faith let us to the end dare to do our duty as we understand it." abraham lincoln had a marvelous aptitude for condensed statement, and in this compact sentence from his cooper union address expresses the very essence of the appeal that is made to us today. we can find no more fundamental slogan and no nobler one. whatever the circumstances presented and whatever the immediate result will be, we are to dare to do our duty as we understand it. and we are so to dare and so to do in complete faith that right makes might and in utter disregard of fear that might may triumph. the only basis of true courage is faith, and our trust must be in right, in good, in god. we live in a republic that sustains itself through the acceptance by all of the will of the majority, and to talk of despotism whenever the authority necessary for efficiency is exercised, and that with practically unanimous concurrence, is wholly unreasonable. a man who cannot yield allegiance to the country in which he lives should either be silent and inactive or go to some country where his sympathy corresponds with his loyalty. chapter x concerning persons as years increase we more and more value the personal and individual element in human life. character becomes the transcendent interest and friends are our chief assets. as i approach the end of my story of memories i feel that the most interesting feature of life has been the personal. i wish i had given more space to the people i have known. fortune has favored me with friends worth mentioning and of acquaintances, some of whom i must introduce. of horatio stebbins, the best friend and strongest influence of my life, i have tried to express my regard in a little book about to be published by the houghton mifflin company of boston. it will be procurable from our san francisco unitarian headquarters. that those who may not see it may know something of my feeling, i reprint a part of an editorial written when he died. horatio stebbins the thoughts that cluster around the memory of horatio stebbins so fill the mind that nothing else can be considered until some expression is made of them, and yet the impossibility of any adequate statement is so evident that it seems hopeless to begin. the event of his death was not unexpected. it has been imminent and threatening for years. his feebleness and the intense suffering of his later days relieve the grief that must be felt, and there springs by its side gratitude that rest and peace have come to him. and yet to those who loved him the world seems not quite the same since he has gone from it. there is an underlying feeling of something missing, of loss not to be overcome, that must be borne to the end. in my early boyhood horatio stebbins was "the preacher from fitchburg"--original in manner and matter, and impressive even to a boy. ten years passed, and our paths met in san francisco. from the day he first stood in the historic pulpit as successor of that gifted preacher and patriot, starr king, till his removal to cambridge, few opportunities for hearing him were neglected by me. his influence was a great blessing, association with him a delight, his example an inspiration, and his love the richest of undeserved treasures. dr. stebbins was ever the kindliest of men, and his friendliness and consideration were not confined to his social equals. without condescension, he always had a kind word for the humblest people. he was as gentlemanly and courteous to a hackdriver as he would be to a college president. none ever heard him speak severely or impatiently to a servant. he was considerate by nature, and patient from very largeness. he never harbored an injury, and by his generosity and apparent obliviousness or forgetfulness of the unpleasant past he often put to shame those who had wronged him. he was at times stern, and was always fearless in uttering what he felt to be the truth, whether it was to meet with favor or with disapproval from his hearers. as a friend he was loyalty itself, and for the slightest service he was deeply appreciative and grateful. he was the most charitable of men, and was not ashamed to admit that he had often been imposed upon. of his rank as a thinker and a preacher i am not a qualified judge, but he surely was great of heart and strong of mind. he was a man of profound faith, and deeply religious in a strong, manly way. he inspired others by his trust and his unquestioned belief in the reality of spiritual things. he never did anything for effect; his words fell from his lips in tones of wonderful beauty to express the thought and feeling that glowed within. noble man, great preacher, loving friend! thou art not dead, but translated to that higher life of which no doubt ever entered thy trusting mind! horace davis horace davis was born in worcester, massachusetts, on march 16, 1831. his father was john davis, who served as governor of massachusetts and as united states senator. his mother was the daughter of rev. aaron bancroft, one of the pioneers of the unitarian ministry. horace davis graduated at harvard in the class of 1849. he began the study of the law, but his eyes failed, and in 1852 he came to california to seek his fortune. he first tried the mines, starting a store at shaw's flat. when the venture failed he came to san francisco and sought any employment to be found. he began by piling lumber, but when his cousin, isaac davis, found him at it he put him aboard one of his coasting schooners as supercargo. being faithful and capable, he was sought by the pacific mail steamship company, and was for several years a good purser. he and his brother george had loaned their savings to a miller, and were forced to take over the property. mr. davis become the accepted authority on wheat and the production of flour, and enjoyed more than forty years of leadership in the business which he accidentally entered. he was always a public-spirited citizen, and in 1877 was elected to congress, serving for two terms. he proved too independent and unmanageable for the political leaders of the time and was allowed to return to private life. in 1887 he was urged to accept the presidency of the university of california, and for three years he discharged the duties of the office with credit. his interest in education was always great, and he entered with ardor and intelligence into the discharge of his duties as a trustee of the school of mechanical arts established by the will of james lick. as president of the board, he guided its course, and was responsible for the large plan for co-operation and co-ordination by which, with the wilmerding school and the lux school (of which he was also a leading trustee), a really great endowed industrial school under one administrative management has been built up in san francisco. a large part of his energy was devoted to this end, and it became the strongest desire of his life to see it firmly established. he also served for many years as a trustee for stanford university, and for a time was president of the board. to the day of his death (in july, 1916) he was active in the affairs of stanford, and was also deeply interested in the university of california. the degree of ll.d. was conferred by the university of the pacific, by harvard, and by the university of california. from his earliest residence in san francisco he was a loyal and devoted supporter of the first unitarian church and of its sunday-school. for over sixty years he had charge of the bible-class, and his influence for spiritual and practical christianity has been very great. he gave himself unsparingly for the cause of religious education, and never failed to prepare himself for his weekly ministration. for eight years he served on the board of trustees of the church and for seven years was moderator of the board. under the will of captain hinckley he was made a trustee of the william and alice hinckley fund, and for thirty-seven years took an active interest in its administration. at the time of his death he was its president. he was deeply interested in the pacific unitarian school for the ministry, and contributed munificently to its foundation and maintenance. mr. davis preserved his youth by the breadth of his sympathies. he seemed to have something in common with everyone he met; was young with the young. in his talks to college classes he was always happy, with a simplicity and directness that attracted close attention, and a sense of humor that lighted up his address. his domestic life was very happy. his first wife, the daughter of captain macondray, for many years an invalid, died in 1872. in 1875 he married edith king, the only daughter of thomas starr king, a woman of rare personal gifts, who devoted her life to his welfare and happiness. she died suddenly in 1909. mr. davis, left alone, went steadily on. his books were his constant companions and his friends were always welcome. he would not own that he was lonely. he kept occupied; he had his round of duties, attending to his affairs, and the administration of various benevolent trusts, and he had a large capacity for simple enjoyments. he read good books; he was hospitably inclined; he kept in touch with his old associates; he liked to meet them at luncheon at the university club or at the monthly dinner of the chit-chat club, which he had seldom missed in thirty-nine years of membership. he was punctilious in the preparation of his biennial papers, always giving something of interest and value. his intellectual interest was wide. he was a close student of shakespeare, and years ago printed a modest volume on the sonnets. he also published a fine study of the ministry of jesus, and a discriminating review of the american constitutions. mr. davis was a man of profound religious feeling. he said little of it, but it was a large part of his life. on his desk was a volume of dr. stebbins' prayers, the daily use of which had led to the reading again and again of the book he very deeply cherished. he was the most loyal of friends--patient, appreciative beyond deserts, kindly, and just. the influence for good of such a man is incalculable. one who makes no pretense of virtue, but simply lives uprightly as a matter of course, who is genuine and sound, who does nothing for effect, who shows simple tastes, and is not greedy for possessions, but who looks out for himself and his belongings in a prudent, self-respecting way, who takes what comes without complaint, who believes in the good and shows it by his daily course, who is never violent and desperate, but calmly tries to do his part to make his fellows happier and the world better, who trusts in god and cheerfully bears the trials that come, who holds on to life and its opportunities, without repining if he be left to walk alone, and who faces death with the confidence of a child who trusts in a father's love and care--such a man is blessed himself and is a blessing to his fellow-men. a memory of emerson in 1871 ralph waldo emerson visited california. he was accompanied by his daughter ellen, and seemed thoroughly to enjoy the new scenes and new experiences. he visited the yosemite valley and other points of interest, and was persuaded to deliver a number of lectures. his first appearance before a california audience was at the unitarian church, then in geary street near stockton, on a sunday evening, when he read his remarkable essay on "immortality," wherein he spoke of people who talk of eternity and yet do not know what to do with a day. the church was completely filled and the interest to hear him seemed so great that it was determined to secure some week-day lectures if possible. in company with horace davis, who enjoyed his acquaintance, i called on him at the occidental hotel. he was the most approachable of men--as simple and kindly in his manner as could be imagined, and putting one at ease with that happy faculty which only a true gentleman possesses. [illustration: horace davis--fifty years a friend] [illustration: harvard university when he entered] his features are familiar from the many published pictures, but no one who had not met his smiling eyes can realize the charm of his personality. his talk was delightfully genial. i asked him if his journey had been wearisome. "not at all," he replied; "i have enjoyed it all." the scenery seemed to have impressed him deeply. "when one crosses your mountains," he said, "and sees their wonderful arches, one discovers how architecture came to be invented." when asked if he could favor us with some lectures, he smiled and said: "well, my daughter thought you might want something of that kind, and put a few in my trunk, in case of an emergency." when it came to dates, it was found that he was to leave the next day for a short trip to the geysers, and it was difficult to arrange the course of three, which had been fixed upon, after his return. it was about eleven o'clock when we called. i asked him if he could give us one of the lectures that evening. he smiled and said, "oh, yes," adding, "i don't know what you can do here, but in boston we could not expect to get an audience on such short notice." we assured him that we felt confident in taking the chances on that. going at once to the office of the _evening bulletin,_ we arranged for a good local notice, and soon had a number of small boys distributing announcements in the business streets. the audience was a good one in point of numbers, and a pleased and interested one. his peculiar manner of reading a few pages, and then shuffling his papers, as though they were inextricably mixed, was embarrassing at first, but when it was found that he was not disturbed by it, and that it was not the result of an accident, but a characteristic manner of delivery, the audience withheld its sympathy and rather enjoyed the novelty and the feeling of uncertainty as to what would come next. one little incident of the lecture occasioned an admiring smile. a small bunch of flowers had been placed on the reading-desk, and by some means, in one of his shuffles, they were tipped over and fell forward to the floor. not at all disconcerted, he skipped nimbly out of the pulpit, picked up the flowers, put them back in the vase, replaced it on the desk, and went on with the lecture as though nothing had happened. he was much interested in the twenty-dollar gold pieces in which he was paid, never before having met with that form of money. his encouraging friendliness of manner quite removed any feeling that a great man's time was being wasted through one's intercourse. he gossiped pleasantly of men and things as though talking with an equal. on one occasion he seemed greatly to enjoy recounting how cleverly james russell lowell imitated alfred tennyson's reading of his own poems. over the sunday-school of our church starr king had provided a small room where he could retire and gain seclusion. it pleased emerson. he said, "i think i should enjoy a study beyond the orbit of the servant girl." he was as self-effacing a man as i ever knew, and the most agreeable to meet. after his return from his short trip he gave two or three more lectures, with a somewhat diminishing attendance. dr. stebbins remarked in explanation, "i thought the people would tire in the sockets of their wings if they attempted to follow _him_." at this distance, i can remember little that he said, but no distance of time or space can ever dim the delight i felt in meeting him, or the impression formed of a most attractive, penetrating, and inspiring personality. his kindliness and geniality were unbounded. during our arrangement of dates mr. davis smiled as he said of one suggested by mr. emerson, "that would not be convenient for mr. murdock, for it is the evening of his wedding." he did not forget it. after the lecture, a few days later, he turned to me and asked, "is she here?" when i brought my flattered wife, he chatted with her familiarly, asking where she had lived before coming to california, and placing her wholly at ease. every tone of his voice and every glance of his eye suggested the most absolute serenity. he seemed the personification of calm wisdom. nothing disturbed him, nothing depressed him. he was as serene and unruffled as a morning in june. he radiated kindliness from a heart at peace with all mankind. his gentleness of manner was an illustration of the possibility of beauty in conduct. he was wholly self-possessed--to imagine him in a passion would be impossible. his word was searching, but its power was that of the sunbeam and not of the blast. he was above all teapot tempests, a strong, tender, fearless, trustful _man_. julia ward howe julia ward howe is something more than a noble memory. she has left her impress on her time, and given a new significance to womanhood. to hear the perfect music of the voice of so cultivated a woman is something of an education, and to have learned how gracious and kindly a great nature really is, is an experience well worth cherishing. mrs. howe was wonderfully alive to a wide range of interests--many-sided and sympathetic. she could take the place of a minister and speak effectively from deep conviction and a wide experience, or talk simply and charmingly to a group of school-children. when some years later than her san francisco visit she spoke at a king's chapel meeting in boston, growing feebleness was apparent, but the same gracious spirit was undimmed. later pictures have been somewhat pathetic. we do not enjoy being reminded of mortality in those of pre-eminent spirit, but what a span of events and changes her life records, and what a part in it all she had borne! when one ponders on the inspiring effect of the battle hymn of the republic, and of the arms it nerved and the hearts it strengthened, and on the direct blows she struck for the emancipation of woman, it seems that there has been abundant answer to her prayer, "as he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free." timothy h. rearden in glancing back, i can think of no more charming man than timothy rearden. he had a most attractive personality, combining rare intelligence and kindly affection with humor and a modesty that left him almost shy. he was scholarly and brilliant, especially in literature and languages. his essays and studies in greek attracted world-acknowledgment, but at home he was known chiefly as a genial, self-effacing lawyer, not ambitious for a large practice and oblivious of position, but happy in his friends and in delving deep into whatever topic in the world of letters engaged his interest. he was born in ohio in 1839 and graduated from the cleveland high school and from kenyon college. he served in the civil war and came to california in 1866. he was a fellow-worker with bret harte in the mint, and also on the _overland monthly_, contributing "favoring female conventualism" to the first number. he was a sound lawyer, but hid with his elders until 1872, when he opened his own office. he was not a pusher, but his associates respected and loved him, so that when in 1883 the governor was called upon to appoint a judge, and, embarrassed by the number of candidates, he called upon the bar association to recommend someone, they took a vote and two-thirds of them named rearden. he served on the bench for eight years. he was a favorite member of the chit-chat club for many years and wrote many brilliant essays, a volume of which was printed in 1893. the first two he gave were "francis petrarch" and "burning sappho." among the most charming was "ballads and lyrics," which was illustrated by the equally charming singing of representative selections by mrs. ida norton, the only time in its history when the club was invaded by a woman. its outside repetition was clamored for, and as the judge found a good excuse in his position and its requirements, he loaned the paper and i had the pleasure of substituting for him. when i was a candidate for the legislature he issued a card that was a departure from political methods. it was during the time when all the names were submitted on the ballot and voters crossed off those they did not want to win. he sent his friends a neat card, as follows: charles a. murdock (_of c.a. murdock & co., 532 clay street_) is one of the republican candidates for the assembly from the tenth senatorial district if you prefer any candidate on any other ticket, scratch murdock. if you require any pledge other than that he will vote according to his honest convictions, scratch murdock. his friend, ambrose bierce, spoke of him as the most scholarly man on the pacific coast. he was surely among the most modest and affectionate. he had remarkable poetic gifts. in 1892 the thomas post of the grand army of the republic held a memorial service, and he contributed a poem beginning: "life's fevered day declines; its purple twilight falling draws length'ning shadows from the broken flanks; and from the column's head a viewless chief is calling: 'guide right; close up your ranks!'" he was ill when it was read. a week from the day of the meeting the happy, well-loved man breathed his last. john muir john muir, naturalist, enthusiast, writer, glorifier of the sierras, is held in affectionate memory the world over, but especially in california, where he was known as a delightful personality. real pleasure and a good understanding of his nature and quality await those who read of the meeting of emerson and muir in the yosemite in 1871. it is recorded in their diaries. he was a very rare and versatile man. it was my good fortune to sit by him at a dinner on his return from alaska, where he had studied its glaciers, and had incidentally been honored by having its most characteristic one named after him. he was tremendously impressed by the wonder and majesty of what he had seen, but it in no wise dimmed his enthusiasm for the beauty and glory of the sierra nevada. in speaking of the exquisite loveliness of a mountain meadow he exclaimed: "i could conceive it no punishment to be staked out for a thousand years on one of those meadows." his tales of experiences in the high sierra, where he spent days alone and unarmed, with nothing but tea and a few breadcrusts to sustain him, were most thrilling. i was afterward charmed by his sketch of an adventure with a dog called "stickeen," on one of the great alaskan glaciers, and, meeting him, urged that he make a little book of it. he was pleased and told me he had just done it. late in life he was shocked at what he considered the desecration of the hetch-hetchy valley by the city of san francisco, which sought to dam it and form a great lake that should forever furnish a supply of water and power. he came to my office to supervise the publication of the _sierra club bulletin_, and we had a spirited but friendly discussion of the matter, i being much interested as a supervisor of the city. as a climax he exclaimed, "why, if san francisco ever gets the hetch-hetchy i shall _swear_, even if i am in heaven." george holmes howison among the many beneficent acts of horatio stebbins in his distinguished ministry in san francisco was his influence in the establishment of the chair of moral philosophy in the university of california. it was the gift of d.o. mills, who provided the endowment on the advice of dr. stebbins. the first occupant appointed was professor howison, who from 1884 to 1912 happily held a fruitful term. he was admirably fitted for his duties, and with the added influence of the philosophical union contributed much to the value of the university. a genial and kindly man, with a keen sense of humor, he was universally and deeply respected by the students and by his associates. he made philosophy almost popular, and could differ utterly from others without any of the common results of antagonism, for he generated so much more light than heat. his mind was so stored that when he began to speak there seemed to be no reason aside from discretion why he should ever stop. i enjoyed to the full one little business incident with him. in my publications i followed a somewhat severe style of typography, especially priding myself on the possession of a complete series of genuine old-style faces cast in philadelphia from moulds cut a hundred and seventy years ago. in these latter days a few bold men have tried to improve on this classic. one ronaldson especially departed from the simplicity and dignity of the cut approved by caxton, aldus, and elzevir, and substituted for the beautiful terminal of, say the capital t, two ridiculous curled points. i resented it passionately, and frequently remarked that a printer who would use ronaldson old-style would not hesitate to eat his pie with a knife. one day professor howison (i think his dog "socrates" was with him) came into my office and inquired if i had a cut of old-style type that had curved terminals on the capital ts. i had no idea why he asked the question; i might have supposed that he wanted the face, but i replied somewhat warmly that i had not, that i had never allowed it in the shop, to which he replied with a chuckle, "good! i was afraid i might get them." professor howison furnished one of the best stories of the great earthquake of 1906. in common with most people, he was in bed at fourteen minutes past five on the 18th of april. while victims generally arose and dressed more or less, the professor calmly remained between the sheets, concluding that if he was to die the bed would be the most fitting and convenient place to be in. it took more than a full-grown earthquake to disturb his philosophy. josiah royce it is doubtful if any son of california has won greater recognition than josiah royce, born in grass valley in november, 1855. in 1875 he graduated at the university of california. after gaining his ph.d. at johns hopkins, he returned to his _alma mater_ and for four years was instructor in english literature and logic. he joined the chit-chat club in 1879 and continued a member until his removal to harvard in 1882. he was a brilliant and devoted member, with a whimsical wit and entire indifference to fit of clothes and general personal appearance. he was eminently good-natured and a very clever debater. with all the honors heaped upon him, he never forgot his youthful associates. at a reunion held in 1916 he sent this friendly message to the club: "have warmest memories of olden time. send heartiest greetings to all my fellow members. i used to be a long-winded speaker in chit-chat, but my love far outlasts my speeches. you inspired my youth. you make my older years glow." in my youthful complacency i had the audacity to print an essay on "the policy of protection," taking issue with most of my brother members, college men and free-traders. later, while on a visit to california, he told me, with a twinkle in his eye, "i am using your book at harvard as an example of logic." he died honored everywhere as america's greatest philosopher, one of the world's foremost thinkers, and withal a very lovable man. charles gordon ames in the early days rev. charles gordon ames preached for a time in santa cruz. later he removed to san jose, and occasionally addressed san francisco audiences. he was original and witty and was in demand for special occasions. in an address at a commencement day at berkeley, i heard him express his wonder at being called upon, since he had matriculated at a wood-pile and graduated in a printing-office. several years after he had returned east i was walking with him in boston. we met one of his friends, who said, "how are you, ames?" "why, i'm still at large, and have lucid intervals," replied the witty preacher. he once told me of an early experience in candidating. he was asked to preach in worcester, where there was a vacancy. next day he met a friend who told him the results, saying: "you seem to have been fortunate in satisfying both the radicals and the conservatives. but your language was something of a surprise; it does not follow the usual harvard type, and does not seem ministerial. you used unaccustomed illustrations. you spoke of something being as slow as molasses. now, so far as i know, molasses is not a scriptural word. honey is mentioned in the bible, but not molasses." joaquin miller the passing of joaquin miller removed from california her most picturesque figure. in his three-score and twelve years he found wide experience, and while his garb and habits were somewhat theatrical he was a strong character and a poet of power. in some respects he was more like walt whitman than any other american poet, and in vigor and grasp was perhaps his equal. of california authors he is the last of the acknowledged leading three, harte and clemens completing the group. for many years he lived with his wife and daughter at "the heights," in the foothills back of oakland, writing infrequently, but with power and insight. his "columbus" will probably be conceded to be his finest poem, and one of the most perfect in the language. he held his faculties till the last, writing a few days before his death a tender message of faith in the eternal. with strong unconventionality and a somewhat abrupt manner, he was genial and kindly in his feelings, with warm affections and great companionability. an amusing incident of many years ago comes back to freshen his memory. an entertainment of a social character was given at the oakland unitarian church, and when my turn came for a brief paper on wit and humor i found that joaquin miller sat near me on the platform. as an illustration of parody, bordering on burlesque, i introduced a miller imitation--the story of a frontiersman on an arizona desert accompanied by a native woman of "bare, brown beauty," and overtaken by heat so intense that but one could live, whereupon, to preserve the superior race, he seized a huge rock and "crushed with fearful blow her well-poised head." it was highly audacious, and but for a youthful pride of authorship and some curiosity as to how he would take it i should have omitted it. friends in the audience told me that the way in which i watched him from the corner of my eye was the most humorous thing in the paper. at the beginning his head was bowed, and for some time he showed no emotion of any sort, but as i went on and it grew worse and worse, he gave way to a burst of merriment and i saw that i was saved. i was gratified then, and his kindliness brings a little glow of good-will--that softens my farewell. mark twain of mark twain my memory is confined to two brief views, both before he had achieved his fame. one was hearing him tell a story with his inimitable drawl, as he stood smoking in front of a montgomery street cigar-store, and the other when on his return from a voyage to the hawaiian islands he delivered his famous lecture at the academy of music. it was a marvelous address, in which with apparently no effort he led his audience to heights of appreciative enthusiasm in the most felicitous description of the beautiful and wonderful things he had seen, and then dropped them from the sublime to the ridiculous by some absurd reference or surprisingly humorous reflection. the sharp contrast between his incomparably beautiful word paintings and his ludicrous humor was characteristic of two sides of the waggish newspaper reporter who developed into a good deal of a philosopher and the first humorist of his time. sheldon gaylord kellogg among my nearest friends i am proud to count sheldon g. kellogg, associated through both the unitarian church, the sunday-school, and the chit-chat club. he was a lawyer with a large and serviceable conscience as well as a well-trained mind. he grew to manhood in the middle west, graduated in a small methodist college, and studied deeply in germany. he came to san francisco, establishing himself in practice without acquaintance, and by sheer ability and character compelled success. his integrity and thoroughness were beyond any question. he went to the root of any matter that arose. he was remarkably well read and a passionate lover of books. he was exact and accurate in his large store of information. dr. stebbins, in his delightful extravagance, once said to mrs. kellogg, "your husband is the only man i'm afraid of--he knows so much." at the chit-chat no one dared to hazard a doubtful statement of fact. if it was not so, kellogg would know it. he was the most modest of men and would almost hesitate to quote the last census report to set us right, but such was our respect for him that his statements were never questioned; he inspired complete confidence. i remember an occasion when the supreme court of the state, or a department of it, had rendered an opinion setting aside a certain sum as the share of certain trustees. kellogg was our attorney. he studied the facts and the decision until he was perfectly sure the court had erred and that he could convince them of it. we applied for a hearing in bank and he was completely sustained. kellogg was an eminently fair man. he took part in a political convention on one occasion and was elected chairman. there was a bitter fight between contending factions, but kellogg was so just in his rulings that both sides were satisfied and counted him friendly. he was a lovable personality and the embodiment of honor. he was studious and scholarly and always justified our expectation of an able, valuable paper on whatever topic he treated. i do not recall that in all my experience i have ever known any other man so unreservedly and universally respected. joseph worcester it is a salutary experience to see the power of goodness, to know a man whose loveliness of life and character exerts an influence beyond the reach of great intellectual gift or conscious effort. joseph worcester was a modest, shrinking swedenborgian minister. his congregation was a handful of refined mystics who took no prominent part in public affairs and were quiet and unobtrusive citizens. he was not attractive as a preacher, his voice trembled with emotion and bashfulness, and he read with difficulty. he was painfully shy, and he was oppressed and suffered in a crowd. he was unmarried and lived by himself in great simplicity. he seemed to sustain generally good health on tea, toast, and marmalade, which at noonday he often shared with his friend william keith, the artist. he was essentially the gentle man. in public speaking his voice never rang out with indignation. he preserved the conversational tone and seemed devoid of passion and severity. he was patient, kind, and loving. he had humor, and a pleasant smile generally lighted up his benignant countenance. he was often playfully indignant. i remember that at one time an aesthetic character named russell addressed gatherings of society people advising them what they should throw out of their over-furnished rooms. in conversation with mr. worcester i asked him how he felt about it. he replied, "i know what i should throw out--mr. russell." it was so incongruous to think of the violence implied in mr. worcester's throwing out anything that it provoked a hearty laugh. yet there was no weakness in his kindliness. he was simply "slow to wrath," not acquiescent with wrong. his strength was not that of the storm, but of the genial shower and the smiling sun. his heart was full of love and everybody loved him. his hold was through the affections and his blissful unselfishness. he seemed never to think of himself at all. he thought very effectually of others. he was helpfulness incarnate, and since he was influential, surprising results followed. he was fond of children and gave much time to the inmates of the protestant orphan asylum, conducting services and reading to them. they grew very fond of him, and his influence on them was naturally great. he was much interested in the education of the boys and in their finding normal life. he took up especially the providing for them of a home where they could live happily and profitably while pursuing a course of study in the california school of mechanical arts. an incident of his efforts in their behalf illustrates what an influence he had gained in the community. a young man of wealth, not a member of his congregation and not considered a philanthropist, but conversant with what mr. worcester was doing and hoped to do, called upon him one day and said: "mr. worcester, here is a key that i wish to leave with you. i have taken a safe-deposit box; it has two keys. one i will keep to open the box and put in bonds from time to time, and the other i give you that you may open it and use coupons or bonds in carrying out your plans for helping the boys." this illustrates how he was loved and what good he provoked in others. without knowing it or seeking it he was a great community influence. he was gifted of the spirit. he had beauty of character, simplicity, unselfishness, love of god and his fellow-men. his special beliefs interested few, his life gave life, his goodness was radiant. he drew all men to him by his love, and he showed them the way. frederick lucian hosmer i cannot forego the pleasure of referring with sincere affection to my brother octogenarian, frederick l. hosmer. he achieved the fullness of honor two months in advance of me, which is wholly fitting, since we are much farther separated in every other regard. he has been a leader for a great many years, and i am proud to be in sight of him. his kindly friendship has long been one of the delights of my life, and i have long entertained the greatest respect and admiration for his ability and quality. as a writer of hymns he has won the first place in the world's esteem, and probably his noble verse is (after the psalms) the most universally used expression of the religious feeling of mankind. more worshipers unite in singing his hymns, unitarian though he be, than those of any other man, living or dead. it is a great distinction, and in meriting it he holds enviable rank as one of the world's greatest benefactors. yet he remains the most modest of men, with no apparent consciousness that he is great. his humility is an added charm and his geniality is beautiful. he has made the most of a fancied resemblance to me, and in many delightful ways has indulged in pleasantries based on it. in my room hangs a framed photograph signed "faithfully yours, chas. a. murdock." it is far better-looking than i ever was--but that makes no difference. we were once at a conference at seattle. he said with all seriousness, "murdock, i want you to understand that i intend to exercise great circumspection in my conduct, and i rely upon you to do the same." i greatly enjoyed dr. hosmer's party, with its eighty candles, and i was made happy that he could be at mine and nibble my cake. not all good and great men are so thoroughly lovable. thomas lamb eliot when horatio stebbins in 1864 assumed charge of the san francisco church he was the sole representative of the denomination on the pacific coast. for years he stood alone,--a beacon-like tower of liberalism. the first glimmer of companionship came from portland, oregon. at the solicitation of a few earnest unitarians dr. stebbins went to portland to consult with and encourage them. a society was formed to prepare the way for a church. a few consecrated women worked devotedly; they bought a lot in the edge of the woods and finally built a small chapel. then they moved for a minister. in st. louis, mo., rev. william greenleaf eliot had been for many years a force in religion and education. a strong unitarian church and washington university resulted. he had also founded a family and had inspired sons to follow in his footsteps. thomas lamb eliot had been ordained and was ready for the ministry. he was asked to take the portland church and he accepted. he came first to san francisco on his way. dr. stebbins was trying the experiment of holding services in the metropolitan theater, and i remember seeing in the stage box one sunday a very prepossessing couple that interested me much--they were the eliots on their way to portland. william g., jr., was an infant-in-arms. i was much impressed with the spirit that moved the attractive couple to venture into an unknown field. the acquaintance formed grew into a friendship that has deepened with the years. the ministry of the son in portland has been much like that of the father in st. louis. the church has been reverent and constructive, a steady force for righteousness, an influence for good in personal life and community welfare. dr. eliot has fostered many interests, but the church has been foremost. he has always been greatly respected and influential. dr. stebbins entertained for him the highest regard. he was wont to say: "thomas eliot is the wisest man for his years i ever knew." he has always been that and more to me. he has served one parish all his life, winning and holding the reverent regard of the whole community. the active service of the church has passed to his son and for years he has given most of his time and strength to reed college, established by his parishioners. in a few months he will complete his eighty years of beautiful life and noble service. he has kept the faith and passed on the fine spirit of his inheritance. chapter xi outings i have not been much of a traveler abroad, or even beyond the pacific states. i have been to the atlantic shore four times since my emigration thence, and going or coming i visited chicago, st. louis, denver, and other points, but have no striking memories of any of them. in 1914 i had a very delightful visit to the hawaiian islands, including the volcano. it was full of interest and charm, with a beauty and an atmosphere all its own; but any description, or the story of experiences or impressions, would but re-echo what has been told adequately by others. british columbia and western washington i found full of interest and greatly enjoyed; but they also must be left unsung. my outings from my beaten track have been brief, but have contributed a large stock of happy memories. camping in california is a joy that never palls, and among the pleasantest pictures on memory's walls are the companionship of congenial friends in the beautiful surroundings afforded by the santa cruz mountains. twice in all the years since leaving humboldt have i revisited its hospitable shores and its most impressive redwoods. my love for it will never grow less. twice, too, have i reveled in the yosemite valley and beyond to the valley that will form a majestic lake--glorious hetch-hetchy. i am thankful for the opportunity i have enjoyed of seeing so fully the great pacific empire. my church supervision included california, oregon, and washington, with the southern fringe of canada for good measure. even without this attractive neighbor my territory was larger than france (or germany) and belgium, england, wales, and ireland combined. san diego, bellingham, and spokane were the triangle of bright stars that bounded the constellation. to have found friends and to be sure of a welcome at all of these and everywhere between was a great extension to my enjoyment, and visiting them was not only a pleasant duty but a delightful outing. in the sierras belated vacations perhaps gain more than they lose, and in the sum total at least hold their own. it is one advantage of being well distributed that opportunities increase. in that an individual is an unsalaried editor, extensive or expensive trips are unthinkable; that his calling affords necessities but a scant allowance of luxuries, leaves recreation in the sierras out of the question; but that by the accidents of politics he happens to be a supervisor, certain privileges, disguised attractively as duties, prove too alluring to resist. the city had an option on certain remote lands supposed to be of great value for water and power, and no one wants to buy a pig of that size in a poke, so it was ordained that the city fathers, with their engineer and various clerks and functionaries entitled to a vacation and desiring information (or _vice versa_), should visit the lands proposed to be acquired. in 1908 the supervisors inspected the dam-sites at lake eleanor and the hetch-hetchy, but gained little idea of the intervening country and the route of the water on its way to the city. subsequently the trip was more thoroughly planned and the result was satisfactory, both in the end attained and in the incidental process. on the morning of august 17, 1910, the party of seventeen disembarked from the stockton boat, followed by four fine municipal automobiles. when the men and the machines were satisfactorily supplied with fuel and the outfit was appropriately photographed, the procession started mountainward. for some time the good roads, fairly well watered, passed over level, fruitful country, with comfortable homes. then came gently rolling land and soon the foothills, with gravelly soil and scattered pines. a few orchards and ranches were passed, but not much that was really attractive. then we reached the scenes of early-day mining and half-deserted towns known to bret harte and the days of gold. knight's ferry became a memory instead of a name. chinese camp, once harboring thousands, is now a handful of houses and a few lonely stores and saloons. it had cast sixty-five votes a few days before our visit. then came a stratum of mills and mines, mostly deserted, a few operating sufficiently to discolor with the crushed mineral the streams flowing by. soon we reached the tuolumne, with clear, pellucid water in limited quantities, for the snow was not very plentiful the previous winter and it melted early. following its banks for a time, the road turned to climb a hill, and well along in the afternoon we reached "priests," a favorite roadhouse of the early stage line to the yosemite. here a good dinner was enjoyed, the machines were overhauled, and on we went. then big oak flat, a mining town of some importance, was passed, and a few miles farther groveland, where a quite active community turned out en masse to welcome the distinguished travelers. the day's work was done and the citizens showed a pathetic interest which testified to how little ordinarily happened. the shades of night were well down when hamilton's was reached--a stopping-place once well known, but now off the line of travel. here we were hospitably entertained and slept soundly after a full day's exercise. in the memory of all, perhaps the abundance of fried chicken for breakfast stands out as the distinguishing feature. a few will always remember it as the spot where for the first time they found themselves aboard a horse, and no kind chronicler would refer to which side of the animal they selected for the ascent. the municipally chartered pack-train, with cooks and supplies for man and beast, numbered over sixty animals, and chaparejos and cowboys, real and near, were numerous. the ride to the rim of the south fork of the tuolumne was short. the new trail was not sufficiently settled to be safe for the sharp descents, and for three-quarters of a mile the horses and mules were turned loose and the company dropped down the mountainside on foot. the lovely stream of water running between mountainous, wooded banks was followed up for many miles. about midday a charming spot for luncheon was found, where corral creek tumbles in a fine cascade on its way to the river. the day was warm, and when the mouth of eleanor creek was reached many enjoyed a good swim in an attractive deep basin. turning to the north, the bank of eleanor was followed to the first camping-place, plum flat, an attractive clearing, where wild plums have been augmented by fruit and vegetables. here, after a good dinner served in the open by the municipal cooks, the municipal sleeping-bags were distributed, and soft and level spots were sought for their spreading. the seasoned campers were happy and enjoyed the luxury. some who for the first time reposed upon the breast of mother earth failed to find her charm. one father awoke in the morning, sat up promptly, pointed his hand dramatically to the zenith, and said, "never again!" but he lived to revel in the open-air caravansary, and came home a tougher and a wiser man. a ride of fifteen miles through a finely wooded country brought us to the lake eleanor dam-site and the municipal camp, where general preparations are being made and runoff records are being taken. in a comfortable log house two assistants to the engineer spent the winter, keeping records of rainfall and other meteorological data. while we were in camp here, lake eleanor, a mile distant, was visited and enjoyed in various ways, and those who felt an interest in the main purpose of the trip rode over into the cherry creek watershed and inspected the sites and rights whose purchase is contemplated. saturday morning we left lake eleanor and climbed the steep ridge separating its watershed from that of the tuolumne. from eleanor to hetch-hetchy as the crow would fly, if there were a crow and he wanted to fly, is five miles. as mules crawl and men climb, it takes five hours. but it is well worth it for association with granite helps any politician. hetch-hetchy valley is about half as large as yosemite and almost as beautiful. early in the season the mosquitoes make life miserable, but as late as august the swampy land is pretty well dried up and they are few. the tuolumne tumbles in less effectively than the merced enters yosemite. instead of two falls of nine hundred feet, there is one of twenty or so. the wampana, corresponding to the yosemite falls, is not so high nor so picturesque, but is more industrious, and apparently takes no vacation. kolana is a noble knob, but not quite so imposing as sentinel rock. we camped in the valley two days and found it very delightful. the dam-site is not surpassed. nowhere in the world, it is said, can so large a body of water be impounded so securely at so small an expense. there is an admirable camping-ground within easy distance of the valley, and engineers say that at small expense a good trail, and even a wagon-road, can be built along the face of the north wall, making possible a fine view of the magnificent lake. with the argument for granting the right the city seeks i am not here concerned. the only purpose in view is the casual recital of a good time. it has to do with a delightful sojourn in good company, with songs around the camp-fire, trips up and down the valley, the taking of photographs, the appreciation of brook-trout, the towering mountains, the moon and stars that looked down on eyes facing direct from welcome beds. mention might be made of the discovery of characters--types of mountain guides who prove to be scholars and philosophers; of mules, like "flapjack," of literary fame; of close intercourse with men at their best; of excellent appetites satisfactorily met; of genial sun and of water so alluring as to compel intemperance in its use. the climbing of the south wall in the early morning, the noonday stop at hog ranch, and the touching farewell to mounts and pack-train, the exhilarating ride to crocker's, and the varied attractions of that fascinating resort, must be unsung. a night of mingled pleasure and rest with every want luxuriously supplied, a half-day of good coaching, and once more yosemite--the wonder of the west. its charms need no rehearsing. they not only never fade, but they grow with familiarity. the delight of standing on the summit of sentinel dome, conscious that your own good muscles have lifted you over four thousand feet from the valley's floor, with such a world spread before you; the indescribable beauty of a sunrise at glacier point, the beauty and majesty of vernal and nevada falls, the knightly crest of the half dome, and the imposing grandeur of the great capitan--what words can even hint their varied glory! all this packed into a week, and one comes back strengthened in body and spirit, with a renewed conviction of the beauty of the world, and a freshened readiness to lend a hand in holding human nature up to a standard that shall not shame the older sister. a day in concord there are many lovely spots in new england when june is doing her best. rolling hills dotted with graceful elms, meadows fresh with the greenest of grass, streams of water winding through the peaceful stretches, robins hopping in friendly confidence, distant hills blue against the horizon, soft clouds floating in the sky, air laden with the odor of lilacs and vibrant with songs of birds. there are many other spots of great historic interest, beautiful or not--it doesn't matter much--where memorable meetings have been held which set in motion events that changed the course of history, or where battles have been fought that no american can forget. there are still other places rich with human interest where some man of renown has lived and died--some man who has made his undying mark in letters, or has been a source of inspiration through his calm philosophy. but if one would stand upon the particular spot which can claim supremacy in each of these three respects, where can he go but to concord, massachusetts! it would be hard to find a lovelier view anywhere in the gentle east than is to be gained from the reservoir height--a beautifully broken landscape, hill and dale, woodland, distant trees, two converging streams embracing and flowing in a quiet, decorous union beneath the historic bridge, comfortable homes, many of them too simple and dignified to be suspected of being modern, a cluster of steeples rising above the elms in the center of the town, pastures and plowed fields, well-fed jerseys resting under the oaks, an occasional canoe floating on the gentle stream, genuine old new england homes, painted white, with green blinds, generous wood-piles near at hand, comfortable barns, and blossoming orchards, now and then a luxurious house, showing the architect's effort to preserve the harmonious--all of these and more, to form a scene of pastoral beauty and with nothing to mar the picture--no uncompromising factories, no blocks of flats, no elevated roads, no glaring signs of cuban cheroots or peruna bitters. it is simply an ideal exhibit of all that is most beautiful and attractive in new england scenery and life, and its charm is very great. turning to its historic interest, one is reminded of it at every side. upon a faithful reproduction of the original meeting-house, a tablet informs the visitor that here the first meeting was held that led to national independence. a placard on a quaint old hostelry informs us that it was a tavern in pre-revolutionary times. leaving the "common," around which most new england towns cluster, one soon reaches monument street. following it until houses grow infrequent, one comes to an interesting specimen which seems familiar. a conspicuous sign proclaims it private property and that sightseers are not welcome. it is the "old manse" made immortal by the genius of hawthorne. near by, an interesting road intersects leading to a river. soon we descry a granite monument at the famous bridge, and across the bridge "the minute man." the inscription on the monument informs us that here the first british soldier fell. an iron chain incloses a little plot by the side of a stone wall where rest those who met the first armed resistance. crossing the bridge which spans a dark and sluggish stream one reaches french's fine statue with emerson's noble inscription,- "by the rude bridge that arched the flood, their flag to april's breeze unfurled, here once the embattled farmers stood and fired the shot heard round the world." no historic spot has a finer setting or an atmosphere so well fitted to calm reflection on a momentous event. on the way to concord, if one is so fortunate as to go by trolley, one passes through lexington and catches a glimpse of its bronze "minute man," more spirited and lifelike in its tense suspended motion than french's calm and determined farmer-soldier. in the side of a farmhouse near the concord battle-field--if such an encounter can be called a battle--a shot from a british bullet pierced the wood, and that historic orifice is carefully preserved; a diamond-shaped pane surrounds it. our friend, rev. a.w. jackson, remarked, "i suppose if that house should burn down, the first thing they would try to save would be that bullet-hole." but concord is richest in the memory of the men who have lived and died there, and whose character and influence have made it a center of world-wide inspiration. one has but to visit sleepy hollow cemetery to be impressed with the number and weight of remarkable names associated with this quiet town, little more than a village. sleepy hollow is one of a number of rather unusual depressions separated by sharp ridges that border the town. the hills are wooded, and in some instances their steep sides make them seem like the half of a california canyon. the cemetery is not in the cuplike valley, but on the side and summit of a gentle hill. it is well kept and very impressive. one of the first names to attract attention is "hawthorne," cut on a simple slab with rounded top. it is the sole inscription on the little stone about a foot high. simplicity could go no farther. within a small radius are found the graves of emerson, thoreau, alcott, john weiss, and samuel hoar. emerson's monument is a beautiful boulder, on the smoothed side of which is placed a bronze tablet. the inscriptions on the stones placed to the memory of the different members of the family are most fitting and touching. this is also true of the singularly fine inscriptions in the lot where rest several generations of the hoar family. a good article might be written on monumental inscriptions in the concord burial-ground. it is a lovely spot where these illustrious sons of concord have found their final resting-place, and a pilgrimage to it cannot but freshen one's sense of indebtedness to these gifted men of pure lives and elevated thoughts. the most enjoyable incident of the delightful decoration day on which our trip was made was a visit to emerson's home. his daughter was in new york, but we were given the privilege of freely taking possession of the library and parlor. everything is as the sage left it. his books are undisturbed, his portfolio of notes lies upon the table, and his favorite chair invites the friend who feels he can occupy it. the atmosphere is quietly simple. the few pictures are good, but not conspicuous or insistent. the books bear evidence of loving use. bindings were evidently of no interest. nearly all the books are in the original cloth, now faded and worn. one expects to see the books of his contemporaries and friends, and the expectation is met. they are mostly in first editions, and many of them are almost shabby. taking down the first volume of _the dial_, i found it well filled with narrow strips of paper, marking articles of especial interest. the authors' names not being given, they were frequently supplied by mr. emerson on the margin. i noticed opposite one article the words "t. parker" in mr. emerson's writing. the books covered one side of a good-sized room and ran through the connecting hall into the quaint parlor, or sitting-room, behind it. a matting covered the floor, candlesticks rested on the chimney-piece, and there was no meaningless bric-a-brac, nor other objects of suspected beauty to distract attention. as you enter the house, the library occupies the large right-hand corner room. it was simple to the verge of austerity, and the farthest possible removed from a "collection." there was no effort at arrangement--they were just books, for use and for their own sake. the portfolio of fugitive notes and possible material for future use was interesting, suggesting the source of much that went to make up those fascinating essays where the "thoughts" often made no pretense at sequence, but rested in peaceful unregulated proximity, like eggs in a nest. here is a sentence that evidently didn't quite satisfy him, an uncertain mark of erasure leaving the approved portion in doubt: "read proudly. put the duty of being read invariably on the author. if he is not read, whose fault is it? i am quite ready to be charmed--but i shall not make believe i am charmed." dear man! he never would "make believe." transparent, sincere soul, how he puts to shame all affectation and pretense! mr. jackson says his townsmen found it hard to realize that he was great. they always thought of him as the kindly neighbor. one old farmer told of his experience in driving home a load of hay. he was approaching a gate and was just preparing to climb down to open it, when an old gentleman nimbly ran ahead and opened it for him. it was emerson, who apparently never gave it a second thought. it was simply the natural thing for him to do. walden pond is some little distance from the emerson home, and the time at our disposal did not permit a visit. but we had seen enough and felt enough to leave a memory of rare enjoyment to the credit of that precious day in concord. five days there are several degrees of rest, and there are many ways of resting. what is rest to one person might be an intolerable bore to another, but when one finds the ultimate he is never after in doubt. he knows what is, to him, _the real thing_. the effect of a sufficient season, say five days, to one who had managed to find very little for a disgracefully long time, is not easy to describe, but very agreeable to feel. my friend [footnote: horace davis] has a novel retreat. he is fond of nature as manifested in the growth of trees and plants, and some seventeen years ago he bought a few acres, mostly of woods, in the santa cruz mountains. there was a small orchard, a few acres of hillside hayfield, and a little good land where garden things would grow. there was, too, a somewhat eccentric house where a man who was trying to be theosophical had lived and communed with his mystified soul. to foster the process he had more or less blue glass and a window of gothic form in the peak of his rambling house. in his living-room a round window, with sanskrit characters, let in a doubtful gleam from another room. in the side-hill a supposedly fireproof vault had been built to hold the manuscript that held his precious thoughts. in the gulch he had a sacred spot, where, under the majestic redwoods, he retired to write, and in a small building he had a small printing-press, from which the world was to have been led to the light. but there was some failure of connection, and stern necessity compelled the surrender of these high hopes. my friend took over the plant, and the reformer reformed and went off to earn his daily bread. his memory is kept alive by the name mahatma, given to the gulch, and the blue glass has what effect it may on a neighbor's vegetables. the little house was made habitable. the home of the press was comfortably ceiled and made into a guest-chamber, and apples and potatoes are stored in the fireproof vault. the acres were fairly covered with a second growth of redwood and a wealth of madroã±os and other native trees; but there were many spaces where nature invited assistance, and my friend every year has planted trees of many kinds from many climes, until he has an arboretum hardly equaled anywhere. there are pines in endless variety--from the sierra and from the seashore, from new england, france, norway, and japan. there flourish the cedar, spruce, hemlock, oak, beech, birch, and maple. there in peace and plenty are the sequoia, the bamboo, and the deodar. eucalypts pierce the sky and japanese dwarfs hug the ground. these children of the woodland vary in age from six months to sixteen years, and each has its interest and tells its story of struggle, with results of success or failure, as conditions determine. at the entrance to the grounds an incense-cedar on one side and an arbor-vitae on the other stand dignified guard. the acres have been added to until about sixty are covered with growing trees. around the house, which wisteria has almost covered, is a garden in which roses predominate, but hollyhocks, coreopsis, and other flowers not demanding constant care grow in luxuriance. there is abundance of water, and filtered sunshine gives a delightful temperature. the thermometer on the vine-clad porch runs up to 80 in the daytime and in the night drops down to 40. a sympathetic italian lives not far away, keeping a good cow, raising amazingly good vegetables, gathering the apples and other fruit, and caring for the place. the house is unoccupied except during the five days each month when my friend restores himself, mentally and physically, by rest and quiet contemplation and observation. he takes with him a faithful servitor, whose old age is made happy by these periodical sojourns, and the simple life is enjoyed to the full. into this resthaven it was my happy privilege to spend five-sevenths of a week of august, and the rare privilege of being obliged to do nothing was a great delight. early rising was permissible, but not encouraged. at eight o'clock a rich hibernian voice was heard to say, "hot water, mr. murdock," and it was so. a simple breakfast, meatless, but including the best of coffee and apricots, tree-ripened and fresh, was enjoyed at leisure undisturbed by thought of awaiting labor. following the pleasant breakfast chat was a forenoon of converse with my friend or a friendly book or magazine, broken by a stroll through some part of the wood and introduction to the hospitably entertained trees from distant parts. my friend is something of a botanist, and was able to pronounce the court names of all his visitors. wild flowers still persist, and among others was pointed out one which was unknown to the world till he chanced to find it. [illustration: outings in the sierras, 1910 in hawaii, 1914] very interesting is the fact that the flora of the region, which is a thousand feet above sea-level, has many of the characteristics of beach vicinity, and the reason is disclosed by the outcropping at various points of a deposit of white sand, very fine, and showing under the microscope the smoothly rounded form that tells of the rolling waves. this deposit is said to be traceable for two hundred miles easterly, and where it has been eroded by the streams of today enormous trees have grown on the deposited soil. the mind is lost in conjecture of the time that must have elapsed since an ancient sea wore to infinitesimal bits the quartz that some rushing stream had brought from its native mountains. another interesting feature of the landscape was the clearly marked course of the old "indian trail," known to the earliest settlers, which followed through this region from the coast at santa cruz to the santa clara valley. it followed the most accessible ridges and showed elemental surveying of a high order. along its line are still found bits of rusted iron, with specks of silver, relics of the spurs and bridles of the caballeros of the early days. the maples that sheltered the house are thinned out, that the sun may not be excluded, and until its glare becomes too radiant the steamer-chair or the rocker seeks the open that the genial page of "susan's escort, and others," one of the inimitable books of edward everett hale, may be enjoyed in comfort. when midday comes the denser shade of tree or porch is sought, and coats come off. at noon dinner is welcome, and proves that the high cost of living is largely a conventional requirement. it may be beans or a bit of roast ham brought from home, with potatoes or tomatoes, good bread and butter, and a dessert of toasted crackers with loganberries and cream. to experience the comfort of not eating too much and to find how little can be satisfying is a great lesson in the art of living. to supplement, and dispose of, this homily on food, our supper was always baked potatoes and cream toast,--but such potatoes and real cream toast! of course, fruit was always "on tap," and the good coffee reappeared. in the cool of the afternoon a longer walk. good trails lead over the whole place, and sometimes we would go afield and call on some neighbor. almost invariably they were italians, who were thriving where improvident americans had given up in despair. always my friend found friendly welcome. this one he had helped out of a trouble with a refractory pump, that one he had befriended in some other way. all were glad to see him, and wished him well. what a poor investment it is to quarrel with a neighbor! sometimes my friend would busy himself by leading water to some neglected and thirsty plant, while i was re-reading "tom grogan" or brander matthews' plays, but for much of the time we talked and exchanged views on current topics or old friends. when the evening came we prudently went inside and continued our reading or our talk till we felt inclined to seek our comfortable beds and the oblivion that blots out troubles or pleasures. and so on for five momentous days. quite unlike the "seven days" in the delightful farce-comedy of that name, in which everything happened, here nothing seemed to happen. we were miles from a post-office, and newspapers disturbed us not. the world of human activity was as though it were not. politics as we left it was a disturbing memory, but no fresh outbreaks aggravated our discomfort. we were at rest and we rested. a good recipe for long life, i think, would be: withdraw from life's turmoil regularly--five days in a month. an anniversary the humboldt county business established and conducted on honor by alex. brizard was continued on like lines by his three sons with conspicuous success. as the fiftieth anniversary approached they arranged to fitly celebrate the event. they invited many of their father's and business associates to take part in the anniversary observance in july, 1913. with regret, i was about to decline when my good friend henry michaels, a state guard associate, who had become the head of the leading house in drugs and medicines with which brizard and his sons had extensively dealt, came in and urged me to join him in motoring to humboldt. he wanted to go, but would not go alone and the double delight of his company and joining in the anniversary led to prompt acceptance of his generous proposal. there followed one of the most enjoyable outings of my life. i had never compassed the overland trip to humboldt, and while i naturally expected much the realization far exceeded my anticipations. from the fine highway following the main ridge the various branches of the eel river were clearly outlined, and when we penetrated the world-famous redwood belt and approached the coast our enjoyment seemed almost impious, as though we were motoring through a cathedral. we found arcata bedecked for the coming anniversary. the whole community felt its significance. when the hour came every store in town closed. seemingly the whole population assembled in and around the brizard store, anxious to express kindly memory and approval of those who so well sustained the traditions of the elders. the oldest son made a brief, manly address and introduced a few of the many who could have borne tribute. it was a happy occasion in which good-will was made very evident. a ball in the evening concluded the festivities, and it was with positive regret that we turned from the delightful atmosphere and retraced our steps to home and duty. chapter xii occasional verse boston (after bret harte) on the south fork of yuba, in may, fifty-two, an old cabin stood on the hill, where the road to grass valley lay clear to the view, and a ditch that ran down to buck's mill. it was owned by a party that lately had come to discover what fate held in store; he was working for brigham, and prospecting some, while the clothes were well cut that he wore. he had spruced up the cabin, and by it would stay, for he never could bear a hotel. he refused to drink whiskey or poker to play, but was jolly and used the boys well. in the long winter evenings he started a club, to discuss the affairs of the day. he was up in the classics--a scholarly cub- and the best of the talkers could lay. he could sing like a robin, and play on the flute, and he opened a school, which was free, where he taught all the musical fellows to toot, or to join in an anthem or glee. so he soon "held the age" over any young man who had ever been known on the bar; and the boys put him through, when for sheriff he ran, and his stock now was much above par. in the spring he was lucky, and struck a rich lead, and he let all his friends have a share; it was called the new boston, for that was his breed, and the rock that he showed them was rare. when he called on his partners to put up a mill, they were anxious to furnish the means; and the needful, of course, turned into his till just as freely as though it was beans. then he went to the bay with his snug little pile- there was seventeen thousand and more- to arrange for a mill of the most approved style, and to purchase a sturtevant blower. but they waited for boston a year and a day, and he never was heard of again. for the lead he had opened was salted with pay, and he'd played 'em with culture and brain. the greater freedom o god of battles, who sustained our fathers in the glorious days when they our priceless freedom gained, help us, as loyal sons, to raise anew the standard they upbore, and bear it on to farther heights, where freedom seeks for self no more, but love a life of service lights. our father is god our father? so sublime the thought we cannot hope its meaning full to grasp, e'en as the child the gifts the wise men brought could not within his infant fingers clasp. we speak the words from early childhood taught. we sometimes fancy that their truth we feel; but only on life's upper heights is caught the vital message that they may reveal. so on the heights may we be led to dwell, that nearer god we may more truly know how great the heritage his love will tell if we be lifted up from things below. resurgam the stricken city lifts her head, with eyes yet dim from flowing tears; her heart still throbs with pain unspent, but hope, triumphant, conquers fears. with vision calm, she sees her course, nor shrinks, though thorny be the way. shall human will succumb to fate, crushed by the happenings of a day? the city that we love shall live, and grow in beauty and in power; her loyal sons shall stand erect, their chastened courage heaven's dower. and when the story shall be told of direful ruin, loss, and dearth, there shall be said with pride and joy: "but man survived, and proved his worth." san francisco o "city loved around the world," triumphant over direful fate, thy flag of honor never furled, proud guardian of the golden gate; hold thou that standard from the dust of lower ends or doubtful gain; on thy good sword no taint of rust; on stars and stripes no blot or stain. thy loyal sons by thee shall stand, thy highest purpose to uphold; proclaim the word, o'er all the land, that truth more precious is than gold. let justice never be denied, resist the wrong, defend the right; where west meets east stand thou in pride of noble life,--a beacon-light. the new year the past is gone beyond recall, the future kindly veils its face; today we live, today is all we have or need, our day of grace. the world is god's, and hence 'tis plain that only wrong we need to fear; 'tis ours to live, come joy or pain, to make more blessed each new year. prodigals we tarry in a foreign land, with pleasure's husks elate, when robe and ring and father's hand at home our coming wait. deep-rooted fierce boreas in his wildest glee assails in vain the yielding tree that, rooted deep, gains strength to bear, and proudly lifts its head in air. when loss or grief, with sharp distress, to man brings brunt of storm and stress, he stands serene who calmly bends in strength that trust, deep-rooted, lends. to horatio stebbins the sun still shines, and happy, blithesome birds are singing on the swaying boughs in bloom. my eyes look forth and see no sign of gloom, no loss casts shadow on the grazing herds; and yet i bear within a grief that words can ne'er express, for in the silent tomb is laid the body of my friend, the doom of silence on that matchless voice. now girds my spirit for the struggle he would praise. a leader viewless to the mortal eye still guides my steps, still calls with clarion cry to deeds of honor, and my thoughts would raise to seek the truth and share the love on high. with loyal heart i'll follow all my days. new year, 1919 the sifting sand that marks the passing year in many-colored tints its course has run through days with shadows dark, or bright with sun, but hope has triumphed over doubt and fear, new radiance flows from stars that grace our flag. our fate we ventured, though full dark the night, and faced the fatuous host who trusted might. god called, the country's lovers could not lag, serenely trustful, danger grave despite, untrained, in love with peace, they dared to fight, and freed a threatened world from peril dire, establishing the majesty of right. our loyal hearts still burn with sacred fire, our spirits' wings are plumed for upward flight. new year, 1920 the curtain rises on the all-world stage, the play is unannounced; no prologue's word gives hint of scene, or voices to be heard; we may be called with tragedy to rage, in comedy or farce we may disport, with feverish melodrama we may thrill, or in a pantomimic role be still. we may find fame in field, or grace a court, whate'er the play, forthwith its lines will start, and every soul, in cloister or in mart, must act, and do his best from day to day- so says the prompter to the human heart. "the play's the thing," might shakespear's hamlet say. "the thing," to us, is playing well our part. epilogue *walking in the way* to hold to faith when all seems dark to keep of good courage when failure follows failure to cherish hope when its promise is faintly whispered to bear without complaint the heavy burdens that must be borne to be cheerful whatever comes to preserve high ideals to trust unfalteringly that well-being follows well-doing this is the way of life to be modest in desires to enjoy simple pleasures to be earnest to be true to be kindly to be reasonably patient and ever-lastingly persistent to be considerate to be at least just to be helpful to be loving this is to walk therein. charles a. murdock transcriber's note: -due to a large number of tables, it is strongly suggested to use a monospaced font. [illustration: the busy retail store of the l. e. waterman company at the "pen corner," 173 broadway, new york city] cyclopedia _of_ commerce, accountancy, business administration volume 4 _a general reference work on_ accounting, auditing, bookkeeping, commercial law, business management, administrative and industrial organization, banking, advertising, selling, office and factory records, cost keeping, systematizing, etc. _prepared by a corps of_ auditors, accountants, attorneys, and specialists in business methods and management _illustrated with over two thousand engravings_ ten volumes chicago american technical society 1910 copyright, 1909 by american school of correspondence copyright, 1909 by american technical society entered at stationers' hall, london all rights reserved authors and collaborators james bray griffith, _managing editor_ head, dept. of commerce, accountancy, and business administration, american school of correspondence. robert h. montgomery of the firm of lybrand, ross bros. & montgomery, certified public accountants. editor of the american edition of dicksee's _auditing_. formerly lecturer on auditing at the evening school of accounts and finance of the university of pennsylvania, and the school of commerce, accounts, and finance of the new york university. arthur lowes dickinson, f. c. a., c. p. a. of the firms of jones, caesar, dickinson, wilmot & company, certified public accountants, and price, waterhouse & company, chartered accountants. william m. lybrand, c. p. a. of the firm of lybrand, ross bros. & montgomery, certified public accountants. f. h. macpherson, c. a., c. p. a. of the firm of f. h. macpherson & co., certified public accountants. chas. a. sweetland consulting public accountant. author of "loose-leaf bookkeeping," and "anti-confusion business methods." e. c. landis of the system department, burroughs adding machine company. harris c. trow, s. b. _editor-in-chief_, textbook department, american school of correspondence. cecil b. smeeton, f. i. a. public accountant and auditor. president, incorporated accountants' society of illinois. fellow, institute of accounts, new york. john a. chamberlain, a. b., ll. b. of the cleveland bar. lecturer on suretyship, western reserve law school. author of "principles of business law." hugh wright auditor, westlake construction company. glenn m. hobbs, ph.d. secretary, american school of correspondence. jessie m. shepherd, a. b. associate editor, textbook department, american school of correspondence. george c. russell systematizer. formerly manager, system department, elliott-fisher company. oscar e. perrigo, m. e. specialist in industrial organization. author of "machine-shop economics and systems," etc. darwin s. hatch, b. s. assistant editor, textbook department, american school of correspondence. chas. e. hathaway cost expert. chief accountant, fore river shipbuilding co. chas. wilbur leigh, b. s. associate professor of mathematics, armour institute of technology. l. w. lewis advertising manager, the mccaskey register co. martin w. russell registrar and treasurer, american school of correspondence. halbert p. gillette, c. e. managing editor, _engineering-contracting_. author of "handbook of cost data for contractors and engineers." r. t. miller, jr., a. m., ll. b. president, american school of correspondence. william schutte manager of advertising, national cash register co. e. st. elmo lewis advertising manager, burroughs adding machine company. author of "the credit man and his work" and "financial advertising." richard t. dana consulting engineer. chief engineer, construction service co. p. h. bogardus publicity manager, american school of correspondence. william g. nichols general manufacturing agent for the china mfg. co., the webster mfg. co., and the pembroke mills. author of "cost finding" and "cotton mills." c. h. hunter advertising manager, elliott-fisher co. frank c. morse filing expert. secretary, browne-morse co. h. e. k'berg expert on loose-leaf systems. formerly manager, business systems department, burroughs adding machine co. edward b. waite head, instruction department, american school of correspondence. =authorities consulted= the editors have freely consulted the standard technical and business literature of america and europe in the preparation of these volumes. they desire to express their indebtedness, particularly, to the following eminent authorities, whose well-known treatises should be in the library of everyone interested in modern business methods. grateful acknowledgment is made also of the valuable service rendered by the many manufacturers and specialists in office and factory methods, whose coöperation has made it possible to include in these volumes suitable illustrations of the latest equipment for office use; as well as those financial, mercantile, and manufacturing concerns who have supplied illustrations of offices, factories, shops, and buildings, typical of the commercial and industrial life of america. joseph hardcastle, c.p.a. formerly professor of principles and practice of accounts, school of commerce, accounts, and finance, new york university. author of "accounts of executors and testamentary trustees." horace lucian arnold specialist in factory organization and accounting. author of "the complete cost keeper," and "factory manager and accountant." john f.j. mulhall, p.a. specialist in corporation accounts. author of "quasi public corporation accounting and management." sherwin cody advertising and sales specialist. author of "how to do business by letter," and "art of writing and speaking the english language." frederick tipson, c.p.a. author of "theory of accounts." charles buxton going managing editor of _the engineering magazine_. associate in mechanical engineering, columbia university. corresponding member, canadian mining institute. f.e. webner public accountant. specialist in factory accounting. contributor to the engineering press. amos k. fiske associate editor of the _new york journal of commerce_. author of "the modern bank." joseph french johnson dean of the new york university school of commerce, accounts, and finance. editor, _the journal of accountancy_. author of "money, exchange, and banking." m. u. overland of the new york bar. author of "classified corporation laws of all the states." thomas conyngton of the new york bar. author of "corporate management," "corporate organization," "the modern corporation," and "partnership relations." theophilus parsons, ll. d. author of "the laws of business." e. st. elmo lewis advertising manager, burroughs adding machine company. formerly manager of publicity, national cash register co. author of "the credit man and his work," and "financial advertising." t. e. young, b. a., f. r. a. s. ex-president of the institute of actuaries. member of the actuary society of america. author of "insurance." lawrence r. dicksee, f. c. a. professor of accounting at the university of birmingham. author of "advanced accounting," "auditing," "bookkeeping for company secretary," etc. francis w. pixley author of "auditors, their duties and responsibilities," and "accountancy." charles u. carpenter general manager, the herring-hall-marvin safe co. formerly general manager, national cash register co. author of "profit making management." c. e. knoeppel specialist in cost analysis and factory betterment. author of "systematic foundry operation and foundry costing," "maximum production through organization and supervision," and other papers. harrington emerson, m. a. consulting engineer. director of organization and betterment work on the santa fe system. originator of the emerson efficiency system. author of "efficiency as a basis for operation and wages." elmer h. beach specialist in accounting methods. editor, _beach's magazine of business_. founder of the bookkeeper. editor of _the american business and accounting encyclopedia_. j. j. rahill, c. p. a. member, california society of public accountants. author of "corporation accounting and corporation law." frank brooker, c. p. a. ex-new york state examiner of certified public accountants. ex-president, american association of public accountants. author of "american accountants' manual." clinton e. woods, m. e. specialist in industrial organization. formerly comptroller, sears, roebuck & co. author of "organizing a factory," and "woods' reports." charles e. sprague, c. p. a. president of the union dime savings bank, new york. author of "the accountancy of investment," "extended bond tables," and "problems and studies in the accountancy of investment." charles waldo haskins, c. p. a., l. h. m. author of "business education and accountancy." john j. crawford author of "bank directors, their powers, duties, and liabilities." dr. f. a. cleveland of the wharton school of finance, university of pennsylvania. author of "funds and their uses." [illustration: chicago sales and display rooms of the new haven clock company] foreword with the unprecedented increase in our commercial activities has come a demand for better business methods. methods which were adequate for the business of a less active commercial era, have given way to systems and labor-saving ideas in keeping with the financial and industrial progress of the world. out of this progress has risen a new literature--the literature of business. but with the rapid advancement in the science of business, its literature can scarcely be said to have kept pace, at least, not to the same extent as in other sciences and professions. much excellent material dealing with special phases of business activity has been prepared, but this is so scattered that the student desiring to acquire a comprehensive business library has found himself confronted by serious difficulties. he has been obliged, to a great extent, to make his selections blindly, resulting in many duplications of material without securing needed information on important phases of the subject. in the belief that a demand exists for a library which shall embrace the best practice in all branches of business--from buying to selling, from simple bookkeeping to the administration of the financial affairs of a great corporation--these volumes have been prepared. prepared primarily for use as instruction books for the american school of correspondence, the material from which the cyclopedia has been compiled embraces the latest ideas with explanations of the most approved methods of modern business. editors and writers have been selected because of their familiarity with, and experience in handling various subjects pertaining to commerce, accountancy, and business administration. writers with practical business experience have received preference over those with theoretical training; practicability has been considered of greater importance than literary excellence. in addition to covering the entire general field of business, this cyclopedia contains much specialized information not heretofore published in any form. this specialization is particularly apparent in those sections which treat of accounting and methods of management for department stores, contractors, publishers and printers, insurance, and real estate. the value of this information will be recognized by every student of business. the principal value which is claimed for this cyclopedia is as a reference work, but, comprising as it does the material used by the school in its correspondence courses, it is offered with the confident expectation that it will prove of great value to the trained man who desires to become conversant with phases of business practice with which he is unfamiliar, and to those holding advanced clerical and managerial positions. in conclusion, grateful acknowledgment is made to authors and collaborators, to whose hearty cooperation the excellence of this work is due. table of contents (for professional standing of authors, see list of authors and collaborators at front of volume.) volume iv theory of accounts _by james b. griffith_ page 11 dictionary of commercial terms--commercial abbreviations--objects of bookkeeping--methods--single entry--double entry--advantages of double entry --classes of account books--recording transactions--promissory notes--bank deposits--sample transactions--classes of accounts--classes of assets--revenue accounts--rules for journalizing--rules for posting--trial balance--sample ledger accounts--treatment of cash discounts --profit and loss--merchandise inventory accounts--balance sheet --journalizing notes--journalizing drafts single proprietorship and partnership accounts _by james b. griffith_ page 119 retail business--proprietors' accounts--inventory--retail coal books-uncollectible accounts--sales tickets--departmental records--partnership agreements--kinds of partners--participation in profits--interest on investments--capital and personal accounts--opening and closing partnership books--model set of books corporation and manufacturing accounts _by james b. griffith_ page 195 classification of corporations--joint stock company--creation of corporation --stockholders--stock certificates--capitalization--capital and capital stock --stock subscriptions--management of corporations--powers of directors and officers--dividends--closing transfer books--sale of stock below par--corporation bookkeeping--books required--opening entries--changing books from partnership to corporation--stock donated to employes--reserves--computing sinking funds--premium and interest on bonds--manufacturing and cost accounts--factory assets--factory expenses--balance ledger the voucher system of accounting _by james b. griffith_ page 273 use of vouchers--voucher checks--journal vouchers--voucher register--operation of system--auditing invoices--executing vouchers--paying, filing, and indexing vouchers--voucher file--demonstration of system--voucher accounting--unit system --combined purchase ledger and invoice file--private ledger --private journal--general ledger--manufacturing accounts --charting accounts--chart of trading business--chart of manufacturing accounts--examples of charts--explanation of charts review questions page 325 index page 345 [illustration: the accounting department in the offices of the green fuel economizer company, matteawan, n. y.] theory of accounts part i like every other special branch of study, the theory and practice of accounts has its own special vocabulary of technical terms. in all literature of accounting and business methods in general, these terms are frequently employed; and the student will find it not only advantageous, but in fact absolutely necessary, to familiarize himself thoroughly with their use. the commercial terms and definitions in the following list are the ones most commonly used in business. great care has been exercised in preparing a list that is practical and in making the definitions clear. dictionary of commercial terms _acceptance_--when a draft or bill of exchange is presented to the payer, he writes across the face "accepted" or "accepted for payment at ..." and signs his name. it is then termed an acceptance. _accommodation note_--a note given without consideration of value received; usually done to enable the payee to raise money. _account_-(_a_) a statement of debits and credits. (_b_) a record of transactions with a particular person or persons, or with respect to a particular object. _account books_--books in which records of business transactions or accounts are kept. _account current_--an account of transactions during the present month, week, or other current period. an open account. _account sales_--a statement in detail covering sales, expenses, and net proceeds made by a commission merchant to one who has consigned goods to him. _accrued; accrued interest_-(_a_) accumulated interest not payable until a specified date. (_b_) accumulated rent. [illustration: specimen account] _acknowledgment_--a certificate to the genuineness of a document signed and sworn to before an authorized official, as a notary public. _administrator_--one appointed by the court to settle an estate. _ad valorem_--according to value. a term used to indicate that duties are payable on the value rather than on the weight or quantity of articles. _adventure_--as used in business, this term signifies a venture or speculation. [illustration: account sales] _advice_--information with reference to a business transaction; notice of shipment; notice of draft. transmitted by letter or telegram. _affidavit_--a statement or declaration made under oath, before an authorized official. _agent_--one authorized to act or transact business for another. _agreement_--a mutual contract entered into by two or more persons. [illustration: acknowledgment] _allowance_--an abatement; a credit for inferior goods, error in quantity, etc. _annual statement_--a yearly summary of the transactions of a business. _annuity_--an amount payable to or received from another each year for a term of years or for life. _antedate_--to date a document or paper ahead of the actual time of its execution. _appraise_--to place a value on goods or property. an estimate made for the purpose of assessing duties or taxes. _appreciation_--an increase in value. real estate may increase in value on account of the demand for property in the immediate vicinity. _approbation_ or _approval sales_. goods delivered to customers with the understanding that if not found satisfactory they are to be returned within a definite period and without payment. _articles_--a collection of merchandise; parts of a written agreement, as "articles of association." _arbitrate_--to determine or settle disputes between two or more parties, as settlement of differences between employer and employees. _assets_--all of the property, goods, possessions of value of a person or persons in business. _assign_--to transfer or convey to another for the benefit of creditors. _assignee_--the person to whom the property or business is transferred. usually acts as a trustee of the creditors. _assignment_--the debtor's transfer or conveyance of his property to a trustee. _assignor_--the debtor who makes an assignment, or transfers property for the benefit of creditors. _association_--a body organized for a common object. _attachment_--a legal seizure of goods to satisfy a debt or claim. _auxiliary_--books of record other than books of original entry or principal books of account. books used for purposes of distribution or the gathering of statistics are "auxiliary" books. _audit_--to verify the accuracy of accounts by examining or checking records pertaining thereto. _average_--as applied to accounts, the mean time which bills of different dates have to run, or an average due date for several accounts. determining the due date is sometimes referred to as averaging accounts. _balance_--the difference between the debit and credit sides of an account. to close an account by entering the amount on the lesser side necessary to make the two sides balance. _balance sheet_--a statement or summary in condensed form made for the purpose of showing the standing or condition of a business. _balance of trade_--the balance or difference in value between the imports and exports of a country. _bale_--the form in which certain commodities are marketed. a bale of cotton, bale of hay, etc. _bank balance_--the net amount to the credit of a depositor at the bank. _bank note_--a note issued by a bank, payable on demand, which passes for money. _bank draft_--an order drawn by one bank on another for the purpose of paying money. _bank pass-book_--a small book furnished to a depositor by his bank, in which are entered the amounts of deposits and sometimes the checks or withdrawals. _bankrupt_--a person, firm, or corporation whose liabilities exceed their assets; who are unable to meet their obligations. _bill_--a statement or record of goods bought or sold, or of services rendered. [illustration: bill] _bill of exchange_--an order on a given person or bank to pay a specified amount to the person and at the time named in the bill. the term is more commonly used to apply to orders on another country, being made in triplicate. _bill of lading_--a receipt issued by the representative of a common carrier, for goods accepted for transportation to a specified point and at a given rate. it is a contract, and, when transferred to a third party, becomes an absolute title to the goods. [illustration: bill of lading] _bill of sale_--a written document executed by the seller, transferring title to personal property. _bill head_--the blank or form on which a bill is made. for illustration, see bill. [illustration: bill of exchange] _bills payable_--promissory notes and acceptances which we are to pay. _bills receivable_--promissory notes and acceptances which are to be paid to us. _blanks_--papers or books ruled or printed in suitable form for business records. _blotter_--a book in which are entered memoranda of transactions which are later copied into other books. also known as a _day book_. _bond_--a written agreement binding a person to do or not to do certain things specified therein. a negotiable instrument secured by mortgage or other security, binding the maker to pay certain sums on specific dates. _bonded goods_--goods stored in a government warehouse, or in bonded cars, bonds having been given by the owner for the payment of import duties or internal revenue taxes when removed. _bonus_--an amount paid in excess of the sum originally agreed upon. a premium or gift--for example, a sum paid to a salesman as extra compensation for making a certain number of sales. _book account_--a charge or evidence of indebtedness on the books of account not secured by note or other written promise. _brand_--a class of goods. a symbol or name used to designate a specific article. a trade mark. _broker_--one who acts as agent or middleman between buyer and seller. _brokerage_--the commissions or fees paid the broker for his services. also a term used to designate his business. _bullion_--uncoined gold or silver. _call loans_--loans made payable on demand or when called for. _cancel_--to render null and void; to annul. _capital_--property or money invested in a business. _capital stock_--a term used to indicate the subscriptions of all stockholders to the capital of a corporation. _cartage_--the charges made for hauling goods by wagon, or otherwise than by freight or express. _cash sales_--sales for which immediate payment is received in contradistinction to sales of goods on credit. [illustration: bill of sale] _certificate of stock_--a written statement or declaration of the purchase of a specified number of shares of the capital stock of a corporation. an evidence of ownership. _certified check_--a check, the payment of which is guaranteed by the bank on which it is drawn. _charges_--the expense involved in handling goods or in performing a specific act--as, for example, charges for storage, freight charges, etc. also a synonym for _debits_. _chart_--a classified exhibit of the components of a business organization, showing the authority and responsibilities of the members. grouping of the accounts of a business with respect to their relation to one another. _charter_--to hire a car, ship, or other instrument of transportation. a document defining the rights and duties of a corporation. _check_--an order on a bank to pay to a certain person, or to the order of such person, a specified sum, which sum is to be charged to the account of the drawer of the check. _clearing house_--an exchange established by banks in cities, for their convenience in making daily settlements. the checks and drafts on the different banks are exchanged without the formality of presenting them personally at each bank. a balance is found, and this amount only is paid in cash. _closing an account_--making an entry that will balance the account. _collateral_--pledges of security--as stocks, bonds, etc.--to protect an obligation or insure the payment of a loan. _commission_--a percentage or share of the proceeds allowed for the sale of merchandise--as the pay of a commission merchant for selling a car of flour. _commission merchant_--one who sells goods on commission. similar to a broker. _commercial paper_--negotiable paper used in business. _common law_--law based upon the precedent of usage, though not contained in the statutes. _company_--a corporation; also used to designate partners whose names are not known. _compromise_--to settle an account for less than the amount claimed. to agree upon a settlement. [illustration: certificate of stock] _consideration_--the price or money paid or to be paid which induces the entering into a contract by two or more persons. _consignee_--the party to whom goods are shipped. a person to whom goods are sent to be sold on commission is a consignee. the goods so sent are known as a _consignment_, and the sender is the _consignor_. _consul_--an agent of the government, residing in a foreign part, who guards the interests of his own government. _contra_--on the opposite side--as a contra account. _contract_--a written agreement between two or more persons to perform or not to perform some specified act or acts. _contingent assets and liabilities_--resources or liabilities whose value depends upon certain conditions. _contingent fund_--a sum put aside to provide for an anticipated obligation; a reserve fund. _conveyance_--a term used to describe certain forms of legal documents transferring from one person to another, title to property or collateral. _copyright_--a right granted to an author or publisher to control the publication of any writing, or the reproduction of a photograph, painting, etc. _counterfeit_--a spurious coin, or bank or treasury note. _coupon_--a certificate detached from a bond, which entitles the holder to the payment of interest. _coupon bond_--bonds to which are attached coupons calling for the payment of interest. the coupons, when detached, become negotiable paper. _credentials_--letters or testimonials conveying authority. _creditor_--one whom we owe; one who gives credit. _currency_--the coin or paper money constituting the circulating medium of a country. _debenture_--a certified evidence of debt. see bond. _debit_--to charge; to record an amount due. _deed_--a written document or contract transferring title to real estate. _defalcation_--the appropriating to one's own use, of money intrusted to him by another; embezzlement. _deferred bonds_--bonds which are to be paid when some condition is fulfilled in the future. _delivery receipt_--an acknowledgment of the delivery of goods. largely used by merchants in the delivery of goods to customers. _demand note_--a promissory note or acceptance payable on presentation or on demand. [illustration] _deposit_--the money placed in custody of the bank, subject to order. _depreciation_--a reduction in the value of property. in a manufacturing plant, buildings and machinery depreciate in value through wear and tear; a residence property may depreciate owing to the nature of a nearby building. [illustration: delivery receipt] _discount_--an allowance or abatement made for the payment of a bill within a specified period. the interest paid in advance on money borrowed from a bank. _dishonor_--refusal to accept a draft, or failure to pay a written obligation when due. [illustration: demand note] _dividend_--the profits which are distributed among the stockholders of a corporation. _draft_--a written order for the payment of money--usually made through some bank. _drawer_--the person by whom the draft is made; the one who requested the payment of money by the drawee. _drayage_--synonymous with cartage. _due bill_--a written acknowledgment of an amount due; of the same effect as a demand note. _dunning_--soliciting or urgently pressing the payment of a debt. _duplicate_--a copy of a paper or document; the act of making a copy. _duty_--the tax paid on imported goods. _doubtful_--of questionable value. we refer to an account as "doubtful" when we question the likelihood of its payment. [illustration: draft] _earnest_--an advance payment, applying on the purchase price, made to bind an oral bargain. _embezzlement_--see defalcation. _exchange_--the charge made by a bank for the collection of drafts or checks. _exports_--commodities sent to another country. _extend_--to set a later date for payment; to add several items and carry the totals to the proper column. _face value_--the amount for which a commercial paper is drawn. _facsimile_--an exact duplicate or exact copy. _financial statement_--a term used in the same sense as _balance sheet_ or _annual statement_. _fiscal_--a financial or business year, in contradistinction to a calendar year. the fiscal year of a business may commence and end on any date--usually on the date on which it was started. _fixed assets_--permanent assets acquired by a firm or corporation to enable them to conduct a business. includes real estate, building, machinery, horses and wagons, etc. _fixed charges_--those charges in connection with the operation of a business which occur at regular intervals, such as rent, taxes, etc. _fixtures_--a fixed asset represented by that part of the furniture not readily removable, such as gas and electric light fixtures. _folio_--a column provided in account books, in which to enter the page numbers of other books from or to which records are transferred. _footing_--the sum or amount of a column of figures. _foreign exchange_--drafts on foreign cities. _freight_--the charges paid for the transportation of goods. _gain_--the increase in value of assets or profit resulting from a transaction or transactions. _gauging_--measuring the liquid contents of casks or barrels. _going business_--a term used to designate a business in actual operation. goodwill or the reputation of a business has a value so long as the business is in operation, or keeps going. when a business is discontinued, only the physical assets or actual properties owned by the business are of value. _good will_--the monetary value of the reputation of a business over and above its visible assets; the value of a business name. _gross_--the entire amount in contradistinction to the net amount--as gross weight or gross profit. _guarantee or guaranty_--surety for the maintenance of quality or the performance of contracts. _honor_--to pay a promissory note when due; to accept or pay a draft. _hypothecate_--to deposit as collateral security for a loan. _import_--to bring goods into the country. _income_--the receipts of a business. _income bonds_--bonds on which the payment of interest is contingent on profits earned. if the interest is passed on account of lack of funds, the holder of the bond has no claim. _indemnity_--security against a form of loss which has occurred or may occur--as fire insurance, against loss by fire. _indorse_--to guarantee the payment of commercial paper by writing one's name on the back. _indorsee_--the person to whom a paper is indorsed. [illustration: lease] _indorser_--the person who guarantees payment; the one who indorses. _infringe; infringement_--to trespass upon another's rights--as infringement of a patent or copyright. _installment_--an account or note the payment of which is to be made in several parts, at stated intervals. _insolvent_--unable to pay one's obligations. _instant_--principally used in correspondence to indicate the present month. _insurance policy_--a contract between an insurance company and the insured. _interest_--the sum or premium paid for the use of money; one's share in a business or a particular property. _inventory_--an itemized schedule of the property or goods belonging to a business. _investment_--money paid for goods or property to be held; not for speculation. _invoice_--a list of goods bought or sold. see bill. _jobber_--one who buys from manufacturers and sells to retailers; a middleman. _job lot_--an incomplete assortment of goods to be disposed of in a lump. usually indicates small portions or remnants of a stock, the bulk of which has been sold. _joint stock_--property owned in common by several individuals known as stockholders. _leakage_--an allowance for waste of liquids in transit; refers particularly to liquids shipped in casks. _lease_--a written agreement covering the use of property during a specified period, at a stated rental. _legal tender_--the lawful amount to be offered in payment of an obligation. bank notes or other currency which passes for money. _lessee_--one who receives a lease. the _lessor_ makes it. _letter of advice_--a letter giving notice of some act in which the one receiving the advice has an interest--as making a shipment, notice of draft, etc. _letter of credit_--a letter which authorizes the receiving, by the holder, of credit to a stated amount. principally used by travelers to secure credit from foreign bankers. _liabilities_--the obligations or debts of a firm, corporation, or individual. _license_--permission, usually granted by a municipality, to conduct a specified business. _liquidation_--the closing-out of a business or an estate. _loss and gain_--the amount of profits or losses of a business. _maker_--one who signs a note. _manifest_--a list or schedule of the articles in a ship's cargo, or of the goods comprising a shipment. [illustration: order] _maturity_--the time when an obligation or an account is due. _mercantile agency_--a company which obtains and keeps for the use of its customers information showing the standing of business firms. _merchandise_--the stock in trade, or goods bought to be sold again. _money order_--an order instructing a third party to pay money to the person named. a form in which money is transmitted. _monopoly_--the exclusive control of the manufacture or sale of an article. _mortgage_--a temporary transfer of title to land, goods, or chattels to secure payment of a debt. _mortgagor_--one who gives a mortgage. the one to whom the mortgage is given is the _mortgagee_. _negotiable_--an agreement or any commercial paper which can be transferred by delivery or endorsement--as a bank note or promissory note. _net_--less all charges or deductions. _gross_ assets less liabilities leaves _net_ capital; _gross_ income less all expenses leaves _net_ profit; etc. _nominal_--having no actual existence; exists in name only. _obligation_--indebtedness. _open account_--an account which has not been paid. _opening entries_--the entries made in the books when it is desired to open the accounts of a business. _option_--the right to be the first purchaser; a privilege. _orders_--requests for the shipment of goods. _original entry_--the first record made of a charge or credit which becomes the basis of proof of the account. _overdraw_--to draw a check for a greater amount than the drawer has on deposit in a bank. _par_--face value. _partnership_--a firm; a union of two or more persons for the transaction of business or the ownership of property. _payee_--the one to whom money is to be paid. the one who pays the money is the _payer_. _per annum_--by the year. _per cent_ or _per centum_--by the hundred. _per diem_--by the day. _personal account_--any account with an individual, firm, or corporation. _personal property_--all property other than real estate. _petty cash_--a term used to signify small expenditures in actual cash. _postdate_--to date ahead; after the real date. _post_--to transfer amounts from books of entry to the ledger, which is the book of final record. _power of attorney_--authority to act for and in the name of another in business transactions. _preferred stock_--stock which participates in the profits before any dividend can be paid on the common or ordinary stock. _premium_--the amount paid above par value; the amount paid to an insurance company for insurance against loss. _present worth_--the net capital of an individual. _proceeds_--the amount realized from a sale of property. _profit and loss_--synonymous with loss and gain. _promissory note_--a promise, signed by the maker or makers, to pay a stated sum at a specified time and place. [illustration: promissory note] _pro rata_--a distribution of money or goods in proportionate parts. _protest_--a formal notice acknowledged before a notary that a note or draft was not paid at maturity, and that the maker will be held responsible for the payment. _quotation_--a price named for a given article or for services. _ratify_--to approve; to sanction the acts of an agent. _raw material_--material to be manufactured into other products--as iron ore, pig iron, lumber, etc. _real estate_--primarily refers to land, although buildings are frequently included. _rebate_--an allowance or deduction. see allowance. _receipt_--an acknowledgment that money or something of value has been received. _receiver_--one appointed to take charge of the affairs of a corporation, either solvent or insolvent, and administer its affairs under orders of the court. _remittance_--money or funds of any character transmitted from one place to another. [illustration: power of attorney] _renewal note_--a new note given to take the place of a note that is due. _rent_--a payment for the use of property owned by another. _resources_--synonymous with assets. _revenue_--income of a business. _revoke_--to recall authority of another to act as agent. _royalty_--a stipulated amount paid to the owner of a mine, patent, copyright, etc., usually based on sales. the owner of a copyright receives a royalty based on the number of books sold. [illustration: receipt] _schedule_--inventory of goods or statement of prices. _sight draft_--a draft payable on presentation or at sight. _solvent_--able to pay one's debts. _statement_--commonly used to designate a list of bills to customers during a stated period. also used to designate a financial summary showing profits and losses of a business. _stockholder_--an owner of stock in a corporation or joint stock company. _storage_--the charge for keeping goods in a store or warehouse. _surety_--one who has guaranteed or made himself responsible for the acts of another. _syndicate_--a combination of capitalists, usually temporary, for the conduct of some financial enterprise. _tare_--the amount deducted from gross weights to cover weight of packages--as crates, boxes, barrels, etc. _tariff_--a schedule of prices, as freight tariff. the duties imposed on imports or exports. _terms_--the conditions governing a given sale. "terms cash" means that payment is to be made as soon as goods are delivered. _tickler_--memoranda of matters requiring attention in the future, arranged according to dates. _time draft_--a draft which matures at some future date. _trade discount_--the discount allowed by a manufacturer to a jobber or by a jobber to a retailer. [illustration: statement] _trade mark_--see brand. _ultimo_--principally used in correspondence to designate last month. _valid_--legal or binding; usually applied to a properly executed contract. _value received_--used in notes to indicate that value has been given. _void_--without legal force; not binding. _voucher_--a receipt; a document which proves the accuracy of an account or the authority for an expenditure. [illustration: voucher] _warehouse_--a building used for storage purposes. _warehouse receipt_--a document acknowledging the receipt of goods for storage in a warehouse. _warranty_--an agreement to assume responsibility if certain facts do not prove as represented. _way bill_--a document containing a list of goods shipped by a railroad. _wholesale_--a business which sells goods in large quantities, usually in original packages and to the trade only. _working capital_--the capital actually used in the active operations of a business. commercial abbreviations the commercial abbreviations in the following list are in constant use in the various lines of trade, and should be thoroughly understood by the student of accounting. a 1 first-class acct. account ad advertisement agt. agent amt. amount ans. answer art. article asstd. assorted ass't. assistant atty. attorney bal. balance bbl. barrel b. b. bill book bds. boards bdls. bundles bgs. bags bk. book bkt. basket b. l. or b/l bill of lading bls. bales bot. bought b. p. or b/p bills payable bro't. brought b. r. or b/r bills receivable b. ren'd. bill rendered bu. bushel bx. box c. b. cash book ¢ or cts. cents chgd. charged c. i. f. cost, insurance, and freight ck. check cks. casks, checks co. company c. o. d. collect on delivery coll. collect or collector com. commission com'l. commercial cons'd. consigned const. consignment cr. credit or creditor ctg. cartage cwt. hundredweight d. b. day book dept. department dft. draft dis. or disc't. discount div. dividend do. or ditto the same doz. dozen dr. debit or debtor ds. days ea. each e. e. error excepted e. and o. e. errors and omissions excepted e. g. for example ent. entry or enter ent'd. entered etc. or &c. and others; and so forth exch. exchange ex. express exp. expense exr. executor f. o. b. free on board fol. folio; page of a book f'd, ford. forward frt. freight ft. foot, feet gal. gallon gr. grain gro. or gr. gross guar. guaranteed hdkf. handkerchief hhd. hogshead hund. hundred i. b. invoice book in. inches ins. insurance inst. instant (this month) int. interest inv. invoice invt. inventory i. o. u. i owe you; a due bill j. journal lb. pound lbr. lumber lab. labor manf. manufacture mdse. merchandise mem. memorandum mfd. manufactured mfst. manifest mfr. manufacturer mo. or mo. month mtg. mortgage ms. manuscript mut. mutual nat. or nat'l. national n. b. take notice no. number n. p. notary public, net proceeds o. b. order book o. k. all correct; approved oz. ounce p. page pp. pages pay't or pm't. payment pc. piece pcs. pieces p. b. pass book p. c. b. petty cash book pd. paid per. by; by the per an. by the year pk. peck pkg. package pop. population pref. preferred prem. premium pro. proceeds prop'r. proprietor prox. next month p. s. postscript pub. publisher qr. or qr. quarter, quire qt. or qt. quart rec'd. received ret'd. returned r. r. railroad ry. railway s. b. sales book s. e. single entry sec. secretary shipt. shipment shs. shares sig. signature s. s. steamship s. s. to wit; namely st. dft. sight draft sund. sundry supt. superintendent sq. square t. b. trial balance; time book ult. ultimo; last month via. by way of viz. namely vol. volume vs. against w. b. way bill wk. week wt. or wt. weight yr. year yd. or yds. yard or yards commercial signs and characters the signs and characters most commonly used in business are the following: @ to or at a/c account b/l bill of lading b/r bills receivable or bill rendered b/p bills payable b/s bill of sale ¢ cents c/o care of d/d days after date d/s days after sight f/b free on board j/a joint account l/c letter of credit l/m letters of marque £ pounds sterling o/c on account o/c out of courtesy % per cent p per $ dollars # number, if written before a figure, as #25; pounds, if written after, as 25# [check mark] check mark " ditto ° degrees ' prime; minute; feet " seconds; inches; also used as ditto marks 1¹ one and one-fourth 1² one and one-half 1³ one and three-fourths + plus minus × by or times ÷ divided by = equals definition and objects of bookkeeping 1. bookkeeping is the art of recording the transactions of a business in a manner that makes it possible to determine the accuracy of the records. the objects of bookkeeping are: (_a_) to exhibit a record of the separate transactions of a business. (_b_) to furnish statistical information in respect to any particular class of transactions. (_c_) to exhibit the financial standing or condition of a business. when properly assembled the bookkeeping records become _accounts_ (for definition, see dictionary of commercial terms). if correct methods are used, the bookkeeping records will be assembled or grouped in a manner to show their exact nature and their bearing on the status of the business, or the standing of the account. =2. debit.= the term _debit_ designates those items in an account representing values with which we have parted, or transferred to another person or account. debits are always placed on the left side (or in the left-hand column) of an account. debits to persons are of the following classes: (_a_) the transfer of merchandise. (_b_) the rendering of services. (_c_) the use of something of value. _examples_-(_a_) we sell to john doe two tons of coal at $7.50 per ton. we _debit_ his account with the amount. (_b_) we render services to thos. ryan for which he is to pay us a stated fee. we _debit_ his account with the amount of the fee. (_c_) we are to pay rent for the use of our offices. our landlord _debits_ us with the amount. =3. credit.= the term _credit_ designates those items in an account representing value which we have received or which has been transferred to us. credits are always placed on the right side (or in the right-hand column) of an account. credits to persons are of the following classes: (_a_) the receipt of merchandise or money. (_b_) the rendering of services. (_c_) the use of something of value. _examples_-(_a_) john doe pays us $10.00 on account. we _credit_ his account with the amount. (_b_) our attorney makes a charge for legal services. we _credit_ his account with the amount. (_c_) we rent or lease property to another; and when payment is made, we _credit_ his account. =4. rules for debit and credit.= debit and credit are the fundamental principles of bookkeeping. the general rules to be followed in debits and credits are: debit cash when you receive it. debit a person when you trust him. debit a person when you pay him. credit cash when you pay it out. credit a person when he trusts you. credit a person when he pays you. =5. balance.= when the two sides of an account differ in amount, it is said to show a balance. if the debit side of the account is the larger, the difference is a _debit balance_. if the credit side of the account is the larger, the difference is a _credit balance_. _example_--if we debit john doe's account for two tons of coal at $7.50 a ton, or $15.00 (see example (_a_), article 2), and credit his account with $10.00 paid (see example (_a_), article 3), the debit side of the account is $5.00 greater than the credit side. therefore it shows a debit balance. methods of bookkeeping 6. there are but two methods or systems of bookkeeping, and they are known as _single entry_ and _double entry_. no matter in what form bookkeeping records are kept, the method must be either single or double entry. single entry is used only in very small businesses or by those who do not understand the advantages of double entry. single entry 7. as the name indicates, single entry is a single record of the transaction--that is, a record of one phase of the transaction only. _example_--john doe's account would show that he received two tons of coal, but there would be no corresponding account to show that our supply of coal had been diminished. single entry fails to fulfil the object of bookkeeping, as it does not exhibit the true financial condition of the business, and is incapable of proof of accuracy. double entry 8. double entry is a system of making two entries (or a double record) of every transaction. in every business transaction, two distinct factors are involved--namely, that which is received, and that which is parted with. if we sell a given quantity of a commodity, we part with it, and the sale takes from or decreases the value of that particular commodity in our possession. if we sell for cash, the transaction adds to our cash possessions; while if the value of the commodity is debited or charged to the account of a customer, it adds to the amount we are to receive from that customer. =9. principle of double entry.= double entry is a system of debits and credits. one writer expresses it as a system of opposing contra things. _the fundamental principle of double entry is that there must be a corresponding credit for every debit._ _example_--when we sell john doe two tons of coal, we debit his account; but we have decreased the value of our stock of coal, and to complete the double entry, we credit coal account (or _merchandise_, as the account representing our stock in trade is sometimes known). when he pays us money, we credit his account, and debit cash. =10. advantages of double entry.= the principal advantages of double entry bookkeeping are that the system permits of making an accurate exhibit of the standing of the business; it exhibits the profits and losses; it shows the sources of profits and the causes of losses; it permits of proof of the accuracy of the records. [illustration] 11. _account books_ are ruled with special forms which adapt them to bookkeeping records. the forms of ruling are many and varied to suit the requirements of different classes of business. rulings for double entry bookkeeping do not differ materially from those used in single entry. for double entry, at least two amount columns must be provided--one for debits, and one for credits. the most common form of ruling is known as _journal ruling_. a book with this ruling is also known as a _journal ledger_. the words in parentheses explain the purpose of the different columns. the abbreviations _dr._ (debit) and _cr._ (credit) are sometimes written at the head of the amount column; but most bookkeepers omit them, as the position of the columns indicates their purpose. demonstration to illustrate the manner of entering transactions in accounts, we show in the accompanying diagrams how the transactions used in the foregoing examples would appear in the proper accounts. [illustration] examples for practice 1. on journal ruled paper, which can be procured at any stationer's, write up the account of john doe as per example given in articles 2 and 3. 2. write up the account of john doe, showing also the accounts necessary to complete the double entry, as per example in article 11. 3. write up the accounts covering the following transactions, by the single entry method: nov. 16. sold to james stevenson 4 cords of wood, at $4.75 per cord. sold to andrew white 2½ tons of coal, at $6.00 a ton. nov. 17. sold to wm. johnson 1 ton of coal, at $7.00 a ton. nov. 19. received from james stevenson $12.00 cash, to apply on account. nov. 20. received from wm. johnson $7.00 in payment of account. 4. write up the same accounts by the double entry method, using a merchandise account to represent all classes of merchandise sold. classes of account books 12. account books are of two classes: (_a_) those in which complete records of transactions, or complete accounts, are kept; (_b_) those which contain particulars of individual transactions which must afterward be transferred to books of the (_a_) class. books of the (_a_) class are known as _principal books_ or _books of record_; that is, they contain the final or permanent record of an account. books of the (_b_) class are of two kinds: (_ba_) books of _original entry_; (_bb_) _auxiliary books_. any book which contains the first (or original) record of a transaction is a book of original entry (_ba_). [illustration] [illustration: a corner in the offices of the platt iron works, dayton, ohio] any book in which records contained in books of original entry (_ba_) are assembled, to be transferred later to principal books (_a_), is an auxiliary book. any book used for the purpose of assembling statistical information is an auxiliary book. the books most commonly used in double entry bookkeeping are: _order book_, _day book_, _cash book_, _journal_, _sales book_, _purchase book_, _ledger_. =13. order book.= an order book is a book of original entry in which is entered a record of each order or request for the shipment or delivery of merchandise. the record shows the name and address of the customer, the kinds and quantities of goods wanted, and the prices at which they are to be sold. the ruling of the order book varies according to the nature of the business. a simple form of ruling is shown. =14. day book.= a day book is a book of original entry in which are entered full particulars of each completed transaction. these records are afterwards assembled in auxiliary books, from which they are transferred to the principal books. [illustration] the use of the day book was formerly universal, but it has been discarded by modern bookkeepers as its use involves unnecessary labor. the records formerly kept in the day book are now made directly in certain books then known as auxiliary, which makes of them books of original entry. the ruling of the day book is shown. =15. cash book.= a cash book is a book of original entry containing records of all transactions which involve either the receipt or payment of cash. the records in the cash book are in fact a complete account with cash. we debit cash for all money received, and credit cash with all money paid out; therefore, the difference between the total footings of the debit and credit sides of the cash book shows the amount of cash which we should have on hand. since we cannot pay out more than we receive, the debit side should be the larger, unless both sides are equal, which shows that we have paid out all the cash received. the amounts entered on the debit side of the cash book are transferred (or _posted_) to the credit side of the account of the one from whom the cash is received. the amounts entered on the credit side of the cash book are posted to the debit side of the account of the one to whom the cash is paid. [illustration] there are many special forms of ruling for cash books, with separate columns for entering certain classes of receipts and payments of a special nature. the ruling of the cash book should be made to meet the requirements of the business in which it is to be used. a simple form of ruling is shown. it will be noted that the left-hand page is used for the debit side, while the right-hand page is used for credits. this is the only account kept with cash. =16. journal.= a journal is a book in which separate transactions are entered in a manner to preserve the balance necessary in double entry--that is, showing the proper debit and credit for each transaction. the journal is used for making adjusting entries, and it was formerly the custom to copy into this book from the day book the particulars of every transaction. records are now made in the journal directly, which makes it a book of original entry. the records in the journal are transferred or posted to the debit and credit sides of the accounts which they represent. the journal is frequently combined with the cash book, and is then called a _cash journal_. an ordinary form of journal ruling is shown in article 11. =17. sales book.= a sales book is an auxiliary book in which is kept a record of all goods sold, showing name of purchaser, quantity and kind of articles, prices, and amounts. a sales book is a journal of sales. the amounts of individual sales are posted (transferred) to the debit side of the accounts of the purchasers. the footings of the sales book are carried forward until the end of the month, when the total amount is posted as one item to the credit side of the _merchandise_ account, completing the double entry. the merchandise account has been universally used in the past, all purchases being debited and all sales credited to this account. certain other accounts (which will be explained later) are now recommended by leading accountants, to take the place of the merchandise account. sales books are usually ruled to meet the special needs of each business, separate columns being provided for a record of special classes of sales, or sales of special kinds of goods. =18. purchase book.= a purchase or invoice book is the opposite of the sales book, being used for a record of all purchases made. like the sales book, the totals are carried forward to the end of the month, and posted as one item to the debit side of the _merchandise_ account. the amounts of the separate transactions are posted daily to the credit of the persons from whom the goods are purchased. [illustration] the purchase book is a purchase journal, and the ruling is the same as that of other journals. =19. ledger.= the ledger is the principal book, in which particulars of every transaction of every nature are summarized. it is, in fact, a transcript of all other books of the business except those used solely for statistical purposes. the ledger is the book which contains the final or complete records of all dealings, either with an individual or with respect to a specific class of transactions--as expenditures for a certain purpose, or receipts of a given character, or sales of a given kind of goods. a transcript of the ledger accounts exhibits the progress and standing of the business. like other books, ledgers are now made with special forms of ruling, depending on the purpose for which they are to be used. the old style or common form of ledger ruling is shown (p. 35). =20. invoice or bill.= an invoice or bill is an itemized statement or record of goods sold by one person to another. the invoice or bill is used in every line of business. a conventional form of invoice is shown (p. 5). recording transactions =21.= the records of transactions in the journal which show what accounts are debited and what accounts are credited are called _journal entries_. the act of making these entries is known as _journalizing_. it was formerly the custom to journalize each individual transaction from the day book, but in modern bookkeeping the journal is used only for adjusting and special entries. =22. posting.= when the record of a transaction is transferred to the ledger from a book of class (_b_), it is said to be _posted_. the act of making the transfer is called _posting_. the original method was to itemize all transactions in the ledger, but the present custom is to post the totals only. =23.= when a record is transferred from one book of class (_b_) to another, or posted to the ledger, the page number of the book to or from which it is transferred or posted is entered in the column known as the _folio column_. this is done that the transaction may be traced from one book to another. the presence of the page number also serves as a check to show that the item has been posted. _example_--an item is to be posted from page 1 of the sales book to page 10 of the ledger. in the folio column of the ledger will be entered "s 1" indicating that the item will be found on page 1 of the sales book. in the folio column of the sales book will be entered "10" indicating that the item has been posted to page 10 of the ledger. =24. ledger index.= an index to the ledger is necessary to enable us to find the accounts. in small ledgers the index is placed in the front of the book itself, while for large ledgers a separate index book is used. there is a distinct advantage in this, as the index book can be kept open on the desk while posting is being done, and the names found much quicker than when it is necessary to turn the leaves of the ledger to find the index. when an account is opened in the ledger, the name should be written in the index, followed by the page number. the names in the index are arranged in alphabetical order, each name being written under the letter of the alphabet corresponding to the first letter in the name. for example: =a= =b= =c= adams, j. c. 11 bacon, i. h. 2 crandall, jas. 7 andrews, henry 14 brown, henry 9 campbell, don. 12 in a large index, one or more pages are used for a letter; while in a small index, several letters may be placed on the same page. sample transactions =25.= the following sample transactions are carried through the books described in this section, showing the proper entries and postings (see pp. 40-43). the day book has been omitted, as it is practically obsolete, not being used by progressive bookkeepers. muskegon, mich., nov. 1, 1907. i, robert b. robinson, have this day commenced business as a wholesale dealer in groceries and provisions. i have rented the store located at 68 pine st., from geo. baker, at $40.00 a month. my resources and liabilities are as follows: resources cash on hand $2,462.50 merchandise per inventory 1,147.20 due me from roger bros. 219.40 liabilities c. b. whitney, grand rapids $ 126.90 my net investment 3,702.20 --nov. 1- bought from grand rapids gro. co., grand rapids, mich. on account 10 cwt. sugar $4.85 $ 48.50 10 bbls. flour 5.25 52.50 150 " salt 1.10 165.00 2 " molasses 48 50,98 gals. .30 29.40 $295.40 --1- paid geo. baker for 1 month's rent cash 40.00 --2- sold to geo. wiggins, 110 ottawa st. on account 1 box b. b. soap 3.75 1 case x. x. corn 1.60 100# soda biscuit 4.25 9.60 --3- sold to smith & nixon, 262 western av. on account 2 bbl. flour 6.15 12.30 2 cwt. sugar 5.15 10.30 1 bbl. molasses, 48 gal. .35 16.80 39.40 --5- bought from william bratton, 48 jefferson av., detroit on account 10 sacks java coffee, 1,000# .25 250.00 --6- sent to c. b. whitney, grand rapids draft to balance account 126.90 --7- sold to h. a. brainerd, 961 lake av. on account 2 bbls. salt 1.35 2.70 10# baking powder .42 4.20 6.90 --8- charge grand rapids gro. co. 1 bbl. flour received in bad order 5.25 --9- sold to bryan bros., lakeside on account 2 bbls. salt 1.35 2.70 20# raisins .08 1.60 4.30 --10- bought from h. a. edwin, chicago on account 20 bbls. pork 10.30 206.00 --12- sold for cash 3 bbl. pork 11.35 34.05 --13- sold to r. c. ellison, 10 jefferson av. on account 2 bbl. pork 11.40 22.80 5 bu. beans 2.10 10.50 33.30 --14- received from geo. wiggins cash to balance 9.60 --15- sent to grand rapids gro. co. draft to balance 290.15 --16- sold for cash 1 box soap 3.75 --17- received from smith & nixon cash on account 25.00 [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] promissory notes =26.= a promissory note is a form of commercial paper much used in business. goods are sold on specific terms--that is, to be paid for in a certain time after date. profits are based on the supposition that the bills will be paid when due. when not so paid, the debtor is virtually borrowing money from the creditor, and should pay interest for the use of that money just as he would if he had borrowed it from a bank. to settle the account when it is not convenient to pay cash, it is customary to give a promissory note for the amount, plus interest, payable on a certain date. the promissory note is more convenient for the creditor; for when it bears his endorsement, his bankers will discount it, thus giving him the money for use in his business. even though he may not discount it, the promissory note is better for the creditor, as it gives him a definite promise to pay, which he does not have when the debt is represented by an open account. =27. bills receivable and bills payable.= the commercial term for promissory notes accepted by us is _bills receivable_. the commercial term for promissory notes given by us is _bills payable_. the term "bill" is used in this connection for the reason that a promissory note is a negotiable instrument, and when indorsed it becomes practically a bill of exchange. the accounts in the ledger which represent notes receivable and notes payable are called _bills receivable account_ and _bills payable account_. the bills receivable account is debited when a note is received, and credited when a note is paid. the balance of bills receivable account shows the amount of unpaid notes payable to us. the bills payable account is credited when we give a note and debited when we pay a note. the balance of bills payable account shows the amount of the notes that we owe. =28. bill book.= for the purpose of keeping a record of bills receivable and bills payable, a book known as a _bill book_ is used. any draft, note, due bill, or other written promise to pay a specified sum at a stated time, should be treated as a note or bill--receivable or payable, as the case may be. the bill book is an auxiliary book, and the record kept is usually treated as a memorandum only, records of each transaction being made in the journal. the form shown (p. 45) is one in common use. [illustration] =29. acceptances.= a draft when accepted--that is, when it becomes an _acceptance_--has the same value as a promissory note, for it is a definite promise to pay on a specified date. drafts are used for the collection of accounts in other cities than the one in which the creditor's place of business is located. a draft may call for payment a certain number of days after date, or it may call for payment at sight. the former is known as a _time draft_, while the latter is a _sight draft_. =30. discount and exchange.= when a promissory note is taken to the bank for the purpose of raising money, it is customary for the banks to calculate the interest for the time the note is to run, and to deduct this from the principal, giving the borrower the net amount only. in other words, the interest is paid in advance, and such advance payment of interest is called _discount_. when a draft is collected through a bank, a small fee is charged, and this fee is called _exchange_. exchange is also charged for the collection of out-of-town checks, especially if they are drawn on banks in small towns and cities. bank deposits =31.= when money is deposited in a bank, a list of the items in the deposit is made on a blank known as a _deposit ticket_ or _deposit slip_. these deposit tickets are furnished by the bank for the convenience of its customers. =32. signature card.= money deposited in a bank can be withdrawn only by presenting a written order or _check_, signed by the one in whose name the money is deposited. that the bank may know that money is not paid on checks that do not bear the correct signature, each depositor is required to leave at the bank the signature or signatures which are to be honored. these signatures are written on a card, known as a _signature card_, which the bank keeps for reference. =33. check books.= blank checks are usually bound in book form, the checks themselves being perforated so that they can be easily removed. these _check books_ are in most cases furnished by the bank. the number of checks on a page varies, but is seldom more than four. when a check is written, the number, date, name, and amount should be written on the face of the stub. to keep a convenient record of the balance in the bank, it is well to enter a list of all checks and deposits on the back of the check stubs. [illustration: signature card] =34. pass book.= the bank _pass-book_ should be taken to the bank whenever a deposit is made, as it contains the bank's receipt for all money deposited. =35. indorsement of checks.= before a check can be deposited in the bank, it must be indorsed by writing the name of the payee across the back. the indorsement should be on the back of the left end of the check--never on the right end. several forms of indorsement are shown (p. 48). when the name only is written, it makes the check payable to the bearer, and is known as a _blank indorsement_. when the words "pay to" are used, the check becomes payable to the one whose, name appears immediately under the words. it can only be paid to him in person or credited to his account at any bank at which he may deposit the check. a check indorsed with the words "pay to the order of" permits of a further transfer, and provides a receipt from the one to whom it is so indorsed. when a check is to be deposited, the proper indorsement is "for deposit only." this is of special importance when deposits are sent by messenger. such indorsements usually include the name of the bank, and are made with a rubber stamp. =36. depositing cash.= it is a good plan to deposit all cash received and to pay all bills by check, except such small items as are paid from petty cash. by doing this, all transactions pass through the bank, providing a receipt in every case in the form of a canceled check bearing the indorsement of the payee. [illustration: endorsement] =37. treatment of petty cash.= it is customary in business establishments to keep on hand a certain sum of cash out of which to pay items of expense such as office supplies, etc., when the amount is too small or it is not convenient to write a check. the best way to handle this is to draw a check for a certain amount, and keep this money separate from the cash received from day to day. at the end of the month, or sooner if the fund is low, draw a check payable to cash for the amount paid out and charge it to expense. this will leave the fund intact. _example_--we shall suppose the amount of petty cash to be kept on hand to be $25.00; and the amount paid out, $15.60, leaving $9.40 on hand. a check will be made for $15.60, to be charged to expense through the regular cash book. the cash will be drawn from the bank, and the amount added to the $9.40, making a total of $25.00. a record of petty cash is usually kept in a small book called a _petty cash book_. this book has the regular two-column journal ruling. in handling petty cash, great care should be taken to secure a receipt in some form for every payment. [illustration: a bird's-eye view of the beloit, wis., factory of the fairbanks-morse co.] sample transactions =38.= the following sample transactions taken from the books of w. b. clark, ames, ia., illustrate the use of the papers and accounts explained in this section, and show how the transactions would appear on the books. mr. clark is a shipper of produce, and a retail dealer in coal. his assets and liabilities are as follows: assets cash in bank $1,262.78 inventory, produce 685.00 " coal 747.50 geo. white--open account 21.00 f. h. russel " " 7.00 henry brown " " 8.00 o. l. duncan--note due dec. 1 27.00 $2,758.28 ------- liabilities iowa coal co., des moines, open acct. $120.00 lehigh coal co., chicago, ill., open acct. 325.00 george hardy, open account 60.00 505.00 -------as he wishes to know how much business he is doing in each department of his business, he keeps accounts in the ledger with both produce and coal instead of one merchandise account. in the sales book, one column is used for coal sales, and one for produce sales. no purchase book is kept, all purchases being posted from the journal or cash book. --oct. 22- bought from david andrews, for cash 200 bu. potatoes @ .42c $84.00 paid by check no. 11. --22- sold to albert long on account 2 tons run of mine coal $3.25 6.50 --23- received from geo. white on account cash 10.00 --24- sold to taft produce co., des moines, on account 148 bu. beans 3.10 458.80 --24- drew from bank for petty cash 10.00 check no. 12. --25- sold to geo. hardy on account 1½ tons nut coal 9.00 13.50 gave him check no. 13. 46.50 --27- gave to lehigh coal co., chicago. 60-day note 200.00 check no. 14. 125.00 --28- taft produce co. paid sight draft through iowa national bank 458.80 --29- accepted 30-day draft made by iowa coal co. 120.00 payable at ames state bank --30- deposited in ames state bank draft iowa national bank 458.80 cash 10.00 --30- paid for repairs to stove, cash 1.20 --31- sold for cash, ½ ton egg coal 4.50 [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: accounting department in the new york office of j. walter thompson company] theory of accounts part ii classes of accounts =39.= in double entry bookkeeping, the accounts used may be divided into the two general classes of _personal_ and _impersonal_. for the purpose of more complete classification, the second class is further subdivided into _real_, _representative_, and _nominal_ accounts. =40. personal accounts.= a personal account is a record of transactions with a particular person or persons. _examples_-a record of transactions with persons who buy goods from us. a record of transactions with persons from whom we buy goods. [illustration] =41. real account.= a real account is a record of transactions with respect to a particular property. properties which we possess are termed _resources_ or _assets_; therefore all real accounts are also _asset accounts_. [illustration] _examples_-real estate (land and buildings), machinery, furniture, merchandise, etc. =42. representative account.= a representative account is a summary of all debit or credit transactions of a particular class with respect to several personal accounts. the debit or credit to this account completes the double entry, and illustrates the rule that in double entry there must be a credit for every debit. _example_-we sell goods to a number of customers, and the amounts of these sales are debited to their several accounts. to complete the double entry, we credit the total amount of these sales to an account called _sales account_. the total credits to this account during any given period _represent_ the sales to all customers for the same period, and the sales account is a _representative_ account. the total debits to all customers' accounts for goods purchased in one month amount to $1,423.62. this amount is credited to the sales account. likewise the purchases for the same period amount to $947.20, and the several amounts are credited to the personal accounts of those from whom the purchases were made, while a like amount is debited to a representative account known as a purchase account. [illustration] =43. nominal account.= a nominal account is a record of transactions having to do with profit and loss; a record of a particular class of expenditures from which no direct returns are expected; any impersonal account which does not come under the classification of real or representative accounts. _example_-we buy coal to be used in heating our building. the coal is not to be resold, but its use is necessary; it is one of the expenses of conducting the business, and we charge the amount to an _expense_ account. expense is a _nominal_ account kept for the purpose of showing the total expenses of the business. [illustration] =44. merchandise account.= the merchandise account is a real account formerly much used, but discarded by modern accountants. when used, this account is debited with all purchases of merchandise and credited with all sales. the account is also charged with all goods returned by our customers, and credited with all goods which we return to those from whom we have purchased them. goods returned by our customers are charged at the prices at which they were purchased by the customers; consequently the debit side of the merchandise account does not furnish a true exhibit of our purchases; neither is the credit side a true exhibit of our sales. since the merchandise account furnished no valuable information, other accounts which exhibit more vital statistics have been substituted. =45.= _purchase account_ is one of the accounts substituted for the merchandise account. this account is charged with all purchases as represented by the footings of the purchase book or purchase journal. this completes the double entry, the separate purchases having been credited to the personal accounts of those from whom the goods were purchased. all returns or other similar deductions allowed on purchase invoices are charged to those from whom the purchases were made and credited to purchase account. the balance of the purchase account then shows the total net purchases. =46.= _sales account_ takes the place of the credit side of the merchandise account. all sales as shown by the footings of the sales book are credited to the sales account, completing the double entry. all returns and allowances are likewise charged to the sales account. the balance of the sales account shows total net sales. sample transactions =47.= the following transactions, properly recorded in journal sales book, purchase book, and ledger, demonstrate the uses of the merchandise, purchase, and sales accounts explained in the preceding paragraphs: --sept. 20- bought from american furniture co., grand rapids 2 #four-drawer v f cabinets $11.00 $22.00 4 #35 card sections 4.20 16.80 1 #35 top 1.75 1 #35 base 1.25 $41.80 ----- --21- bought from morgan printing co., chicago 5,000 #1 plain ruled #35 cards .90 4.50 3,000 #1 ledger " #35 " 1.50 4.50 2,000 #1 " " #46 " 2.00 4.00 13.00 ----- --22- sold to ackers & co., 224 randolph st. 4 #35 sections 5.50 22.00 1 #35 top 2.25 1 #35 base 1.75 26.00 ----- --23- sold to thompson & co., 94 monroe st. 2,000 #1 plain ruled 35 cards 1.25 2.50 --24- received from ackers & co. 1 #35 section 5.50 (damaged) --25- shipped to american furniture co. 1 #35 section 4.20 (received in bad order) in the first demonstration, the footings of the sales and purchase books, as well as the returns entered in the journal, are posted to a merchandise account. it will be noted that the debit side of the merchandise account does not represent the actual purchases, and the credit side does not represent the sales. in the second demonstration, the purchase and sales accounts are used. total sales are credited to sales account from purchase book, and returns credited from the journal. the balances of these accounts show actual net purchases and sales. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] classes of assets =48.= asset accounts are accounts representing resources or assets of the business. assets are classified as _fixed_; _active_ or _floating_; _passive_ or _speculative_; _fictitious_. _fixed assets_ are those permanent forms of property which are a necessary part of the equipment used for conducting the business--such as real estate, buildings, machinery, etc. _active_ or _floating assets_ are those forms of property of which the quantity in our possession varies from day to day--as merchandise, accounts, cash, etc. _passive_ or _speculative assets_ are those (_a_) whose values are not readily determined, or (_b_) whose values are subject to market fluctuations--as, for example, (_a_) franchises, copyrights, patents; (_b_) stocks, bonds, or other speculative securities. _fictitious assets_ are those which are not represented by tangible property, or which are of value to a going business but would have no market value if the business were closed out or liquidated. these assets are frequently represented by an expense account on the books. the initial advertising expense necessary to launch the business successfully is frequently carried on the books as an asset. the amount of such advertising expense is spread over a stated period, a certain proportion being charged into the regular expense accounts each year until the entire amount is used. =49. examples of fixed assets.= the assets of an ordinary mercantile business are of the first two classes only--fixed and floating. the most common forms of fixed assets of such a business are: _real estate_--generally understood to include land and buildings owned and used in the business. _furniture and fixtures_--represented by office and store furniture, shelving, counters, stoves, furnaces or other heating appliances, lighting fixtures. _horses and wagons_ or _trucks_--including all horses, wagons, trucks, harness, or motor-cars used for hauling goods. if the business is one in which these classes of property are dealt in, they become active assets. land, for example, would be one of the _active_ assets of a business organized to buy and sell real estate. =50. examples of floating assets.= the active or floating assets of a mercantile business are: _merchandise_--meaning the stock in trade or goods dealt in. _accounts_--the open accounts of customers who owe for goods purchased. _notes_ or _bills receivable_--all outstanding notes payable to the firm. _cash_--the amount of cash on hand and in the bank. =51. examples of passive assets.= passive or speculative assets are more frequently found on the books of a manufacturing business, a corporation, or a business a part or whole of which has been sold by the original owners. examples of these assets are: _patents_--a manufacturer owns a patent the value of which depends upon future profits resulting from the manufacture and sale of the article which it covers. it is customary to place a value on the patent, and to consider it an asset of the business. _good-will_--a man has established a business which has become extremely profitable, and in selling the business he places a certain value on the reputation or goodwill which he has built up. _speculative_--a firm having a surplus not required in the business sometimes invests it outside of the business with the expectation of realizing a profit by selling at an advanced price. they buy grain or provisions, mining or railway stocks, etc. or an investment may be made in the stock of some manufacturing business to be established in the town, because such an enterprise, if successful, will naturally result in an increase in their own business. =52. examples of fictitious assets.= fictitious assets are seldom found on the books of other than corporations where a large initial promotion expense is involved. a good example of a fictitious asset is: _advertising_--a business house may decide on an average annual expenditure for advertising; but to be effective, the expenditures for the first two or three years may necessarily exceed this amount. the excess is considered as an investment since it is expected that as the business becomes firmly established the annual expenditure can be reduced to an amount even less than that estimated, gradually reducing the amount carried on the books as an asset. to illustrate: annual advertising appropriation for ten years is $10,000.00. expended first year $18,000.00 deduct appropriation 10,000.00 --------- to advertising inventory 8,000.00 expended second year 15,000.00 deduct appropriation 10,000.00 --------- to advertising inventory 5,000.00 expended third year 10,000.00 deduct appropriation 10,000.00 --------- to advertising inventory 000.00 appropriation fourth year 10,000.00 expended " " 8,000.00 --------- to credit advertising inventory 2,000.00 appropriation fifth year 10,000.00 expended " " 9,000.00 --------- to credit advertising inventory 1,000.00 appropriation sixth year 10,000.00 expended " " 10,000.00 --------- to advertising inventory 000.00 appropriation seventh year 10,000.00 expended " " 9,000.00 --------- to credit advertising inventory 1,000.00 appropriation eighth year 10,000.00 expended " " 8,000.00 --------- to credit advertising inventory 2,000.00 appropriation ninth year 10,000.00 expended " " 7,000.00 --------- to credit advertising inventory 3,000.00 appropriation tenth year 10,000.00 expended " " 6,000.00 --------- to credit advertising inventory 4,000.00 ------------------ $13,000.00 $13,000.00 revenue accounts =53.= the term _revenue_ (synonymous with _income_) is used to designate those items which, when brought together in an account, exhibit the profit or loss of the business. _revenue receipts_ are the receipts which originate exclusively from the sale or exchange of the commodities or things of value for the handling of which the business has been organized. _revenue expenditures_ are those expenditures connected with the expense of operation or administration of a business, including such items of expense as postage, printing, salaries, rent, etc. _revenue accounts_ is a term used to designate those accounts that represent revenue receipts or revenue expenditures. =54. revenue receipts.= the account representing revenue receipts in all lines of business (though it may sometimes be known by another name) is the _sales account_--a representative account showing net sales. net sales, less cost of goods sold, represent gross profits. gross profits, less cost of conducting the business (revenue expenditures) represent net profits. =55. expense.= the broad term _expense account_ represents all revenue expenditures; but in modern bookkeeping the amounts of the different classes of expense are kept separate as far as possible. some of the most commonly used divisions of expense are: rent; insurance; taxes, interest and discount; out freight and express; heat and lights; labor; salaries, etc. it is customary to open one account in the name of _general expense_, to care for expenditures not included in special accounts. =56.= _insurance_--a nominal account to which is charged all sums paid to insurance companies (called _premiums_), in consideration of which our property is insured against loss by fire, cyclones, or other disaster. =57.= _rent_--a nominal account to which is charged all sums paid for use of property which we rent or lease from others for the benefit of our business--usually the buildings in which our business is transacted or in which our goods are stored. =58.= _taxes_--a nominal account to which are charged all taxes and license fees paid on account of property owned or business transacted. =59.= _interest_--this is a nominal account which should include only interest charges paid or interest earned on account of capital. when we borrow money or discount a note, we do it because we need cash capital, and the interest paid is a capital expense or a direct source of loss. exchange charged for the collection of notes and drafts belongs in the same class. all interest paid for the use of money, and exchange paid for the collection of notes, drafts, and checks, should be debited to interest account. when we save the discount by prepayment of bills, the discount is earned by the use of capital. all such earnings are a direct source of profit and should be credited to interest account. discount paid on notes is interest paid in advance, and should not be confused with discounts allowed to customers for the prompt payment of bills; the latter is a reduction in the price received for our goods, and reduces trading profits. this question is discussed under the head of _cash discounts_. =60.= _out freight and express_--a nominal account which is debited with all transportation charges paid on goods that we ship, whether sales are made at delivered prices or freight is paid as an accommodation to the customer. when goods are sold at f. o. b. prices, and the freight is paid by us as an accommodation to the customer, out freight should be credited and the customer debited. this should not be confused with _in freight_, or freight paid on goods received, as such charges add to the cost of the goods and should be charged to the account representing that particular class of goods. =61.= _heat and light_--this account is debited with all sums paid for fuel, heating bills, lighting bills, and lighting supplies. =62.= _labor_--a nominal account which is debited with all sums paid as wages to mechanics or laborers employed by the business. =63.= _salaries_--a nominal account which is debited with all salaries paid to managers, salesmen, clerks, and others employed in the administration of the business. rules for journalizing =64.= journalizing is one of the most important operations in bookkeeping, since journalizing a transaction involves the selection of the proper accounts to be debited and credited completing the double entry. with the use of separate sales and purchase records, the journal itself is used principally for those entries involving a transfer of values from one account to another. these are frequently referred to as _cross entries_. the number of possible entries of this class is practically unlimited, and they require careful study on the part of the bookkeeper. rules for journalizing are frequently referred to in bookkeeping textbooks; but, since the custom of journalizing every transaction is now obsolete, the term is no longer sufficiently descriptive. a better term to use would be _rules for debit and credit_, for it is the rules of debit and credit that must be followed when a journal entry is to be made. [illustration] =65. three-column journal.= a three-column journal suitable for a small business is shown above. the third column is used for sales only, while the first two columns are used for regular journal entries. the use of the column for sales answers the same purpose as a sales book, and total sales are posted to the credit of sales account at the end of the month. sample transactions =66.= for the purpose of demonstrating the principles of debit and credit as exemplified in the journal, the following transactions except those involving cash are _journalized_ in a three-column journal. the third column is used for sales, and it is to be understood that a cash account is kept in a separate cash book. --april 2- sold to hiram watson on account 10# gran. sugar 5½c. $.55 3 bars soap .25 2# starch 5 .10 2 cans corn .25 $1.15 --- --2- paid electric light bill--cash 4.75 --2- sold for cash sundry merchandise 8.60 --3- bought from eureka milling co. on account 5 bbls. xxx flour 3.75 18.75 --4- sold to j. l. jarvis on account ¼ bbl. flour 1.25 2# butter .32 .64 1# coffee .30 10# lard .11 1.10 3.29 --- --4- bought from j. l. jarvis on account fire insurance on stock and fixtures, $3,000.00 for one year from date 18.00 --5- paid eureka milling co. cash 18.75 --6- sold to j. l. jarvis on account 1# cheese .16 1 doz. eggs .22 1# baking powder .50 3 bu. potatoes .65 1.95 2.83 --- --6- bought from atlas safe co. on account 1 office safe 50.00 paid cash for repairs to door lock .40 sold for cash sundry merchandise 16.70 [illustration] [illustration] examples for practice 1. after you become familiar with each entry and the nature of the accounts to be debited or credited, journalize the transactions given in article 66, then compare with the model journal, and see if your work is correct. 2. journalize the following transactions: --april 10- bought from david cole & son on account 100 bbls. flour at $4.60 $460.00 --10- sold to l. h. stebbins on account 20 bbls. flour at 5.10 102.00 --10- sold to henry waterbury on account 30 bu. beans 2.00 60.00 20 " oats .37 7.40 --11- paid to david cole & son cash on account 160.00 gave them my note for 30 days 300.00 --11- received note from l. h. stebbins for 30 days to balance account 102.00 --12- paid cash for harness oil .35 --12- henry waterbury paid cash on account 40.00 rules for posting =67.= the act of transferring all items from the journal, sales book, purchase book, cash book, or other books to the ledger is called _posting_. all items relating to one account are posted to that account in the ledger; thus all sales are posted to the sales account, and all transactions with a person are posted to the account of that person. every debit must be posted to the debit side of the corresponding account in the ledger. =68. routine.= the first operation in posting is to open an account in the ledger by writing the name of the account on the line at the head of the ledger page. the month and day are then written in the date column; the page of the book from which the item is posted is written in the folio column, and the amount is placed in the money column. the final operation is to place the number of the ledger page in the folio column of the book from which the item was transferred, directly opposite the item posted. =posting from journal.= in posting from the journal, all items in the left or debit columns are posted to the debit side of the corresponding ledger accounts, while all items in the credit column are posted to the credit side of the ledger accounts. the first item in the journal in the preceding section is a debit to hiram watson, amount $1.15. it is necessary to open an account in the ledger, which is done by writing hiram watson's name at the head of the page, above the date column on the left side of the page; in the date column we write the date, april 2; in the folio column we write the journal page, 1: and in the money column we write the amount, $1.15. the number of the ledger page is now written in the folio column in the journal, directly opposite the name of hiram watson. the second transaction recorded in the journal is a purchase which makes it necessary to open a purchase account in the ledger, to which is debited the amount of the purchase $18.75. the first transaction recorded in the journal is a sale, therefore the credit is to the sales account. since we are placing all sales in a special column, the amount will not be posted until the end of the month, when the total sales will be posted to the credit of the sales account as one item. in the second transaction, the credit is to a personal account, and we open an account in the ledger with eureka milling co., following the same routine in posting as with debit items, except that the item is posted to the credit side of the account. =posting from cash book.= when posting from the cash book, it must be remembered that all items on the left-hand page (which debit cash) must be posted to the credit of some other account; and that all items on the right-hand page (which credit cash) must be posted to the debit of an account in the ledger. why cash received is entered on the left-hand page of the cash book, and cash paid out on the right-hand page, is a point not always clear to the bookkeeper. to obtain a clear view of this point, it should be remembered that the cash book is nothing more or less than a ledger account with cash, and cash received is entered on the left-hand page (or debit side) for the reason that any account is debited for what is received or is added to it. we sell merchandise, for example, and the person is debited because he receives it. we buy real estate; the real estate account is debited because our real estate possessions are added to. broadly speaking, we (the business) receive the real estate; but, instead of charging the amount to ourselves (the person), we charge it to _real estate_, that we may know the amount of our real estate investment. a customer pays us cash; cash is debited because our cash possessions are added to. we might charge the amount to our account; but we prefer to charge it to a cash account that we may know how much cash we have on hand. we pay out cash; cash is credited because cash has gone out of our possession. the main point of difference is that we post to other ledger accounts direct from the cash book, which is itself a ledger account, instead of journalizing cash transactions. if cash transactions were journalized- cash to person person to cash the amounts would be posted to the debit or credits of the cash account in the ledger; but for convenience we keep the cash accounts in a separate book. journalizing a few of the transactions given will clearly demonstrate the point. trial balance =69.= a _trial balance_ is a list of the balances of all accounts remaining open in the ledger, together with the balance shown by the cash account. on journal paper, all open accounts are listed by name; the debit balances are placed in the debit column, and credit balances are placed in the credit column; the pages of the ledger are placed in the folio column, opposite the names of the account. both debit and credit columns are footed, and the footings of the two columns should agree. a trial balance is taken for the purpose of testing the accuracy of the postings to the ledger; to find out if the ledger is in balance. the trial balance can be taken without considering the balances, by taking the total debit and credit items posted to all open accounts. while the trial balance shows that for every debit posted to the ledger a corresponding credit has also been posted (double entry principle), it does not absolutely prove the accuracy of the work. if a debit item of $100.00 were posted to the debit of the wrong account, it would not affect the balance of the ledger; but if the item were posted to the credit instead of to the debit of the account, the ledger would be out of balance and the amount that it was _out_would be shown by the trial balance. classification of accounts =70.= the arrangement of the accounts in the ledger is of considerable importance. since one of the objects of bookkeeping is to exhibit the standing or condition of the business, the accounts should be classified in a manner that will make easiest the assembling of important statistics. the accounts in the ledger represent either _assets_ (resources), _liabilities_, _profits_ (gains), or _losses_. every account having a debit balance represents either (_a_) an asset or (_b_) a loss. (_a_) a personal account having a debit balance represents an asset; (_b_) any expense account having a debit balance represents a loss, as it reduces the chance for profit. every account having a credit balance represents either (_c_) a liability or (_d_) a profit. (_c_) a personal account having a credit balance represents a liability--that is, something we owe; (_d_) a sales account having a credit balance represents a profit because it increases our chance of gain. [illustration: office of the registrar, american school of correspondence] =71. arrangement in ledger.= the foregoing classifications should be kept in mind in arranging the accounts in the ledger. first provide space for the asset and liability accounts; then follow with the profit and loss (or revenue) accounts. as far as possible, keep all asset accounts together, following the same plan with liability and profit and loss accounts. the accounts are arranged in the trial balance in exactly the same order as they appear in the ledger; and if correctly classified they will show at a glance the assets (except inventories of merchandise) and liabilities of the business. likewise the profit and loss accounts (also known as revenue accounts--see article 53) will show total sales, purchases, and expense of conducting the business. sample ledger accounts =72.= the ledger accounts shown on pages 80-81, representing the transactions given in the preceding set of sample transactions, demonstrate the proper arrangement of accounts, manner of posting, and the trial balance. examples for practice 1. from the copy of the journal (article 66) which you have made, post the transactions to the ledger. 2. post the transactions from the journal you have made (exercise 2, preceding section) to the ledger. 3. make a trial balance of the ledger accounts. [illustration] [illustration] treatment of cash discounts =73.= _cash discounts_ are discounts allowed for prepayment of bills. they are frequently confused with bank discounts (or interest collected in advance when notes are discounted), but are of an entirely different character. when the price is made, the profits are calculated with the idea that the customer may take advantage of the cash discount; that is, the price after the discount is deducted includes a legitimate profit. we cannot debit the customer with the amount of the bill less the discount, for we do not know that he will take advantage of the discount; and so, the charge to the customer and credit to sales account is an amount which may never be received. if the bill is paid less the discount, the amount deducted reduces our profit on the sale. it is not an allowance for the use of capital, for we can probably borrow money at 6 per cent, while the discount may be 5 per cent or more for anticipating payment 30 days or less. = 74. discounts allowed.= cash discounts allowed must eventually come out of the profits arising from the sale of the commodities in which we are trading. there are two methods of charging cash discounts, either of which is considered correct: (1) open an account called _discounts on sales_, and charge to it all discounts allowed for the prepayment of bills. when the books are closed, the total will be charged against trading profits. this method is coming into general use, and may be considered standard. (2) charge to _sales account_ directly all discounts allowed, treating them as allowances. the balance of the sales account will then represent net sales after returns, rebates, and cash discounts have been deducted. one feature to recommend this plan is that sales account does not show a fictitious volume of sales. =75. entering cash discounts in cash book.= when we receive payment from a customer who has deducted the cash discount, the discount must be taken account of in entering the payment, as the customer is to receive credit for the full amount. we might enter the cash payment in the cash book, and make a journal entry of the cash discount, but this would necessitate two postings from separate books. a better method, and one which has become standard, is to provide a _cash discount column_ in the cash book. when a column has not been provided for this purpose, a narrow column can be ruled in on the cash received or debit side of the cash book. this is carried as a memorandum until the end of the month, when the total is posted to the debit of discount on sales. two ways of making the entry are shown (p. 84). in example no. 1, the cash discount is entered in the discount column, and the net cash received is entered in the cash column. when the payment is posted, two entries are made in the ledger. one advantage in this is that reference to the account of r. l. brown & co. shows at a glance whether they are taking advantage of cash discounts. in example no. 2, the cash discount is entered in the proper column, but the gross amount is entered in the cash column. the payment is then posted in one item, and reference to the ledger account does not show whether the payment of $100.00 is all cash or part discount. it is necessary, also, to deduct the footing of the discount column from the footing of the cash column to ascertain the amount of cash received. for these reasons the method shown in example no. 1 is recommended. =76. cash discounts earned.= when we take advantage of the discount offered for the prepayment of bills, the discount earned can be considered a legitimate source of profit. our own selling prices for goods purchased to be resold are based on the prices at which they are billed to us, without considering a possible saving by discounting our bills. whether or not we discount our bills is largely a question of capital, and such earnings are legitimate profits entirely outside of regular trading profits. discounts earned should be treated as interest earned and credited to interest account, from which they will find their way into profit and loss account. [illustration] profit and loss =77.= the _profit and loss account_ is a summary account made up of the balances of all income and expenditure (revenue) accounts in the ledger, the balance of this account representing the _net loss_ or _net gain_ of the business. it is advisable to show the net profits for each year; and to accomplish this, it is customary to transfer the balance of profit and loss account at the end of the year. in single proprietorships and partnerships, the net gain is transferred to proprietor's or partner's investment accounts, while in a corporation it is usually transferred to a surplus account. a loss is transferred to a deficiency account. =78. trading account.= this is a subdivision of profit and loss account intended to exhibit the gross profit derived from the manufacture or purchase and sale of goods in which the business is organized to trade. these profits are known as _trading profits_. just what items of income and expenditure enter into trading profits or losses is an important question in the science of accounts. a safe rule to follow is to debit trading account with the cost of goods sold, including cost of preparing them for sale. in a manufacturing business the cost represents cost of raw materials and cost of manufacture. credit the account with net income from sales, arrived at by deducting from gross sales all returns, allowances, rebates, and cash discounts. all expenses incurred in selling the goods, and all expense of administration of the business, should be charged to profit and loss account proper. all profits arising from other transactions than trading should be credited to profit and loss. these include interest received on past due accounts, on notes, or for money loaned; discount earned by the prepayment of bills; profits from the sale of real estate or any property other than that in which the business is trading. =trading account, how constructed.= the trading account is made up by charging total inventory at the beginning of the year and purchases during the year; crediting net sales and inventory at the close of the year, the balance representing the gross profit. [illustration] =turnover.= it is desirable to know the cost of goods sold. this is known as the _turnover_, on which percentages of profit are based. the turnover may be found by deducting the present inventory from the debit side of the trading account. [illustration] =79. manufacturing account.= in a manufacturing business it is very desirable to know the cost to produce the goods; and for this purpose a subdivision of profit and loss, called _manufacturing account_, is used. the manufacturing account is debited with inventory of materials at the beginning of the year; purchases of material; labor or wages in factory, and all other expenses of manufacture; and credited with inventory of materials at the close of the year. the balance represents cost of manufactured goods to the trading division. the principal value of these subdivisions of profit and loss lies in the fact that they reveal not only the _amount_ but the _sources_ of profits and losses, which is one of the important functions of accounting. [illustration] the profit and loss account of a professional or other non-trading concern need not be subdivided as explained for a trading concern. in a non-trading business, all accounts representing revenue receipts or revenue expenditures are transferred direct to profit and loss account. =80. transfer of gross profit.= the gross profit from trading is now transferred to the credit of profit and loss account, and this account is debited with the balances of all revenue expenditure accounts. continuing the illustration from article 78, we have: [illustration] =81. transfer of net profit.= the net gain is transferred to the credit of proprietor's account in a single proprietorship. [illustration] merchandise inventory account =82.= the accounts now open in the ledger, other than proprietor's account, exhibit all assets and liabilities of the business with the exception of the present inventory, which is included in the trading account. the amount of the inventory is transferred to the debit of a merchandise inventory account. [illustration] the books are now said to be _closed_, there being no open accounts except those representing assets or liabilities of the business. balance sheet =83.= a statement of the assets and liabilities of a business is called a _balance sheet_. if the assets exceed the liabilities, the difference is the _present worth_. if the liabilities exceed the assets, the business is _insolvent_, and the difference or balance shows the amount of insolvency. the balance sheet is prepared from the ledger balances after the books have been closed. in arranging the accounts on a balance sheet, the assets should be listed first, followed by the liabilities. the balance will agree with the balance shown in the proprietor's or investment account. for the business of a single proprietor, it is customary to list the accounts in the following general order: _first_--cash in bank and office. _second_--open accounts and bills receivable. _third_--merchandise per inventory, store fixtures, etc. _fourth_--real estate. the first two classes are termed _active_ or _quick_ assets, as they can be most readily converted into cash. the liabilities represented by credit balances, are listed in the order of their urgency: _first_--open accounts due others. _second_--bills payable. _third_--mortgages or bonds payable. the third class represents secured liabilities, while the first two represent unsecured liabilities. continuing the previous illustration, we find the balance sheet of our imaginary ledger to be as follows: [illustration] sample transactions =84.= at the end of the first year, the trial balance of a single proprietorship was as follows: debit balances bank account $ 764.20 sundry open accounts receivable 1,127.30 bills receivable 475.00 furniture and fixtures 325.00 cash in office 68.50 purchases 9,571.40 expense 675.00 discount on sales 96.75 interest 72.10 ------- 13,175.25 credit balances proprietor (investment) 2,500.00 bills payable 2,000.00 sundry accounts payable 1,761.60 sales 6,913.65 ------- $13,175.25 the inventory at the end of the year was $4,962.30; at the beginning of the year, there was no merchandise in stock. the books are to be closed into trading and profit and loss, and a balance sheet prepared. when closing the books, all entries necessary to adjust the balances of ledger accounts should be made through the journal. when an audit is made, it is difficult to trace the entries unless they are plainly stated in one group, which is provided when they are made in the journal. the making of entries in the ledger directly, also increases the opportunity for fraudulent entries. _never make original entries in the ledger._ example for practice from the following trial balance prepare trading account; profit and loss account; and balance sheet. trial balance proprietor (investment) $7,600.00 bills payable 4,000.00 accounts payable 1,470.00 bank $1,262.84 accounts receivable 2,693.11 bills receivable 4,360.00 merchandise inventory 6,277.76 furniture and fixtures 750.00 purchases 7,105.78 expense 1,416.30 discount on sales 112.65 interest 44.20 sales 10,985.70 cash 121.46 --------- --------- $24,099.90 $24,099.90 inventory at end of year $6,493.06. [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration] [illustration: cashier terminal, lamson motor-driven cable cash carrying system for dry goods, general, or department stores lamson consolidated store service co.] journalizing notes =85.= when a note is received by us or we give our note to another, it is necessary to make a journal entry in order that there may be a proper record of the transaction on our books. careful study is sometimes necessary to determine just how the entry should be made, and the following illustrations will serve as a guide. =86. when received.= when we receive a note, we debit bills receivable and credit the maker--that is, the person who gives us the note. we receive a note from samuel smart for $100.00 payable in 30 days. the journal entry is: bills receivable $100.00 samuel smart $100.00 30-day note dated sept. 10 =87. when paid.= when this note is paid, we debit cash and credit bills receivable. the entry is made in the cash book on the debit side which debits cash and credits bills receivable. bills receivable samuel smart's note $100.00 due oct. 10th =88. when collected by bank.= perhaps the note was collected through our bank; in that case, the bank, instead of sending us the cash, will credit the amount to our account. the bank may, also, charge a small fee for collecting the money; consequently the amount placed to our credit will be the sum collected, less their fee. the entry in the journal would then be: bank $99.85 interest and discount .15 bills receivable $100.00 smart's note due oct. 10th collected by bank. =89. when discounted.= at the time we received samuel smart's note, we may have needed the money for immediate use in our business. we would then take the note to the bank, endorse it payable to the bank, when they would discount it, giving us credit for the net proceeds. since the money is advanced to us, the bank would charge us interest for its use, which amount would be deducted from the whole amount, leaving the net proceeds. this amount would then be available for immediate use. the note is then the property of the bank; it has gone out of our possession and we have received the cash. the note is not paid, and in discounting it we have created a liability to the bank. remembering that one of the functions of bookkeeping is to exhibit the true nature of our assets and liabilities, we open a _bills discounted_ account in the ledger. the entry is: bank $99.50 interest .50 bills discounted $100.00 discounted smart's note due oct. 10th. =90. when a note drawing interest is discounted.= the above transaction presupposes that the note is given _without_ interest; but if it were given _with_ interest, the bank would simply add the interest to the principal and deduct the discount from the total. in the case the sum of the principal and interest ($100.00 + .50 = $100.50) is $100.50, and the discount $.50, which would leave $100.00 as the net proceeds. if the amount of the note were larger or the interest was figured for a longer time, it would make a difference. suppose the amount of the note to be $2,000.00, time 30 days, interest 6% per annum. principal $2,000.00 interest 30 days 10.00 total $2,010.00 less interest on $2,010.00 for 30 days 10.05 --------- $1,999.95 since the net amount realized is less than the face of the note, we need not consider the interest earned, but the entry would be: bank $1,999.95 interest and discount .05 bills discounted $2,000.00 =91. when a note drawing interest is paid.= but suppose samuel smart's note is $100.00 for 30 days, with 6% interest, and that the note is kept by us and the money is paid directly to us when due. we shall then receive the interest, in addition to the face of the note, making a total of $100.50. the entry would then be made in the cash book on the debit side, and would be: bills receivable $100.00 interest and discount .50 samuel smart's note due oct. 10, paid to-day. =92. when a discounted note is not paid.= when we discounted samuel smart's note of $100.00 for 30 days without interest at the bank, we were obliged to endorse it, which had the effect of a guarantee of payment. if not paid when due, the amount would be charged to our account at the bank. the note would again come into our possession, and the amount must be debited to some account, the credit being to the bank. we have previously credited the amount to bills discounted, and our entry is: bills discounted $100.00 bank $100.00 samuel smart's note not paid at maturity. but suppose the transaction to have been the one described in article 90. the note returned to us is $2,010.00, that being the amount of principal and interest. our bills receivable and bills discounted accounts show the item as $2,000.00 only. therefore we must include the $10.00 in our adjusting entries which will be: bills receivable $10.00 interest added to smart's note not paid when due bills discounted $2,000.00 bank $2,010.00 smart's note not paid at maturity. =93. when a note is past due.= the above entries leave this unpaid item in the bills receivable account. if the business is one in which a large number of bills are discounted, it will be advantageous to show past due bills receivable by themselves, leaving bills receivable account to represent only paper not due. the entry for a bill unpaid at maturity would be: bills receivable past due $2,010.00 bills receivable $2,010.00 smart's note past due. =94. when a note is renewed.= we shall now suppose that samuel smart finds that he will be unable to pay his note when due. he comes to us and offers a new note for 30 days, which we accept. he prefers to add the interest due on the original note to the principal, and makes his note for $100.50. we then return the original note and the entry is: bills receivable $100.50 interest and discount .50 bills receivable $100.00 new note given by samuel smart to cover note due oct. 10, with interest. the effect of this transaction is that we have received a new note for $100.50, and we debit bills receivable. this new note pays an older one which goes out of our possession, so we credit bills receivable. the amount of the new note includes the interest on the old, and we credit interest. we might have gone about this in a roundabout way by making these entries: _to cancel the old note:_ samuel smart $100.50 bills receivable $100.00 interest, and discount .50 note due oct. 10th. _to enter the new note:_ bills receivable $100.50 samuel smart $100.50 new note 30 days to take up note due oct. 10th. these entries would leave the accounts in exactly the same condition as our first entry, and would serve no useful purpose. this is given as an illustration of how several entries may be made when the transaction could be as clearly explained in one. =95. when renewed note has been discounted.= if the note which samuel smart has renewed has been discounted at the bank, we must reimburse the bank in some manner before we can obtain possession of the original note. the most simple way to handle this transaction will be to give the bank our check to pay the note. the entry is: bills discounted $100.00 interest and discount .50 to bank $100.50 gave check to take up samuel smart's note. we shall then treat the new note as previously explained. if, after getting it recorded on the books, we wish to discount this note, the entries will be exactly the same as when we discounted the original note. =96. when we give or pay a note.= when we give our note, the effect of the transaction is just the opposite of the receipt of a note. instead of adding to one class of our resources we are increasing one class of our liabilities, in return for which we either receive something of value or reduce our liabilities of another class. when we give our note in payment of a loan, we receive cash; if we buy goods and give a note in payment, we receive merchandise; if we give a note in payment of an account, we simply reduce our liabilities of one class and add to those of another. the entries necessary to properly record transactions involving notes given or bills payable, are not so complex as is the case with transactions involving bills receivable. the following illustrations cover transactions likely to arise in the average business: we give our note for $100.00 payable in 30 days, without interest, to western grocer co. in settlement of an account. the entry is: western grocer co. $100.00 bills payable $100.00 note 30 days without interest when we pay the note the entry is: bills payable $100.00 bank $100.00 check to western grocer co. to pay note due oct. 10. =97. when our note has been discounted.= the western grocer co. has either discounted the note or placed it in the bank for collection, and it is presented for payment by the merchants bank. we give them a check in payment, and the entry is: bills payable $100.00 bank $100.00 check to merchants bank to pay our note to western grocer co., due oct. 10. the entry in this case is the same as in the previous illustration, with the exception of the explanation. =98. when we pay our note with interest.= we give our note to western grocer co. for $100.00 payable in 30 days, with interest at 6%. we pay the note by check, and the entry is: bills payable $100.00 interest and discount .50 bank $100.50 paid western grocer co. note due oct. 10, by check no. 10. =99. when we discount our note.= we wish to borrow $100.00 from the bank, and give our note for the amount, payable in 30 days. the bank discounts the note, placing the proceeds to our credit. the rate of interest charged is 6%. our entry is: bank $99.50 interest and discount .50 bills payable $100.00 note for $100.00, 30 days discounted at bank. =100. when we pay for goods with our note.= we buy goods from michigan milling co. to the amount of $100.00, and tender our note at 30 days with interest, in payment. this makes it unnecessary for us to open an account with michigan milling co. and the entry is: purchases $100.00 bills payable $100.00 invoice #16 from michigan milling co. gave note for 30 days with interest at 6%. =101. when we renew a note.= when this note is due, we find it inconvenient to pay, and give a new note for 30 days, adding the interest now due to the face of the original note. the amount of the new note is $100.50, and the entry is: interest and discount $ .50 bills payable 100.00 bills payable $100.50 new note given michigan grocer co. to renew note due oct. 10, $100.00, interest $.50, 30 days, with interest. =102. when we renew our discounted note.= when our note given to the bank is due, we find it inconvenient to pay the entire amount. we give the bank a check for $50.00, and a new note at 30 days for the balance. the bank always collects interest in advance, so we shall be obliged to give them our note for $50.00 plus the interest, or $50.25. in effect, the bank discounts our note for $50.25, the proceeds, $50.00, paying the balance of our note now due. the entry is: bills payable $100.00 interest and discount .25 bank $50.00 bills payable 50.25 gave check for $50.00 to apply on note due at bank to day. discounted new note for $50.25, payable in 30 days. journalizing drafts =103.= when a draft has been accepted, it should be treated the same as any other form of bill receivable or bill payable. if we make a draft on a customer, which he accepts, it becomes a bill receivable. if we accept a draft drawn on us, it becomes a bill payable. sight drafts are frequently made use of as a convenient means of collecting an account. such drafts are taken to our bank for collection, but they do not give us credit for the amount until the draft is paid. drafts of this kind, which are placed with the bank for collection only, are not treated as bills receivable, as we do not credit the account of the one on whom it is drawn until payment is received. =104. when our sight draft is paid.= we draw on samuel smart at sight for $50.00 through our bank. when paid, we receive credit at the bank for the amount, less collection charges. the entry in our journal is: bank $49.90 interest and discount .10 samuel smart $50.00 paid sight draft =105. when discounting time draft.= samuel smart owes us $100.00, and while the amount is not due for 30 days, we have reason to believe that he will accept a draft payable in 30 days. we accordingly draw on him through our bank. our reason for doing this is that his acceptance will be a promise to pay, and our bank will then discount the draft. the draft is accepted, and our bank notifies us that the proceeds have been placed to our credit, the draft being discounted at 6%. the entries are: bills receivable $100.00 samuel smart $100.00 samuel smart accepted our 30-day draft bank 99.50 interest and discount .50 bills discounted $100.00 discounted samuel smart's 30-day acceptance. =106. when we accept.= when we accept a draft payable at a future date, it immediately becomes a bill payable and should be so treated. we accept the 30-day draft of the western grocer co. for $200.00. our journal entry is: western grocer co. $200.00 bills payable $200.00 accepted 30-day draft. =107. when we pay an acceptance.= when this draft is due, we pay it, giving our check to the bank. the entry is: bills payable $200.00 bank $200.00 gave check to pay draft of western grocer co. =108. when we pay a sight draft.= instead of accepting a time draft, we pay a sight draft of western grocer co. for $200.00. in this case it has not become a bill payable, and our entry is: western grocer co. $200.00 bank $200.00 check to merchants bank to pay sight draft. =examples for practice= the following examples are to be journalized by the student after he has become thoroughly familiar with the transactions previously explained: --nov. 6-received from jackson & co. their note for $214.00 without interest, payable in 30 days, in full settlement of account. --nov. 6-received from david newman his note for $650.00 with interest at 6%, payable in 30 days, in settlement of account. we discounted this note at first national bank. --nov. 7-paid our note given oct. 6, to national spice co., amount $150.00 with interest at 6%. this note was paid by check #11 to mechanics bank. --nov. 8-bought from valley mills on our note for 30 days with interest at 6%, 100 bbls. flour at $5.25 per bbl. --nov. 9-discounted our note for $1,000.00, 30 days, at first national bank. --dec. 6-jackson & co., paid their note due to-day, $214.00. --dec. 6-david newman paid $300.00 on his note due to-day. gave new note for balance due, payable in 30 days with interest at 6%. --dec. 8-paid our note to valley mills by check #11. --dec. 9-paid $500.00 on our note to first national bank by check #12. gave new note for $500 payable in 30 days, interest at 6%. --dec. 9-andrew white paid sight draft, $42.60, through first national bank, exchange $.10. --dec. 9-j. d. jenks accepted our 30-day draft for $140.00, which we discounted at first national bank at 6%. --dec. 10-accepted a 30-day draft for $75.00 drawn by eastern woodenware co. --dec. 11-gave first national bank our check for $90.00 to pay 60-day draft of farwell & graves accepted by us oct. 11. --dec. 12-gave first national bank our check for $41.00 to pay sight draft of dun & co. [illustration: accounting department, swift & company, chicago] single proprietor's and partner's accounts retail business =1.= in this section we demonstrate complete sets of books for a retail business, showing every necessary step in bookkeeping from the opening of the business. the first set represents a small business in which the simplest methods are adequate. the business is owned by a single proprietor who opens a retail grocery store. =2. opening the books.= remembering that bookkeeping is the art of recording the transactions of a business, the first thing to be done is to make the proper opening entry of the books. being the opening entry, it should record the first fact of importance, which is that the business has been opened. since bookkeeping should exhibit the exact financial standing of the business, the next step will be a complete statement of assets and liabilities. it is customary to make this opening entry on the first page of the journal. the entry should be a plain statement of facts which can be readily understood by anyone. =3. books used.= in this set, the books used are journal, cash book, and ledger. in addition a _counter book_ or _blotter_, corresponding to a day book, is used. this is a rough book in which are recorded sales on account, cash purchases, and sometimes payments on account. the entries are merely memoranda of transactions, made when they occur, to be later entered in the regular books. no bookkeeper being employed, it would be inconvenient for the proprietor or his clerk to go to the desk and make a detailed entry every time a sale is made, and so the transaction is entered in pencil in the blotter. bookkeeping records must be permanent, and should always be made in ink; and it is advisable, when possible, to have all entries made in one handwriting. a sample page of the blotter, which illustrates its use, is shown (p. 3). the marks // indicate that the item has been transferred to journal or cash book. =4.= the ledger used is one with journal ruling. in posting, each item is entered in the ledger. this is a very satisfactory plan for a small business, as the items of which each charge is composed can be seen at a glance. more space is required for an account, but the saving in time in making statements is a distinct advantage, especially when the proprietor is his own bookkeeper. with the ordinary style of ledger, it is necessary to refer to books of original entry to find the items. [illustration: ledger with journal ruling] =5. statements.= customers frequently request detailed statements of account which will give full particulars of each transaction, including each item. at other times the proprietor sends statements to his customers, with a request for payment. when this is done, it is not necessary to enter each item, a statement of the balance due being sufficient unless an itemized statement is requested by the customer. =6.= the business is opened by william webster on the 21st day of november, 190-. he is to conduct a retail grocery business, and has rented a store from wm. bristol at a monthly rental of $30.00. his resources consist of cash $600.00; merchandise, consisting of a miscellaneous stock of groceries, $964.50; personal accounts due him as follows: henry norton, $25.00; l. b. jenkins, $22.70. his liabilities consist of two accounts due for goods purchased, as follows: brewster & co., rochester, n. y., $115.20; warsaw milling co., $64.00. the opening entry, which furnishes a permanent record of these facts, is shown (p. 4). =7. proprietor's account.= the proprietor's account is an account representing capital when the business is owned by a single proprietor. when the business is started, this account is opened in the name of the proprietor (wm. webster, proprietor), and to it is credited his net investment. from time to time the books are closed and the proprietor's account then receives credit for the net profits or is debited with the net losses of the business. [illustration: day book] [illustration: opening entry in journal] [illustration: air-line meat-carrying system for a large retail market lamson consolidated store service co.] when the proprietor withdraws money or goods from the business for his personal use, the amount may be charged to his investment or proprietorship account, or to a personal account (wm. webster, personal) opened in his name. the latter method is recommended by some writers for the reason that the proprietor's personal expenses, or those of his family, are then separated from the expenses or capital expenditures of the business. as a customer of the business, he is placed on the same basis as any other individual. but the personal account must be closed some time; he must pay it in cash, or close it into profit and loss so that it finally operates to reduce his net investment. it appears, therefore, that the question whether withdrawals are charged to the investment or a personal account is largely a matter of personal preference. =8.= the opening entries having been made, the books are now ready for the recording of the regular transactions of the business. the following transactions are shown in the model set, but the blotter is omitted, all transactions being entered in the journal and cash book. the sample page of the blotter described in article 3 is sufficient to illustrate its use. sample transactions =9.= --nov. 21- sold to henry norton on account, 10# sugar .05½ $.55 2 cans corn .25 1 can peas .15 3# rice .30 ----- 1.25 --nov. 21- sold to john smallwood on account, 5# butter 1.00 4# lard .50 1 doz. eggs .25 ----- 1.75 --nov. 21- cash sales 14.10 --nov. 22- sold to harry webster on account, 7 bars lenox soap .25 1 pkg. gold dust .20 matches .15 ¼ bbl. flour 1.35 ----- 1.95 --nov. 22- bought for cash 10 doz. eggs .21 2.10 --nov. 22- cash sales 11.27 --nov. 23- bought from h. klink & co., buffalo, n.y., on account, 278# hams .11 30.58 200# lard .07½ 15.00 ----- 45.58 --nov. 23- sold to f. w. bradley on account, 2 bu. potatoes 1.60 --nov. 23- sold to c. d. glover on account, 1 bbl. apples 3.25 5 gal. vinegar 1.25 ----- 4.50 --nov. 23- cash sales 13.20 --nov. 24- bought from john smallwood on account, 100 bu. potatoes .60 60.00 paid him cash 25.00 --nov. 24- sold john smallwood on account, 2# cheese .32 1 bottle vanilla ext. .35 1# coffee .35 1# tea .60 ----- 1.62 --nov. 24- sold to a. c. maybury on account, 1# royal baking powder .50 1# corn starch .10 1# soda .10 2 pkgs. jello .20 ----- .90 --nov. 24- cash sales 15.10 --nov. 25- paid brewster & co. cash 115.20 --nov. 25- sold to l. b. jenkins on account, ½# pepper .20 ½# cloves .20 ¼ bbl. flour 1.35 ----- 1.75 sold to d. e. johnson on account, 12# ham .14 1.68 --nov. 25- received from henry norton cash 26.25 --nov. 25- cash sales 13.00 --nov. 26- sold to wm. bristol on account, 11# ham .14 1.54 1 qt. bottle olives .50 2# coffee .70 20# sugar .05½ 1.10 ----- 3.84 --nov. 26- credit wm. bristol 1 month's rent 30.00 --nov. 26- sold to c. d. glover on account, ¼ bbl. flour 1.35 1# baking powder .50 7 cakes borax soap .25 ----- 2.10 --nov. 26- paid clerk hire 8.00 --nov. 26- cash sales 18.70 --nov. 28- sold to h. n. shaw on account, 1 bu. potatoes .80 1 doz. cans corn 1.50 ----- 2.30 --nov. 28- sold to watkins hotel co., on account, 10 bu. potatoes .75 7.50 50# lard .10 5.00 20# ham .13½ 2.70 ----- 15.20 --nov. 28- cash sales 9.45 --nov. 29- bought from lowell & sons 500# sugar .04¾ 23.75 50 gal. molasses .30 15.00 ----- 38.75 --nov. 29- bought from star salt co. 10 bbls. salt .80 8.00 --nov. 29- sold to r. h. sherman on account, 1# coffee .25 1# chocolate .45 1 qt. olive oil 1.35 ¼# ginger .15 ¼# pepper .15 1 pkg. mince meat .10 2# lard .25 ----- 2.70 --nov. 29- cash sales 14.35 --nov. 30- received from f. w. bradley cash 1.60 --nov. 30- paid warsaw milling co. cash 64.00 --nov. 30- sold to john smallwood on account, 1 bbl. salt 1.10 --nov. 30- sold to d. e. johnson on account, 10# lard .10 1.00 1# baking powder .50 1 pk. apples .35 ----- 1.85 --nov. 30- bought for cash 5 bu. apples 1.00 5.00 --nov. 30- cash sales 17.90 [illustration: journal entrees recording all transactions] [illustration: journal entries recording all transactions] [illustration: journal entries recording all transactions] [illustration: cash book] [illustration: journal ruled retail ledger] [illustration: journal ruled retail journal] [illustration: journal ruled retail ledger] [illustration: journal ruled retail ledger] [illustration: journal ruled retail ledger] [illustration: journal ruled retail ledger] at the close of business, nov. 30, a trial balance of the ledger accounts is taken. no attention is paid to the accounts which are closed, the open accounts being only included in the trial balance. the proprietor wishes to know whether the business has made or lost money, and what the gross and net profits (or the losses) have been. to obtain this information the books are to be closed. before this process can be completed, it is necessary to know the value of goods now in stock--that is, to _take an inventory_. inventory =10.= an inventory is taken by counting, measuring, or weighing all goods in stock. the stock is listed on journal paper or in a day book, listing first the quantity; second, the name of the article; third, the price; fourth, the value of each item. [illustration: inventory sheet] [illustration: trial balance] =11. pricing.= in taking an inventory, _all goods must be priced at cost--never at the selling price_. if selling prices are used, credit is being taken for profits which cannot be earned until the goods are sold. it may even be found advisable at times to list goods at less than cost. some classes of goods deteriorate; at other times the stock may contain merchandise that was purchased on a high market, on which prices have been materially lowered. to price such goods at actual cost prices is creating fictitious values. conservatism is necessary in pricing an inventory, for the taking of credit for unearned profits is wrong in principle. this inventory shows the cost of goods in stock to be $1,042.77. =12. closing the books.= this is the process of balancing all revenue accounts, and transferring the balances to the profit and loss account, the balance of the account being finally transferred or closed into the capital, surplus, or deficiency account, as the case may be. we have learned that in a single proprietorship, profit and loss is finally closed into capital or investment account. [illustration: erecting shop in the works of the baldwin locomotive works, philadelphia, penna.] this being a trading business, the first step is to open a _trading account_ for the purpose of finding the gross profit. the accounts now in the ledger to be closed into trading account are _merchandise_, _inventory_, and _purchases_, which are entered on the debit side; and _sales account_, which is entered on the credit side. the present inventory is now entered on the credit side; the two sides of the account are footed; and the difference or balance represents the gross gain or loss. =13.= the trading account shows a credit balance or gross profit of $92.00. this balance is now closed into profit and loss, being entered on the credit side. the only revenue account now open is expense, which shows a debit balance of $38.00. this is a revenue expenditure, representing a loss, and is therefore transferred to the debit or loss side of profit and loss account. profit and loss shows a credit balance or net profit of $54.00. the balance closes into the account of the proprietor, where it is entered on the credit side increasing his net investment to $1,487.00. note--complete postings from page 4 of the journal. =14.= _a balance sheet_ should now be prepared; and if our work is correct in every particular, the present worth will correspond in amount with the net investment shown by the proprietor's account. balance sheet, nov. 30 _assets_ cash $535.62 accounts receivable 57.63 ------- $593.25 merchandise inventory 1,042.77 1,042.77 1,636.02 ------- _liabilities_ sundry accounts payable 149.02 149.02 ------- present worth $1,487.00 [illustration: closing entries, trading and profit and loss accounts] exercise =15.= on a certain date the assets and liabilities of john noble are as follows: assets: cash, $450.00; inventory, $762.50; due from sundry debtors--john lane $30.00, henry watson $17.60, d. b olin $27.60. liabilities: due sundry creditors--perkins & co. $90.00, f. c. watkins $54.00. the following transactions take place: april 1: sold to wm. aultman on account, 1 bbl. apples $4.50; 10 bu. corn @ 48c. bought from mills & sweet, 114# cheese at 11c. april 2. sold to henry watson on account, 10 bu. potatoes @ 75c; d. b. olin paid his account in cash; sold for cash, miscellaneous merchandise $17.20. april 3. sold to andrew nevin on account, 20# lard at 11c, 14-1/2# ham at 15c; sold to homer miller on account, 1/4 bbl. flour, $1.55, 3 doz. eggs @ 26c, 20# sugar @ 5-1/4c; sold for cash, miscellaneous merchandise $18.60. april 4. paid perkins & co., cash 90.00; sold marvin stetson 1 bbl. apples $4.50, 2# coffee @ 40c, 1# tea @ 60c; wm. aultman paid his account in full; sold for cash, miscellaneous merchandise $16.30. april 5. bought from geneva milling co. 100 bbls. flour @ $3.25; sold to d. wiseman 2 bbls. salt @ $1.10, 10# sugar @ 5-1/2c; sold for cash, miscellaneous merchandise $14.90. april 6. sold f. c. watkins 20 bu. corn @ 35c, 10# butter @ 30c, 1 vinegar cask $1.50; paid f. c. watkins cash $42.50; henry watson paid his account in full; paid 1 month's rent $35.00; paid clerk hire $7.00; sold for cash, merchandise $27.90. at the close of business, the merchandise inventory was $987.75. using journal, cash book, and ledger, open the books, enter and post these transactions make a trial balance and a balance sheet, showing present worth. does the business show a profit or a loss, and how much? how is the amount determined from the balance sheet? close the books into the proper accounts, showing gross and net profit and loss. to what account is the profit or loss transferred? retail coal books =16.= the proprietor wishes to retire from the grocery business, and, having an opportunity to sell the stock at inventory value, does so, receiving $1,042.77 in cash. he immediately pays sundry accounts payable, $149.02. he collects all accounts receivable except the amount due from l. b. jenkins, $24.45. this leaves him with assets consisting of cash $1,462.55; due from l. b. jenkins, $24.45; and no liabilities. he next engages in the retail coal business, investing his entire assets. he rents an office and yards at $40.00 per month, and engages a teamster who owns a team and wagon, paying him $24.00 per week. =17.= in this business there are introduced a sales book, with which the student is familiar, and a form of ledger known as _center ruled_ (p. 25). this form at first appears slightly confusing; but there is considerable advantage in having the debit and credit columns side by side, as balances can be calculated more readily. =18.= the cash book used is one having three columns. on the debit side the third column is used for cash sales. the footing is carried forward until the end of the month, or any other time when a trial balance is desired, when the amount is posted in one item. all bills are paid by check, the money received being deposited in the bank. =19.= an auxiliary book used in this business is a _scale book_, in which are recorded the weight of wagon, gross and net weights. weighing the delivery wagons used by the business each morning is sufficient; this weight can be used on each load hauled for the day. and on deliveries made by the regular wagons, it is not necessary to record the weight of each load in the scale book; knowing the tare, the net weight can be recorded in the sales book. the principal use of the scale book is to record the weights of coal sold at the yards and hauled by the purchaser. when a wagon comes to the yard for a load of coal, it is of course necessary to obtain first the weight of the empty wagon; and it is important that both this and the gross weight be permanently recorded to prevent later disputes. the scale or weight book is usually made with sheets of from four to six weight tickets, perforated, having stubs which are exact duplicates of the tickets. the perforated ticket is given to the customer and the stub remains in the book as a permanent record. since it is necessary to enter the weights in two places, and because this duplication of work is liable to result in errors, a better plan would be to omit the stub and make the book with carbon duplicate tickets. even with the old style of book a sheet of carbon paper can be placed between two sheets and two copies of the ticket made at one writing; the record sheet to remain in the book. see illustration, p. 26. [illustration: center ruled ledger] =20. uncollectable accounts.= in the closing entries of the last model set, we have shown that the gross trading profits are represented by the balance of trading account. all profits from other sources are credited directly to profit and loss account; likewise all other losses are charged directly to profit and loss. one such source of loss is _uncollectable accounts_. to charge the loss resulting from an uncollectable account against trading profits would create a false showing in respect to the trading profits during the current period, for the reason that the account may represent sales made during a former period. [illustration: scale book] sample transaction =21.= the transactions which follow represent the business for the period covered: --dec. 10- commenced business with the following assets: cash $1,415.55 due from l. b. jenkins 24.45 --dec. 10- bought from lehigh coal co., on account, 25 tons nut coal $4.25 106.25 --dec. 10- bought from reading coal co., on account, 25 tons egg coal 4.25 106.25 15 tons pea coal 3.75 56.25 ------- 162.50 --dec. 10- deposited cash 1,400.00 --dec. 11- sold to henry newton 2,000# nut 5.25 5.25 --dec. 11- sold to d. h. kennedy 6,000# egg 5.75 17.25 4,000# nut 5.75 11.50 ------- 28.75 --dec. 11- sold for cash 1,000# nut 5.25 2.63 --dec. 12- sold to andrew white 4,000# egg 5.75 11.50 1,000# pea 5.25 2.63 ------- 14.13 --dec. 12- sold to f. w. francis 6,000# nut 5.75 17.25 1,500# pea 5.25 3.94 ------- 21.19 --dec. 12- sold for cash 4,000# nut 5.75 11.50 --dec. 13- bought from lackawanna coal co. 50 tons run of mine 3.25 162.50 --dec. 13- sold to eastern foundry co. 25 tons run of mine 3.75 93.75 --dec. 13- sold to geo. miller 8,000# egg 5.75 23.00 --dec. 13- sold for cash 2,000# nut 5.75 5.75 4,000# nut 5.25 10.50 2,000# pea 4.75 4.75 ------- 21.00 --dec. 13- deposited all cash on hand --dec. 14- bought from lehigh coal co. 30 tons nut 4.25 127.50 --dec. 14- sold to lotus club 10 tons nut 5.75 57.50 --dec. 14- sold to david meyer 4,000# pea 5.25 10.50 --dec. 14- sold to city wagon co. 10,000# run of mine 4.50 22.50 --dec. 14- sold for cash 6,000# egg 5.25 15.75 --dec. 15- paid lehigh coal co. check# 1 106.25 --dec. 15- received from d. h. kennedy cash in full payment of his account. --dec. 15- sold to samuel hartley 1,000# pea 4.75 2.38 2,000# nut 5.25 5.25 ------- 7.63 --dec. 15- sold for cash 2,000# pea 5.25 5.25 5,000# nut 5.25 13.13 4,000# egg 5.25 10.50 2,500# run of mine 4.25 6.38 ------- 35.26 --dec. 15- paid henry wiggins, teamster check #2 24.00 --dec. 15- paid d. h. tuttle 1 month's rent, check #3 40.00 --dec. 15- deposited all cash on hand --dec. 15- charged l. b. jenkins account to profit and loss exercise =22.= open the books, using cash book, sales book, journal, and ledger. enter each transaction, and make all postings to ledger. take off a trial balance of the ledger accounts. at the close of business, dec. 15, the inventory is taken, and shows the following quantities on hand: 38 tons nut @ 4.25 14 " egg @ 4.25 9 " pea @ 3.75 18½ " run of mine @ 3.25 close all accounts representing trading transactions into a trading account, and find the gross trading profit or loss. close trading and revenue expenditure accounts into profit and loss account. close net profits into proprietor's account. bring down the balances in the ledger and take a new trial balance. sales tickets =23.= in a retail business it is necessary for the sales person to record purchases at the time the goods are selected by the customer. when but one or two clerks are employed, it is possible to record these sales in a counter book or blotter; but in a larger business employing several clerks, this method would be extremely inconvenient. the bookkeeper would be obliged to wait for the books; and even if two sets of counter books were provided for use on alternate days, the work would always be at least one day behind. the increase in the volume of business transacted, and the multiplicity of transactions in a retail store, have been responsible for the introduction of many labor-saving methods and devices. one of these now used in all large stores and in many small ones, is the _sales ticket_. the sales ticket is to all intents and purposes a small invoice blank. sales tickets are put up in pads or in book form, and are numbered in duplicate. the number is prefixed by a letter--as _h 10_--which is intended to indicate either the department or the sales person. when a sale is made, the ticket or bill is made in duplicate by means of carbon paper; one copy is given to the customer, and the other retained. if it is a cash sale, the copy retained goes to the cashier with the money; if a sale on account, to the bookkeeper to be charged. these sales tickets are also used for taking orders for future delivery, both copies being retained until the order is filled. when delivery is made, one copy goes to the customer as a bill. aside from the time saved, the sales ticket is a great convenience, as its use gives the customer a bill for every purchase. departmental records =24.= when the goods sold are divided into departments, it is here customary to record carefully the purchases and sales for each department. these records are provided for by the use of purchase and sales books having as many columns as there are departments. let us suppose that the business under consideration is a single proprietorship, and that the goods sold are clothing, shoes, and furnishings. each class of goods is kept in a separate department, sales and purchases being recorded by departments. =25.= purchase and sales books of a special design are used, each having three special columns. it will be noted that neither purchases nor sales are recorded in detail, but that both purchase invoices and sales tickets are recorded by number, and only the totals extended in the proper column. the charges and credits are posted to personal accounts from the purchase and sales books. all purchase invoices are filed in numerical order. the sales tickets are kept in bundles, each day's tickets by themselves. the tickets of each department and each sales person are also kept by themselves. if it becomes necessary at any time to know the items of an invoice or sales ticket, it is an easy matter to refer to the files under the proper date and number for the desired information. the combined totals of the three department columns must equal the footing of the total column. all footings are carried forward until the end of the month, when the totals are posted directly to purchase and sales accounts, completing the double entry. in the ledger, purchase and sales accounts are kept with each department; but when the books are closed, the results from all departments are combined in the trading account. instead of recording cash sales in a special column in the cash book, all receipts of this kind are entered in the regular _cash received_ column. these sales are not posted from the cash book, but are entered in the sales book daily. thus they are carried forward in the footings, and at the end of the month the totals of the sales book represent all sales, both on account and for cash. =26.= the cash book in this set presents some new features. instead of using both pages of the book, one page is used for both debit and credit. the bank account is also kept in the cash book, debit and credit columns being provided for this purpose. deposits are entered in the bank debit column and in the cash credit column. checks are entered in the bank credit column and posted to individual accounts. the other books used are the journal and ledger. the journal is used only for adjusting entries which cannot be made through the other books. sample transactions =27.= the business is opened by c. d. walker, who invests $3,500.00 cash, which he deposits in the bank. the following transactions are recorded: --jan. 12- bought from hart, schaffner & marx, chicago 50 suits $13.50 $675.00 15 " 16.50 247.50 ------- $912.50 net; 2% 10. invoice #1. --jan. 12- bought from hamilton brown shoe co., st. louis 30 pr. shoes 2.25 67.50 30 " " 4.25 127.50 10 " " 1.50 15.00 ------- 210.00 net 60; 2% 10. invoice #2. --jan. 14- bought from farwell & co., chicago 1 doz. shirts 13.50 13.50 2 " " 9.00 18.00 4 " " 6.25 25.00 2 " sox 1.50 3.00 1 " " 2.00 2.00 10 " underwear 6.50 65.00 5 " hdkfs. 1.10 5.50 ------- 132.00 net 60; 2% 10. invoice #3. --jan. 14- bought from barr dry goods co., st. louis 12 doz. collars .75 9.00 12 " " 1.10 13.20 ------- 22.20 net 30. invoice #3. --jan. 15- sold to s. w. martin, 842 3d av., on account sales ticket a4. 25.00 s.t. b6 4.50 s.t. c18 6.00 ------- 35.50 --jan. 15- sold for cash clothing 148.70 furnishings 26.50 shoes 54.00 ------- 229.20 --jan. 15- paid hart, schaffner & marx account check #1 894.25 discount 18.25 ------- 912.50 --jan. 16- sold to a. r. crane, 1162 baker st., on account s.t. b7 3.00 --jan. 17- sold to d. h. whipple, 476 lake st., on account s.t. a12 27.50 paid cash on account 10.00 --jan. 17- received from s. w. martin 1 shirt, for exchange 1.50 sold him on account 1 shirt 2.00 s.t. b9 --jan. 17- sold for cash department a 200.00 " b 64.00 " c 87.50 ------- 351.50 --jan. 19- sold to c. d. lewis, 64 ferry av., on account s.t. b11 6.50 s.t. c23 3.50 ------- 10.00 --jan. 19- paid hamilton brown shoe co., on account check #2 205.80 discount 4.20 ------- 210.00 --jan. 19- paid clerk hire, cash 12.00 --jan. 19- paid store rent to d. c. watson check #3 50.00 --jan. 19- sold for cash department b 37.50 " c 35.00 ------- 72.50 --jan. 19- deposited in bank 550.00 --jan. 20- sold to b. e johnson, 92 king st., on account s.t. a15 20.00 --jan. 20- sold for cash department a 75.00 " b 21.25 ------- 96.25 --jan. 20- deposited in bank 100.00 --jan. 20- paid freight bills department a 8.75 " b 3.42 " c 4.20 ------- check #4 to c. d. jenks, agt. 16.37 the inventory on jan. 20 is: clothing $487.00 furnishings 30.50 shoes 64.50 balance sheet, jan. 20 _assets_ cash bank $2,983.58 office 97.45 ------- $3,081.03 accounts receivable martin 36.00 crane 3.00 whipple 17.50 lewis 10.00 johnson 20.00 ------- 86.50 merchandise (inventory) 582.00 ------- $3,749.53 _liabilities_ accounts payable farwell 132.00 barr 22.20 154.20 154.20 ------- ------- ------- present worth $3,595.33 [illustration: adjustment journal and department purchase book] [illustration: departmental sales book] [illustration: cash book including bank account] [illustration: center ruled ledger] [illustration: center ruled ledger] [illustration: center ruled ledger] [illustration: center ruled ledger] [illustration: center ruled ledger] [illustration: trial balance] exercise =28.= take a trial balance of the ledger accounts as they appear after the books are closed jan. 20. at the close of business, feb. 28, we find that the following transactions have been recorded: purchased clothing from hart, schaffner & marx, $1,500.00; from brokau bros., $720.00. purchased furnishings from barr dry goods co., $60.00, from rosenthal & co., $437.50. purchased shoes from brown shoe co., $460.00. sold on account, clothing, $600.00; furnishings, $224.40; shoes, $112.00. sold for cash, clothing, $789.50; furnishings, $302.90; shoes, $447.25. received cash on account, $672.20. received returned goods: clothing, $15.00; shoes, $7.00. deposited cash in bank, $2,230.00. paid cash for expenses, $10.00. gave checks as follows: hart, schaffner & marx, $1,176.00; brokau bros., $705.60; brown shoe co., $294.00; farwell & co., $132.00; barr dry goods co., $22.20; rosenthal & co., $428.75; rent, $50.00; expenses, $100.00. cash discounts earned on accounts paid as follows: hart, schaffner & marx, $24.00; brokau bros., $14.40; brown shoe co., $6.00; rosenthal & co., $8.75. take a new trial balance as the ledger accounts appear after posting these transactions. the inventory, feb. 28, is: clothing $1,790.50 furnishings 176.40 shoes 136.25 ------- $2,103.15 close the books, make statement of trading and profit and loss account. make a balance sheet. what were the gross profits for this period? what were the net profits? what is the proprietor's present worth? partnership =29.= legal authorities define a partnership as a combination by two or more persons, of capital, labor, or skill, for the transaction of business for their common profit. partnerships may be formed for the purpose of conducting any legitimate business or undertaking, and are created by contract, expressed or implied, between the parties. partnership agreements need not be in writing, but may be made by oral assent of the parties. even though they are legal if made orally, partnership agreements should always be made in writing. =30. partnership agreements.= these should state the date on which the agreement is entered into, the name of the contracting parties, the name by which the partnership is to be known, and the address of the place of business. following should be a statement of the nature of the business, the amount and form of investment of each partner, the duration of the partnership, the basis of division of profits, provisions for the dissolution of the partnership, definition of the duties of active partners, and a provision for the division of the assets in the event of dissolution or at the termination of the partnership. =31. kinds of partners.= partners are of different kinds, depending on the nature of the partnership agreement and the extent of their liability, expressed or implied, as between themselves or in respect to third persons. the usual classification of partners is as follows: _ostensible_, _secret_, _nominal_, _silent_, and _dormant_. ostensible partners are those whose names are disclosed to the public as actual partners. secret partners are those whose names are not disclosed to the public, though participating in the profits. nominal partners are those who allow their names to be used as partners, though they may have no actual interest in the business. the fact of their being known as partners makes them liable to third parties. silent partners are those who, while sharing in the profits, take no active part in the management of the business. their names may or may not be known. silent partners may also be secret partners, dormant partners are those, who are both silent and secret partners. they are usually included in a general term like _company_, _sons_, or _brothers_. =32. participation in profits.= the most simple partnership from an accounting standpoint is one in which the investments of the several partners are equal, and profits are to be divided equally. this condition does not exist in all partnerships. the members of the partnership may invest unequal amounts and share in the profits on the basis of their investment. the investment may be equal, but one partner may receive an extra share of the profits in return for work performed in lieu of a salary. the investment may be unequal, but the one with the smaller investment may share equally in the profits in return for work performed. it is not unusual for a silent partner to furnish all of the capital and share equally in the profits with an ostensible partner who assumes full responsibility for the management of the business. =33. interest on investment.= when the investment of the partners is unequal, it is customary to allow interest on the capital invested and to charge interest on all withdrawals. the interest on capital must be credited, and the interest on withdrawals must be charged, before profits can be distributed. =34. capital and personal accounts.= in a partnership a special account should be opened in the name of each partner to represent his investment (for example, john smith, capital). to this account is credited his net investment. when the books are closed, the account is credited with his share of the profits, and debited with his withdrawals. a personal account should be opened in the name of each partner, to which is debited all withdrawals, either of money or goods. even when the capital invested is equal, some partnership agreements provide that interest shall be charged on all withdrawals, particularly when the business is of such a nature that goods traded in are likely to be withdrawn by the partners, or when, for any reason, withdrawals are likely to be unequal. the balance of the partner's personal account is closed into his capital account when the books are closed. before closing this account, it should be credited with interest on capital account and charged with the interest provided on withdrawals. =35. opening the books.= when the books of a partnership are opened, the essential features of the partnership agreement should be written at the top of the first page of the journal. next following the partnership agreement, are the entries showing the nature and amount of the investment of each partner, the amounts being posted to the credit of partners' capital accounts. =36. closing the books.= when the books of a partnership are to be closed, the revenue accounts are closed into trading and profit and loss, the same as in any other form of business organization. the net profit is then apportioned according to agreement, the share of each partner being credited to his capital account. the balance of his personal account is then carried to his capital account; the balance of that account will then show his net investment. =illustration of closing entries.= a, b, and c form a partnership, each investing $1,000.00, profits to be shared equally. when the books are closed, the net profits are found to be $909.60. a's personal account shows a debit balance of $46.50; b's personal account shows a credit balance of $100.00; c's personal account shows a credit balance of $52.00. the entries are as follows: profit and loss $909.60 to a, capital _a/c_ $303.20 " b, " " 303.20 " c, " " 303.20 a, capital _a/c_ 46.50 a, personal _a/c_ 46.50 b, personal _a/c_ 100.00 b, capital _a/c_ 100.00 c, personal _a/c_ 52.00 c, capital _a/c_ 52.00 the capital accounts after closing are: a, capital _a/c_ dec. 31, bal. personal _a/c_ $46.50 $1,000.00 jan. 1 balance 1,256.70 303.20 (1/3 profits) dec. 31 ------- ------- $1,303.20 $1,303.20 ========= ========= $1,256.70 net invest. dec. 31 b, capital _a/c_ dec. 31, balance $1,403.20 $1,000.00 jan. 1 303.20 (1/3 profits) dec. 31 100.00 pers. _a/c_ dec. 31 ------- ------- $1,403.20 $1,403.20 ========= ========= $1,403.20 net invest. dec. 31 c, capital _a/c_ dec. 31, balance $1,355.20 $1,000.00 jan. 1 303.20 (1/3 profits) dec. 31 52.00 pers. _a/c_ dec. 31 ------- ------- $1,355.20 $1,355.20 ========= ========= $1,355.20 net invest. dec. 31 sample transaction =37.= the first business taken up for consideration under the head of partnerships is a retail shoe business. the stock is kept in three classes: men's, women's, and children's shoes. purchase and sales books, ruled to segregate transactions of each class, are used. the bank account is kept in the cash book, which is also provided with two columns for discount. all sales, whether for cash or on account, are recorded on sales tickets. james benton, horace douglas, and henry kemp form a partnership under the firm name of benton, douglas & kemp, for the purpose of conducting a retail shoe business in buffalo, n. y. the date of the agreement, which is to continue for ten years, is march 1, 1908. james benton invests $1,000.00 in cash and a stock of shoes inventorying $2,000.00 as follows: men's, $800.00; women's, $700.00; children's, $500.00. horace douglas and henry kemp each invest $3,000.00 in cash. the three partners are to share equally in the profits and each is to receive a salary of $100.00 per month. the books are to be closed and net profits divided at the end of each three months' period counting from january 1, which brings the first distribution on march 31. the following transactions are recorded during the month of march: --march 1- deposited in second national bank $7,000.00 --march 1- bought from national fixture co. store fixtures 2,000.00 invoice #1 --march 1- bought from john c. morrison, buffalo men's shoes 135.00 invoice #2 --march 1- bought from hoyt & co., rochester, n. y. women's shoes 127.50 children's shoes 84.00 ----- 211.50 net 60; 2% 10. invoice #3 --march 2- sold to r. h. wallace, 842 delaware av. 1 pr. men's shoes 6.00 1 pr. men's slippers 2.50 ----- 8.50 --march 2- sold to d. h. lyon, 416 niagara st. 1 pr. women's 3.50 1 pr. women's 4.00 1 pr. children's 2.00 ----- 9.50 --march 2- sold to henry norris, 297 madison av. 1 pr. men's 5.00 1 pr. children's 1.25 1 pr. children's 1.50 ----- 7.75 --march 2- sold to r. h. homans, 427 lafayette av. 1 pr. women's 5.00 --march 2- sold for cash men's 44.00 women's 37.50 children's 22.00 ----- 103.50 --march 3- sold to h. j. watson, 197 locust st. 2 pr. men's 15.00 1 pr. women's 5.50 ----- 20.50 --march 3- sold to h. j. meyer, 82 bennett st. 1 pr. children's 1.50 1 pr. children's 2.00 1 pr. women's 3.50 ----- 7.00 --march 3- paid hoyt & co. bill by check less cash discount. --march 3- deposited in second national bank 75.00 --march 3- paid freight on shoes in cash 2.60 --march 3- sold for cash men's 30.00 women's 24.00 children's 15.00 ----- 69.00 --march 4- bought from lee & co., rochester women's shoes 140.00 net 30. invoice #4 --march 4- sold to d. andrews, 84 peck st. 1 pr. men's 3.50 1 pr. men's 5.00 1 pr. women's 4.00 ----- 12.50 --march 4- sold to jas. hayes, 519 washington st. 1 pr. women's 3.50 1 pr. children's 2.00 1 pr. children's 1.25 ----- 6.75 --march 4- sold for cash men's 27.00 women's 32.00 children's 12.50 ----- 71.50 --march 5- sold to r. d. nelson, 842 niagara st. 1 pr. men's 6.00 1 pr. women's 5.00 ----- 11.00 --march 5- sold to d. needham, 47 ames st. 1 pr. men's 3.50 1 pr. women's 2.50 1 pr. children's 1.50 ----- 7.50 --march 5- sold for cash men's 31.50 women's 26.00 children's 11.00 ----- 68.50 --march 6- deposited in second national bank 200.00 --march 6- sold to d. b. wright, 47 andrews st. 1 pr. men's 5.00 --march 6- sold to h. n. hoyt, 821 delaware av. 1 pr. women's 5.00 1 pr. children's 2.50 ----- 7.50 --march 6- sold to amos wiggins, 92 prospect st. 1 pr. men's 5.00 1 pr. women's 3.50 ----- 8.50 --march 6- sold for cash men's 52.00 women's 36.50 children's 18.25 ----- 106.75 --march 6- paid clerk hire, cash 9.00 --march 6- gave checks as follows: horace douglas 20.00 henry kemp 25.00 --march 8- sold to d. altman, 127 wright st. 1 pr. men's 6.00 gave him check 44.00 credited his account for 1 mo.'s rent 50.00 --march 8- sold to r. h. homans, 427 lafayette av. 1 pr. men's 6.00 --march 8- r. h. wallace paid his account in full. --march 8- paid account of john c. morrison by check --march 8- sold for cash men's 25.00 women's 18.00 children's 10.50 ----- 53.50 --march 9- sold to walter jenks, 87 south av. 1 pr. men's 6.00 1 pr. women's 4.00 1 pr. children's 2.00 ----- 12.00 --march 9- sold to d. w. mantel, 419 delaware av. 1 pr. women's 5.00 1 pr. children's 2.50 ----- 7.50 --march 9- sold to d. c. white, 1160 main st. 1 pr. men's 5.00 1 pr. men's 3.50 ----- 8.50 --march 9- sold to a. r. crows, 40 shaw st. 1 pr. women's 3.50 --march 9- sold for cash men's 54.00 women's 41.50 children's 20.50 ----- 116.00 --march 9- deposited in second national bank 275.00 --march 10- sold to henry brown, 87 douglas st. 1 pr. men's 6.00 1 pr. women's 4.00 ----- 10.00 --march 10- sold to d. l. benedict, 80 adams st. 1 pr. women's 3.50 1 pr. children's 2.00 1 pr. children's 1.50 ----- 7.00 --march 10- sold for cash men's 48.50 women's 39.00 children's 16.50 ----- 104.00 --march 11- sold to d. h. lyon, 416 niagara st. 1 pr. men's 6.00 --march 11- received from henry norris, cash 7.75 --march 11- sold to d. b. wright, 47 andrews st. 1 pr. women's 3.50 1 pr. children's 2.00 ----- 5.50 --march 11- sold to h. j. meyer, 82 bennett st. 1 pr. men's 3.50 --march 11- sold for cash men's 42.00 women's 39.50 children's 11.00 ----- 92.50 --march 12- deposited in second national bank 195.00 --march 12- sold to d. l. benedict, 80 adams st. 1 pr. men's 5.00 --march 12- sold to h. a. fisher, 42 lyons st. 1 pr. women's 4.00 1 pr. children's 1.50 ----- 5.50 --march 12- sold to andrew winters, 476 delaware av. 1 pr. men's 6.00 1 pr. children's 2.50 ----- 8.50 --march 12- sold for cash men's 51.50 women's 43.00 children's 17.75 ----- 112.25 --march 13- bought from rochester shoe co., rochester men's shoes 265.00 women's " 220.00 children's " 98.50 ----- 583.50 net 30; 2% 10. --march 13- sold to d. altman, 127 wright st. 1 pr. women's 4.00 1 pr. children's 2.50 1 pr. children's 2.00 ----- 8.50 --march 13- sold to d. alton, 46 eastern av. 1 pr. men's 5.00 1 pr. women's 3.50 ----- 8.50 --march 13- sold for cash men's 67.00 women's 52.00 children's 29.00 ----- 148.00 --march 13- paid clerk hire 9.00 henry kemp wishes to retire from the business. his partners, benton and douglas, agree to pay him cash for his interest. to close the books, each partner is credited with one-half a month's salary, and the amount is charged to expense. the inventory shows the stock to be: inventory men's shoes $759.75 women's 835.75 children's 519.00 ------- $2,114.50 [illustration: journal showing opening entries for a partnership] [illustration: cash book with center column for particulars] [illustration: departmental sales book] [illustration: departmental sales and purchase books] [illustration: classified ledger accounts] [illustration: classified ledger accounts] [illustration: classified ledger accounts] [illustration: classified ledger accounts] [illustration: classified ledger accounts] [illustration: classified ledger accounts] [illustration: classified ledger accounts] [illustration: classified ledger accounts] [illustration: classified ledger accounts] exercise =38.= 1. submit a trading and a profit and loss account as shown by the books at the close of business march 13. 2. what errors do you find in these books? 3. submit a balance sheet. 4. submit the journal entries to be used in apportioning the profits, and in closing partner's personal account. show partners' capital accounts after final closing. 5. submit proper entries when kemp's interest is purchased, assuming that he is paid by check from the funds in hand. 6. submit trial balance of ledger of benton & douglas as the accounts appear after the purchase of kemp's interest. remember that no additional capital is invested. =39. sale of partnership.= when the business of a partnership is sold, the net assets must be divided among the partners according to agreement, unless the partnership is to continue for the transaction of the same or some other class of business. as a rule, the liabilities are paid (if possible), from the cash funds on hand, leaving the net assets for division. in the division of assets, one partner will frequently agree to accept a certain class of assets in lieu of cash, but at a discount. to illustrate, one partner might accept fixtures, which cost $1,000.00, at 10% discount. deducting 10% from the cost price of the fixtures reduces the assets just that amount, and it is necessary to debit profit and loss and to credit fixture account, with the loss. if any class of assets, other than the goods in which the firm is trading, bring a price above cost, it is necessary to debit the purchaser and credit profit and loss with the profit. if the stock regularly traded in is sold at a profit, no special entry is required; the sale is recorded in the regular way and credited to sales account, from which it finds its way into profit and loss in the final closing of the books. this class of transactions involves but one of the many kinds of adjusting entries, all of which necessitate careful study on the part of the bookkeeper. in making adjusting entries, full explanations should be given that their meaning or intent may not be misunderstood by one who later refers to them. it is better to err on the side of what may appear as too detailed explanation, than to leave anything to be taken for granted. following is an illustration of the entry involving the sale of fixtures at 10% discount: profit and loss $100.00 fixture account $100.00 10% discount allowed on fixtures taken by a in part payment of his share of assets a's capital _a/c_ $900.00 fixture account $900.00 fixtures taken at 10% discount in part payment of his share of assets. =40.= benton and douglas agree to continue the business and to share profits equally. at the close of business, dec. 31, their balance sheet showed the following: balance sheet, dec. 31 _assets_ cash in office $144.60 in bank 1,287.20 $1,431.80 ------- accounts receivable 810.00 inventory, merchandise 3,769.50 4,579.50 ------- inventory, fixtures 2,000.00 2,000.00 ------- total assets $8,011.30 _liabilities_ accounts payable 925.20 ------- present worth $7,086.10 benton's present worth $3,543.05 douglas's present worth 3,543.05 they accept an opportunity to sell for cash the stock and fixtures, the buyer agreeing to pay 15% above cost price for the merchandise, and cost price for the fixtures. the money received from this transaction, and the money in the office at time of sale, are deposited in the bank. checks are drawn to settle all accounts payable, $7.22 discount being earned. in liquidating the business of the firm, benton agrees to accept the accounts receivable in part payment of his share, on condition that 10% be first charged off to cover uncollectable accounts. exercise 1. show all entries required to complete the liquidation of this business. 2. at the final settlement, how much cash does each partner receive? =41. division of profits.= when the investment of the several partners is unequal, the partnership agreement usually provides for the crediting of interest on capital, and the charging of interest on withdrawals. a and b form a partnership, and commence business oct. 1. a invests $7,000.00, and b invests $3,000.00. the agreement provides that interest at 6% shall be credited on capital and charged on withdrawals at the time of closing the books, profits to be shared on the basis of their investments. the books were closed oct. 31, with the following results: [illustration] [illustration] the adjustment is made as follows: a's investment, $7,000.00 interest for 30 days (1 month) $35.00 a's withdrawals 200.00 interest for 15 days .50 ------- net interest to be credited to a $34.50 b's investment, $3,000.00 interest for 30 days $15.00 b's withdrawals, 100.00 interest for 10 days .17 ------- net interest to be credited to b $14.83 the journal entry is: interest $49.33 a's personal _a/c_ $34.50 b's personal _a/c_ 14.83 net interest credited on capital accounts. after posting the entry, our interest account shows the following: interest on capital $49.33 this account is, of course, closed into profit and loss, leaving net profits to be divided, $954.67, of which a receives 70%, and b 30%. for the final closing of the books, we would close the personal accounts of a and b into their capital accounts, and close profit and loss account into their capital accounts. in actual practice the interest on withdrawals and investment would be entered and charged to profit and loss through interest account, before the net profit is brought down. in our illustration we have first brought down what appears to be the net profit, for the purpose of emphasizing the fact that the interest must be considered before profits are divided. exercise =42.= c, d, and e formed a partnership nov. 1. c invested $9,000.00 cash; d invested $7,000.00 cash; e invested $4,000.00 cash. the partnership agreement provided that profits should be shared on the basis of the capital invested by each; interest at 6% to be credited on capital and charged on withdrawals. at the close of business the following statistics are gathered from the books: c's capital _a/c_ cr. $9,000.00 d's capital _a/c_ cr. 7,000.00 e's capital _a/c_ cr. 4,000.00 purchases dr. 15,000.00 sales cr. 12,000.00 expense dr. 160.00 rent dr. 150.00 salaries dr. 700.00 bank dr. 7,250.00 bills receivable dr. 6,000.00 accounts receivable dr. 7,220.00 bills payable cr. 3,000.00 accounts payable cr. 2,820.00 c's personal _a/c_ dr. nov. 15 $300.00 d's personal _a/c_ dr. dec. 1 200.00 e's personal _a/c_ dr. nov. 20 100.00 inventory dec. 31 7,000.00 make trading account, profit and loss account, and journal entries to adjust interest. make balance sheet, and show partners' capital accounts after final closing of the books. [illustration: a view of the new york general offices of the western electric company] corporation accounts corporations =1.= a corporation is an artificial body created by statute law and vested with power to act in many respects as an individual--in particular to acquire, hold, and dispose of property, real or personal; to make contracts; to sue and be sued, and the like. it is a legal entity apart from its members. it may sue without joining its members, and may be sued by others without the necessity of joining its members. it may transfer property and transact all business, not inconsistent with the rights granted by its charter, in its own name. in the transaction of business it is regarded as an individual. classification of corporations =2.= corporations may be divided into two general classes--public and private. a _public_ corporation is a political entity organized for the purposes of government--as a city, county, or village. a _private_ corporation is one organized to further the interests of its members. these may be divided into two classes--stock corporations and non-stock corporations. a _stock_ corporation is one organized for the pecuniary gain of its members. a _non-stock_ corporation is one organized to further a particular object--as clubs, charitable associations, societies for scientific research, etc. stock or business corporations are the ones with which we are chiefly concerned. such corporations are organized to enable several persons to unite their capital to conduct a legitimate business enterprise and such organization accomplishes two important results; the rights of the members to transfer their interest without affecting the standing of the business, and exemption from personal liability for contracts or acts of the corporation. in a partnership, each individual partner is liable for the debts of the partnership, and any partner can make contracts in the name of the partnership, such contracts becoming obligations of net only the partnership but of each individual partner. a member or stock holder in a corporation is, as a rule, liable only for the amount of his subscription to the capital stock of the corporation. the exception to this is the organization of certain classes of corporations in which it is provided that a stockholder shall be liable for twice the amount of his stock subscription. national banks are examples of this class. no stockholder, as such, has the right to make contracts in the name of the corporation, and any contracts he may make are not binding on the corporation. contracts made in the name of the corporation, to be binding, must be executed by an officer duly authorized to make such contracts. =3. joint stock companies.= _how distinguished from corporations._ a joint stock company is a large partnership in which the capital is divided into shares which are distributed among the partners in proportion to their interests. joint stock companies differ from corporations and are like partnerships in the following respects: each member is liable for the debts of the company, and if he sells his shares he is still liable for the debts which were contracted while he was a shareholder. except when otherwise provided by statute, all members must join in any action at law by the company, and if another brings an action against the company he must join as many shareholders as he wishes to hold. in some states the law provides that an action against a joint stock company may be brought in the name of its president or other designated officer representing all the members. =4. joint stock companies.= _how like corporations._ a joint stock company is like a corporation and differs from a partnership in the following respects: the shares may be transferred. if a member dies his shares pass to his estate; if bankrupt they pass to his assignee; if he sells his shares they pass to the purchaser. partners may withdraw and new partners may be admitted without the dissolution of the company. a partnership is dissolved by the withdrawal by death or otherwise of a single partner. the shareholders do not manage the affairs of the company but elect directors or other officers in whom the management of the business is vested. members, as such, have no authority to bind the company. creation of corporations =5.= a corporation is created by legislative act. formerly each corporation received a special charter from the legislature of the state, but as the advantages of corporations began to receive universal recognition it was seen that the delays incident to the granting of special charters were bound to work a hardship on those desiring to incorporate. partly to overcome this, but more particularly to insure uniformity in the rights and privileges of corporations, and to prevent the conferring of special privileges through special charters, the legislature of most states has enacted uniform corporation laws. these statutes prescribe uniform regulations for the organization of corporations. state constitutions now very generally prohibit the granting of special charters to private corporations. =6. requirements.= while every state has its own corporation laws, the requirements of corporations are in many respects uniform. the law usually provides that a certificate of incorporation shall be filed with the secretary of state, or some other designated officer. this certificate must as a rule state: the name of the corporation; the place of business, where its principal office is located; the objects of the corporation, including a statement of the business in which it is to engage; the amount of the capital stock, and the number and par value of the shares into which it is to be divided; the period for which the corporation is organized; the number of its directors and the names of those who are to serve at the outset; the names and addresses of the original incorporators with the number of shares of the capital stock subscribed for by each. the form of the certificate required in the state of illinois is shown in the illustration, p. 4. stockholders =7.= the members of a business corporation are known as stockholders or shareholders. at the time of organization the members subscribe for the shares of the capital stock agreeing to take and pay for them when issued. when the stock has been delivered and paid for, the stockholder is under no further obligation, unless the stock is by statute or contract subject to assessment. [illustration] =8. stock certificate.= when a stockholder has paid for his shares a certificate, known as a stock certificate, is issued to him. this certificate is the written evidence issued by the corporation that the person whose name appears therein is registered on the company's books as the owner of shares of the number and par value named. the owner of a stock certificate can transfer it, and the one to whom it is transferred becomes a stockholder. such transfers are not complete, however, until registered on the books of the company. a stock certificate is not, strictly speaking, a negotiable instrument, but it is the custom among business men to indorse stock certificates in blank and transfer them from hand to hand as negotiable instruments, until some one inserts his own name and has the transfer registered on the books of the company. such indorsement does not make a stock certificate a negotiable instrument, and the purchaser can acquire no better title than is possessed by the seller. courts have held that the fact that a certificate of stock is not payable to bearer makes it non-negotiable. capitalization =9.= this is the term commonly used to designate the amount of stock which the company is authorized to issue. it may have little reference to the amount subscribed or paid in, for most states authorize corporations to begin business as soon as a certain number of shares have been subscribed for, or even when only a small part of the subscriptions have been paid. for instance, a company with an authorized capitalization of $100,000 may be permitted to commence business as soon as $10,000 has been subscribed and $1,000 is actually paid in. =10. capital and capital stock.= the _capital_ of a corporation is usually understood to mean its assets, and is a general term covering all of its property of every nature. it has no connection with the capital stock authorized or the number of shares subscribed. _capital stock_ is a term used in many ways each of which implies a different meaning. it may mean the amount which must be paid in before it can transact business as a corporation; it may mean the capital which the corporation is authorized to issue; it may mean the amount subscribed regardless of the amount actually paid in; or it may mean the amount actually paid in regardless of the amount subscribed. =11. kinds of stock.= as a rule the capital stock of a corporation is of two classes--common and preferred--though not all corporations issue both classes. _common stock_ is the stock of a corporation issued to all stockholders under the same conditions, and which is to share equally in the dividends. _preferred stock_ is stock which gives its owner certain preferences over the owners of common stock. this preference usually consists of a provision for the payment of certain dividends out of the net earnings of the business before any dividends can be paid on common stock. the officers of a corporation have no power to issue preferred stock unless it is provided for in the charter. preferred stock may, however, be issued with the consent of all common stockholders. preferred stock falls into subdivisions depending upon its provisions as follows: _cumulative_ preferred stock is stock on which the payment of dividends is not dependent upon the earnings of one year. if a dividend is passed in one year or if not paid in full, it must be paid from future earnings before common stock can draw dividends. _non-cumulative_ preferred stock is stock which carries a dividend preference only in respect to the earnings of the current year. while dividends are payable prior to dividends on common stock, no liability attaches to the corporation if earnings in any year are insufficient to pay dividends. _guaranteed stock_ is another name for cumulative or non-cumulative preferred stock--any stock on which the payment of dividends is guaranteed. a corporation may issue more than one series of preferred stock, as _first preferred_, _second preferred_, etc. these issues take preference in the payment of dividends in the order of their priority. dividends must be paid on _first preferred_ before any surplus is available for the payment of dividends on _second preferred_. =12. treasury stock.= this is stock subscribed for and issued which has been acquired by the corporation either by purchase or donation. the term is often erroneously applied to that part of the authorized capital stock which has never been issued, and the error has even been made of referring to it as unsubscribed stock. treasury stock is an asset and should be so treated on the books of the corporation. unsubscribed or unissued stock is in no sense an asset; or as one writer puts it, no more an asset than the power of a person to issue notes is an asset. =13. watered stock.= any stock which is not represented by actual assets is called watered stock. it is usually represented by fictitious assets--as patents, copyrights, franchises, promotion expense, goodwill, etc. stock subscriptions =14.= it is customary for the first board of directors to state by resolution in what manner the stock is to be disposed of; if subscriptions are to be received; if subscriptions are to be paid immediately or in installments. when the certificate of incorporation has been filed the subscription list is opened. this may be in book form, or a written or printed list. the following is a common form of stock subscription:- we, the undersigned, do hereby subscribe to the capital stock of the --------company, organized under the laws of the state of --------in the amount set forth below, and severally agree to pay the amount of such subscription as follows: when the board of directors shall, through its secretary or treasurer, certify that there has been subscribed----% of the authorized capital of $--------, then we severally agree to pay----% of said subscriptions, and to pay a further----% on the----day of each month thereafter, until the full amount of such subscriptions shall have been paid. [illustration] management of corporations =15.= the affairs of a corporation are managed by its directors who are elected by the stockholders. a director has no authority individually to bind the company. he can only act in conjunction with other directors in regular meeting as provided by the by-laws. the acts of the board are effected by orders or resolutions passed at such meetings. the number of directors constituting the board and the number required to form a quorum is specified in the by-laws. directors must attend meetings in person to be entitled to vote. they cannot be represented by proxy. since it is not practicable for the directors to attend to all of the details, they usually delegate to their officers authority to transact all of the every day business of the company. in larger corporations the directors organize themselves into subcommittees as executive committee, finance committee, etc. in small corporations these committees are unnecessary, their acts being performed by the board of directors. =16. powers of directors and officers.= the powers of the directors are extensive and are prescribed by the charter and by-laws. the directors have the power to bind the corporation in all its dealings with other persons or corporations. the powers of the stockholders are limited to the election of the directors; but as the directors are elected by a majority of the stockholders, the power to control the corporation through the election of a board of directors who will respect their wishes is thus conveyed to a majority of the stockholders. being representatives of the stockholders as a body, the directors must at all times be governed by what they honestly consider the wishes of the majority. directors have the power to make contracts with the corporation only when they are manifestly fair contracts. for example, when not otherwise provided for, they may fix a fair compensation for their services and for the services of their officers. except in cases of actual fraud, it is for the majority of stockholders to complain of such contracts, and they have the power to remove offending directors. officers of a corporation are its agents and have limited powers, usually prescribed by the by-laws. when not so specified, they are prescribed by the directors. it is not always necessary that all of the powers of an officer be specified in detail. if an officer has been accustomed to perform certain acts with the knowledge and consent of the directors, his acts become binding on the corporation. the title of an office does not necessarily convey any special powers. for example, while it is customary for the directors to confer special powers on the president, his title does not make him, in the corporation's dealings with the public, an agent of higher grade than the secretary, treasurer, or any other officer. [illustration: the superintendent's office, dobie foundry & machine co., niagara falls, n. y.] =17. powers of corporations.= as such, a corporation possesses certain necessary powers, and such other special powers as may be conferred by its charter. to have a corporate name which can only be changed by law. to sue and be sued. to possess a corporate seal. to appoint the necessary officers for the conduct of its business. to enact by-laws necessary for the management of its business, for transferring of its stock, for calling of meetings, etc. to acquire and dispose of such property as may be necessary for the conduct of the business for which it is organized. to make contracts necessary for the carrying out of its purposes. in general a corporation can engage in no other business than that specified in its charter, but it is granted certain incidental powers necessary to carry out its original purpose. =18. stockholder's rights.= each stockholder has the right to have a certificate of stock issued to him; to vote at meetings of stockholders; to inspect the books of the company; to participate in dividends; to invoke the aid of the courts in restraining the directors from committing a breach of trust. dividends =19.= every business corporation is conducted with a view to earning profits. when such profits are distributed to its stockholders they are called dividends, but stockholders cannot participate in the profits until a dividend has been declared by the directors. the law specifies that dividends must be paid out of the net surplus of the company, and provides a penalty for their payment out of capital. therefore, before declaring a dividend, the directors must be provided with a balance sheet and use every care to determine that a surplus actually exists. for dividend purposes, surplus is usually considered that part of the profits remaining after paying expenses and providing the necessary reserve to cover depreciation of machinery and buildings and losses from uncollectable accounts. sometimes a further provision is made in the by-laws for the creation of a sinking fund for the payment of bonds. the times for the payment of dividends are fixed in the certificate of incorporation or the by-laws. provision is usually made for the payment of dividends either quarterly, semi-annually, or annually. directors have full discretion in the declaration of dividends and, so long as they are acting in good faith, may add profits to capital instead of declaring a dividend. when the directors have, by proper resolution, stated that the surplus, or a part of the surplus, shall be distributed to the stockholders, a dividend is said to have been declared. when declared, a dividend becomes a debt of the corporation to its stockholders. it is not necessary that the directors declare dividends of all the surplus or net profits. frequently the by-laws provide that a certain amount be reserved as working capital, and under any circumstances the questions of the advisability of declaring a dividend rests with the directors. they cannot be compelled to declare a dividend unless it can be shown that, in declining to do so, they are acting in bad faith. =20. stock dividends.= at their discretion, the directors may, instead of paying a dividend in cash, declare what is known as a stock dividend. when there remains certain unsubscribed stock, or when the corporation is in possession of treasury stock, this stock may be issued to stockholders in payment of dividends. a stock dividend cannot, however, be declared when it would not be proper to declare a cash dividend. the assets must exceed all liabilities, and in determining the existence of a surplus available for dividends, all capital stock that has been issued must be considered as a liability. closing transfer books =21.= in large companies it is customary for the board of directors to close the stock transfer books a certain number of days prior to the date of payment of a dividend, for the purpose of obtaining the names and addresses of all stockholders. notices are then sent to all stockholders that a dividend will be paid on a certain date and that the transfer books will be closed for a stated period. transfer books are also frequently closed for a certain period prior to the annual meeting of the stockholders. the laws of some states provide that only those stockholders whose names have appeared as stockholders on the books of the company for at least thirty days prior to the date of the annual meeting, shall be entitled to vote at said meeting. stockholders' meetings =22.= meetings of stockholders are, as a rule, held annually, and the date of such meeting is usually specified in the charter. at the annual meeting the board of directors presents, through its president or other officer, a report of the business for the year, accompanied by a financial statement. at this meeting the stockholders elect directors to take the place of those whose terms of office have expired. a stockholder may vote at stockholders' meetings either in person or by proxy, and is entitled to one vote for each share of stock registered in his name at the time of the meeting. notice of a stockholders' meeting must in all cases be mailed to each stockholder at his last known address, a certain number of days prior to the date of the meeting. this notice is mailed by the secretary of the company. sale of stock below par =23.= many corporations formed to carry on business of a speculative nature find it difficult to sell stock at par. this is especially true when the assets consist largely of patents, an undeveloped mine, or property of a similar nature. it has become the custom for corporations to take over such properties, issuing in payment for the same full paid stock greatly in excess of its value. the original owners of the property will in turn donate a certain portion of the stock to the corporation to be sold to provide working capital. this stock then becomes treasury stock and is offered for sale at a liberal discount. the selling of property to a corporation at an inflated value is called the process of watering the stock. it can only be justified when an uncertainty exists as to the actual value of the property acquired. in the purchase of a going business, the real value of the goodwill is largely a matter of opinion, and the judgment of the board of directors of a corporation making such a purchase must be considered as final. corporation bookkeeping =24.= bookkeeping for a corporation as a record of its business transactions with the public is not different than bookkeeping for a single proprietorship or a partnership. there are, however, certain necessary records peculiar to a corporation, including accounts of a financial nature between the corporation and its stockholders. it is with these records and accounts that we are concerned in this discussion of corporation bookkeeping. =25. books required.= the books required for corporation records are, _stock certificate book_, _stock transfer book_, _stock ledger_, _minute book_, (and in certain cases, _installment book_, _stock register_, and _dividend book_). these are auxiliary books and are known as _stock_ books. _stock certificate book._ this is a book of stock certificates, with stubs giving full particulars of each certificate issued. when a stock register is used, the record is posted to it from the stub, otherwise posting is made direct from the stub to the stock ledger. _stock transfer book._ this is a book in which is kept a record of all transfers of stock. each entry is practically a copy of the form of assignment found on the back of the stock certificate. it is supposed that each transfer will be signed by the one transferring the stock, but frequently when certificates are presented with the proper endorsement, the transfer is signed by the one making the transfer as _attorney in fact_. the transfer book is made with two, and sometimes three, transfers to a page. transfers are posted to the stock register, when used, or direct to the stock ledger. [illustration: transfer book] _stock ledger._ this is the book in which an account is kept with each stockholder showing the number of shares held by him. sometimes the amount is included. when a stockholder receives a certificate of stock it is posted to the credit side of his account in the stock ledger. when he transfers a certificate it is posted to the debit side of his account. a trial balance of the stock ledger should be taken at stated periods, for the stock standing to the credit of the stockholders should equal the total stock outstanding. the stock ledger is supposed to show only the stock issued and the names of its holders. for example, if the authorized stock of a corporation is 1,000 shares and there remains 300 shares unsubscribed, the stock ledger will show 700 shares--the total issued--to the credit of individual stockholders. an account should be opened in the stock ledger with _capital stock_, which account will be debited with all stock issued. this is in effect a representative account since it represents the total stock that should stand to the credit of other accounts in the stock ledger. [illustration: stock ledger] _minute book._ this is a record book in which the secretary keeps records or minutes of the proceedings of all stockholders' and directors' meetings. this is an official record of the acts of the corporation, and is frequently called for to be introduced in court as evidence. the secretary is custodian of the minute book and should see that it is carefully preserved. _installment book._ when stock subscriptions are payable in installments, a form of receipt called a scrip or installment certificate is issued. as payments are made they are endorsed on the back of this certificate, and when all payments have been made the scrip is exchanged for a regular stock certificate. these scrip certificates are bound in book form similar to stock certificates. sometimes the scrip certificate takes the form of an installment receipt for the amount paid, all receipts being surrendered to the company when payments have been completed. [illustration: installment certificate] _stock register._ some large corporations keep, in addition to the stock ledger and transfer books, a stock register which is a complete register of all stock issued. this book is kept by the _registrar_--usually a trust company or bank. all certificates are entered in the register in numerical order and full particulars of each are given. when a transfer is made both the old and new certificates must be taken to the registrar, who cancels the old and places his indorsement on the new, certifying that it has been registered. one purpose of having a registrar is to prevent an over-issue of stock. the number of shares shown on the register must not exceed the number of shares which the corporation is authorized to issue. [illustration: stock register] _dividend book._ when the directors declare a dividend it is necessary to make a list of stockholders entitled to receive a dividend. large corporations use a special form similar to the one illustrated. it is made either in a book or on loose sheets which are placed in a binder. [illustration: dividend book] some stockholders issue written orders to pay all dividends to some other person, which makes it necessary to record on this list the name of the person to whom this dividend is payable, as well as the name of the stockholder. opening entries =26.= in opening the books of a corporation it is necessary to first get the capital entered. in a proprietorship, the capital is credited to the owner; in a partnership it is credited to the individual partners. on the books of a corporation an account called capital stock is opened, to which capital is credited. this account is opened in the general ledger and original entries are made in the journal. the manner of making the opening entries depends upon the method of disposing of the capital stock. _if stock is sold for cash only_ and the entire amount is subscribed and paid for, the entry is simply cash $100,000 to capital stock $100,000 stock subscribed and paid for by the following: john doe $50,000 richard roe 25,000 henry snow 25,000 as per subscription list dated--------190----. _if only a part of the authorized stock is subscribed_, there are two methods of entering the transaction. first: debit cash and credit capital stock as above, only as fast as stock is subscribed and paid for. second: debit cash and credit capital stock for the amount actually subscribed and paid for. debit a new account called _unsubscribed stock_ and credit capital stock for the balance of the total authorized issue of stock. illustrating the above, we will suppose that the national manufacturing co. is organized with a capitalization of $100,000, of which $50,000 is subscribed and paid for in cash. the entries would be:- cash $50,000 to capital stock $50,000 stock subscribed and paid for by the following: john doe $25,000 richard roe 15,000 henry snow 10,000 ------- unsubscribed stock 50,000 to capital stock 50,000 _if stock is not paid for when subscribed_ or if it is payable in installments the entry is: john doe 25,000 richard roe 15,000 henry snow 10,000 to capital stock 50,000 for subscription to stock as per subscription list. or if it is not desired to enter the names of the subscribers an account is opened in the name of _subscriptions_, and the entry is: subscriptions 50,000 to capital stock 50,000 the above entries at once place the entire authorized capital stock on the books. when further subscriptions are made, subscription account is debited and unsubscribed stock is credited. when subscriptions are paid, cash is debited and subscriptions credited. when subscriptions are payable in regular installments, payments may be credited to subscriptions. the plan is sometimes followed, however, of opening an account for each installment, as installment no. 1, to which payments are credited. when the installment is fully paid this account would be closed into subscription account. or still another formula--when stock has been sold _subject to assessments to be made by the board of directors_, and an assessment has been called the entry is: assessment no. 1. $10,000 to subscriptions $10,000 an assessment of 20% as per resolution of the board of directors john doe 5,000 richard roe 3,000 henry snow 2,000 when paid, cash is debited and assessment no. 1 is credited. when the next assessment is called an account is opened with assessment no. 2. =27. when a part of the stock is paid for in property and the balance in money.= a corporation known as the national manufacturing company is formed to take over a manufacturing business owned by john doe. the capital stock is $100,000 of which mr. doe is to receive $50,000 for the assets and goodwill of his business, the company agreeing to assume his liabilities. his statement of affairs shows the following: _assets_ cash in bank $2,264.00 accounts receivable 4,650.50 machinery 9,000.00 manufactured goods 2,100.00 material and supplies 3,780.00 furniture and fixtures 700.00 $22,494.50 ------- _liabilities_ accounts payable 864.20 864.20 ------- ------- 21,630.30 since the net assets are $21,630.30, and the stock to be issued to john doe is $50,000 the difference, or $28,369.70, represents the amount paid for the goodwill of the business. the transaction is entered as follows:- property and goodwill of the business of john doe, transferred to this company as per resolution of the board of directors, dec. 21st, 1908. goodwill $28,369.70 cash 2,264.00 accounts receivable 4,650.50 machinery 9,000.00 manufactured goods 2,100.00 material and supplies 3,780.00 furniture and fixtures 700.00 accounts payable $864.20 capital stock 50,000.00 one half of the capital stock is thus accounted for. the balance is to be subscribed, and when subscribed the entries will be as explained in art. 26, depending upon whether subscriptions are paid in full or in installments. =28. when stock is issued in payment of property and a part of the stock is to be donated to the company.= john doe owns a valuable patent on an automobile attachment and desires to secure capital to carry on its manufacture. he interests richard roe and henry snow, who agree to assist him to form the national manufacturing company to take over his patent and manufacture the attachment. the company is incorporated with an authorized capitalization of $150,000. roe and snow agree that doe shall receive $100,000 full paid stock for his patent, and to subscribe $25,000 each, payable in cash to be used for the purchase of the necessary machinery. john doe, in turn, agrees to donate $50,000 of his stock to provide working capital. the entries are: patents $100,000 capital stock $100,000 full paid stock issued to john doe to pay for patents transferred to the company by bill of sale dated dec. 2, 1908. subscriptions $50,000 capital stock $50,000 subscriptions to capital stock as follows:- richard roe $25,000 henry snow 25,000 ------- treasury stock 50,000 working capital 50,000 full paid stock donated by john doe to provide working capital. when subscriptions are paid:- cash 50,000 subscriptions 50,000 it is decided to sell $30,000 of the treasury stock at 50% of its face value, and subscriptions are received for this amount. subscription to treasury stock 30,000 treasury stock 30,000 subscription account is debited and treasury stock credited for the full amount since this is the amount of full paid stock to be issued, regardless of the price at which it is sold. when this stock is paid for, the entry in the cash book on the debit side is: subscriptions to treasury stock 15,000 this leaves a debit balance of $15,000 in the account _subscriptions to treasury stock_, which represents a discount on the stock sold. the manner of disposing of this discount depends upon the provisions made by the directors in respect to the creating of working capital. if their resolution provides that the fund maintained for working capital shall be only such an amount as may be realized from the sale of treasury stock, the discount is disposed of by the following entry: working capital 15,000 subscriptions to treasury stock 15,000 discount on 30,000 treasury stock sold. suppose, however, that the directors have provided by resolution for the maintaining of a working capital of $50,000. in that case the liability for the full $50,000 must remain on the books until such time as other provision is made. the entry would then be: bonus $15,000 subscriptions to treasury stock $15,000 the discount is, to all intents, a bonus given to the purchasers, and if, as frequently happens, purchasers are promised a bonus of a share of stock for every share purchased, it would be proper to make the following entry in the first place. subscriptions to treasury stock 15,000 bonus 15,000 treasury stock 30,000 sold 30,000 treasury stock at 50% of face value. in any dividend distribution the purchasers are entitled to draw dividends on the face value of their stock, since it was issued to them as full paid. it would be manifestly unfair to charge the discount or bonus against profits for the current year, and it is customary to spread it over a period of several years, charging off a certain per cent each year. the bonus account is, in the meantime, carried on the books as an asset, and belongs in the class known as _fictitious_ assets. treasury stock is an asset, its real value being the market value of the stock represented. in the event of liquidation of the company, treasury stock would off-set the liability on account of capital stock. when all of the treasury stock is sold the account closes itself; or if it is issued to stockholders in the form of stock dividends, it is closed into profit and loss. working capital is a liability, which may be termed an _assumed_ or _nominal_ liability. like capital stock it is a liability only as between the company and its stockholders. it off-sets whatever form of asset--cash or otherwise--that represents proceeds from the sale of treasury stock. the real position of working capital in the balance sheet is that of a capital liability which must be considered before any surplus available for dividends can be said to exist. power is usually given the directors to reserve a certain amount for working capital, and even though an actual surplus may exist they have the right to off-set this with a working capital liability instead of declaring a dividend. =29. premium on stock.= the stocks of many well-managed enterprises sell at a premium. in all such cases the amount received above the par or face value is credited to an account called _premium on stock_. at the end of the year this account is closed into surplus account. if any such items are standing on the books it can be used to off-set bonus account or organization expenses. it is not proper to close premium account into the current profit and loss account, for while it represents a profit, it is not earned in the regular operations of the business. =30. reduction of working capital.= as before stated, so long as working capital remains on the books it must be treated as a liability. having the right to create working capital, the directors also have the right to reduce it whenever, in their judgment, the necessities of the business no longer require its maintenance in the original amount. a reduction of working capital has the effect of increasing surplus, since surplus is increased by an increase of assets or a decrease of liabilities. to reduce working capital, the account is closed into surplus. it is perhaps necessary to say that the account should not be closed into profit and loss, since it does not represent current profits. suppose that in the case of the national manufacturing co., it is desired to reduce working capital from $50,000 to $25,000; the entry would be: working capital $25,000 surplus $25,000 working capital reduced by resolution of the board of directors, january 15th, 1909. entries in stock books =31.= the entries in the stock books are very simple and are just the opposite of stock entries in the general or financial books of the company. when certificates of stock are issued, an account is opened in the stock ledger with each stockholder, to which is credited the stock issued to him. at the same time an account is opened in this ledger with capital stock which is debited with all stock issued, thus preserving the balance of the stock ledger. taking the example in art. 26, when stock is issued- we debit- capital stock $150,000 we credit- john doe $100,000 richard roe 25,000 henry snow 25,000 when the $50,000 stock is donated to the treasury to provide working capital- we debit john doe 50,000 we credit treasury stock 50,000 and open an account with treasury stock in the stock ledger. when treasury stock is sold- we debit treasury stock 30,000 we credit subscribers 30,000 when a stockholder sells a part or all of his shares to another it has no effect on capital stock or treasury stock accounts in the stock ledger. the only change takes place in the accounts of the individual stockholders involved. the stock transferred is debited to the account of the _transferor_, and credited to the account of the _transferee_. supposing that $30,000 treasury stock was purchased by henry benson, george dennis, and richard carpenter, each purchasing $10,000, the stock ledger and stock register--if one is used--would appear as shown in the illustration. footing the two sides of the stock register we find a balance of 1,300 shares which is the actual amount outstanding, the balance of 200 shares remaining in the treasury. a trial balance also shows that the stock ledger balances with a credit of $20,000 treasury stock. [illustration: stock ledger] [illustration: stock ledger] [illustration: air-line cash-carrying system for large retail drug store applicable to a moderate-sized general store. lamson consolidated store service co.] [illustration: stock register] exercises 1. a corporation is organized with a capital of $50,000.00, divided into 500 shares of $100.00 each. the corporation begins business when 250 shares have been subscribed for. of this amount _a_ subscribes for 100 shares, _b_ for 100 shares, and _c_ for 50 shares. these shares are paid for in cash within 30 days after the date of subscriptions. six months later the balance of the stock is subscribed for, subscriptions being received from _a_ for 50 shares, _b_, 50 shares, _d_, 100 shares, and _e_, 50 shares. _c_ sells 50 shares to _b_. these new shares are paid for in cash. make all entries in general books. make all entries in stock books. 2. _a_, _b_, and _c_ organize a corporation with an authorized capitalization of $100,000.00, divided into 1,000 shares of $100.00 each. _a_ subscribes for 400 shares, _b_, 300 shares, and _c_, 200 shares. the corporation buys from _d_ land and buildings for $20,000.00, paying him $10,000.00 in cash and issuing to him 100 shares of stock. subscriptions are paid as follows: _a_ pays $20,000.00 cash and gives his note due in 60 days for $20,000.00; _b_ pays $20,000.00 cash and gives his note for $10,000.00 payable in 30 days; _c_ pays $10,000.00 cash and gives his note for $10,000.00 payable in 10 days. make all entries in journal and cash book and post to ledger. note.--land and buildings are grouped under the head of real estate. 3. john davis and daniel greene own the la belle mine, and to secure capital for its development they decide to organize a mining company and to sell shares. a corporation is organized with a capitalization of $1,000,000.00 in shares of $1.00 each. of this stock 999,000 shares are issued to davis and greene, each receiving an equal number, and they, in turn, deed the la belle mine to the company. the remaining 1,000 shares are subscribed and paid for by martin otis. davis and greene donate to the treasury 49,800 shares to be sold for the purpose of securing working capital. the directors, by proper resolution, decide to sell 200,000 shares: 50,000 shares to be sold at 20 cents on the dollar, 50,000 shares at 25 cents, and 100,000 shares at 35 cents. the resolution also provides that the corporation's liability for working capital shall be no more than the amount realized from the sale of treasury stock. subscriptions are received for the 200,000 shares and payments are made at the prices specified. make all necessary entries to get these transactions properly recorded on both the general and stock books. stock issued for promotion =32.= frequently when a corporation is organized, stock is issued to a promoter as payment for his services. an enterprise may have great latent possibilities provided sufficient capital can be secured for its development, but until the possibilities for making a profit can be clearly shown, it is difficult to interest the investing public. to interest investors in an enterprise yet to be developed requires a special talent not possessed by the average owner of a patent, mine, or process. there are men who possess this special talent and who make a business of promoting companies. in many cases--probably most cases--the owner of the thing to be promoted has no money with which to pay the promoter. consequently, the promoter first satisfies himself that the enterprise actually holds possibilities of profit and then agrees to accept all or a part of his fees in the stock of the company. the portion of his fee that he is willing to accept in stock, and the number of shares demanded, is governed largely by his own faith in the enterprise. his fee may be a certain per cent on the stock sold, or it may be an arbitrary sum represented by a certain number of shares. when he accepts his entire fee in stock, it may represent from 25 per cent to 50 per cent of the entire capitalization, and while the fee may appear exorbitant when represented by the par value of the stock, its actual value to him is represented by the _real_ value of the stock, or the price at which he could sell it. volumes might be written on the subject of promotion, but our special concern is the proper treatment of promotion fees on the books of the company. strictly speaking, promotion fees are as much an expense as the cost of printing the company's prospectus, but to immediately charge it to expense would, in many cases, cause the accounts to show an impairment of capital at the outset. suppose, for example, that a corporation is organized with a capital of $100,000.00 all paid in cash. the promoter is paid a fee of $15,000.00. profits earned--trading profits--in the first year are $8,000.00, but we have a charge of $15,000.00 for promotion in the expense account. the books show that the company is insolvent, the liabilities being $7,000.00 in excess of the assets, while the business actually is in a healthy condition. expenses paid in the regular course of business are expected to be off-set by earnings. when we pay rent for a store or office we expect that, by reason of our occupancy of that store or office as a place of business, our earnings will be increased in an amount greater than that paid for rent. promotion expense cannot, in itself, produce earnings. the cash, or other form of asset, received from the sale of stock--the direct result of promotion expense--is off-set by the stock liability created. earnings to off-set promotion expense must come from future operations of the business. it has become quite the general custom, therefore, to allow the expense incident to the organization of the company to stand on the books as a fictitious asset, under some such caption as _promotion expense_, _promotion fund_, or _organization expense_. the amount is gradually reduced by charging a stated per cent to profit and loss each year. there is another special reason why it would be manifestly unfair to immediately charge promotion fees to expense. suppose a promoter receives 20% of the stock for his services, while the holders of the remaining 80% have paid cash for their shares. since the 80 per cent paid in cash must earn dividends on the entire 100 per cent of stock, it would be unjust to the holders of the 80 per cent to withhold dividends until the par value of the 20 per cent of stock shall have been added to the assets of the company from profits earned. =the entry.= a patent is owned by geo. davis, who secures the services of wm. lane to promote a company to undertake its manufacture. the corporation is capitalized at $500,000.00. davis sells the patent to the company receiving $250,000.00 stock in payment, and lane receives $25,000.00 stock for promotion, when he has secured subscriptions for the remaining $225,000.00 at par. the entries to record the issue of stock to lane for promotion are: subscriptions $25,000.00 capital stock $25,000.00 subscription of wm. lane promotion expense 25,000.00 wm. lane 25,000.00 fee due wm. lane for promotion of company and sale of stock. ------- wm. lane 25,000.00 subscriptions 25,000.00 amount due to lane credited to subscriptions to pay for stock subscribed by him. the entries for the shares issued to davis and those sold are the same as previously explained and illustrated. surplus and dividends =33.= the directors are under no obligation to distribute in dividends the profits earned in any one year. instead, the by-laws usually provide that the decision as to when a dividend shall be declared is to be left entirely to the directors. they have it in their power to retain of the profits such an amount as, in their judgment, is advisable or necessary to safeguard the interests of the company. at the close of the fiscal year it is customary to close profit and loss account, and in a corporation it is closed into surplus. =34. surplus sub-divided.= sometimes the term surplus is used to designate a part of the profits set aside for a special purpose, as the creation of a fund to meet an obligation falling due at some future date. when surplus is treated as a special fund, or when it has been provided by resolution of the directors "_that a certain sum, or a certain per cent of the profits shall be set aside as a surplus fund_," and remaining profits not distributed as dividends may be placed to the credit of an account called _undivided profits_ or _undistributed profits_. in reality undivided profits is surplus, and the division of the account merely serves to show that the amount credited to surplus is for some reason reserved, while the amount credited to undivided profits is available for dividends whenever the directors may so elect. whether or not the surplus should be shown in the balance sheet under these various headings, or all under the general head of surplus, with explanatory notes, is a question which need not concern us at this point. =35. declaring a cash dividend.= when a dividend is declared an account should be opened under the caption _dividends payable_ or _dividend no. 1._, etc. we will suppose that a dividend has been declared out of the profits of the business for the current year. the entry is:- profit and loss dividends payable dividend of----% declared by the board of directors --------1909, payable--------1909. when the dividend is paid the entry will be- dividends payable cash to pay dividend payable --------1909. =36. declaring a stock dividend.= not all dividends are paid or payable in cash. sometimes the directors declare a dividend payable in stock and this is known as a stock dividend. there may be treasury stock in possession of the treasurer, and if the books show a surplus, which would make it proper to declare a cash dividend, a dividend may be declared payable in treasury stock. when such a dividend is declared the entry is- profit and loss stock dividend a dividend of----% declared by the board of directors --------1909 payable--------1909, payment to be made in treasury stock stock dividend treasury stock to pay stock dividend declared--------1909. the shares are then transferred on the stock books debiting treasury stock and crediting stockholders. it is not absolutely necessary that a company possess treasury stock to declare a stock dividend. when current profits are large or a surplus, larger than the requirements of the business demand, has been accumulated, a stock dividend may be declared by issuing additional shares, provided the original stock has not all been subscribed for. if a large surplus has been accumulated and a part of the stock is unsubscribed, a stock dividend would require the following entries: surplus stock dividend a stock dividend of----% declared by the directors--------1909 payable in the unissued stock of this company. ------- subscriptions capital stock additional stock subscriptions received from the following. ------- stock dividends subscriptions stock dividend due stockholders used to off-set subscriptions. the stock dividend is a device frequently used to conceal actual profits, or to cover up the fact that dividends are being declared in excess of a fixed rate. this is especially true of such public service corporations as lighting companies or street railways. in many cases a company will go through the necessary formalities to increase its capital stock for the purpose of absorbing surplus by means of a stock dividend. =37. treatment of a loss.= if, during any year, the business has sustained a loss, it will, of course, appear as a balance on the debit side of profit and loss account. this will then be transferred to the debit of undivided profits or surplus, if any, remaining from previous years. for illustration, suppose the books show a surplus of $5,000.00, undivided profits $500.00, loss for the current year $2,500.00, the entry will be:- undivided profits $500.00 surplus 2,000.00 profit and loss $2,500.00 loss for the year. if there is no surplus remaining from former years, the business is insolvent, in which case the capital is said to be impaired. this can be taken care of in either of two ways. first--by the stockholders subscribing to a fund to cover the deficiency. second--by a reduction of the capital stock. exercises 1. david francis and henry harmon own a large tract of timber land in mexico. in connection with f. b. walker--a promoter--they organize a corporation to build railways and mills for the purpose of developing the property and to market the timber. the company is capitalized for $1,000,000.00. the land is sold to the corporation for $1,000,000.00, stock for that amount being issued to francis, harmon, and walker. francis and harmon each received $400,000.00 and walker, $200,000.00. this $200,000.00 stock is issued to walker as his fee for promoting the company. francis and harmon each donate 250 shares, of the par value of $100.00 each, to the treasury to be sold to produce working capital. make all necessary entries in general books. 2. the profits of a manufacturing company with a paid up capital of $100,000.00, are $9,765.00. the directors, by proper resolution, declare a cash dividend of 6 per cent, set aside a surplus of $3,000.00, and transfer the balance to undivided profits. make all necessary entries in general books, showing ledger accounts after payment of dividends. 3. the following year's business of the above company showed a loss of $2,160.00. how is this loss disposed of? make entries. 4. a company capitalized at $250,000.00 has sold $100,000.00 of its stock, the balance being unsubscribed. its accumulated surplus is $90,000.00, and the directors declare a stock dividend of 50 per cent to all stockholders. make all entries. 5. a manufacturing company has a capital stock of $100,000.00. one item in its assets is machinery $26,750.00. the profits for the year are $11,640.00. the directors provide for a reserve for depreciation of machinery of 10% and declare a dividend of 5%. make all entries. changing books from a partnership to a corporation =38.= wilson, brackett, and nixon have been conducting a retail clothing business under a partnership agreement. appreciating the advantages of a corporate form of organization, they decide to incorporate under the name of the continental clothing company. the first step necessary to prepare for the incorporation of a partnership is to ascertain the net capital of the business as it stands. accordingly, an inventory is taken, the books are closed, and a balance sheet prepared with the following results: _balance sheet of wilson, brackett, and nixon_ _assets_ cash $1,650.72 bills receivable $1,725.00 accounts receivable 3,264.18 4,989.18 ------- merchandise inventory 10,450.00 furniture and fixtures 4,000.00 14,450.00 $21,089.90 ------- ------- _liabilities_ bills payable 3,000.00 accounts payable 2,089.00 5,089.90 ------- wilson, capital account 7,000.00 brackett, capital account 5,000.00 nixon, capital account 4,000.00 16,000.00 21,089.90 ------- -------from this balance sheet it is seen that the net capital is $16,000.00, of which wilson owns $7,000.00, brackett, $5,000.00, and nixon, $4,000.00. on this showing, it is decided to form the company with a capital stock of $20,000.00, all of which is to be issued as full paid stock to the partners in proportion to their interests in the partnership. new books are opened for the corporation and the next step is to transfer the accounts of the partnership to the corporation. an account is opened in the partnership ledger with the continental clothing company and the following entry is made: continental clothing co. $21,089.90 cash $1,650.72 bills receivable 1,725.00 accounts receivable 3,264.18 merchandise inventory 10,450.00 furniture and fixtures 4,000.00 the above entry closes all of the asset accounts and shows that they have been transferred to the new company. the next entry is: bills payable $3,000.00 accounts payable 2,089.90 wilson 7,000.00 brackett 5,000.00 nixon 4,000.00 continental clothing co. $21,089.90 the above entry closes the liability and partners' accounts showing that they have been transferred to the new company and also closes the account of the continental clothing co. =39. entries on the corporation books.= we are now ready to open the books of the new company. subscription books are opened and the following subscriptions are received: wilson 8,750.00 brackett 6,250.00 nixon 5,000.00 the net assets of the partnership are $4,000.00 less than the capital stock of the new company. no money is to be invested to cover this discrepancy, so it will be necessary to account for it on the books by opening a fictitious asset account under some such name as _goodwill_. having made this provision, the books of the new company are opened by the following entries: subscriptions 20,000.00 capital stock 20,000.00 subscriptions received as per subscription books. ------- cash 1,650.72 bills receivable 1,725.00 accounts receivable 3,264.18 merchandise inventory 10,450,00 furniture and fixtures 4,000.00 goodwill 4,000.00 bills payable 3,000.00 accounts payable 2,089.90 subscriptions 20,000.00 the business and goodwill of the firm of wilson, brackett, and nixon transferred to this company in payment of subscriptions to capital stock. these entries serve to get the capital stock, also the assets and liabilities of the partnership properly recorded on the books of the new company. stock donated to employes =40.= a partnership composed of benson, black, and mabley is conducting a retail hardware business. they desire to give their bookkeeper (parker) an interest in the business. the firm has the following assets and liabilities: _assets_ cash $3,000.00 accounts receivable 2,000.00 merchandise 15,000.00 total assets $20,000.00 _liabilities_ accounts payable 2,000.00 benson capital 6,000.00 black capital 6,000.00 mabley capital 6,000.00 total liabilities 20,000.00 they incorporate the benson company with a capitalization of $40,000.00 divided into 400 shares of $100.00 each. benson, black, and mabley each subscribe for 100 shares, and 20 shares are presented to parker. the balance of the stock is to remain unsubscribed until such time as it is decided to accept further subscriptions. the business of the partnership is to be accepted by the company in payment of subscriptions which have been made, and which are for 320 shares or $32,000.00. the net assets of the partnership being $18,000.00, goodwill must represent the balance of $14,000.00. the entries on the books of the partnership follow- the benson co. $20,000.00 cash $ 3,000.00 accounts receivable 2,000.00 merchandise inv. 15,000.00 ------- accounts payable 2,000.00 benson 6,000.00 black 6,000.00 mabley 6,000.00 the benson co. 20,000.00 =41. on books of the benson co.= the entries on the books of the new company are the same as in previous illustrations, the stock donated to parker having been a gift from the partnership and the amount included in the goodwill. subscriptions 32,000.00 capital stock 32,000.00 ------- cash 3,000.00 accounts receivable 2,000.00 merchandise inventory 15,000.00 goodwill 14,000.00 accounts payable 2,000.00 subscriptions 32,000.00 =42. when the gift is made by an existing corporation.= we will suppose that the benson co. wishes to donate 10 shares of stock to each of three employes, _a_, _b_, and _c_. having 80 shares unsubscribed, the donation will be made from that stock. supposing that the company has accumulated a surplus, the transaction will be entered on the "books" as follows: subscriptions 3,000.00 capital stock 3,000.00 subscriptions of _a_, _b_, & _c_ per subscription book. ------- surplus 3,000.00 subscription 3,000.00 surplus appropriated to subscriptions per resolution of the board of directors jan. 25th, 1909. the above would be a rather unusual proceeding as the stock is fully paid, though such gifts are sometimes made. the tendency of the present times is toward profit sharing for the employes of corporations. the plan of profit sharing takes many forms, and there are some notable examples among very large corporations which have given employes stock in the corporation, or afforded them an opportunity to acquire stock on very favorable terms. among smaller corporations it is quite common to enable employes to acquire its stock subject to certain special conditions. frequently employes are permitted to subscribe for stock with an agreement that they are to pay no money, but that dividends declared are to be applied to the payment of subscriptions. in this way the stock is made to pay for itself out of its own earnings. sometimes provision is made for the payment of small annual installments on the subscriptions in addition to applying the dividends. when stock is issued to employes under these conditions, the contract sometimes specifies that in the event of the subscriber leaving its employ before the subscription is paid in full, the ownership of the stock shall revert to the company, and in such cases the stock, until it becomes full paid, is usually placed in the hands of a trustee. the principal object in issuing stock to an employe and surrounding the transaction with these restrictions is, of course, to insure his continuous service by making it an object to him to remain in the employ of the company. when stock is so issued, the entry is- subscriptions capital stock subscriptions to stock by employes, said stock to be issued subject to the conditions named in the resolution authorizing its issue, passed by the board of directors january 25th, 1909. the subscription account is left open until such time as it is closed by the payments credited. when a dividend is declared the entries are- surplus dividends payable being a dividend of----% declared by the board of directors on--------1909 payable--------1909. ------- dividends payable subscriptions dividend applied to the payment of subscriptions. another provision sometimes met with in the issue of stock to an employe is that in lieu of an increase in salary he shall receive, at the end of the year, a certain amount in stock. he is then permitted to subscribe for a stated amount of stock and to apply the bonus, or added salary, as a payment. the bonus is usually a stated per cent of sales or of net profits. when such a contingency arises the entry is- salaries john jones ----% of sales as per agreement. john jones subscriptions amt. due applied in payment of stock subscription. if he has no account, on the books the transaction may be recorded by one entry- salaries $1,500.00 subscriptions $1,500.00 -----------when stock subscriptions are never fully paid =43.= corporations are sometimes organized with all capital stock subscribed but only paid for in part, and the balance of subscriptions never called for. t. c. harris, john alfred, and m. b. hatch organize a company to conduct the business of buying, selling, and renting automobiles with a capital stock of $15,000.00, each subscribing for $5,000.00. a cash payment of 25% is made on the stock and the balance is to be paid in when called for. the entries stand on the books as follows- subscriptions $15,000.00 capital stock $15,000.00 cash 3,750.00 subscriptions 3,750.00 the business prospers to such an extent that the profits provide sufficient money and it is not likely that the stockholders will be called upon for further payments. it is decided to reduce the stock to $5,000.00 and to declare a dividend to make this stock full paid. the entries for these transactions follow: capital stock 10,000.00 subscriptions 10,000.00 capital stock reduced in accordance with resolution of board of directors passed jan. 27, 1909. ------- surplus 1,250.00 dividends payable 1,250.00 dividend declared by board of directors jan. 27, 1909, payable immediately. ------- dividends payable 1,250.00 subscriptions 1,250.00 dividends applied to the payment of stock subscriptions. the original stock certificates are now surrendered and new ones issued in their place. in the stock ledger the stockholders are debited and capital stock credited for the shares surrendered. then, capital stock is debited and stockholders credited for the new shares issued. it might happen that a corporation wishes to reduce the capital stock held by stockholders without having it appear that capital stock has been reduced. this has been done by purchasing its stock and placing it in the treasury. payment for the stock may be made in cash or notes, or it may be taken from surplus. the entries would be- treasury stock 10,000.00 cash 10,000.00 or treasury stock 10,000.00 bills payable 10,000.00 or treasury stock 10,000.00 surplus 10,000.00 if the capital stock is to be reduced on the books, capital stock will take the place of treasury stock in these entries as- capital stock 10,000.00 cash 10,000.00 exercises 1. parsons, young, and searles are partners and decide to form a corporation with capital stock of $40,000.00, which is to be issued as full paid stock in exchange for their present business. each partner is to receive stock in proportion to his interest in the present business. the balance sheet of the partnership is as follows: _assets_ cash 3,500.00 bills receivable 6,000.00 accounts receivable 6,500.00 merchandise 14,000.00 ------- total 30,000.00 _liabilities_ bills payable 4,000.00 accounts payable 2,000.00 parsons 10,000.00 young 8,000.00 searles 6,000.00 ------- total 30,000.00 make entries on books of the partnership. make entries on books of the corporation. [illustration: a corner in one of the shops of browne & sharpe manufacturing co., providence, r. i.] 2. hoadley and stockton are partners and desire to incorporate a company with a capital of $10,000.00 to take over their business. it being necessary to have three incorporators they agree to give hopper, an employee, 10 shares--$1,000.00--of the stock of the new company. the stock is to be divided equally between hoadley and stockton after giving hopper $1,000.00. the balance sheet of the partnership is as follows: _assets_ cash $960.00 accounts receivable 1,570.00 merchandise 720.00 ------- total $3,250.00 _liabilities_ accounts payable 460.00 bills payable 500.00 hoadley 1,145.00 stockton 1,145.00 ------- total 3,250.00 make all necessary entries on the books of the partnership. make open entries on the books of the new company. 3. the national manufacturing co., has an authorized capital of $100,000.00 of which $60,000.00 is paid up and $40,000.00 unsubscribed. it is decided to permit employes to subscribe for $10,000.00 of the stock by paying 10 per cent in cash, all dividends declared to be applied to the payment of subscriptions. what entries are made when this stock is subscribed for? a 10 per cent dividend being declared at the end of the first year what entry is required? 4. the atlas novelty co. has a capital stock of $50,000.00. all of the stock has been subscribed for, but only 40 per cent has been paid. a surplus of $10,000,00 has been accumulated. it is desired to reduce the stock to $25,000.00 full paid. what is the necessary proceeding, and what entries are required? 5. a company has a capital stock of $50,000.00 full paid, and a surplus of $11,172.00. a stockholder who owns $7,000.00 stock in the company wishes to dispose of his stock and, to secure cash, offers to sell it to the company at par. his offer is accepted and the stock purchased, but the company does not wish to reduce its capitalization. what is the entry? reserves and their treatment =44.= a reserve is an amount retained from current earnings to meet a future contingency. according to a prominent authority whose recent discussions of this subject have attracted attention, _a reserve is an expression of the judgment of the accountant as to what amount will be necessary to meet a contingency_. reserves are created for many purposes, among which the following are good examples. _reserves for bad debts._ an amount--usually a stated per cent of accounts receivable--annually set aside to cover losses from uncollectable accounts. _reserves for depreciation._ the plant--buildings and machinery--will wear out, no matter how substantially built. a charge is made against current earnings to create a reserve which will provide for a renewal of the plant, or any part of it, when worn out. separate reserves are usually maintained for buildings and machinery. _reserves for patents, franchise, goodwill_ and similar fictitious assets. an annual charge of an amount sufficient to extinguish the value at which the fictitious asset has been placed on the books. _reserves for permanent improvements on leased property._ permanent buildings, title to which will revert to the lessor at the expiration of the lease, are sometimes erected on leased property. a reserve is created to absorb the cost of such improvements during the life of the lease. _reserves for buildings in hazardous undertakings._ in certain lines of business, manufacturing plants are erected with the expectation of having a permanent supply of raw material. if the supply gives out, the plant may be valueless for other purposes. examples are oil wells and mines. a reserve is created to absorb the cost. the reserve is coming into more general use every year, especially by corporations, whose managers see the necessity of providing for these contingencies. when a machine wears out it must be replaced. if no reserve has been created, the money for its replacement must come from current earnings, or be provided by borrowing money or increasing capital. the better plan is to make provision in advance by creating a reserve. the amount of the reserve should be the value of the asset, and the sum set aside annually should be sufficient to equal the value of the asset at the end of its estimated life. to illustrate, if a machine is estimated to last 10 years, the annual reserve for depreciation should be 10% of its cost. the reserve is carried on the books as a liability and is an off-set to the asset which it is to replace. if we were to prepare a statement of the value of machinery as shown by the books we would state it in this form- machinery $20,000 less reserve for depreciation 2,000 ------- $18,000 this shows the exact amount at which this asset is valued. taking the illustration referred to--at the end of 10 years the liability _reserve for depreciation_ will equal the asset _machinery_, and the funds which have been reserved from profits during the past 10 years will be available for the purchase of new machinery. =45. reserve funds.= a term frequently used to designate a reserve created for a certain purpose is reserve fund. this term is somewhat confusing for when we speak of a _fund_ we are more likely to think of it as an asset than as a liability. when the principle underlying reserves is thoroughly understood, however, it is readily seen that the use of the term _reserve fund_ is merely a question of the use of english and does not affect the principle. a reserve or _reserve fund_ is a nominal liability artificially created to off-set a decrease in value of an asset. on the principle that an increase of liabilities represents a loss, the amount reserved each year represents a loss, but since the liability created is not a real but a nominal liability it does not affect the real assets of the business. =46. sinking funds.= a sinking fund is an amount set aside out of profits to meet an anticipated liability, or an obligation which is to fall due at some future date. sinking funds are set aside for such purposes as the payment of bonds at maturity, mortgages, etc. the sinking fund is the amount which, invested at compound interest, will produce the desired amount at the end of the period. a sinking fund is an asset and may or may not be withdrawn from the business. frequently a sinking fund is invested in securities, such as government bonds, which are placed in the hands of a trustee, thus insuring against the withdrawal of the funds from actual use in the business. unlike a reserve, a sinking fund has no effect on the apparent profits of the period in which it is created. it does, however, tie up or render unavailable for dividends a certain part of those profits. whether or not it is carried on the books in a separate account, a sinking fund is a part of the surplus of a business. =47. computing sinking funds.= the amount necessary to set aside at the end of the year to provide a given sum in a stipulated number of years at a stated rate of interest, compounded annually, may be found as follows: divide the interest for one year upon the sum to be accumulated by the compound interest upon $1.00 for the stipulated time. the result will be the amount necessary to invest at the end of each year. if the amount is to be invested at the beginning of the year, divide the result obtained as above by the amount of $1.00 for one year. _example._ to provide for payment of $50,000.00 at the end of 15 years, what amount must be put into a sinking fund at the end of each year, if the fund is invested to earn 3% compound interest? interest on $50,000.00 for 1 year at 3% is $1,500.00. compound interest on $1.00 for 15 years at 3% is .55797. dividing $1,500.00 by .55797 gives $2,688.32, the amount necessary to put into the fund annually. if this amount is to be invested at the beginning of each year, divide the above result ($2,688.32) by $1.03 (the amount of $1.00 for one year at 3%) and we obtain $2,610.02 the amount needed. bonds =48.= in the sense here used a _bond_ is the written obligation of a corporation to pay a certain amount at a specified future date. bonds are usually secured by a mortgage on all or a part of the property of the corporation. a bond issue is a favorite method of borrowing money with corporations. bonds can be issued in any denomination, and by reason of this a loan can be distributed among a large number of investors. being secured by mortgage on the company's property the bonds of a corporation are very frequently more desirable investments than its stocks. interest on bonds must be paid before dividends can be declared. bonds can only be issued with the consent of the holders of a certain per cent of the stock. =49.= _classes of bonds._ the bonds of corporations are of several classes, as follows: a first mortgage bond is one secured by first mortgage on the company's property. a second mortgage bond is one secured by second mortgage. interest cannot be paid on second mortgage bonds until it has been paid on the first mortgage bonds. general mortgage bonds are those secured by a general mortgage on all of the company's property. collateral bonds are secured by the deposit of collateral security. a debenture is a bond with no other security than the good name of the company. refunding bonds are those issued in place of maturing bonds which the company does not wish to pay in cash. equipment bonds are those secured by the rolling stock of a railway, and are also known as car trust certificates. a gold bond is any form of bond, the terms of which specify that it shall be paid in gold. registered bonds are those, the names of the owners of which must be registered on the books of the company. ownership of a registered bond can be transferred only on the books of the company. =50. bond liability.= when bonds are issued by a corporation, either public or private, an account is opened under some such caption as _bond issue_ or _bonds payable_. as fast as bonds are sold the proceeds are credited to this account, which represents a liability. a new account should be opened for each issue of bonds. the bonds of a given issue will all bear the same date, with interest payable from that date. we will suppose that a corporation issues its bonds for $100,000.00 in denominations of $1,000.00 each. these bonds are dated feb. 1st, and bear interest at 5 per cent payable annually. they are payable at the end of 10 years from date. the company agrees to maintain a sinking fund of an amount sufficient to pay the bonds at maturity if invested in securities drawing 4 per cent interest, and to invest the fund in such securities which are to be placed in the hands of a trustee. during the first year bonds are sold in the amounts and under the conditions which follow: _first._ on the date of issue $10,000.00 of these bonds are sold at par. _second._ at the end of three months $10,000.00 of the bonds are sold at 101 and accrued interest, yielding $10,225.00 of which $10,000.00 is principal, $100.00 premium, and $125.00 interest. _third._ the next sale is $10,000.00 of the bonds at 98, interest accrued $250.00, yielding $10,050.00 made up of principal $10,000.00, less discount $200.00, and interest $250.00. [illustration: ledger accounts of a bond issue] =51. premium on bonds.= when bonds are sold at a price above par, the premium should be credited to a _premium on bonds_ account. when sold below par, the discount may be charged to the same account. =52. interest on bonds.= the interest paid on bonds may be charged to an _interest on bonds_ account, which keeps it separate from the regular interest account. when bonds are sold with accrued interest, which is paid by the purchaser, the accrued interest is credited to interest on bonds. =53. expense of bond issue.= all expenses incurred in the issue and sale of bonds should be charged to _expense of bond issue_ account. the account can be closed into profit and loss immediately, or it is proper to spread it over the life of the bonds, charging off the proper amount each year. it is also considered proper to charge discount on bonds to this account. =54.= continuing the example in art. 50, we find that the amount of bonds outstanding is $30,000.00, and a sinking fund must be established which will equal this amount when the bonds mature. following the rule in art. 38, we divide the interest on $30,000.00 for one year at 4 per cent ($1,200.00) by the compound interest on $1.00 for 10 years at 4 = (.48024) obtaining as a result $2,498.75, the amount necessary to be invested at the end of each year. this amount must be provided each year for permanent investment to meet the principal and an additional $1,500.00 must be provided each year for interest. the entries which follow are the ones necessary to record the sales shown in art. 50. --feb. 1- cash $10,000.00 bond issue $10,000.00 ------- --may 1- cash 10,225.00 bond issue 10,000.00 premium on bonds 100.00 interest on bonds 125.00 ------- --aug. 1- cash 10,050.00 expense of bond issue (discount) 200.00 bond issue 10,000.00 interest on bonds 250.00 at the end of the year when the interest is paid and the first installment of the sinking fund is set aside, these entries are made: --january 31- interest on bonds 1,500.00 cash 1,500.00 ------- sinking fund 2,498.75 cash 2,498.75 the illustrations (page 240) show the status of all of these ledger accounts at the end of the year. manufacturing and cost accounts =55.= manufacturing began in this country many years ago and was for a long time confined to the eastern and new england states. encouraged and fostered by national, state, and local governments, and by discoveries of sources of supplies, it has extended to all parts of the country. manufacturing has grown to proportions which place it at the very head of our industries, if we except agriculture, the growth of which has been largely influenced by the progress in manufactures. one result is that the business of manufacturing has perhaps more than any other, attracted capital from great numbers of investors, large and small. owing to its very nature, manufacturing readily lends itself to the corporate form of organization, and it is for manufacturing that a very great number of corporations have been formed. manufacturing has, therefore, been selected for a more complete exposition of corporation accounting. the accounts of a manufacturing business are to a certain extent peculiar to itself. regardless of the nature of the product, there are certain underlying principles which should govern the devising of a system of accounts for a manufacturing business. perhaps the most important feature to be kept in mind is to so arrange the system that the cost of manufacturing the goods will be shown. correct cost accounting methods are of greater importance to the manufacturer than the method of keeping accounts with his customers. he cannot afford to wait until the end of the year for results; he must know what his goods cost him if he is to intelligently make selling prices. there are so many opportunities for fluctuations in manufacturing costs that the accounts must at least show approximate results at all times. cost accounting is a profession in itself, and it is not our purpose to discuss, in this paper, all of the details of collecting data in the factory and shop. the purpose of this paper is to show the accounts with which a bookkeeper for a manufacturing business should become familiar. even when a manufacturer does not maintain a complete cost accounting system the bookkeeper can produce some valuable statistics by a proper arrangement of the accounts. accounts used =56.= for the purpose of illustration we have selected a representative schedule of the accounts of a manufacturing business. the following accounts are those which have a direct bearing on the manufacturing branch of a business and do not include the administrative and selling branches. factory assets 1. _real estate._ includes the cost of land and factory buildings. 2. _machinery._ charged with the cost of all machinery including total cost of installation. freight, cartage, and cost of erecting the machine ready for use should be included. 3. _patterns and tools._ charged through cash and purchase book for all patterns and tools purchased. charged through cash book and journal--with proper credit to material and labor accounts--if manufactured in the factory. 4. _material purchases._ charged through purchase and cash books for all purchases of material that enters into the product. cost includes charges for delivery. credited for all material used in the factory. this may be subdivided into several accounts to represent the different classes of material used--as iron, steel, lumber, leather, hardware, etc. 5. _supplies purchases._ charged through purchase and cash books for all purchases of factory supplies, like oil, waste, belt lacing, and similar items. credited for all supplies used in the factory. 6. _finished goods._ charged for all goods finished, usually at cost of manufacture. sometimes a small factory profit is added. this account represents a purchase account to the commercial department, as it represents the cost of goods to them, factory expenses 7. _salaries._ charged for salaries of superintendent, assistant superintendent, and factory clerks. 8. _labor._ charged through cash and pay roll books for the amount of all factory pay-rolls. 9. _experimental._ charged through cash and pay-roll books and journal for all labor and material used in experimental work carried on for the purpose of improving the product. 10. _general factory expense._ charged through cash and purchase books for cost of miscellaneous factory expense items not otherwise accounted for. 11. _power, heat, and light._ charged for fuel, oils, water, wages of engineer and firemen, electricity (when purchased), and all other items entering into their cost. 12. _building maintenance and repairs._ charged through cash and purchase books for materials purchased specially for repairs to buildings. charged through journal and pay-roll book for labor and materials or supplies consumed in maintenance and repairs to buildings. 13. _repairs to machinery._ treated the same as no. 12. 14. _repairs to patterns and tools._ treated the same as no. 13. 15. _insurance._ charged through cash book for all premiums paid for insurance on buildings and contents. 16. _taxes._ charged for all state, county, and city taxes. 17. _depreciation of buildings._ an amount charged off each year to cover depreciation. 18. _depreciation of machinery._ treated the same as no. 17. depreciation based on estimated life of machine. 19. _depreciation of patterns and tools._ treated the same as no. 18. summary accounts 20. _manufacturing account._ charged for cost of labor and material consumed in manufacture of goods; charged for proper proportion of all expense accounts; credited with cost of all finished goods. balance represents cost of all goods in process. collecting cost statistics =57. routine followed.= the notes following the names of the accounts in the above schedule explain their purpose and show clearly how charges are made direct to the expense accounts. further explanations are necessary in regard to charges and credits to manufacturing account. labor is easily disposed of as the amount standing to the debit of labor account at the end of the month is transferred to the debit of manufacturing account, closing labor account. material charges are more difficult to handle. in all well-regulated factories all material is as carefully accounted for as cash. proper storage rooms are provided in which all material is stored. these rooms are placed in charge of a man known as stockkeeper or stores clerk, and no one is allowed to take material from the storerooms without first presenting a written order, signed by the foreman, showing for what purpose the material is to be used. this order is retained by the stockkeeper and after he has posted the material to his own records he sends it to the bookkeeper. from these orders, the bookkeeper compiles a record of material withdrawn and, at the end of the month, the amount is debited to manufacturing account and credited to material purchases. the stockkeeper keeps a record of all material received and delivered and the balance of his accounts shows the quantities of the different materials which he should have in stock. his record should agree with the balance of material purchases account. when a stockkeeper is not employed it is necessary to have reports from the factory. the bookkeeper should arrange to obtain daily reports from the foremen showing all materials taken into their departments which are to be used in the manufacture of the regular product. if any of this material is to be used for the manufacture of tools or patterns for use in the factory, or for repairs to tools, patterns, machinery, or buildings, it should be noted on the report with a statement of the exact purpose for which it is intended. from these reports, the bookkeeper will compile his material records which will be credited to material purchases, and charged to manufacturing account and the different repair accounts at the end of the month. supplies are handled the same as materials, except that where this is a small item it is sometimes treated as an expense account. where a considerable value is involved it is preferable to consider it as a subdivision of the material account. the expense accounts must be charged on a percentage basis for the reason that the amounts actually expended vary in different months, and an expense item paid in one month may cover that particular expense for an entire year. such items are insurance premiums and taxes, paid once a year to cover twelve months. other expense items like experimental, power, and repairs are difficult to determine for a single month. it is customary to base the charge for these items on the records for the previous year. the amount of such expenses for a year is divided by twelve and each month one twelfth of the amount is charged to the manufacturing account and credited to the expense account. if there is any discrepancy at the end of the year it is adjusted by a debit or credit to finished goods. reports should be made daily by all foremen showing exactly what partly finished goods are received in their department and the quantity delivered to the next department. a record of these reports should be kept, which will show at all times the quantity of goods in process in each department. reports of finished goods received in the stock room will show the quantity manufactured, or rather finished, during the month. see report form illustrated on page 53. if all goods on which work had been started were finished, the charges to manufacturing account would represent their exact cost, but there is always a certain quantity of goods in various stages of manufacture, and the amount already expended on them must be considered. therefore an inventory is taken of goods in process. great care must be exercised, in taking this inventory, that too high a value is not placed on partly finished goods, for if the valuation is too high the apparent cost of finished goods will be less than actual cost. it is of utmost importance that the cost of manufacture be not understated, for it is on this cost that selling prices will be based. this is one reason why some manufacturers add a small-factory profit. unless a complete system of cost accounting is maintained, this inventory of goods in process must be an estimate, but the record of goods in process in each department will be of considerable assistance in making the estimate. [illustration: daily report of work in process] when the inventory is complete the amount should be deducted from the total debits to manufacturing account, which will show the cost of goods manufactured. this cost should then be credited to manufacturing account and charged to finished goods account. manufacturing account will now show a debit balance representing cost of goods in process. this method will produce very satisfactory results for factories in which but one line of goods is manufactured, but does not supply the information required where several styles, sizes, or lines are made. for one line of goods it is only necessary to divide the total cost by the quantity produced, as pounds, feet, dozen, or gross to find the cost of a single unit. in the more complicated business a detailed cost system would be required. pay-roll records =58.= in connection with the labor account, the manner of keeping the pay-roll record is of considerable importance. like most other forms of record, pay-roll books are made to suit the needs of the individual concern. for a manufacturing business a feature to be kept in mind is such an arrangement as will give the most complete record of the cost of labor in each separate department. where men are never transferred from one department to another during a weekly or monthly pay-roll period, this result would be obtained by a simple grouping of the names by departments. in many manufacturing lines, however, workmen are frequently transferred so that to obtain costs for departments it is necessary to provide special forms for distribution. but why go to the trouble of distributing the pay-roll by departments? that we may more closely watch expenses and costs. the reports which the bookkeeper receives from foremen show quantities of goods passing through each department. if the pay-roll is sectionalized it will enable the bookkeeper to determine the labor cost per unit of goods manufactured in each department. a comparison of these costs from month to month will be of value in showing changes in cost. the form illustrated provides for a business having four departments and paying employes both on piece work and day wage plans. [illustration: pay-roll register for time and piece work] expense inventory =59.= when the books are closed, it usually happens that certain expense accounts show expenditures for items of expense that are not accrued. illustrations are insurance and taxes paid yearly in advance. suppose insurance premiums to the amount of $150.00 are paid on april 1st to cover insurance for one year. if the books are closed july 1st, 9/12 of this amount will have been paid for insurance that we have not received--the premium has not been earned. the inventory will also show unused material which has been charged to such expense accounts as repairs. it is proper to take an inventory of these amounts, treating them as assets in the balance sheet. to properly record all such unearned expenses and make the books agree with the balance sheet, an account should be opened under the title of _expense inventory_, to which these items will be charged, with corresponding credits to the proper expense accounts. after the books have been closed, these items will be changed to the expense accounts, and credited to expense inventory, closing the latter account. expense liability =60.= certain expenses will have accrued which have not been paid. such an item is interest on bills payable, bonds, or mortgages, or taxes due and unpaid. these items should be treated as liabilities in the balance sheet. an account called _expense accrued_ should be opened and credited with these items, with corresponding debits to expense accounts. when the books have been closed, this account is closed by crediting the items to the expense accounts from which they were received. balance ledger 61. a form of ledger now in quite common use is known as the _balance ledger_. the form differs from the standard ledger form in being provided with an extra column in the center in which balances are extended. if the bookkeeper when posting, extends the balance after each item is posted, much time is saved in looking up accounts and in taking trial balances. the nature of the account will usually indicate whether there is a debit or credit balance. accounts in the sales ledger will usually show a debit balance, while one in the purchase ledger will have a credit balance. if the balance is the opposite from what is to be expected it may be indicated by placing the letter _d_ in front of the amount in the balance column for debits, or the letter _c_ after the amount for credits. [illustration: wheel lathe shop in the baldwin locomotive works, philadelphia, penna.] [illustration: center-ruled balance ledger] sample transactions 62. the following transactions exhibit the accounts which are special to a manufacturing business without including the commercial accounts which record sales. the manner of keeping those accounts is the same for a manufacturing business as for any other. being a business conducted by a corporation these accounts include the stock accounts usually kept in the general books. the auxiliary stock books are omitted, it being felt that the special illustrations of such books will have been sufficient to give the student a thorough understanding of their uses. the books required in the manufacturing business, omitting sales accounts, are _invoice register_ or _purchase book_, _cash book_, _journal_, _pay-roll distribution book_, _purchase ledger_, and _general ledger_. a corporation known as the atlas manufacturing co., is organized with an authorized capitalization of $100,000.00, with the provision that business is to begin when $50,000.00 of the stock has been subscribed, and $25,000.00 paid in. the incorporators are henry biddle, john noonan, david snow, henry farwell, and george dunn. each incorporator subscribes for $10,000.00 stock payable one-half down and one-half in 30 days. the detailed record follows: --march 1- received subscriptions to the capital stock, payable one-half down, and one-half in 30 days, from the following. stock is to be issued when paid in full. henry biddle $10,000.00 john noonan 10,000.00 david snow 10,000.00 henry farwell 10,000.00 george dunn 10,000.00 received cash in payment of subscriptions from the following: henry biddle 5,000.00 john noonan 5,000.00 david snow 5,000.00 george dunn 5,000.00 received from henry farwell his note at 30 days with 6% interest in payment of installment on his subscription 5,000.00 ------- deposited cash in second national bank 20,000.00 --2- received from derby desk co. invoice #1, terms n/30 charge to office fixtures 350.00 --3- leased for two years from jacob newman a factory building at an annual rental of $1,800.00, payable quarterly in advance. gave him check no. 1 for 3 months' rent. --4- the following invoices are entered- meyers engine co. invoice no. 2, terms n/30 charge to machinery 1,500.00 --4- patton machine co. invoice no. 3, terms n/30 charge to machinery 3,500.00 --4- danforth & co. invoice no. 4, terms n/30 charge to material 960.00 --5- the following invoices are entered- franklin printing co. invoice no. 5, terms 2/10, n/30 charge to office supplies 165.40 --5- slade oil co. invoice no. 6, terms 3/10, n/30 charge to supplies 54.25 --6- norwich machine co. invoice no. 7, terms n/30 charge to machinery 8,500.00 --6- paid freight by check no. 2 to t. fogarty, agt. machinery 216.20 materials 11.60 227.80 ----- --8- francis & co. invoice no. 8, terms 3/10, n/30 charge to materials 640.00 --9- stevens & co. invoice no. 9, terms 3/10, n/30 charge material 225.00 --9- gave danforth & co. check no. 3 to pay bill of march 2 960.00 less 2% 19.20 940.80 ----- --10- lackawana coal co. invoice no. 10, terms n/30 charge power, heat, & light 185.00 --11- gave franklin printing co. check no. 4. to pay bill of march 4 165.40 less 2% 3.31 162.09 ----- --12- danforth & co. invoice no. 11, terms 2/10, n/30 charge material 315.00 --13- drew check no. 5. for 2 weeks' pay-roll 220.50 charge machinery for cost of installing 178.50 building maintenance for repairs to building per pay-roll distribution 42.00 --15- gave derby desk co. check no. 6 to pay bill of march 1 350.00 --15- gave slade oil co. check no. 7 to pay bill of march 5 54.25 less 3% 1.63 52.62 ----- --17- gave francis & co. check no. 8 to pay bill of march 7 640.00 less 3% 19.20 620.80 ----- --18- gave stevens & co. check no. 9 to pay bill of march 8 225.00 less 3% 6.75 218.25 ----- --19- eureka tool co. invoice no. 12, terms n/30 charge tools 250.00 --20- check no. 10 for 1 week's pay-roll charge labor 326.25 charge tools 27.50 353.75 ----- (making tools for shop per pay-roll distribution) --22- received from danforth & co. credit memo for damaged goods in lot covered by invoice dated 3/12 63.00 credit material gave them check no. 11 for acct. 252.00 less 2% 5.04 246.96 ----- --27- check no. 12 for 1 week's pay-roll $ 342.70 charge labor per pay-roll distribution --30- gave norwich machine co. note of henry farwell 5,000.00 accrued interest 25.00 5,025.00 ----- gave them check no. 13 to pay their account 3,475.00 --31- salaries check no. 14 for salaries of supt. & clerks 350.00 =63. manufacturing data.= the following data has been collected by the bookkeeper from the reports of superintendent and foremen, and from the inventories taken at the end of the month. material issued to factory 1,003.35 material used for building repairs 50.00 _inventories_ supplies 45.00 rent (unexpired) 300.00 power, heat, and light (coal) 150.00 office supplies 140.40 goods in process--material 602.00 labor 400.00 1,002.00 -----we will now close the ledger to ascertain manufacturing results for the month, by making the following adjusting entries in the journal- debit manufacturing account for material issued to factory. debit building maintenance and repairs for material used in repairs. credit material purchases for both of the above. debit manufacturing account for labor account for supplies used--found by deducting inventory from supplies purchases. for salaries account for rent one month for power, heat, and light--found as above for building repairs for office supplies--found as above credit accounts representing above for amounts charged. the manufacturing account will now show, on the debit side the total manufacturing expense for the month. the next step is to find the cost of finished goods to be credited to manufacturing account and charged to finished goods account. our inventory of goods in process, which includes material and labor only, amounts to $1,002.00. the labor account and reports from foremen show that the amount of these items used in the factory is $1,672.30. in round numbers, the former is 60% of the latter, that is, sixty per cent of the work started is still in process. we will assume, therefore, that this is a fair percentage to be used in determining the expense items invested in goods in process. taking 60% of the total manufacturing expense gives $1,400.13, which, deducted from the total, leaves $933.42 as the cost of finished goods. in this case the per cent of goods in process is large for the reason that it is the first month of operation. the results in succeeding months will be more nearly equal. if the factory is running regularly, turning out practically the same quantities each month, the quantity of finished goods will just about equal the work started in any one month. should we wish to show a factory profit of 10%, it will be necessary to add 10% to the cost of finished goods which will then represent the cost to be used by the sales end of the business. since we have no account to which this amount can properly be credited, we will open a new account called _contingent profits_, which will be closed into profit and loss at the end of the year. since we are not closing the books for the purpose of making a balance sheet, we do not close the expense accounts into an expense inventory account as explained in article 59. instead, the balances are allowed to stand until such time as the books are finally closed. [illustration: invoice register with distribution columns.] [illustration: invoice register with distribution columns] [illustration: check and disbursement record] [illustration: manufacturing journal] [illustration: manufacturing journal] [illustration: manufacturing general ledger] [illustration: manufacturing general ledger] [illustration: manufacturing general ledger] [illustration: manufacturing general ledger] [illustration: purchase ledger] [illustration: purchase ledger] [illustration: general ledger trial balance] [illustration: purchase ledger statement] exercise the transactions given in this exercise are a continuation of the business referred in to the preceding articles. during the month of april the following transactions are recorded. material purchases $2,670.00 supplies purchases 127.50 patterns and tools purchases 150.00 cash received on subscriptions 25,000.00 deposited in bank 25,000.00 checks drawn purchase accounts 5,500.00 salaries 375.00 pay-rolls 1,670.20 distributed as follows: labor $1,652.70 machinery repairs 17.50 david snow 10,000.00 (stock purchased at par by company) the following data is obtained from the reports of foremen and inventories taken at the end of the month: material issued to factory to be used in manufacturing goods. 2,261.00 material used in machinery repairs 16.70 inventories, april 30 supplies 147.00 rent (unexpired) 150.00 power, heat, and light (coal) 75.00 office supplies 118.40 goods in process--material 615.00 labor 410.00 1,025.00 -----1. find value of goods in process, using the same percentages in estimating expense items as shown for material and labor. 2. make journal entries closing accounts into manufacturing account to show cost of goods completed during the month. note:--to find total cost of material and labor, used and partly used, add to the amounts shown for one month the inventory of the same items at end of preceding month. 3. make trial balance of general ledger after books are closed as shown in model set. [illustration: general offices of the a. b. dick company, chicago, ill.] the voucher system and accounting charts voucher system of accounting 1. _voucher._ a document which vouches the truth of accounts. _receipt._ an acknowledgment of money paid. the voucher system is sometimes referred to as a modern system of accounting, but a study of the above standard definitions indicates that it is modern only in respect to forms of records and routine. in the nomenclature of accounting the term voucher is quite commonly used in the same sense as the term receipt. the only distinction appears to be that a voucher is usually understood to be an acknowledgment of the payment of a particular item on account, while a receipt may be an acknowledgment of the payment of money without reference to the item or items covered. since the transaction of business began receipts or vouchers in some form have undoubtedly been used. some form of acknowledgment of money paid has always occupied a place in business. but at first, receipts were not required--they were incidental; given as a matter of courtesy; a "thank you" in written form. when the first man, after paying his grocery bill, was forced to pay it a second time because the merchant had failed to mark his account "paid," he _demanded_ a receipt. he learned then and there that accounts, and those who keep them, are not infallible. he told his neighbors, and the custom of demanding receipts for money paid, came into being. the receipt was demanded as a matter of self-protection, to prevent the possibility of payment of an amount being successfully demanded a second time. but the receipt was not an integral part of the accounting records of a business; it might or might not be demanded without affecting the records. so long as business was conducted by single proprietors or small partnerships, this was satisfactory, since the receipt was not required as a record between partners. with the advent of joint-stock companies and corporations, came ownership by a large number of investors. having their capital invested, these owners had a right to know what was being done with their property, and there came a demand for a more strict accounting of money and property entrusted to the care of the managers of the business. as business expanded and corporations grew in size and power, with wider spheres of activity, it became necessary to divide the operations of business concerns into departments, with corresponding divisions of authority. this meant the creation of a central authority to whom an accounting must be made by the departments or branches. audits were introduced. not only did stockholders want to know that the business was honestly conducted, but the managers demanded proof that property entrusted to subordinates was accounted for and that the accounts were accurate--that is, truthful. not satisfied with the evidence offered by entries in account books, auditors asked for further proof of the payments recorded; they demanded receipts, _vouchers_. the voucher as used in modern accounting practice is then something more than a receipt for the payment of money; it is a proof that property has been administered as claimed by the accounting records. "a document which vouches the truth of accounts," =2. use of vouchers.= the most general use of the voucher still is as an acknowledgment of the payment of money. in fact, when we speak of a voucher it is usually understood to mean a receipt or acknowledgment of the payment of money for a specific purpose. a voucher states the exact purpose for which the money is paid, the items either being listed or reference made to a specific invoice or account. then when receipted it becomes a voucher in fact and takes its place as an integral part of the accounting records. the voucher may be said to form a connecting link, furnishing proof that the money was expended as shown in the records and that it was received by the payee. in this respect it acts as a check against a misappropriation of funds. as the system of vouchers for payment of money came into more general use, many accountants argued that it should be carried still further. sales records were vouchered by original orders, shipping receipts, and invoice copies, and purchases by the regular vouchers, but there was no voucher for transactions involving transfers of values from one account to another. in making journal entries involving such transfers, many opportunities for fraud were opened. just such entries have been frequently used to cover up fraudulent transactions. the logical step to make the voucher system complete in every detail was the introduction of the journal voucher. if a voucher is provided for each journal entry, the bookkeeper can produce authority for every transaction recorded in his books. the journal voucher is a voucher of authority, that is, it authorizes the entry involved and must be signed by an officer having power to make such authorization. to the bookkeeper, it is in many cases a protection, for if a question arises as to the legality of a transaction, he can produce his authority for the entry, which will place the responsibility where it belongs. we have come in contact with cases in which the bookkeeper, following the explicit instructions of an officer of a company, has made entries clearly intended to defraud either creditors or stockholders, only to be later made the "scapegoat" and held jointly responsible with his superior officer. not all such entries show their clear intent, though their real purpose be fraudulent. some of them are so ingenuous and supported by such plausible explanations, that the bookkeeper has no suspicion of their real nature. a case in point: a corporation was organized in a small town to engage in a manufacturing enterprise. like many another corporation of similar character, the benefits which would accrue to the town, were dwelt upon at length by the promoters, and citizens were induced to invest their savings in small blocks of stock. also, like many another enterprise entered into and managed by men with no technical training, this little factory struggled along for a few years, always operated at a loss. but a change came; an experienced manager was secured and the business began to exhibit symptoms of a healthy growth. the second year showed a profit; almost enough to wipe out the deficit. the third year the business outgrew the capacity of the plant, and $20,000.00 was invested in new machinery. not an old machine was discarded. the manager instructed the bookkeeper to charge $15,000.00 of the amount to repairs, explaining that it would off-set the amount which should have been charged off as depreciation in former years. perhaps,--but it made the books show a small loss instead of a substantial profit for the year. and it is significant that several holders of stock, worth face value, and more, sold their holdings to the manager at an average price of .65. if no profit could be made on such a volume of business as had been transacted that year, what hope for the future? [illustration: fig. 1. voucher to be receipted and returned] to what extent a bookkeeper is justified in presuming to conserve the morals of his employer, is not a subject for present discussion. just where the line should be drawn between moral and legal responsibility, is sometimes difficult to determine. but that bookkeeper innocently assisted in robbing unsuspecting stockholders. had he insisted on the signed authority of the manager--that is, demanded a voucher--the entry might never have been made; he, at least, would have been freed from any possible charge of complicity. =3. forms of vouchers.= the essential feature of a voucher is that it must show clearly the purpose for which it is drawn, and provide a proper form of receipt. there are many forms of vouchers designed to meet the requirements of different businesses. [illustration: fig. 2. back of voucher showing distribution] the most simple form of voucher is a statement of items paid, with a receipt to be signed by the payee. a remittance in the form of cash or a check accompanies the voucher, the receipted voucher being returned by the payee. a form of voucher of this class is shown in fig. 1. the items paid can be listed on the voucher, or there may be a reference to certain invoices included in the payment. some accountants attach the original invoice to the voucher, but for certain reasons we do not advocate this practice. until the receipted voucher is returned there is no record of the items covered, unless the invoice has been copied. [illustration: fig. 3. combined voucher and check used by the pennsylvania railroad company] some houses are slow in returning receipted invoices, resulting in many annoying delays. if the invoice is kept on file we at least have a record of the transaction, and it may be very necessary to refer to the invoice for prices or other information. the back of the voucher is usually printed with a form for a distribution of the amount to the account or accounts to which it should be charged. a typical form is shown in fig. 2. for permanent filing a voucher of this style is folded so that the number appears at the top, followed by the name of the payee, and the distribution record. =4. voucher checks.= a step in advance of the early form of voucher with separate check is the voucher check. this is a form which combines the voucher and check. of voucher checks there are many forms, each designed to meet some special condition, or to conform with the ideas of the accountant. while these forms exhibit many variations in detail they may be divided into two general classes: folded voucher checks and single voucher checks. the folded voucher check is usually twice the width of an ordinary check, making it regular check size when folded. this is intended to provide a receipt for the payment of items listed, by the endorsement of the check. several such forms are illustrated. fig. 3 is a form of combined voucher and check used by the pennsylvania railroad company, the account is transcribed on _a_, this being a sheet twice the width of a check. this form is made in duplicate, _b_ being the carbon copy which is filed as a record of authority for the issuance of the voucher. the check itself, shown in _c_, is written on the back of the original voucher. _a_. when folded, this form is the size of a regular check and goes through the bank in the usual manner. the endorsement of the payee is a receipt in full for the items covered by the voucher. this is a representative form of the folded voucher check. naturally the details recorded will vary in different businesses, but the general plan is subject to slight changes. some objection is raised by banks to the folded form. the claim is made that considerable inconvenience is caused in handling in the bank, by checks slipping between the folds. many of the earlier forms of voucher checks were not checks until certain conditions had been complied with. on the face of the voucher was printed "when properly receipted this voucher will be paid through ... bank." this required a receipt in some special place, instead of the usual endorsement of a check, and it was not always easy to tell, at a glance, the amount to be paid. very naturally, objections were raised by the banks against the use of these complicated forms, but forms have been simplified in ways that have largely overcome these objections. [illustration: fig. 4. form of voucher check that requires no folding] an improvement is the ordinary check form arranged to provide a valid receipt for stated items. such a form is illustrated in fig. 4. this is an ordinary check form of regulation size, on which is noted the item or items paid. the checks are put up in pads and numbered as used. when endorsed, the check provides a valid receipt for the items covered. [illustration: fig. 5. duplicate voucher check in loose leaf form] [illustration: fig. 6. voucher distribution sheet] a voucher check with some advantageous features is shown in fig. 5. this is made in duplicate. _a_ is the original voucher check, while _b_ is the duplicate. when sent out, the stub shown in _b_, a duplicate of the statement on the original check, is attached to the check. this is detached by the payee for his records, and enables him to deposit the check without waiting to make the entry in his cash book. these voucher checks are made in sheets and punched for filing in a loose-leaf binder. the balance of the form shown in _b_, the part remaining after the check and duplicate statement have been removed, is a copy of the check, and remains in the binder. the checks are numbered consecutively, but the voucher number is entered when used and corresponds with the number of the voucher paid. the office record of the items paid is made on the voucher form shown in fig. 6. these are numbered consecutively, in the order in which they are approved, and when paid are filed in numerical sequence. another style of loose-sheet voucher check is illustrated in fig. 7. this form is made on the typewriter, in triplicate, and includes the original check, a receipt and a copy of the check. the forms are made two to a sheet, and when a check is to be written the triplicate sheet is placed in the machine, three copies being made at one writing. [illustration: fig. 7. triplicate form of voucher check that provides a receipt and a copy of the check] [illustration: plant of the w. l. gilbert clock co. at winsted, conn.] the triplicate form, or copy of the check, is the permanent record from which posting is done. both the check and receipt are mailed and the payee is expected to return the receipt. if not returned within a reasonable time, the payee is followed up by letter and asked to return the receipt, as this becomes a part of the permanent office records. [illustration: fig. 8. duplicate voucher with check attached] an excellent form of voucher with check attached is shown in fig. 8. the voucher is made in duplicate, the check being attached to the original. the duplicate is kept on file for the office record, while the original, with check attached, is mailed to the vendor. he detaches the check and deposits it, keeping the original statement in his files. in the event of discrepancies, the vendor is expected to return both voucher and check, endorsement being considered as a receipt in full for items included in the statement. =5. journal vouchers.= as previously explained, a journal voucher is a properly signed authorization of a journal entry. journal vouchers are not intended to be used for the ordinary journal entries of a business, as closing entries and ordinary adjusting entries. they are more particularly intended for special credit items or allowances, and special transfer or adjusting entries. fig. 9 illustrates a convenient form of journal voucher. this form is intended to be filed in a loose-leaf binder, and when so filed, becomes the journal itself, posting being made direct to ledger accounts. the usual method, however, is to make the entry in the journal and file this voucher as an evidence of authority. a journal voucher should require the final approval of some one man before it becomes valid. the head of a business can keep in touch with all special allowances by having the journal vouchers brought to him for his signature. [illustration: fig. 9. journal voucher for adjusting entries] one reason for the use of journal vouchers in large establishments having several departments is that special credits and allowances are constantly coming up, with which only one department manager is familiar. his o. k. is obtained, and the voucher must be approved by the manager, which makes these men responsible for the transaction. =6. the voucher register.= though the form of voucher is of considerable importance, and should be designed to meet the requirements of the business, the keystone of the voucher system of accounting is the voucher register. wherever used, the voucher register possesses certain uniform characteristics, but in each business the form takes on special features; in fact, the voucher register is distinctively a special form. the voucher register is really a form of purchase book, with other features added, and takes the place of these records. in addition to the usual features of the purchase book or invoice register, the voucher register furnishes a complete record of payment of bills, and shows at all times the net amount of accounts payable. another most important feature is that it exhibits all expenditures, for whatever purpose. a voucher is provided and properly registered for every check issued, insuring a receipt in proper form for every dollar paid out. when properly handled, the voucher system does away with the purchase ledger, no ledger accounts with creditors being necessary. the register in connection with a file of unpaid vouchers, furnished a complete record of each individual creditor's account. at the same time, a controlling account is provided, which exhibits the total of outstanding accounts, and balances with the voucher register. to furnish representative illustrations, we show several forms of voucher registers, which exhibit the special features usually found in such records. these may be used as guides in designing registers for any business. figs. 10 and 11 show forms identical in general arrangement, except that one is designed for a mercantile business, while the other is intended for a manufacturing establishment. the columns beginning at the extreme left are as follows: _date entered_, _voucher number_, _name of payee_ and nature of account, _date of invoice_, _vouchers payable_ (the total), and _date due_. the columns following are for distribution of the total to the different accounts. columns are provided for those accounts in each group to which most frequent charges are made. the amounts of the vouchers are extended in these columns and footings carried forward to the end of the month. in every business there are certain expense accounts to which charges are infrequent, not more than one charge a month, and in some cases one or two in a year. examples of these accounts are insurance, taxes, rent, etc. to add columns to an already large voucher register for the accommodation of these few items is impractical, hence the sundries column is provided for charges to accounts for which special columns are not provided. space is allowed for entering the names of the accounts, and each item is posted direct to the ledger account. [illustration: fig. 10] [illustration: fig. 11] [illustration: fig. 12] [illustration: fig. 13] typical forms of voucher registers [illustration: designed for use in different businesses] the form of voucher register illustrated in fig. 12 is designed for use where a complete voucher system, including the use of journal vouchers, is maintained. the special feature of this form is the addition of several columns for credit accounts. space is provided for entering the names of the accounts to be credited, the amounts being carried to the proper ledger columns. this makes it possible to enter any journal voucher, and since full particulars are shown in the voucher itself, no explanations are required in the register. at the right of these forms are columns for recording particulars of settlement. a column headed _unpaid vouchers_ will also be noted. on the last day of the month, when all items have been entered, the amounts of all unpaid vouchers are extended in this column, and the total is carried forward to the next month's sheet, where it is entered in the _vouchers payable_ column. when these vouchers are paid, particulars of payment are entered on the sheets containing the original record; as would have been done if they were paid in the month in which they were entered. the footings of all columns are carried forward to the end of the month, when the totals of all distribution columns, excepting sundries, are posted to the debit of the corresponding ledger accounts. the footing of the _vouchers payable_ column, less unpaid amount brought forward, must agree with the total footings of all distribution columns, since it represents the total of all vouchers registered. the net amount, that is, the footing of the _vouchers payable_ column, less the amount of unpaid vouchers brought forward, is posted to the credit of a vouchers payable account. on the credit side of the cash book, two columns headed _vouchers payable_ are provided for the entry of payments. one column is headed discount and the other _amount of check_, the discount column being a memorandum only. at the end of the month the total of these columns is posted to the debit of the vouchers payable account, the controlling account of the voucher register. when the footing of _unpaid vouchers_ is brought forward at the end of the month, it should agree with the balance of the vouchers payable account. another method of handling unpaid vouchers is to provide both _debit_ and _credit_ columns on the voucher register, headed _suspense accounts_, as shown in fig. 13. all unpaid vouchers are carried to the credit column at the end of the month, and when paid the entry is made in the debit column. footings of the suspense columns are carried forward in pencil, for, when all amounts on one sheet have been paid, those items need not be considered in obtaining the balance. one advantage claimed for this method is that it keeps the _vouchers payable_ column free of all but current items. another feature of this form, fig. 13, is the absence of a check number in the _payment_ column. in this case, a voucher check is used, which necessitates but one series of numbers. when bills are audited, the voucher checks are made out and numbered, but the dates are omitted until payment is made, when they are entered with other particulars under the head of _payments_. an objection is sometimes made that with the voucher system, allowing but one line to an invoice, no provision is made for partial payments. this can be easily overcome with this form of register. any unpaid balance of a current item will be carried to the _suspense_ column. if further partial payments are likely to be made, the amount should be entered in the _credit_ column and the name of the payee in the _remarks_ column. several lines should then be allowed for the account, permitting the entry of as many separate payments. when all bills are paid as soon as audited, taking advantage of cash discounts, there is no necessity for columns intended to care for suspense items. all vouchers will be paid not later than during the month next following the date of entry, and there will be no unpaid vouchers not found on the current or next preceding month's record. =7. operation of voucher system.= while accountants have introduced many details into the operation of the voucher system, all intended to make the application of the system more nearly perfect in some particular business, the general routine of conducting the system is summed up in the following: 1. auditing of invoices. 2. executing and registering vouchers. 3. filing audited vouchers. 4. paying vouchers. 5. filing paid vouchers. 6. indexing paid vouchers. =8. auditing of invoices.= when invoices are received they should immediately go to the purchasing agent. if there is no regularly appointed purchasing agent, or in a business like a department store where there are several buyers, the invoices should be kept by the auditor, comptroller, or chief accountant until the goods are received, when he will obtain the o. k. of the person who ordered the goods or incurred the obligation. pending the receipt of the goods, the invoices should be filed alphabetically, under the name of the vendor. the file may be one of the flat files which can be kept on the desk or if the number of invoices be large, a section of a vertical file drawer can be used. when the goods have been received, which will be attested by a report in some form by the receiving clerk, the invoice is o. k.'d for quantities and prices by the buyer, and extensions are checked by the auditor or chief accountant. =9. executing and registering vouchers.= as soon as the invoices are audited, vouchers are executed and entered in the invoice register. extensions are made to the proper columns, placing the accounts on the books, just as would be done if invoices were credited to accounts of the vendors in the general or purchase ledgers. vouchers should never be made for invoices in dispute, as to prices or on account of claims for shortage, damaged goods or other cause. until such claims are adjusted, the invoices should be kept in a file reserved for items in suspense. when the books are closed, such items must be included under liabilities in the balance sheet. to avoid actually entering them on the books, they may be entered in the balance sheet under some such caption as "_suspense accounts_." =10. filing audited vouchers.= the vouchers are now ready for filing until date of payment. this does not apply if invoices are always paid as soon as audited, but in the majority of business houses at least a part of the vouchers will not be paid until the last due date; or if discounts are taken, they will be paid on the last discount date. some provision must be made for bringing these vouchers to notice on the date at which they should be paid. for this purpose, a "tickler" or date file is used. this consists of a file with an index of 31 numbered index sheets, intended to represent the days of the month, and sometimes a set of twelve index sheets printed with the names of the months. the audited vouchers are filed under the date when payment is to be made, either the discount date or the last due date, by placing them back of the index sheet bearing the corresponding number. to illustrate; if an invoice is dated the 2nd of the month, and terms are 2/10, the last discount day will be the 12th, and the voucher will be filed back of the no. 12 index sheet. if payment is due in a subsequent month, the voucher is filed back of the corresponding monthly index, then on the first of the month these vouchers are distributed under the proper dates. =11. paying vouchers.= each day the vouchers filed back of that day's index are removed from the file for attention. if for any reason they are not to be paid that day, they should be filed under the next date when it is desired to bring them to notice. it may be well to note at this point that the vouchers and invoices are usually filed together in the date file. the check is now written and entered in the cash book or the check register, attached to the voucher, and mailed. or if a voucher check is used it is only necessary to date and enter. these payments are posted from the cash book to the voucher register. it is not a safe plan to enter the voucher check direct in the voucher register, as postings to the cash book are liable to be overlooked. payments in one day may be recorded on widely separated pages of the voucher register, while in the cash book or check register they would be entered consecutively, making posting much less difficult. when the voucher and check have been mailed the invoices are placed in a temporary file, indexed alphabetically, where they are kept until the return of the receipted voucher. it will be noted that we do not advocate mailing the original invoice with the voucher. this temporary file is examined from time to time, and if any vouchers have been out an unreasonable length of time, the vendors are asked to sign and return them, or sign duplicates sent for the purpose. when the voucher check is used, the temporary file for invoices is not required. the checks, if cashed, must be returned through the bank, and the invoices can be filed permanently. =12. filing paid vouchers.= on the return of the voucher, properly receipted, the invoices which it pays are removed from the temporary file, when all are ready for permanent filing. the invoices are permanently filed in an alphabetically indexed file, under the names of the vendors, keeping all invoices from each firm together. at some time before filing, preferably when the voucher is executed, the voucher number should be entered on the invoice, and when several invoices are paid by one check, they should be fastened together with a staple or other suitable device. the paid vouchers should be filed in numerical sequence, with indexes numbered by 100's and 20's to separate them and to assist in locating any desired number. if we want to find voucher no. 964, we turn to the index 900, constituting the main division, then to index 60, back of which the desired voucher will be quickly located. a file should be procured of suitable size to accommodate the voucher to be filed. [illustration: fig. 14. card index of vouchers paid] =13. indexing vouchers.= with the permanent filing of the paid voucher the transaction is closed, with one exception. there must be another index to the voucher file. knowing the number, we can quickly locate any voucher or find its record on the register, but if we want to locate the voucher paid to jackson & co.--without knowing the number--we have no guide. reference to the original invoices, filed alphabetically, on which the numbers are noted, will locate the voucher, but there are vouchers for which no invoices are on file. to locate these by name of payee, an alphabetical index is necessary, and it is advisable to include all vouchers even when invoices are on file. for this purpose, a card index is recommended, and a suitable form is shown in fig. 14. a card is used for each person or firm to whom vouchers are issued, and all vouchers are listed by date and number. the cards are filed alphabetically, making it easy to find any name. =14. voucher file.= the manner of filing and indexing invoices and vouchers, from the receipt of the invoices to the permanent filing of the paid voucher, has been explained. for the file itself, the vertical file is recommended. [illustration: fig. 15. file showing method of indexing vouchers] fig. 15 illustrates one drawer of a vertical file, subdivided with the different indexes required, showing how in a small business a single drawer can be made to answer all purposes. in a large business several drawers would be required. the first drawer would be for pending invoices, where would be filed invoices for which shipments have not been received. the second drawer would contain audited vouchers held for payment, and suspense items; the latter including invoices held for adjustment of claims. paid invoices and paid vouchers would each require a separate drawer. files should be selected with reference to the size of the papers to be filed. manufacturers of such equipment now supply cabinets in sections, in a great variety of sizes, making it possible to build up a filing cabinet with drawers to fit every paper of standard size. demonstration =15.= the operation of the voucher system in respect to the records in the register is demonstrated in the illustration, fig. 16, the record showing how the following transactions are handled. invoices listed have been audited for payment. [illustration: fig. 16. voucher register showing entries] --jan. 12th- national mercantile co. 100 bbls. flour $4.25 $425.00 dated jan. 9th terms 2/10, n/30 --jan. 12th- western grocer co. 50 cases soap 2.10 105.00 dated jan. 8th terms 2/10, n/30 --jan. 14th- morton salt co. 100 bbls. salt .85 85.00 dated jan. 11th terms 1/10, n/30 --jan. 15th- paid voucher no. 1 to national mercantile co. --jan. 15th- paid voucher no. 2 to western grocer co. --jan. 16th- watson & snow 60 bbls. vinegar, 3000 gals. .14 420.00 dated jan. 12th terms n/30 --jan. 17th- jennings coal co. 3 tons coal 6.50 19.50 dated jan. 17th terms n/30 --jan. 18th- paid pay roll wages of laborers 125.50 office salaries 37.50 --jan. 19th- paid voucher no. 3 to morton salt co. the illustration, fig. 16, shows the complete record of these transactions in the voucher register. the total footings of all distribution columns agree with the total of vouchers payable column, proving the extensions to be correct. the combined totals of checks and discounts equal the total payment column. unpaid vouchers are extended, and the total of this column added to the total payments equals the total of vouchers payable. [illustration: fig. 17. cash disbursement book] our voucher register being in balance, footings are now posted. the total of _vouchers payable_ column is posted to the credit of that account in the general or private ledger, and the footings of the distribution columns are posted to the debit of their respective accounts. fig. 17 illustrates how the payments are recorded on the disbursement or credit side of the cash book. when the checks are written they are entered in the cash book, from which they are posted to the voucher register. voucher numbers are entered when the amounts are posted. at the end of the month the columns are footed, and the totals of the discount and check columns are posted to the debit of vouchers payable. footings of _discount_ and _total_ columns are posted to the credit of discount on purchases and bank accounts. the vouchers payable account in the ledger would now appear as follows: _vouchers payable_ dr. cr. balance $777.00 $1,216.50 $439.50 we have already seen that the voucher register balances, and turning to that record, we find the footing of the unpaid vouchers column to be $439.50, which agrees with the balance of vouchers payable account. exercise prepare a form of voucher register providing for distribution to the following accounts: merchandise, purchases, in-freight, expense, salaries, and sundries. one of the chief requisites of the accountant is the ability to prepare suitable forms for accounting records. care should be used in preparing this form to omit no detail that should be included in such a voucher register. when the register has been prepared, record the following transactions. --feb. 12th- enter the following invoices #1 jones & laughlin for merchandise $164.20 date 2/10, terms 2/10, n/30. #2 francis & roberts for expense date 2/12, terms cash 27.50 --feb. 13th- #3 david nelson & sons for merchandise 239.80 date 2/11, terms 3/10, n/30 paid henry meyer for salary 25.00 check #1 --feb. 14th- paid jones & laughlin by check #2, voucher #1 less cash discount --feb. 15th- paid francis & roberts by check #3, voucher #2 less cash discount --feb. 16th- paid david newman for rent 40.00 check #4 --feb. 17th- enter the following invoices #4 national furniture co. for office furniture 65.00 date 2/16, terms 2/10, n/30 #5 watkins & hollister for merchandise 84.00 date 2/15, terms 2/10, n/30 --feb. 19th- paid david gillette, agt. for in-freight 9.62 check #5 foot all columns as for posting at end of the month. unit system of voucher accounting =16.= in all classes of accounting records, the unit system is rapidly gaining in popularity. the unit system, so called, consists of individual records of each transaction or each item recorded, instead of a combination of several transactions in one record. the increase in the use of the unit system has been brought about very largely by the improvements in typewriters, which make it possible to produce several copies of a given document at one writing. an example of the application of the unit idea is seen in modern sales records, where duplicate invoices are made, one copy serving as a sales sheet and posting medium. [illustration: a view in the general offices of the s. obermayer co., cincinnati, ohio] the unit system has been very successfully applied to voucher accounting, saving much time and resulting in very complete records. compared with ordinary voucher systems, the most prominent feature of the unit system is a method of distribution by filing, rather than by means of a voucher register. all vouchers are made on the typewriter, in manifold, one or more copies being used for record purposes only. the original is used exactly as described in the preceding pages. an essential feature of the system is that a copy of the voucher is provided for each account to which it is to be distributed. when one account only is involved, the voucher is made in duplicate, but if the amount is to be distributed to two accounts an extra copy is required. the voucher should be so arranged that the distribution can be shown on the face of the duplicate and triplicate copies. the duplicate voucher is filed according to its distribution, instead of recording the amount in the voucher register. a vertical file is used for this purpose. the index cards are headed with the names of the accounts, and are arranged in the order of the accounts in the ledger; this being the order in which the same accounts would be arranged in a voucher register. back of each index is a folder in which the vouchers are filed. each voucher copy is filed in the folder representing its proper account, and is securely fastened to the folder with a staple or paper fastener. when this voucher is filed it is also recorded on the outside of the folder, which is printed as shown in fig. 18. this form is designed for a record of amounts, distributed under the proper monthly headings. the amount of each voucher is carried to the current month's column. at the end of the month, the footing of the column shows the amount to be charged to that particular account in the general ledger. to arrive at the total of vouchers payable account, a recapitulation sheet, ruled as shown in fig. 19, is used. this is an index card, and is placed in the front of the file. totals of all account folders are entered in the proper columns of this sheet, at the end of each month. payments are posted to this sheet at the end of the month, from the cash book, and the balance extended. this balance, of course, represents the unpaid vouchers and is checked against the unpaid voucher file. [illustration: fig. 18. front of folder for unit system of voucher accounting] [illustration: fig. 19. monthly recapitulation for unit system of voucher accounting] the totals of the different account columns are posted to their respective accounts in the general ledgers, either directly from the recapitulation sheet, or through the journal. the recapitulation sheet, as here shown, is a transcript of the vouchers payable account, and might be used as a ledger card, but it is generally considered better practice to carry the account in the general or private ledger, as usual. such a voucher system furnishes a complete record, with much less transcribing of items, than is involved in the use of the voucher register. the copy of the voucher is made at the same writing as the original, the amount of each individual voucher is entered but once, on the account folder, and monthly totals, only, are carried to the distribution columns on the recapitulation card. this system is equally well adapted to the loose-leaf method. a sheet is used for each account, behind which the vouchers are filed, and a monthly recapitulation sheet is provided for distribution. combined purchase ledger and invoice file =17.= not every business readily adapts itself to a complete voucher system. special conditions sometimes arise which make it seem advisable to keep ledger accounts with all firms from whom the business is making purchases. a case in point is a business, lacking capital to pay all bills promptly, necessitating payments on account, or by note, instead of payments covering certain invoices in full. to obviate the difficulties, in maintaining a complete voucher record, under these and similar conditions, many substitutes have been devised. as an example of what may be accomplished in this direction, we illustrate a system which is in successful operation in a manufacturing business. in the ledger, the usual nominal accounts are kept but no purchase or voucher register is used. columns are provided on the credit side of the cash book for such expense accounts as are usually paid in cash, that is, for which no invoices are rendered, and for accounts payable. for the purchase accounts with firms and individuals, a vertical file is used. each creditor is assigned a folder, on the front of which a suitable record form is printed. this form is shown in fig. 20. the name and address are written at the top, and the ledger account is kept in the columns at the extreme left of the form. all of the columns for distribution are left blank, it being seldom that purchases from one firm are distributed to more than a half dozen different accounts. when an invoice has been o. k.'d it is immediately filed in the proper folder. the total is entered in the credit column and distributed to the proper accounts, the names of which are written at the head of the distribution columns. payments on account are posted to these ledger accounts from the cash book. if the distribution is properly made, the totals of all distribution columns will agree with the total of the credit column. at the end of the month the total of these distribution columns on the individual account folders are drawn off on the monthly recapitulation sheet illustrated by fig. 21. the totals shown by the recapitulation are posted to the debit of the corresponding ledger accounts, while the grand total is posted to the credit of accounts payable account;--which is the controlling account of the purchase ledger. totals of payments on account are posted to the controlling account from the cash book. the proof of accuracy of the controlling account is found in the usual way, by checking against the balances of the individual purchase accounts. with this system, invoices are filed, and the amounts posted, with practically one operation. the items which make up each ledger account are distributed as soon as posted, totals only being carried to the recapitulation sheet, from whence they reach the ledger. accounts are quickly located, as the folders are indexed alphabetically. when an account is balanced it must be left in its place until the end of the month, provided credits have been entered in the current month, so that totals of distribution will be carried to the recapitulation sheet. at the end of the month, all accounts which balance may be transferred to a section of the file reserved for closed accounts. should any of these accounts again become active, they are transferred to the regular file without the slightest confusion. for the purpose of saving time, the balances of all open accounts may be drawn off when the totals of the distribution columns are obtained. [illustration: fig. 20. combined purchase ledger and voucher system] [illustration: fig. 21. monthly recapitulation and distribution sheet] while not recommended for general adoption this system has its points of merit, and in certain contingencies would undoubtedly prove very satisfactory. the main reason for its publication in this work is to show the possibilities of modifying a system, in respect to details, without destroying its more important features. the voucher feature, the obtaining of a formal receipt for every payment, can be maintained just as effectively with this system as with a more formal voucher system. the private ledger =18.= a ledger, devised to contain such accounts as the principals of a business desire to keep from the knowledge of the bookkeeper or other office employes, is known as a private ledger. the title is also frequently used to designate an ordinary general ledger. the accounts most frequently found in the private ledger are capital accounts, profit and loss, reserves, surplus, bills payable, bonds and mortgages payable, and controlling accounts with the general or personal ledgers. it may also contain such accounts as salaries of officers, or partners, investment and drawing accounts, and accounts with real or nominal assets. if it is desired to keep from the employes, knowledge of the exact nature of any transaction, or the standing of a particular account, it can be done by making use of the private ledger. when both ledgers are used, the private ledger contains only those accounts which it is desired to keep _private_, while the general ledger is kept for all other accounts, except those included in the personal ledgers. the private ledger is most commonly used in large businesses where, for various reasons, a number of employes have access to the books, and it is desired to keep them in ignorance of the private affairs of the concern. the private ledger is usually kept by one of the partners, an officer, the auditor, or the chief accountant. =19. advantages of private ledger.= the primary advantage of the private ledger to the principals of a business, is that by its use, they can keep to themselves all details of transactions of a special nature. some other advantages that accrue to the principal may be enumerated as follows: he can, through the private ledger, keep an eye on the activities and condition of the business as a whole, or of any particular department or branch of that business. he can keep in touch with the liabilities, or with the total amount of personal accounts outstanding. he can absolutely control the distribution of expense in manufacturing operations. he can keep from his employes, knowledge of the profits or losses of the business. partners can keep private the amount of their investments, or the salaries drawn. salaries paid to individual officers or employes can be kept private. dividends declared, capital subscribed, investments of a special nature, or amount of assets of any kind, can all be kept from the knowledge of employes. =20. how operated.= accounts in the private ledger must not conflict with accounts in general or personal ledgers, and the fact that private accounts are kept should not interfere with the balance of the general books. to insure against any such conflict, a private ledger controlling account is kept in the general ledger. in the general cash book, and sometimes in the journal, debit and credit columns headed _private ledger_ are provided. all entries affecting private ledger accounts are extended in these columns, but no particulars are recorded. at the end of the month, the totals of these columns are posted to a private ledger account in the general ledger. this controlling account then appears in the general ledger trial balance, and must agree with the balance of accounts in the private ledger. with the private ledger a private journal is used, in which entries affecting private ledger accounts are made, with explanations in detail. as an example of the use of the private ledger we will suppose that a payment of $500.00 is to be made to a certain party, and it is desired to keep that transaction private. the bookkeeper is instructed to draw a check for the amount, to be charged to private ledger account. he enters the check in the general cash book, debiting private ledger and crediting cash or bank. the entry is posted from the general cash book to the private journal, where full particulars are recorded, from which it is posted to the private ledger. in the case referred to, the amount of the check is debited to the proper nominal account, and credited to a general ledger account. the general ledger account in the private ledger is a controlling account which agrees with the private ledger account in the general ledger. only entries affecting general ledger accounts are posted to this account. entries involving changes in private ledger accounts only, are made in the private journal direct. some concerns keep the controlling accounts with the sales and purchase ledgers in the private ledger. at the end of the month, total debits and credits to accounts in these ledgers are entered in the private journal. these totals are obtained from the general cash book, sales book, purchase book, and any other books from which postings are regularly made. [illustration: fig. 22. cash book with columns for private ledger accounts] when a private ledger is kept, it precludes the possibility of forced balances in the general ledger trial balance, since the balances of the private ledger accounts must agree with the private ledger controlling account in the general ledger, and if sales and purchase ledger controlling accounts are kept in the private ledger, these must balance with the personal accounts in those ledgers. the use of a private ledger not only acts as a check on trial balance errors, but simplifies the trial balance by making possible a proof of ledgers in sections. fig. 22 is an illustration of a cash book with columns for the private ledger account. =21. manufacturing accounts in the private ledger.= not infrequently, manufacturers find it advisable to keep private certain details which affect costs, or even all knowledge of the exact cost of their manufactured product. this may be done by keeping certain manufacturing controlling accounts in the private ledger. in determining the cost of manufacture of any class of goods, three elements enter into the computation; material, labor, and expense. to determine the cost of the first two items is comparatively simple, requiring only an efficient system of records in the factory. but to determine the amount of expense of all classes, included in the cost of a given article, job, or operation, is more difficult. a system of records that will show the exact cost of such items as power, heat, or taxes properly chargeable to an individual job or operation is obviously impossible, and it has been found necessary to apportion these, and all similar items of expense, on a percentage basis. usually this percentage is based on some element of cost which can be determined with accuracy. cost accountants and engineers have worked out this percentage on the basis of various elements of cost, as direct labor, material, machine hour, man hour, or a combination of two or more of these elements. the exact method used, which must be adapted to the conditions existing in the individual factory, does not enter into this discussion. since there are numerous items of expense of the character referred to, it is customary to group them, for purposes of cost computation. sometimes all such expense items are grouped under the one head of general expense. it is by means of a controlling account in the private ledger, that the distribution of expense is made, thereby keeping private the exact cost of manufacture. the known cost of a certain job or article--the cost of material and labor--is frequently referred to as the prime cost. the duties of the cost clerk may end with determining the prime cost, his computations not including expense items. the total cost of material and labor for the month is charged to private ledger account, material and labor accounts receiving proper credit. the exact amounts of the various items of expense for the month are also charged to private ledger account, with credits to expense accounts. in the private journal, these items are charged to various controlling accounts, and credited to the general ledger controlling account. the usual entries are: manufacturing account $______ general ledger $______ for material $______ for labor $______ expense distribution $______ general ledger $______ for rent $______ for power $______ for repairs $______ etc. etc. the percentage of expense for the current month on whatever element based, has been determined from the actual results of the preceding month. to illustrate, we will suppose that expense is apportioned on the basis of direct labor; the cost of this item during the month was $1,600.00, and the amount of expense charged to operation of the plant during the same period was $240.00;--which gives us a ratio of 15%. we wish to determine the cost of jobs as they are completed during the current month. the records turned in by the cost department give us the actual cost of material and direct labor, but not knowing the exact ratio of expense to direct labor for this month, we use last month's ratio, and add an amount equal to 15% of the known cost of direct labor. when the actual results for the month are determined it is quite probable that the ratio will vary from last month's record, as either factor may change. it will be necessary to adjust this difference, which is the reason for an expense distribution or expense adjustment account in the private ledger. by keeping the expense controlling account in the private ledger, the principal can keep private, not only the actual cost of an article, but the percentage of expense and the basis of the expense apportionment. if thought desirable, he can add further amounts for the purpose of establishing a selling price. in actual operation, the amount of expense to be charged against completed work will be computed, and the following entry made: manufacturing account $______ expense distribution $______ the amount of expense charged to jobs completed. if the expense ratio used were exact, the expense distribution account would balance at the end of each month, but owing to the fluctuations, a balance will remain. this is adjusted by increasing or decreasing the percentage used during the following month, and in this way the accounts are kept in balance. manufacturing account has been charged with labor, material, and expense,--the total manufacturing cost. completed goods are charged to a finished goods account, the entry being: finished goods $______ manufacturing account $______ net cost of goods completed but manufacturing account will not balance, for there always will be work in process, and the balance of the account will be the cost to date of this work in process, a most important record. this discussion is not intended to cover every possible use of the private ledger, but, by means of examples, to suggest its possibilities. the explanations and examples should afford the student many hints of value. exercise on a certain date, the following transactions are recorded on the books of carter & adams: purchases on account $560.00 sales on account 420.00 paid for rent 75.00 sales for cash 82.00 henry carter (partner) withdrew cash 50.00 john adams (partner) advanced to the business 300.00 what items in the above list of transactions should, in your opinion, be posted to the private ledger? on journal paper, make the entries and show necessary private ledger accounts. charting the accounts =22.= the proper arrangement of the accounts of a business is best shown by a chart, in which the accounts to be kept are grouped according to their relative importance. in laying out a chart of accounts, they should be first separated into their proper divisions. the natural divisions are capital, trading, and profit and loss. each division contains only those accounts that naturally belong in that particular class. these divisions are then subdivided into groups containing specific kinds of accounts, the groups being arranged in logical sequence. as an example, the trading division of a manufacturing business is divided into manufacturing and trading. there may be several subdivisions of the manufacturing account; several classes of goods may be manufactured and a manufacturing account kept for each class, or it may be necessary to manufacture completed parts, each requiring a complete manufacturing process. detailed costs being required for each of these completed parts, manufacturing accounts are kept for each, the main division representing the cost of the finished product, as a result of the assembling of the parts. the completed parts are treated as raw material, when drawn for use in the finished product, the total costs being finally absorbed by the main manufacturing account. one of the many examples that might be cited is a packing business, operating its own can factory and keeping a manufacturing account to show the cost of cans. other accounts show the cost of the product packed in those cans, and both costs are absorbed in the cost of the commodity as marketed. the trading account is similarly subdivided. in a department store, the manager of a department may receive a certain percentage of the profits of his department. this necessitates trading accounts for each department. a mercantile concern may operate branch stores and keep trading accounts with each, on the books of the main office; a factory may produce several lines of goods, with a corresponding subdivision of trading accounts. a chart of accounts not only furnishes a guide to the bookkeeper, but presents in the most logical form, the natural divisions of the business. it is both a working guide and a mirror of the accounting records. =23. chart of small trading business.= the most simple chart of accounts is one for a small trading business conducted by a single proprietor. following is a chart of the accounts of such a business. [illustration: fig. 23. chart of profit and loss accounts] a study of this chart will disclose the reasons for the general grouping of the accounts. the first general group, capital accounts is subdivided into assets and liabilities. the assets are grouped in the order of their availability; the order in which they can most readily be converted into cash. the liabilities are grouped according to the security; unsecured, secured and capital. there being but one trading account, it is represented by a single group, purchases and in-freight representing the cost of goods, and sales the gross proceeds. the balance of this account exhibits the gross profits. [illustration: fig. 24. chart of profit and loss accounts] we now come to the profit and loss account by which the trading or gross profits are absorbed. this group contains, first, the revenue producing accounts not represented in the trading account; second, the revenue expenditures or expense accounts. the outer brackets of the chart group all of the accounts under _debit_ and _credit_. this shows that the balances of the accounts are debit or credit as the case may be. we have traced the profits to the profit and loss account, but in closing the books they will finally be absorbed by the proprietor's capital account. the chart, fig. 23, traces the profits from trading to proprietor's account. in the trading account, the gross profit completes the balance. this profit is now absorbed by the profit and loss account. net profit completes the balance of profit and loss account, and is, in turn, absorbed by the proprietor's account. here, the net profit added to previous investment, equals the present worth. the chart, fig. 24, also traces profits to the proprietor's account. =24. chart of manufacturing accounts.= a chart of the accounts of a manufacturing business follows similar lines to that of a trading business, the only change being the addition of the accounts of the manufacturing group. the accounts of this group will depend both upon the nature of the business and the extent to which the details of operation are recorded. a chart of the accounts of a harness and saddlery manufacturing business is given herein. this business is divided into three departments; harness, collar, and saddlery. a record of the gross profits, resulting from the operation of each department, being desired, we have three manufacturing and three trading accounts. the chart shows the accounts classified to exhibit detailed operations of each department. the number of accounts in this chart is 98. this is rather more than is required in the average business of this character, but the chart furnishes a good illustration of the possibility of segregating accounts of various classes. even so large a number of accounts, with the minute subdivisions here shown, does not present the difficulties that might appear at first glance. the principal requirement is a thorough knowledge of the items entering into each account; the actual keeping of the accounts is a matter of close attention to these details. when an elaborate chart of accounts is laid out, it should be accompanied by detailed explanations and instructions. some large concerns issue printed instructions which are given to all officers and employes who may be called upon to determine, to what account an item should be charged. chart of accounts--harness manufacturing capital accounts _assets_ 1 cash 2 bills receivable 3 accounts receivable inventories--harness department 4 finished stock 5 leather 6 hardware 7 supplies inventories--collar department 8 finished stock 9 leather 10 hardware 11 supplies inventories--saddlery department 12 finished stock 13 leather 14 hardware 15 supplies inventories--machinery 16 machinery--harness 17 machinery--collar 18 machinery--saddlery inventories--tools 19 tools--harness 20 tools--collar 21 tools--saddlery inventories--general 22 office fixtures and supplies 23 delivery equipment 24 real estate--land and buildings _liabilities_ 25 accounts payable 26 bills payable 27 mortgages reserves 28 depreciation of buildings 29 depreciation of machinery 30 depreciation of tools and fixtures 31 bad debts 32 capital stock 33 surplus manufacturing accounts _a_ harness department 34 purchases--leather 35 purchases--hardware 36 purchases--supplies 37 in-freight 38 labor--cutting department 39 labor--manufacturing department 40 inventory adjustment _b_ collar department 41 purchases--leather 42 purchases--hardware 43 purchases--supplies 44 in-freight 45 labor--cutting department 46 labor--manufacturing department 47 inventory adjustment _c_ saddlery department 48 purchases--leather 49 purchases--hardware 50 purchases--supplies 51 in-freight 52 labor--cutting department 53 labor--manufacturing department 54 inventory adjustment _d_ manufacturing expense adjustment 55 power, heat and light 56 engine room supplies 57 salaries--superintendent and factory clerks 58 wages engineers and miscellaneous 59 general factory expense 60 repairs and maintenance--buildings 61 repairs and maintenance--machinery 62 repairs and maintenance--tools trading accounts _e_ harness department 63 sales 64 returns and allowances 65 inventory adjustment _f_ collar department 66 sales 67 returns and allowances 68 inventory adjustment _g_ saddlery department 69 sales 70 returns and allowances 71 inventory adjustment _h_ profit and loss 72 interest credits 73 cash discount credits 74 rent credits _i_ administration 75 insurance and taxes 76 salaries--officers 77 salaries--bookkeepers and clerks 78 printing and stationery 79 legal expenses 80 postage, telegraph and telephone 81 office expenses 82 traveling expense--officers 83 misc. general expense _j_ sales expense 84 advertising 85 salaries--salesmen 86 commission 87 traveling expense--salesmen 88 trade show expense 89 out-freight and express _k_ collecting 90 collection fees 91 cash discounts allowed _l_ delivery expense 92 wages 93 maintenance horses and wagons 94 maintenance motor trucks _m_ depreciation adjustment 95 buildings 96 machinery 97 tools and fixtures 98 bad debts =25. chart explained.= the following explanations will give the student a working knowledge of the operation of these accounts. accounts, 1 to 33, inclusive, comprising assets and liabilities, are omitted, as no instructions will be required for keeping these accounts. all accounts are referred to by number. 34. _purchases--leather._ charged with all purchases of leather for use in harness department. credited with all leather transferred to other departments. 35. _purchases--hardware._ charged with all purchases of hardware for use in harness department. credited with all hardware transferred to other departments, 36. _purchases--supplies._ charged with all purchases of supplies and materials, other than leather and hardware, for use in harness department. credited with all transfers to other departments. 37. _in-freight._ charged with the cost of freight and cartage on all purchases for the harness department. totals pro-rated to department purchase accounts at the end of each month. 38. _labor--cutting department._ charged with the wages of all men employed in cutting department, including foreman. 39. _labor--manufacturing department._ charged with the wages of all harness makers, and others employed in the harness manufacturing department. 40. _inventory adjustment._ an account used for the temporary adjustment of inventories for the purpose of obtaining monthly balances. at the end of the fiscal period, or whenever the books are closed, the balance of this account is transferred to inventory accounts. accounts 34 to 40, inclusive, are finally closed into a harness manufacturing account. the same instructions apply to accounts 41 to 47, inclusive, in respect to the collar department, and to accounts 48 to 54, inclusive, in respect to the saddlery department. 55. _power, heat and light._ charged with all fuel and electric power, consumed for power, heat and light. 56. _engine room supplies._ charged with all oils, waste and other supplies, used in the engine room. 57. _salaries--superintendents and factory clerks._ charged with salaries of general superintendent, superintendent's clerk and all clerks employed exclusively in the factory, as time keepers and clerks. 58. _wages--engineers and miscellaneous._ charged with wages of engineer and assistants, wages of shipping clerk and assistants, wages of receiving and stock clerks, wages of all general laborers whose time is not chargeable to a specific department. 59. _general factory expense._ charged with all miscellaneous items of factory expense not provided for in other accounts. 60. _repairs and maintenance--buildings._ charged with all material and labor consumed in the repairs and maintenance of buildings. 61. _repairs and maintenance--machinery._ charged with same items as no. 60, as applied to machinery. 62. _repairs and maintenance--tools._ same as no. 61, applied to tools. accounts 55 to 62, inclusive, are closed into a manufacturing expense adjustment account, monthly. this account is credited with expense charged to each departmental manufacturing account, the distribution being made on a percentage basis. 63. _sales--harness department._ credited with the amount of all sales in the harness department. 64. _returns and allowances._ charged with all returns and allowances on account of harness sales, except cash discount. 65. _inventory adjustment._ an account used for the temporary adjustment of inventories of finished stock, for the purpose of obtaining monthly statements of gross profits. at the end of the fiscal year, the balance of the account is transferred to inventory of finished goods account, through the trading account. accounts 63 to 65, inclusive, are closed into a harness trading account, at the end of the fiscal year. for purposes of comparison, monthly trading statements are made, leaving these accounts undisturbed until the end of the year. accounts 66 to 68, inclusive, and 69 to 71, inclusive, are handled exactly the same manner, in relation to the collar and saddlery departments. 72. _interest credits._ credited with all interest collected on past due accounts, or received on outside investments. 73. _cash discount credits._ credited with all discounts earned by the prepayment of bills. 74. _rent credits._ credited with all amounts received from rentals of property owned by the company, or as a result of subletting leased property. 75. _insurance and taxes._ charged with all sums paid for fire, liability or other insurance, state and municipal taxes, and license fees. 76. _salaries--officers._ charged with the salaries of all administrative officers, and directors' fees. 77. _salaries--bookkeeper and clerks._ charged with amounts of salaries of all bookkeepers, stenographers, and other office clerks. 78. _printing and stationery._ charged with the cost of all stationery and printed matter used in the offices. 79. _legal expense._ charged with attorney's fees and all expense of litigation. 80. _postage, telegraph and telephone._ charged with all sums paid for postage, and telegraph and telephone service. 81. _office expenses._ charged with sundry items of office expense, not provided for in other accounts. 82. _traveling expense--officers._ charged with all legitimate traveling expenses incurred by officers in the interest of the company. 83. _misc. general expenses._ charged with all expense items not otherwise accounted for. accounts 72 to 83, inclusive, are closed into an administration account. 84. _advertising._ charged with all sums paid for advertising, including periodical advertising, catalogs, circulars, and novelties. 85. _salaries--salesmen._ charged with the salaries of all traveling salesmen. 86. _commissions._ charged with all commissions paid to brokers or salesmen. 87. _traveling expenses--salesmen._ charged with all legitimate expenses of salesmen, incurred in the interest of the company. 88. _trade show expense._ charged with all expenses incurred on account of exhibitions at trade shows. sometimes treated as a part of advertising expense. 89. _out-freight and express._ charged with all freight and express paid on goods sold at delivered prices. accounts 84 to 89, inclusive, are closed into a sales expense account. 90. _collection fees._ charged with all fees paid to banks, attorneys or others, for the collection of accounts. 91. _cash discounts allowed._ charged with all allowances to customers, for prompt payment of bills. accounts 90 and 91 are closed into a collecting account. 92. _wages._ charged with the wages of drivers and barn men. 93. _maintenance.--horses and wagons._ charged with cost of feed, stable supplies, repairs to harness and wagons, blacksmithing and horse-shoeing. 94. _maintenance--motor trucks._ charged with all expense of up-keep and repairs to delivery trucks. accounts 92 to 94, inclusive, are closed into a delivery expense account. 95. _depreciation--buildings._ credited monthly with current charges for depreciation. 96, 97, and 98. handled the same as no. 95. accounts 95 and 98 are closed into a depreciation adjustment account. [illustration: manufacturing ledger with closing entries] [illustration: manufacturing ledger with closing entries] [illustration: manufacturing ledger with closing entries] the illustrations (pp. 48-50) show how all of these accounts are assembled into main groups, and finally closed into profit and loss, and capital accounts. an explanation of the accounts in the harness department will be sufficient to show how all of the accounts are treated. harness manufacturing, account _a_, is charged with accounts 34 to 39, inclusive, and the proper portion of account _d_. it is credited with the cost of all finished goods, the amount being transferred to account _e_, harness trading. it is credited with the increase in inventories over the preceding month, this amount being transferred to account 40; if inventories show a decrease, the amount is charged. harness trading, account _e_, is charged with cost of finished goods from account _a_; with account 64; with gross profits, transferred to profit and loss, account _h_. it is credited with sales, account 63; with increase in inventory, account 65. gross profits on account of trading are closed into profit and loss. inventory adjustment accounts nos. 40 and 65, are still open and the balances show total inventories. the actual amounts of inventories are transferred to accounts 4 to 7, inclusive. this will leave a balance in inventory adjustment account no. 40, representing work in process in the harness factory. these inventory adjustment accounts are closed only at the end of the fiscal year, or when the books are closed. at the beginning of a new fiscal period the inventories are again charged to inventory adjustment accounts, and adjusting entries made monthly in manufacturing and trading accounts. review questions. practical test questions. in the foregoing sections of this cyclopedia numerous illustrative examples are worked out in detail in order to show the application of the various methods and principles. accompanying these are examples for practice which will aid the reader in fixing the principles in mind. in the following pages are given a large number of test questions and problems which afford a valuable means of testing the reader's knowledge of the subjects treated. they will be found excellent practice for those preparing for civil service examinations. in some cases numerical answers are given as a further aid in this work. review questions on the subject of theory of accounts part i 1. name three objects of bookkeeping. 2. define and give examples of three classes of debits; of credits. 3. what are the general rules for debit and credit? 4. what is meant by the term _balance_? when is an account said to show a debit balance, and when a credit balance? 5. how many methods of bookkeeping are in use? name them. 6. how is double entry distinguished from single entry bookkeeping? 7. what is the fundamental principle of double entry bookkeeping? 8. name two or more advantages of double entry bookkeeping. 9. what name is given to books used for bookkeeping records? 10. into how many classes are account books divided? give examples. 11. name and give the principal uses of the most commonly used books. 12. what is meant by _journalizing_? by _posting_? 13. what is a promissory note? 14. what is your understanding of the term _bills receivable_ and _bills payable_? 15. what is the name of the book in which a record of bills receivable and bills payable is kept? 16. what is _an acceptance_? 17. what is _discount_? _exchange_? 18. what is a _deposit slip_ and how is it used? 19. what is a _signature card_ and what are its uses? 20. what is meant by _indorsement of checks_? 21. prepare three forms of indorsement and explain the meaning of each. 22. what is meant by _petty cash_? how is the account of petty cash kept? 23. mr. h. b. emerson is a dealer in coal and lumber. that he may know what profits are made in each branch of his business, he keeps accounts in his ledger with coal and lumber. in his sales book, one column is used for lumber sales and one for coal sales. no purchase book is kept. his assets and liabilities are as follows: assets cash in state bank $1,427.30 inventory, coal 600.00 " lumber 1,750.00 frank knowlton, note due aug. 2nd 75.00 $3,852.30 ------- liabilities eastern coal co., open account 260.00 northern lumber co., " 420.00 680.00 -------the following transactions are recorded: may 3. bought from john weber, for cash, lumber $130.00; paid by check no. 19. may 4. sold to edward walsh, on account, 2 tons coal @ 7.00, $14.00. may 5. drew from bank for petty cash, check no. 20, $10.00; sold to franklin & co., lumber, $256.00. may 6. sold for cash, coal $17.50; received from edward walsh, on account, $10.00. may 7. gave northern lumber co., check no. 21, $220.00, 60-day note, $200.00. may 8. accepted 30-day draft of eastern coal co., $260.00; paid for repairs to desk, cash, $1.50. make all necessary entries in books of original entry to properly record the above. review questions on the subject of theory of accounts part ii 1. into what two _general_ and what three _special classes_ are accounts divided in double entry bookkeeping? 2. define and give examples of _personal_, _real_, _representative_, and _nominal accounts_. 3. what is a _merchandise account_? what accounts are substituted for the merchandise account in modern bookkeeping? in what particular is the use of these accounts an improvement over the older method of using a merchandise account? 4. name and define four classes of assets, giving examples of each. 5. give two examples of fixed assets in one business which become floating assets in another business. give two examples of floating assets in one business which become fixed assets in another business. 6. what are revenue receipts? revenue expenditures? what accounts are designated by the term _revenue accounts_? 7. what is the broad term by which all revenue expenditure accounts are designated? name and define five commonly used subdivisions of this account. 8. what is meant by _journalizing_? when purchase and sales books are used, what class of entries are made in the journal? give three examples of journal entries involving transfers of value from one account to another. 9. what is a _three column journal_, and how is it used? 10. journalize the following transactions: april 15. bought from reliance mills, on account 94 bbls. flour @ $4.75 sold to d. h. pointer, on account 15 bbls. flour @ 5.35 sold to h. s. fleming, on account 60 bu. wheat @ 1.05 april 16. gave to reliance mills, my note payable in 60 days, to balance account received from d. h. pointer note for 30 days to balance account. 11. what is meant by _posting_? explain the operation of posting, using one of the above transactions as an example. 12. in what particular does posting from the cash book differ from posting from the journal? explain this difference, and illustrate with two examples. 13. what is a _trial balance_, and for what purpose is it taken? what does a trial balance prove? 14. what are _cash discounts_? are cash discounts a proper charge against capital, or against revenue? why? 15. name two ways of treating cash discounts in the ledger, based on your answer to the previous question. 16. illustrate two methods of entering cash discounts allowed in the cash book; illustrate the customer's ledger account as it would appear after posting the credit, from each of these entries. which method, in your opinion, most clearly shows how the account was settled? 17. should cash discounts earned be credited against the cost of goods purchased, or credited to profits? why? 18. what is a _profit and loss account_? what does the balance of this account represent? how frequently is the balance of profit and loss account transferred? to what accounts, in a proprietorship or partnership? in a corporation? 19. what is a _trading account_, and what is its purpose? with what classes of items should trading account be debited and credited? how is the trading account constructed? 20. what is meant by the _turnover_? how can the amount of the turnover be shown in the trading account? 21. what is a _manufacturing account_, and of what items is it made up? what does the balance of the manufacturing account represent? 22. what is a _merchandise inventory account_, and when and for what purpose is it used? when are the books said to be closed? 23. what is a _balance sheet_? in what order should the asset and liability accounts be listed on the balance sheet? 24. from the following trial balance prepare trading account, profit and loss account, and balance sheet. trial balance proprietor (investment) $7,500.00 bill payable 3,000.00 accounts payable 1,550.00 bank $1,254.84 accounts receivable 2,685.11 bills receivable 3,860.00 merchandise inventory 6,277.76 furniture and fixtures 750.00 purchases 7,605.78 expense 1,416.30 discount on sales 112.65 interest 44.20 sales 11,990.70 cash 122.46 --------- --------- $24,084.90 $24,084.90 inventory at end of period $6,807.09. 25. give examples of the proper journal entries when the following transactions occur in respect to notes receivable: when a note is received; when a note is paid; when a note is collected by the bank. 26. complete the explanations of the following entries, and state under what circumstances they would be made: bank $199.00 interest 1.00 bills discounted $200.00 bills discounted 200.00 bank 200.00 bills receivable 5.00 bills discounted 1,000.00 bank 1,005.00 27. make the proper journal entries under the following circumstances: when a note is past due; when a note is renewed; when a renewed note has been discounted. 28. we buy from marshall field & company a bill of dry goods, amounting to $978.40, and give them our note @ 60 days in payment. what entry? 29. marshall field & company discount our note, and it is presented for payment by the continental national bank. we give our check in payment of the note, with interest @ 5%. how much do we pay, and what is the entry? 30. we borrow $1,000.00 from our bank on our note @ 30 days, interest @ 6%. what is the exact entry? 31. when a draft has been accepted how should it be treated on the books? 32. what is the proper entry when a customer pays our sight draft? 33. we draw on george johnson for $650.00 @ 60 days sight. he accepts the draft, which we discount at our bank 3 days later, the bank charging us 7% interest. what entries are necessary? 34. we accept a draft from john v. farwell & co. for $416.00 payable in 90 days. what is the entry on our books? what is the entry on the books of farwell & co.? 35. we pay a sight draft drawn by cable piano co. what entry? review questions on the subject of single proprietors' and partners' accounts 1. what books are generally used in a small retail business? what is a blotter, and how is it used? 2. what is the special feature of the journal ruled ledger, and of what advantage is such a ledger in a retail business? 3. in a single proprietorship, what does the proprietor's account represent? 4. name one good reason why withdrawals of the proprietor should be charged to a personal account. 5. when the books are closed, what account absorbs the profit or loss? 6. what is meant by _taking an inventory_, and what processes are involved? 7. should an inventory be based on _cost_ or on _selling_ prices? why? 8. what is meant by _closing the books_? 9. in a retail business, such as is discussed in the text, what regular accounts are closed into trading account? 10. what does the balance of trading account represent? into what account is this balance closed? 11. what does the difference between assets and liabilities, as shown by the balance sheet, represent? in a single proprietorship, with what ledger account does this balance agree? 12. george thompson commences business to-day, with assets consisting of cash, $1,650.00; an account due from henry watson, $84.60. his transactions consist of purchases on account as follows: from henry karl & co. $460.00 " white & black 320.50 purchases for cash 129.00 sales for cash 87.50 " on account 274.80 paid on account to karl & co. 300.00 collected on account 124.80 paid for sundry expenses 63.70 inventory at close of business 655.50 open the books, enter the transactions in journal, cash book, and sales book, and make all postings to the ledger. prepare a trial balance, at the close of business, prepare a trading account, close into profit and loss, and close net profits into proprietor's account, prepare a balance sheet, 13. what is a sales ticket, and for what purpose is it used? 14. what benefit is derived from keeping departmental purchase and sales records. 15. prepare suitable forms for departmental purchase and sales records for a business divided into three departments. 16. what is a partnership? 17. what is the purpose of a partnership agreement? 18. by what names are the different classes of partners known? 19. on what basis are the profits of a partnership usually divided? 20. how are the _personal_ and _capital_ accounts of partners distinguished? what is the purpose of each of these accounts? 21. when the books of a partnership are closed, into what accounts are the _revenue_ accounts closed? into what accounts is the _profit_ and _loss_ account closed? 22. when the business of a partnership is sold, or liquidated, how are the net assets divided? 23. if any part of the assets, other than the goods in which the firm is trading, brings a price above cost, what journal entry is necessary? what entry if the price is below cost? 24. when partners invest unequal amounts in the business, what is the usual method of adjusting the inequality? 25. white, black, and brown who have been conducting business under a partnership agreement, decide to liquidate the business and dissolve the partnership. in the final settlement white agrees to accept the accounts receivable, which amount to $6,432.00, in part payment of the amount due him, provided 10% is first charged off to cover doubtful accounts. what journal entry is necessary? 26. h. w. hackett has been conducting a grocery business. his books have been kept by double entry, and were last closed december 31st, 1908. at that time, his net worth was $2,698.50. april 30th, 1909, he sold to john ransom a half interest in the business for $1,500.00. ransom made a cash payment of $1,000.00, and gave his note for $500.00 payable on demand, with interest at 6%. the profits for the four months ending april 30th, 1909, (estimated from the books), were $325.00. this amount was to be allowed to mr. hackett and placed to his credit on the books. make journal entries for the allowed profit and for the sale of the half interest. the books are not to be closed at the beginning of the new partnership. 27. prepare in proper form a solution of the problem given in art. 40, page 72. 28. prepare a complete solution of the problem given in art. 42, page 74. review questions on the subject of corporation accounts 1. into what two general classes are corporations divided? name and give examples of two classes of private corporations. 2. how are joint stock companies distinguished from corporations? in what ways are they like corporations? 3. how are corporations created? name 5 common requirements of the certificate of incorporation or application for a corporate charter. 4. what is meant by a _stockholder_, and how may a person become a stockholder in a corporation? what is a _stock certificate_? 5. what is meant by the _capitalization of a corporation_? what is the difference in meaning of the terms _capital_ and _capital stock_, as these terms are usually understood? 6. define the two principal classes of stock issued by corporations. name and define two kinds of preferred stock. what is meant by the term _treasury stock_? _watered stock?_ 7. by whom are the affairs of a corporation managed? from whom do they receive their authority? has a director, as such, the power individually to bind the corporation? 8. what special powers have the directors? in what way do the powers of officers and directors differ? 9. name five of the necessary powers of a corporation, as such. name three of the rights of an individual stockholder. 10. what is meant by a _dividend_? by whose authority are dividends declared? what is your understanding of the term _stock dividend_? 11. what class of records is implied by the term _corporation bookkeeping_? name, and describe briefly, the books used in corporation bookkeeping. 12. give examples of the proper entries on the books, under the following conditions: (a) the entire capital stock ($100,000.00) is subscribed and paid for in cash. (b) only $60,000.00 of the stock is subscribed, but this is paid in cash. it is not desired to show on the books more capital than is paid in. (c) cash subscriptions are received for $49,000.00 of an authorized issue of $100,000.00, but it is desired to show the total capitalization on the books. (d) the entire capital stock ($150,000.00) is subscribed but not paid in. it is desired to show the capital stock, without opening accounts in the general books with individual subscribers. (e) a payment of 20% is called for on the above stock. 13. a corporation is organized with a capitalization of $50,000.00 to take over the business of henry thompson. he is to pay his liabilities out of his assets, and transfer the balance of the property belonging to the business to the corporation, receiving $25,000.00 full paid stock. the following discloses the condition of his affairs: assets cash in bank $1164.50 accounts receivable 3760.00 real estate 10000.00 merchandise inventory 7642.50 furniture and fixtures 600.00 $23167.00 ------- liabilities bills payable 1000.00 1000.00 ------- ------- balance $22167.00 what is the proper entry on the books of the corporation, the balance of the stock being unsubscribed? 14. a corporation agrees to purchase a mine, issuing $1,000,000.00 full paid stock in payment. the owner of the mine, to whom the stock is issued, agrees to donate to the company $500,000.00 of his stock to provide working capital. subsequently, $100,000.00 of this stock is sold at 50% of its face value; $200,000.00 at 60%; $100,000.00 at 70%; and $100,000.00 at par. working capital is maintained at the amount realized from the sale of the donated stock. make all entries to show these transactions, it being understood that all subscriptions are paid in cash. 15. if the stock of a corporation sells at a premium, how would you enter the amount received above par? to what account would you transfer the premium when closing the books? 16. what would be the entries in the stock books to record the transactions shown in questions 12 and 14? 17. a promoter organizes a corporation to develope a mine, receiving as his fee $50,000.00 in stock. what are the entries on the books of the corporation? 18. the profits of a corporation with a paid up capital of $200,000.00, are $18,750.00. the directors declare a cash dividend of 6%, and create a special surplus fund of $5,000.00. make all necessary entries. 19. the losses of the above corporation during the following year were $2,750.00. make proper entries, with full explanations. 20. the accumulated surplus of a corporation capitalized at $1,000,000.00, with a paid up capital of $600,000.00, is $110,000.00; the current profits are $100,000.00. the directors declare a cash dividend of 7%, and a stock dividend of 25%. make all entries to record these transactions on the general books of the corporation. 21. the following statistics are taken from the books of a corporation: capital stock $300,000.00 merchandise inventory 97,600.00 machinery 110,800.00 undivided profits 600.00 profit and loss (credit) 31,210.00 it is desired to set aside a special surplus fund as a machinery depreciation reserve, the depreciation being figured at 10% a year, and to pay a dividend of 6%. what entries are necessary? 22. parsons, young, and searles are partners and decide to form a corporation with capital stock of $40,000.00, which is to be issued as full paid stock in exchange for their present business. each partner is to receive stock in proportion to his interest in the present business. the balance sheet of the partnership is as follows: assets cash $3,500.00 bills receivable 6,000.00 accounts receivable 6,500.00 merchandise 14,000.00 --------- total $30,000.00 liabilities bills payable 4,000.00 accounts payable 2,000.00 parsons 10,000.00 young 8,000.00 searles 6,000.00 --------- total 30,000.00 make entries on books of the partnership. make entries on books of the corporation. 23. hoadley and stockton are partners and desire to incorporate a company. the stock is to be divided equally between hoadley and stockton after giving hopper $1,000.00. the balance sheet of the partnership is as follows: assets cash $ 960.00 accounts receivable 1,570.00 merchandise 720.00 --------- total $3,250.00 liabilities accounts payable 460.00 bills payable 500.00 hoadley 1,145.00 stockton 1,145.00 --------- total 3,250.00 make all necessary entries on the books of the partnership. make open entries on the books of the new company. 24. the national manufacturing co. has an authorized capital of $100,000.00 of which $60,000.00 is paid up and $40,000.00, unsubscribed. it is decided to permit employes to subscribe for $10,000.00 of the stock by paying 10 per cent in cash, all dividends declared to be applied to the payment of subscriptions. what entries are made when this stock is subscribed for? a 10 per cent dividend being declared at the end of the first year, what entry is required? 25. the atlas novelty co. has a capital stock of $50,000.00. all of the stock has been subscribed for, but only 40 per cent has been paid. a surplus of $10,000.00 has been accumulated. it is desired to reduce the stock to $25,000.00 full paid. what is the necessary proceeding, and what entries are required? 26. a company has a capital stock of $50,000.00 full paid, and a surplus of $11,172.00. a stockholder who owns $7,000.00 stock in the company wishes to dispose of his stock and, to secure cash, offers to sell it to the company at par. his offer is accepted and the stock purchased, but the company does not wish to reduce its capitalization. what is the entry? 27. what is a reserve? give three examples showing purposes for which reserves are created. 28. what is a _reserve fund_? why is a reserve fund treated as a liability? 29. what is a _sinking fund_, and what is its purpose? 30. what is a _bond_? describe three classes of bonds. 31. when bonds are issued, by what account are they represented in the ledger? does this account represent an asset, or a liability? 32. if bonds are sold at a premium, to what account is the premium credited? would it be correct to credit this premium to profit and loss? why? 33. to what account is the interest paid on bonds charged? when bonds are sold with accrued interest, which is paid by the purchaser, what disposition is made of the interest received? what disposition should be made of expense incurred in the sale of bonds? 34. what is the most important point to be kept in mind when devising a system of accounts for a manufacturing business? 35. from what items is the manufacturing account made up? what does the balance of manufacturing account represent? 36. describe, briefly, a method of obtaining the necessary statistics to make up the manufacturing account for a business in which but one line of goods are manufactured? what is the object of sectionalizing the pay-roll by departments? 37. what is an _expense inventory account_; when is it used; and how is it made up? when is an expense liability considered; by what account is it represented; and how is the account made up? 38. what is meant by a _balance ledger_? illustrate a form of balance ledger. 39. for what purpose is an invoice register used? explain the general plan of such a book. 40. make up a manufacturing account from the data given on page 76. show the journal entries used in making up this account. review questions on the subject of the voucher system 1. state, in your own words, the generally accepted meaning of the term _voucher_, as used in business. 2. what is the nature of a journal voucher, and for what purpose is it used? 3. prepare a form of voucher to be accompanied by a separate check. 4. prepare a form of voucher check. 5. for what book is the voucher register substituted? what book is dispensed with? 6. explain the purpose of the _sundries_ and _unpaid voucher_ columns in the voucher register. 7. with what _controlling_ account must the total of unpaid vouchers as shown by the register, agree? explain the sources of debits and credits posted to this controlling account. 8. prepare a form of voucher register, suitable for a manufacturing business using three classes of raw material, operating five shops, and selling the product through traveling salesmen. 9. what are the necessary steps in _auditing_, _executing_, and _registering_ vouchers? how should audited vouchers be filed? 10. describe the routine in paying vouchers, and in filing invoices and paid vouchers. how should vouchers be indexed? 11. what is the distinguishing feature of the _unit system_ of voucher accounting? 12. if a voucher pays items to be charged to three accounts, how many copies are required and how is the distribution shown? 13. explain the method of filing and recording vouchers in the unit system. how are monthly totals recorded? 14. what routine should be followed to carry the totals to the ledger? 15. describe, and illustrate with the necessary forms, a system in which a purchase ledger and invoice file are combined. 16. what is a private ledger and for what purposes is it used? 17. name some of the special advantages of the private ledger. 18. describe, briefly, the operation of the private ledger, giving an example. 19. describe, and illustrate with journal entries, in what way a manufacturer can make use of the private ledger. 20. transactions of the following classes are recorded on the books of dane & whitney: purchases on account sales on account paid for rent paid dane's salary sales for cash whitney advanced cash to the business. what items, in the above, should be recorded in the private ledger? 21. in charting the accounts of a business, into what three main groups should they be divided? give an example of the subdivision of one of these groups. 22. prepare a chart of the accounts of a small trading business conducted by a partnership. explain this chart. 23. prepare a chart of the accounts of a manufacturing business making three classes of goods. 24. what are the principal characteristics of a chart of accounts of a manufacturing business? 25. using the above manufacturing chart, explain how profits are traced from group to group until they reach the surplus account. index a acceptances, 56 definition of, 11 accommodation note, definition of, 11 account books classes of, 42 definition of, 11 account current, definition of, 11 account sales, definition of, 11 accounting charts, 309-323 explanation of chart, 316 of manufacturing business, 313 of small trading business, 310 accounts classification of, 90 definition of, 11 merchandise, 71 merchandise inventory, 100 nominal, 70 personal, 69 profit and loss, 97 purchase, 71 real, 69 representative, 70 sales, 72 accrued interest, definition of, 12 acknowledgment, definition of, 12 ad valorem, definition of, 12 administrator, definition of, 12 adventure, definition of, 12 advice, definition of, 13 affidavit, definition of, 13 agent, definition of, 13 agreement, definition of, 13 allowance, definition of, 13 annual statement, definition of, 13 annuity, definition of, 13 antedate, definition of, 13 appraise, definition of, 14 appreciation, definition of, 14 approval sales, definition of, 14 arbitrate, definition of, 14 articles, definition of, 14 assets definition of, 14 fictitious, 78 fixed, 77 floating, 78 passive, 78 assign, definition of, 14 assignee, definition of, 14 assignment, definition of, 14 assignor, definition of, 14 association, definition of, 14 attachment, definition of, 14 audit, definition of, 14 auxiliary, definition of, 14 average, definition of, 14 b balance, definition of, 14, 39 balance sheet, 100, 139 definition of, 14 balance of trade, definition of, 15 bale, definition of, 15 bank balance, definition of, 15 bank deposits, 56 check books, 56 depositing cash, 57 indorsement of checks, 57 pass book, 57 signature card, 56 bank draft, definition of, 15 bank note, definition of, 15 bank pass book, definition of, 15 bankrupt, definition of, 15 bill, definition of, 15 bill of exchange, definition of, 16 bill head, definition of, 16 bill of lading, definition of, 16 bill of sale, definition of, 16 bills payable, definition of, 18 bills receivable, definition of, 18 bills receivable and bills payable, 54 blanks, definition of, 18 blotter, definition of, 18 bond liability, 239 bonded goods, definition of, 18 bonds, 238 classes of, 239 definition of, 18 expense of issue of, 241 interest on, 241 premium on, 241 bonus, definition of, 18 book account, definition of, 18 bookkeeping for corporation, 205 definition and objects of, 37 methods of, 39 brand, definition of, 18 broker, definition of, 18 brokerage, definition of, 18 bullion, definition of, 18 c call loans, definition of, 18 cancel, definition of, 18 capital, definition of, 18 capital of corporation, 199 capital stock, 199 definition of, 18 capitalization, 199 capital, 199 capital stock, 199 treasury stock, 200 watered stock, 201 cartage, definition of, 18 cash book, 43 posting from, 89 cash discounts, 94 allowed, 94 earned, 95 entering in cash book, 94 cash dividend, declaring, 224 cash sales, definition of, 18 center-ruled ledger, 143 certificate of stock, definition of, 18 certified check, definition of, 20 charges, definition of, 20 chart, definition of, 20 charter, definition of, 20 charting the accounts, 309 check, definition of, 20 check books, 56 clearing house, definition of, 20 closing an account, definition of, 20 collateral, definition of, 20 commercial abbreviations, 35 commercial paper, definition of, 20 commercial signs and characters, 37 commercial terms, dictionary of, 11 commission, definition of, 20 commission merchant, definition of, 20 common law, definition of, 20 common stock, definition of, 200 company, definition of, 20 compromise, definition of, 20 consideration, definition of, 22 consignee, definition of, 22 consul, definition of, 22 contingent assets and liabilities, definition of, 22 contingent fund, definition of, 22 contra, definition of, 22 contract, definition of, 22 conveyance, definition of, 22 copyright, definition of, 22 corporation accounts, 195-270 bonds, 238 bookkeeping, 205 changing books from partnership to corporation, 227 closing transfer books, 204 entries on corporation books, 228 entry of stock for promotion, 222 reserves and their treatment, 235 stock donated to employes, 229 when stock subscriptions are never full paid, 232 surplus and dividends, 223 treatment of loss, 225 corporation bookkeeping, 205 books required, 206 entries in stock books, 215 opening entries, 209 corporations capitalization, 199 classification of, 195 creation of, 197 definition of, 195 dividends, 203 management of, 201 corporations management of powers of corporations, 203 powers of directors and officers, 202 stockholders' rights, 203 stock certificate, 199 stockholders, 197 stock issued for promotion, 221 stock subscriptions, 201 counterfeit, definition of, 22 coupon, definition of, 22 coupon bond, definition of, 22 credentials, definition of, 22 credit, rules for, 38 creditor, definition of, 22 cumulative preferred stock, definition of, 200 currency, definition of, 22 d day book, 43 debenture, definition of, 22 debit definition of, 22 rules for, 38 deed, definition of, 22 defalcation, definition of, 22 deferred bonds, definition of, 23 delivery receipt definition of, 23 demand note, definition of, 23 departmental records, 148 deposit, definition of, 24 depositing cash, 57 depreciation, definition of, 24 discount, definition of, 24 discount and exchange, 56 discounts allowed, 94 dishonor, definition of, 24 dividend, 203 definition of, 24 dividend book, 208 dormant partners, 165 double entry, 39 advantages of, 40 books used in, 43 principle of, 40 doubtful, definition of, 25 draft definition of, 24 journalizing, 113 drawer, definition of, 25 drayage, definition of, 25 due bill, definition of, 25 dunning, definition of, 25 duplicate, definition of, 25 duty, definition of, 25 e earnest, definition of, 25 embezzlement, definition of, 25 exchange, definition of, 25 expense account, 80 heat and light, 81 insurance, 81 interest, 81 labor, 82 out freight and express, 81 rent, 81 salaries, 82 taxes, 81 exports, definition of, 25 extend, definition of, 25 f face value, definition of, 25 facsimile, definition of, 25 fictitious assets, example of, 78 advertising, 78 financial statement, definition of, 25 fiscal, definition of, 25 fixed assets definition of, 25 examples of, 77 furniture and fixtures, 77 horses and wagons, 77 real estate, 77 fixed charges, definition of, 26 fixtures, definition of, 26 floating assets, examples of, 78 accounts, 78 cash, 78 merchandise, 78 notes or bills receivable, 78 folio, definition of, 26 footing, definition of, 26 foreign exchange, definition of, 26 forms account sales, 12 acknowledgment, 13 adjustment journal and departmental purchase book, 154 balance sheet, 101 bill, 15 bill of exchange, 17 bill of lading, 16 bill of sale, 19 bills payable, 55 bills receivable, 55 cash book, 44, 131 cash book including bank account, 156 cash book with center column for particulars, 177 cash book with column for private ledger accounts, 306 cash disbursement book, 296 center-ruled ledger, 143, 157-161 certificate of stock, 21 chart of profit and loss accounts, 311, 312 check register, 260 classified ledger accounts, 180-188 closing entries, trading and profit and loss account, 140 combined purchase ledger and voucher system, 303 daily report, 247 day book, 43 day book or blotter, 121 delivery receipt, 24 demand note, 24 departmental sales book, 155, 178 departmental sales and purchase books, 179 draft, 25 endorsement, 58 file showing method of indexing vouchers, 293 installment certificate, 208 inventory sheet, 137 invoice register, 258 journal, 74 journal entries recording all transactions, 128-130 journal ruled retail ledger, 132-137 journal showing opening entries for partnership, 176 journal voucher for adjusting entries, 284 lease, 27 ledger accounts, classified, 180-188 ledger with journal ruling, 120 manufacturing account, 99 manufacturing ledger with closing entries, 320-322 merchandise inventory, 100 monthly recapitulation and distribution sheet, 303 opening entry in journal, 122 order, 29 order book, 42 pay-roll, 249 power of attorney, 32 profit and loss account, 99 promissory note, 31 proprietor's account, 99 purchase book, 75 purchase ledger, 267 receipt, 33 retail ledger, journal ruled, 132-137 sales book, 74 scale book, 144 signature card, 57 special account, 12 statement, 34 statement of incorporation on stock plan, 198 trading account, 98 transfer book, 206 trial balance, 138, 162, 269 unit system of voucher accounting, monthly recapitulation for, 300 voucher, 35 voucher, back of, showing distribution, 277 voucher with check attached, duplicate, 283 voucher check in loose-leaf form, duplicate, 280 voucher check that requires no folding, 280 voucher check, triplicate form of, 282 voucher and check combined, 278 voucher distribution sheet, 281 voucher register showing entries, 294 voucher registers, typical forms of, 286 voucher to be receipted and returned, 276 vouchers paid, card index of, 292 freight, definition of, 26 g gain, definition of, 26 gauging, definition of, 26 going business, definition of, 26 goodwill, definition of, 26 gross, definition of, 26 gross profit, transfer of, 99 guarantee or guaranty, definition of, 26 guaranteed stock, 200 h honor, definition of, 26 hypothecate, definition of, 26 i import, definition of, 26 income, definition of, 26 income bonds, definition of, 26 indemnity, definition of, 26 indorse, definition of, 26 indorsee, definition of, 26 indorsement of checks, 57 indorser, definition of, 28 infringe, definition of, 28 installment, definition of, 28 installment book, 207 insolvent, definition of, 28 instant, definition of, 28 insurance policy, definition of, 28 interest, definition of, 28 inventory, 137 definition of, 28 investment, definition of, 28 invoice, definition of, 28 invoice or bill, 46 j job lot, definition of, 28 jobber, definition of, 28 joint stock, definition of, 28 joint stock companies, 196 journal, 45 posting from, 88 journal vouchers, 283 journalizing drafts, 113 when we accept draft, 114 when discounting time draft, 114 when we pay an acceptance, 114 when we pay a sight draft, 114 when our sight draft is paid, 113 journalizing notes, 107 when collected by bank, 107 when discounted, 107 when discounted note is not paid, 109 when note drawing interest is discounted, 108 when note drawing interest is paid, 108 when note is past due, 109 when note is renewed, 110 when our note has been discounted, 111 when paid, 107 when received, 107 when renewed note has been discounted, 110 when we discount our note, 112 when we give or pay note, 111 when we pay for goods with our note, 112 when we pay our note with interest, 112 when we renew a note, 112 when we renew our discounted note, 113 journalizing, rules for, 82 l leakage, definition of, 28 lease, definition of, 28 ledger, 46 arrangement of accounts in, 91 ledger accounts, sample, 92, 93 ledger index, 47 legal tender, definition of, 28 lessee, definition of, 28 letter of advice, definition of, 28 letter of credit, definition of, 28 liabilities, definition of, 29 license, definition of, 29 liquidation, definition of, 29 loss and gain, definition of, 29 m maker, definition of, 29 manifest, definition of, 29 manufacturing account, 98 manufacturing and cost accounts, 242 accounts used factory assets, 243 factory expenses, 244 summary accounts, 245 balance ledger, 250 expense inventory, 250 expense liability, 250 manufacturing data, 256 pay-roll records, 248 routine followed, 245 sample transactions, 251 maturity, definition of, 29 mercantile agency, definition of, 29 merchandise, definition of, 29 merchandise account, 71 merchandise inventory account, 100 minute book, 207 money order, definition of, 29 monopoly, definition of, 29 mortgage, definition of, 29 mortgagor, definition of, 30 n negotiable, definition of, 30 net, definition of, 30 net profit, transfer of, 99 nominal, definition of, 30 nominal account, 70 nominal partners, 164 non-cumulative preferred stock, 200 notes, journalizing, 107 o obligation, definition of, 30 open account, definition of, 30 opening entries, definition of, 30 option, definition of, 30 order book, 43 orders, definition of, 30 original entry, definition of, 30 ostensible partners, 164 overdraw, definition of, 30 p par, definition of, 30 partnership, definition of, 30 partnership accounts, 164-193 capital and personal accounts, 165 closing the books, 166 division of profits, 191 illustration of closing entries, 166 interest on investment, 165 kinds of partners, 164 opening the books, 166 participation in profits, 165 partnership, defined, 164 partnership agreements, 164 sale of partnership, 189 sample transaction, 167-175 pass book, 57 passive assets, examples of, 73 goodwill, 78 patents, 78 speculative, 78 pay-roll records, 248 payee, definition of, 30 per annum, definition of, 30 per cent, definition of, 30 per diem, 30 personal accounts, 69 definition of, 30 personal property, definition of, 30 petty cash definition of, 30 treatment of, 58 post, definition of, 30 postdate, definition of, 30 posting, 46 from cash book, 89 from journal, 88 routine, 88 power of attorney, definition of, 30 preferred stock, definition of, 30, 200 premium, definition of, 31 present worth, definition of, 31 private ledger, 304 advantages of, 304 how operated, 305 manufacturing accounts in, 306 proceeds, definition of, 31 profit and loss, definition of, 31 profit and loss account, 97 manufacturing, 98 trading, 97 transfer of gross profit, 99 transfer of net profit, 99 turnover, 98 promissory notes, 54 acceptance, 56 bill book, 54 bills payable, 54 bills receivable, 54 definition of, 31 discount and exchange, 56 promotion, stock issued for, 221 pro rata, definition of, 31 protest, definition of, 31 purchase account, 71 purchase book, 45 purchase ledger and invoice file combined, 301 q quotation, definition of, 31 r ratify, definition of, 31 raw material, definition of, 31 real account, 69 real estate, definition of, 31 rebate, definition of, 31 receipt, definition of, 31, 273 receiver, definition of, 31 recording transactions, 46 remittance, definition of, 31 renewal note, definition of, 33 rent, definition of, 33 representative account, 70 reserves for bad debts, 236 reserves for buildings in hazardous undertakings, 236 reserves for depreciation, 236 reserve funds, 237 reserves for patents, franchise, goodwill, 236 reserves for permanent improvements on leased property, 236 resources, definition of, 33 retail business, 119 balance sheet, 139 books used, 119 closing the books, 138 exercise, 141 inventory, 137 opening the books, 119 proprietor's account, 120 sample transactions, 123-127 statements, 120 retail coal books, 142 sample transaction, 144 uncollectible accounts, 143 revenue, definition of, 33 revenue accounts, 80 revenue receipts, 80 revoke, definition of, 33 royalty, definition of, 33 s sale of stock below par, 205 sales, 72 sales books, 45 sales tickets, 147 sample ledger accounts, 91 sample transactions, 72, 83, 101, 149 schedule, definition of, 33 secret partners, 164 sight draft, definition of, 33 signature card, 56 silent partners, 164 single entry, 39 single proprietorship accounts, 119-163 sinking funds, 237 solvent, definition of, 33 statement, definition of, 33 stock certificate book, 206 stock dividends, 204 declaring, 224 stock ledger, 207 stock register, 208 stock subscriptions, 201 stock transfer book, 206 stockholders, 197 definition of, 33 meetings of, 205 rights of, 203 storage, definition of, 33 surety, definition of, 33 syndicate, definition of, 33 surplus subdivided, 223 t tare, definition, 33 tariff, definition of, 33 terms, definition of, 33 theory of accounts, 11-116 three-column journal, 82 tickler, definition of, 34 time draft, definition of, 34 trade discount, definition of, 34 trade mark, definition of, 34 trading account, 97 transactions, 46 ledger index, 47 posting, 46 sample, 47, 59, 72, 83, 101, 149 treasury stock, 200 trial balance, 90 turnover, 98 u ultimo, definition of, 34 unit system of voucher account, 298 v valid, definition of, 34 value received, definition of, 34 void, definition of, 35 voucher checks, 279 voucher file, 293 voucher register, 284 voucher system of accounting, 273-303 auditing of invoices, 290 combined purchase ledger and invoice file, 301 demonstration of, 293 executing and registering vouchers, 290 filing audited vouchers, 290 filing paid vouchers, 291 indexing vouchers, 292 operation of, 289 paying vouchers, 291 unit system of, 298 voucher file, 293 vouchers definition, 35, 273 filing, 290 forms of, 277 indexing, 292 paying, 291 use of, 274 w warehouse, definition of, 35 warehouse receipt, definition of, 35 warranty, definition of, 35 watered stock, 201 way bill, definition of, 35 wholesale, definition of, 35 working capital, definition of, 35 transcriber's note -obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected. the barrier a novel by allen french author of "the colonials" [illustration] new york doubleday, page & company 1904 copyright, 1904, by doubleday, page & company published, may, 1904 to c. e. s. and s. p. s. contents chapter page i. the statement of the case 3 ii. which enlarges the stage 10 iii. sets the ball to rolling 21 iv. an understanding 26 v. various points of view 32 vi. introducing an eccentric 41 vii. chebasset 52 viii. the progress of acquaintance 65 ix. new ideas 75 x. drawn both ways 83 xi. an incident at the mill 92 xii. forwards various affairs 102 xiii. which is in some respects unsatisfactory 114 xiv. mr. pease intrudes upon a secret 123 xv. which develops the colonel's financial strategy 130 xvi. something new 145 xvii. which deals with several of our personages 155 xviii. judith buys a typewriter 163 xix. "put money in thy purse" 175 xx. the power of suggestion 182 xxi. ellis takes his last step but one 194 xxii. haroun al raschid 206 xxiii. plain language 218 xxiv. bringing about an understanding 224 xxv. the colonel gives up his luxuries 235 xxvi. in which judge harmon enters the story 242 xxvii. in which judge harmon leaves the story 250 xxviii. judith binds herself 255 xxix. knowledge of new things 263 xxx. time begins his revenges 275 xxxi. brings about two new combinations 286 xxxii. which is in some respects satisfactory 295 xxxiii. contains another proposal of marriage, and settles an old score 307 list of characters _in the order of their mention_ stephen f. ellis, promoter and political boss. george mather, a young business man. judith blanchard, of the social set. mrs. harmon, who has risen by her marriage. judge abiel harmon, advanced in years. colonel blanchard, judith's father. beth, his remaining daughter. mr. price, the fashionable jeweller. mr. fenno, head of one of the old families. mr. pease, a banker. jim wayne, of the social set. mr. daggett, a supporter of ellis. miss jenks, mather's stenographer. stock, a labor agitator. the barrier chapter i the statement of the case there is a certain circle so well-to-do that it is occupied chiefly in guarding its property and maintaining its exclusiveness. there is a city so small, politically, that it is buttoned in one man's pocket. the second of these is the direct consequence of the first. leading families lead little except the cotillion, parvenus crowd in, and things are done at which no gentleman will soil his gloves. in the course of time, such a community might develop a strong active class and a superb set of figureheads, if only the two sorts would let each other alone. but the one will envy and the other sneer; the one will long for ornament and the other will meddle. a desire to sparkle meets the desire to appear to do, or at times encounters the genuine longing to do. dirty hands will wish to be clean; clean hands must have a little honest dirt. the city of stirling lies in new england; it is one among those which look to boston for supplies and to new york for fashions. its history goes back to colonial times: hence those beautiful estates in the residential section and the air of pride in the scions of the old families. these said scions collect much rent and control much water-power, yet an inquirer imbued with the modern spirit might ask them to give an account of themselves. their forefathers settled the country, fought in the revolution, and helped to build the nation and the state, but now people whisper of degeneration. in the old city modern men have risen to power, control the franchises, manage the local government, and are large in the public eye. or perhaps it is more accurate to say that one man does this. ellis the promoter, stephen f. ellis, has grown from nothing to everything, has consolidated businesses, mastered the city affairs, holds all the reins, pulls all the wires. the reform politicians have never harmed him. the fashionable people, according to their wont, for years have avoided publicity and let things go. the man among them who, in a generation, alone has ventured into the field of thoroughly modern enterprise, has failed signally, though most gallantly, and in the prime of his youth stands amid the ruins of a career. the very honour which was his inheritance brought him low. he had been a contrast to ellis in the openness of his methods and the rapidity of his success. to organise all the street-railways of his city, to force his personality upon the stockholders of three lines, and to weld the old clumsy systems into one efficient whole--that was george mather's achievement. to be head and shoulders above all others of his years as the street-railway president, yes, and as the man in whom the reform politicians built their best hopes--that was his pride, and his class was proud of him. but his strength was his weakness, for he used no trickery and he kept his word. therefore by a business stroke undertaken against him in the face of an agreement, a method not so analogous to a stab in the back as to the adroit administering of poison in a loving-cup, mather was upon a certain spring morning, at a certain stock-holders' meeting, by a small but neat majority voted out of office, and stood robbed of the best fruits of his labours. those who saw him that afternoon upon the golf-course marvelled as he played his match with the precision of a machine. had the man no nerves? but though thus he proved--to others, not to himself--that he could bear misfortune without flinching, it was with unspeakable relief that at last he slipped away into an empty corner of the club-house, whence he could hear only the buzz of the saturday crowd on the grounds outside. the tension of the last few hours relaxed suddenly, and now that he was freed from the gaze of others he gave way almost to despair. the silver cup which he had won he tossed upon the table, and dropping his clubs upon the floor he threw himself into a chair. beaten! to have stood so high in the little city, to fall so suddenly, and to lose so much! true, he had made money; he had gained the support of the rich men of his class, who had assured him that they would wait their chance to set him again in his place. but it was ellis who had seized that place: when had ellis ever given up anything which he had gained? yet it was not mather's fall, nor the hurt to his pride, nor even the loss of the chance to carry out his plans, which shook him most, but the danger to still dearer hopes. and the young man, almost groaning, dropped his head upon his breast. a girl entered the room suddenly, and stood startled at the sight of him, but she was not heard. she wished to withdraw, yet feared to rouse him, and his deep frown fascinated her. staring downward, scowling with his thoughts, his face had at first expressed anger, but now showed pain. judith, too, he was thinking--had she changed to him? when he hurried to her after this morning's meeting, so soon as he could free himself from his friends, already she had heard the news. she had not let him speak with her alone, but though she must have known his wish she kept her father in the room. if with her ambitions she felt disappointed in him, if she rejected him--well, he could bear even that! the girl who was watching saw his expression change to determination, and then suddenly he roused himself. no one should find him brooding. as he raised his eyes from the carpet she turned to escape, but he saw her and sprang to his feet. "judith!" she stopped; perceiving her desire he added: "don't let me keep you." then she came to him directly. "i thought you were outdoors. every one was congratulating you; the club has never seen such golf. it was splendid!" he smiled, indifferent to the praise, and picking up the cup from the table, looked at it carelessly. "only for that." "and jim wayne would give his head for it," she said. disdainfully, he shifted the cup into his palm, and with a single effort crushed it out of shape. "see," and he meant to personify himself, "it is only silver; it lacks strength." "ah," she answered, "don't be bitter. come, forget the street-railroad, forget you ever were its president, forget everything except your friends." "judith," he returned with meaning, "can _you_ forget what i have lost?" she drew back, flushing. "george!" "oh," he cried, "i know i am rude! but to-day when i came to see you, you knew what had happened to me. if ever i needed comfort it was then, and you knew it. there was only one consolation that would help me, and you knew that, but you denied me. judith, have i lost my chance with you?" she flushed, as if conscience drove home a rebuke. "i did not mean to be unkind." but then she looked about uneasily, at the door at her back, and at the curtains which shut off the adjoining room. "i--i think i must go." "no," he protested. "let us have it out; no one is near. give me my sentence, judith. you know i've loved you for years. it was for you i built up the railroad; you are the impelling cause of all my work. this winter i thought i had pleased you. is there any hope for me?" he spoke without a tremor of the voice, but he clenched his hands as he waited for her answer, and his eyes were eager. before them she dropped her own. "not now," she answered. "tell me," he asked almost gently, "why you have changed." she stood silent, with her eyes still downcast, but her mouth grew harder. "no, don't explain," he said quickly. "i understand. i understood when i left your house to-day. judith, don't you know that i have learned to read you? this morning i was beaten, and you require of a man that he shall succeed." her eyes flashed up at him. "well," she demanded, "and if i do? can i be different from what i am?" "we make ourselves," he replied. her defiance was brief, and she asked earnestly: "why have you let me plague you so? choose again, some softer woman." "my choice is fixed," he answered simply. "then at least," she said, "we will remain friends?" his face cleared, and he smiled. "so far as you permit." "but without enthusiasm," she reproached him. "ah, judith," he answered, "you know you don't require it." "and we won't speak of this again?" she asked. "just these last words," he said. "remember that this defeat is not the end of me; i shall yet give an account of myself." she saw how resolute were his eyes, but then his look again became gentle as he added: "and this, too. the world fascinates you. but judith, it is very big, and strong, and merciless!" was it not a beaten man who spoke? she answered, "i do not fear it," and studied him to find his meaning. but with a steadiness which allowed no further show of feeling he replied: "if ever you do, then turn to me." they finished without words of parting; she quitted him abruptly, he took up the caddy-bag and stuffed the ruined cup in among the clubs. though she paused an instant at the door, there was nothing more to be said. regretfully he watched her go: bright, fearless, and inquisitive as she was, where was her nature leading her? he knew her restless energy, and at the moment feared for her more than for himself. as for her, he had pricked her deeply by his warning. the world would never be too much for her. let it be however big and strong, she admired it, must learn about it! she would never cry for mercy. the thought did not cross her mind that he knew the world better than she, that although defeated he was more its master. at twenty-three one is confident. and as for his charge that she thought less of him, she told herself that it was not his disaster that separated them. rather it was the quality which the disaster had but emphasised in him--the self-confidence, real or counterfeit, with which he had always assumed that he could go his own way in making a home in which to take care of her. how he mistook her! she did not ask for safety from the world; it was the key to her whole character that she wished to be more than a mere comfort to a man. should she ever accept a husband, she must be an active rather than a passive element in his strength, counselling, inspiring, almost leading him. between herself and mather there was an unremitting conflict of will. she left the club-house, and went out upon the lawn with her cheeks a little redder than usual, her black eye brighter, her head held still more high. men came instantly about her--young men eager to please. but with her thoughts still busy, she measured them and found them lacking; they had never done anything--they had not yet arrived. the most masterly of them all she had left in the club-house, and he, after climbing to high place, had fallen. was it possible that the only men of power were older still? then she progressed to a still more searching question. could this vapid and ambitionless assembly produce real men? chapter ii which enlarges the stage on the day which brought to mather his two crushing defeats, the cause of them, ellis, that type of modern success, openly embarked upon his latest and his strangest venture. not satisfied with his achievements, and burning with the desire for recognition, he, whose power was complete in every part of the city save one, turned to that quarter where alone he had met indifference, and began his campaign against the citadel of fashion. the guests at the golf-club tea were somewhat startled when, at the side of their latest parvenue, whose bold beauty and free ways they had not yet learned to tolerate, they perceived the man whose characteristics--a short figure and large head, thinly bearded, with sharp features and keen eyes--were known to all students of contemporary caricature. ellis was received with the coolness which his companion had foreseen. "they won't like it, stephen," she had said when he proposed the undertaking to her. "so soon after this morning, i mean; you know mr. mather is very popular." "i'll take the risk," he answered. "i don't see why you bother," she went on. "it's been easy enough for me, marrying the judge, to go where i please--and yet it's a continual struggle, after all. it isn't such fun as you'd think, from outside." he scowled a partial acquiescence. living near the social leaders, it had been an earlier hope that to be their neighbour would open to him their doors. he had built himself that imposing edifice upon the main street of fashion, so that where the simple georgian mansion of the waynes had stood the gothic gorgeousness of a french château forced attention. but in spite of the money he lavished there, it had not taken ellis long to discover that the widow wayne, who was his neighbour still (having refused to part with the original homestead of the family), had more honour in her little clapboarded cottage than he in his granite pile. the widow's son, who nodded so carelessly to ellis when they met, and yet was but a broker's clerk, had with his youth and grace a more valuable possession still--his name. sometimes ellis felt it almost too exasperating to live among these people and be ignored by them, yet he gritted his teeth and stayed, thinking that perseverance must win in the end, and perceiving that from the midst of his enemies he might best plan his campaign. he spun his webs with unconquerable patience, studying the social news with the same keenness which he brought to the stock-market reports, and looking ahead to a possible combination which would give him the opportunity he desired. and now he believed that at last he actually saw his chance, and his hopes were rising. "maybe i'm a fool," he said, "but by gad i'll at least have one look inside, and see what others find there. i notice that you worked hard enough to get in, and now you work to stay. but, lydia, if you want to keep these people to yourself----" "the idea!" she cried. "you are welcome to them." "or if you think i shall hurt your position----" he paused for a second disclaimer, but none came; his directness had confused her, and he knew he had struck near the truth. "anyhow," he finished, "you promised me this long ago, and i'll keep you to the bargain." now she, the maker of this promise to ellis, was the wife of judge abiel harmon, whose ancient family, high position, and fine character were everywhere honoured. nevertheless, ellis was able to regard her as his entering wedge, for they had been boy and girl together in the same little town. while yet in his teens he went to try his chances in the city; years afterward, when her ripe charms had captivated the old judge, she found her fortune and followed. when she met ellis again their social positions were widely different, but interest drew the two together, and though the judge had no liking for ellis, he did not inquire what mrs. harmon did with her leisure; therefore she maintained with the promoter an intimacy which to them both promised profit. to him the first advantage was this visit to the golf club, but while on inspection of the crowd he knew he could buy up any member of it at a fair valuation, they did not appear to like him the better for that, and their groups melted marvellously before him. as a relief, mrs. harmon took him to the club-house, but the dreary promenade through its rooms, where her vocabulary was exhausted and her enthusiasm lapsed, became at last an evident failure. when she had said all that she could of the conveniences of the lower floor she led him to the stairs. "if you care to go up," she suggested, "the bedrooms might interest you." but she looked out on the lawn through the open door, and longed to be there. the chattering groups called to every instinct of her nature; she wished to get rid of this encumbrance--to hand him over to any one and take her pleasure as she was used. and ellis, too, looked out through the doorway. "up-stairs is more likely to be stupid," he said bluntly. "let's go outdoors again." in mrs. harmon's relief, she did not notice the characteristic which he displayed in this answer. ellis was a fighter; power was all very well, but the winning of it was better. just now he was like alexander before india--looking upon a domain which must be his, and eager for the struggle. these people, and they alone, could put the capstone to the pyramid of his successes, and could lend glamour, if not give glory, to that wholly material structure. he would force them to it! watching society disport itself, he regarded it as his natural prey. that assemblage was characterised by a suavity which deceived him; as he viewed the throng it seemed all mildness, all amiability. he did not appreciate the power of resistance of the apparently soft people. and yet he had learned that money was not the effective weapon he had once supposed it. the arrogance of possession was against him, and though he did not understand the subtle reasons for his exclusion, he was sure that something besides a golden key was needed to open those doors. it was not in ellis to remake himself, nor did he try to change his ways. as when he faced the difficulty of buying the city government, he merely studied human weaknesses. the former experience had taught him that men are easier bribed without money than with, and that there are some passions, some ambitions, which do not include financial ease. moreover, he had formed his plan; it was time to make the attempt. "miss judith blanchard--she is here?" he asked. mrs. harmon looked at him in surprise. did he wish to meet a girl? so far she had conducted the enterprise, and since their entrance on the grounds had tried to help him by introductions to the older people. but the experiment had failed, and he had no intention of repeating it. "why, she is here," she answered in doubt. "then introduce me to her," he directed brusquely. oh, if he wished! mrs. harmon was not pleased to be so ordered; she was not at all satisfied with her day. it was very troublesome, this trying to introduce ellis. the manner of mrs. watson had been more distant than ever, while as for mrs. william fenno, her behaviour had been arctic. mrs. harmon cared for no further snubs, but if ellis wished to run the risk of the meeting--well, judith would fix him! not pausing to watch the process, mrs. harmon presented ellis to the young lady and escaped to her own enjoyments. ellis was where he had many times imagined himself, standing before judith blanchard, while the young men fell away on either side. he was meeting her glance, he was seeing for himself the "queenly form," the "regal head" (_vide_ the social columns of the _herald_), and he was experiencing at close hand the influence of her personality. it was magnetic even to him, for on hearing his name she turned quickly, looked him straight in the eye, and offered him her hand almost as a man would have done. when she spoke her voice had not the artificial tones of the women he had so far met; it had a genuine ring. "so you are mr. ellis?" "you know of me, then?" he asked. "every one has heard of you, even girls," she replied. any one might have said this, but not with her look, not with that bright glance. she asked another question, which showed to those who listened her interest in the man. "you have settled the water-works affair?" john trask turned and strolled away; will mayne bowed to miss blanchard and silently betook himself elsewhere; ripley fenno mumbled a request to be excused, and left miss blanchard alone with her new acquaintance. within five minutes, five times as many people were watching the pair curiously, but absorbed in a new interest, they did not notice. "what do you know," he asked her, "about the water-works?" but she pursued her own inquiries. "or does the street-railway not take up your time? or perhaps," she added boldly, "the court-house has no need of the services of its contractor." now the boldness of this last remark consisted in the reminder of a certain scandal, public-minded citizens (of whom the chief was judge harmon) claiming that there had been boodlery in the recent repairs of the court-house. it was more than hinted that ellis had backed the contractors, and that he had shared the profits. his face changed, therefore, as she spoke, and she saw in his eyes a sudden gleam--of anger? "or," she asked quickly, "have i misread the papers, and you are not the contractor, after all?" he was himself again, although looking--staring, almost--with deeper interest. at first he said no more than "i am not the contractor," but to himself he was crying: success! he believed she had provoked him deliberately; he saw that she had studied his doings, for the court-house affair was almost a year old, the water-works deal occurred months ago, and the street-railway _coup_ was of this very day. "how much you know of matters!" he cried. "i read the newspapers," she explained, "and with an object." "an object?" he asked. "i want to know what is going on," she explained. "i want to have to do with real things. i am interested in the doings of _men_, mr. ellis." and she made him a little bow, which he, still staring, made no attempt to answer. then she turned, and walked toward a more open space where people could not, as they were beginning to do, press around them. "will you not come and see the grounds?" she asked. in great satisfaction he kept at her side. so this was judith blanchard! he had not believed it, had laughed at himself for hoping it, but she was what he had imagined her. months of study had gone to make up his opinion of her; he had read of her, heard of her, watched her. quick, impetuous, somewhat impatient of conventions--that was judith. "do you know," she asked suddenly, "that we have met before? in a street-car, not a fortnight ago, we rode facing each other for quite a while. i remember meeting your eye." he had recalled it many times. "i hope i didn't look too much at you," he said. "you must be used to having people watch you." "oh, please don't compliment," she interrupted, "or you will spoil my idea of you. i imagine you a man who thinks to the point, and speaks so, too. yes, people do watch me wherever i go; they give me flattery, and think i love it. but if you and i are to be friends----" "friends!" he exclaimed involuntarily. "are you not willing?" "willing!" he repeated. "miss blanchard, you offer what i had not dared to hope one person here would think of in connection with me. i----" he looked at her searchingly. "you are not teasing me?" "i used a strong word," she said. "then you did not mean it?" "why," she endeavoured to explain, "i spoke hastily. i have few friends." "few friends? you?" "yes, i," she answered. "among the men, i mean. those of my age are so"--and she smiled--"so young! i am not posing, mr. ellis." nor was she. her interest in the great world was genuine, even if ill-balanced. ruled by it, she looked into men and discovered, not how much there was in them, but how little they had for her. the good, the amiable, the well-intentioned, had none of them enough backbone to suit her; it was power that she wished to find. always among respectable people, she was often impatient at their mediocrity; always among young people, she was tired by their immaturity. this day she had for the first time questioned if older people of another class had not more for her; she had been repeating the question at the moment when ellis was presented. and now, without pose, she scrutinised him with frank question: was he one who could bring an interest into her life and let her see the workings of the world? and he knew she was not posing. "it is sometimes troublesome to be friends with people," he said. "to be bound to them, to have considerations of them prevent free action--that is what friends mean in business." "and you have few, as well?" "i have dependents." he spoke wisely, for the term struck her. dependents! she had felt isolation, but it was that of the looker-on. there was something regal in this man's loneliness, for that he was lonely she divined. "people need you," she said with approval. "they cannot get along without you. oh!" she exclaimed, "i have sometimes thought what power is in the hands of such men as you. you can mould a whole community; you can set your mark on a city so that it will tell of you forever." behind a steady face he concealed astonishment and question. "you can do so much good!" she finished. "much good--yes," he returned uncertainly. such enthusiasm was new to him, especially when applied to what the opposition newspapers bluntly called "jobs." he perceived that where he saw only money in his enterprises, judith saw great opportunities. "yes, much good--if we can only do it. where there is power there is also responsibility. how can a man know whether he is doing the right thing, especially"--and he smiled--"when all the newspapers say he is doing wrong?" "a man must follow his conscience," she replied, so gravely that he was uncomfortable, for, thus innocently spoken, her words carried a sting. he tried to finish the subject, and by his usual method--by meeting it directly. "a man works as he can," he said, "doing what seems best. he has to think of the present, but as you seem to know, he works for the future too. it is an interesting life and a busy one." "interesting?" she echoed. "oh, it must be! why should it not be all-sufficient? why should you come here?" he stared at her again, and she asked: "what have we that can interest you?" he answered with a simplicity that was almost great, an acknowledgment of his desires which was unparalleled in his career, but which meant that without hesitation he put himself in her hands, to betray if she wished, but perhaps to save. he waved his hand toward the groups behind him. "i want to get in," he said. "to get in?" she smiled, and he doubted. "to get in, when i sometimes wish to get out? in here it's so dull!" "i don't care for that," he replied. "sit down, then," she directed. "let us talk it over." seated on a bench, half-facing, each had a moment to consider. she did not take it; he did, for he was beginning to recover himself and to study her. beauty and grace, with that direct glance and genuine voice, were her chief outward characteristics. of her inward motives, most prominent appeared her desire for something new; more strong, perhaps, was her interest in matters beyond her sphere. this interest of hers was to him a gift of fortune; it might bring him anywhere. but to judith this situation was new; therefore she enjoyed it. she paused no longer than to consider what she should ask him next, and then pursued the subject. "how have you meant to go about it?" she inquired. "why," he hesitated, "my friends----" "what friends?" he acknowledged frankly: "i have but one--mrs. harmon." "oh, only mrs. harmon?" only! the tone and the word struck him. was mrs. harmon, then, not fully in? his mind reached forward blankly: who else could help him? "but you must know some of our men," she suggested. "business acquaintances, yes," he said. "yet they take care that i shall remain a business acquaintance merely. no, i must reach the men through the women." "and the women?" she asked. "how will you reach them? mrs. fenno, for instance, knows only one kind; she is iron against innovation. how will you get on her list, or mrs. watson's, or mrs. branderson's?" he did not answer. she saw that he was biting on the problem, and that it did not please him. she made a positive statement. "no. it is the men you must rely on." and he, weighing the facts, believed her, though it went against his former notions. the women--this day he had first seen them at close quarters, and had felt them to be formidable creatures. the severe majesty of mrs. fenno--how could he impress it? and mrs. branderson had, beneath the good humour of her reception of him, the skill to chat easily, and then to turn her back without excuse. he bit his mustache--the women! she was watching him with a half-smile. "do you not agree?" "but which men, then?" he inquired. "have you no influence over a single one?" "there is young mather," he said thoughtfully. her manner changed; she drew a little more within herself, and he noted the difference in her tone as she asked: "you have some connection with him?" "none," he said. "but i can help him." "how?" "he is out of work," ellis explained. "he will be fretting his heart out for something to do. i could offer him some position." "do!" she said. "he is right here.--george!" she called. chapter iii sets the ball to rolling no young man can bear to sit down idly under misfortune; but though the chief results of mather's work were lost to him, and his great plans--his subway--swept away, and though his defeat rankled, he had not suspected personal feeling in ellis's action. the promoter had merely stretched out his hand and taken, repudiating the pledges of those who spoke in his name. therefore, in spite of the little shock which mather felt when he saw ellis with judith, he came forward and greeted politely. it was a chance, of course, to "get back"; it would have been easy to express surprise at the promoter's presence, and to ask how he liked the club now that he really was there. mather felt the temptation, but there was too much behind his relations with ellis for the younger man to be rude, and he presently found himself saying: "i don't suppose you play golf, mr. ellis?" "no," ellis answered. this was the first man who had greeted him freely that day, and yet the one who most might feel resentment. while his manner showed that he was about to speak again, ellis looked the other over with a smile which concealed deliberation. it was not weakness that made mather mild, in spite of mrs. harmon's belief, to which she clung the more because the judge rejected it. "i knew his father," her husband had told her. "they are bulldogs in that stock." ellis took much the same view; once, at the beginning of his career, he had encountered mather's father, and had found him a bulldog indeed. the son seemed the same in so many respects that ellis wondered if he had thought quite long enough in seizing this morning's opportunity. he knew well that mather would be stronger when next he entered the arena; besides, the reform politicians, those bees who buzzed continually and occasionally stung, had been after the young man, who, with the leisure to enter politics, might be formidable. thus ellis, hesitating, ran over the whole subject in his mind; and then, as he knew how to do, plunged at his object. "mr. mather, i am sorry for what happened this morning." "fortune of war," returned the other. the young man certainly had a right to be bitter if he chose, judging, at least, by the usual conduct of victims. mather's peculiarity in this did not escape ellis, who spoke again with some hope of forgiveness. "i trust that you and i may some day work together." "i scarcely expect it," was the answer. "don't say that." ellis was not sure what tone to adopt, but did his best. "this is not the place to speak of it, perhaps, but there is surely something i can do for you." "now that you have nothing to do, you know," said judith. mather turned to her; he saw how she had put herself on ellis's side; how her interest in this offer was due to ellis, not to himself. and the reminder of his defeat was most unwelcome. "since this morning," he said, "i have been offered three positions." "oh!" cried judith. the involuntary note of surprise showed how she had underrated him, and mather bit his lip. ellis spoke. "if you will take a position on the street-railroad----" "nothing subordinate there!" cut in mather very positively. "then," said ellis, "if you care to be the head of the water company----" "oh!" judith exclaimed before ellis had completed his offer. "such an opportunity!" mather himself looked at ellis in surprise. it was an opening which, coming from any other source, he would have accepted eagerly, as a task in which he could give free play to all his powers. did ellis really mean it? but the promoter, having swiftly asked himself the same question, was sure of his own wisdom. the place needed a man: here was one. besides, ellis would have given much to tie mather to him. "i mean it," he said positively. "you must accept," added judith. it was too much for mather to bear. his defeat by ellis and his loss of judith--both of these he could sustain as separate calamities. but when he saw her thus siding with his victor, mather forgot himself, forgot that ellis was not a man to defy lightly, and spoke the impolitic truth. "i could not work with mr. ellis under any circumstances!" "george!" cried judith hotly. then there was silence as the men looked at each other. had judith been the woman that in her weaker moments she was pleased to think herself, she would have studied the two. but she was neither cool nor impartial; she had put her feelings on ellis's side, and looked at mather with indignation. she missed, therefore, the pose of his head and the fire of his eye. she missed as well the narrowing of ellis's eyes, the forward stretch of his thin neck--snaky actions which expressed his perfect self-possession, and his threat. neither of them spoke, but judith did as she turned away. "you are very rude," she said coldly. "come, mr. ellis, let us walk again." ellis followed her; mather stood and watched them walk away. "it was shameful of him," said judith when she and ellis were out of hearing. "he is young," remarked the other. he was watching her now, as he had watched mather, out of narrow eyes. mather's words meant a declaration of interest in judith, confirming gossip. she was supposed to have refused him, and yet she was biting her lip--would she be quite so moved if mather had not the power to do it? ellis promised himself that he would remember this. "he will know better some day," he said. "but at least he is out of the question. can you not suggest some one else?" "there is mr. pease," she answered. pease and himself--oil and water! how little she knew! and he almost laughed. but he answered meditatively: "he is very--set." "i see my father is coming for me," she said. "let me ask you this, then," he begged quickly. "may i come to see you--at your house?" "i am afraid not--yet," she answered. she was not ungracious, and continued with much interest: "but mr. ellis, i shall be so anxious to hear how it all goes. i am sorry i cannot help you with the men, but the principle is [she thought of mather] choose the weak ones, not the strong. here is my father. father, this is mr. ellis." colonel blanchard was affable. "how de do?" he said breezily. "fine day for the match, mr. ellis." "a very fine day," answered ellis, pleased by the way in which the colonel looked at him; blanchard seemed interested, like his daughter. but judith thought that the conversation had best end there. "the carriage has come?" she asked. "yes," answered the colonel. "beth is in it, waiting for us. you know she goes out to dinner." he begged ellis to excuse them, and so carried his daughter away. ellis looked after them; these two, at least, had treated him well. the colonel had stared with almost bourgeois interest, as if impressible by wealth and power. ellis mused over the possibility of such a thing. "the weak," he said, repeating judith's words. "the weak, not the strong." then mrs. harmon swooped down on him. "here you are," she said petulantly. "everybody's going. let us go too." chapter iv an understanding mrs. harmon was very petulant; indeed, her aspect in one of lower station would have been deemed sulky. reviewing the afternoon, she was convinced that to have brought ellis there was a great mistake. why should she take up with him, anyway? he could give her nothing but--trinkets; the old acquaintance was not so close that she was bound to help him. it had been condescension on her part; she might as well stop it now; yes, she might as well. yet she thought with some uneasiness of those trinkets. to accept them had not bound her to him, had it? their money value was nothing to him. she could break from him gradually--that would be simple enough--and she could make a beginning on the drive home, for silence could show her feelings. ellis understood her after one glance, which expressed not only his impatience with her instability, but also a sudden new repulsion. the afternoon had opened his eyes to what the finer women were. how could he have supposed that mrs. harmon was really in the inner circle? how she contrasted with judith! she seemed so flat beside the girl; she was his own kind, while judith was better. he wished that he might drop the woman and pin his hopes to the girl. but he could not spare mrs. harmon, and he had no fear that she would drop him, for he knew all her weaknesses. she was ambitious to a certain degree, but after that, lazy; she was fond of comfort, fond of--trinkets, with a healthy indifference to ways and means. in fact, although ellis did not so phrase it, there was a barbaric strain in her, a yearning for flesh-pots and show, in which her husband's tastes and means did not permit her to indulge herself. ellis knew that he could manage her. "lydia," he said, "i want to thank you for the afternoon. it must have been a great bother to you. i'm afraid i spoiled your fun." she could but respond. "oh, not much." "look here," he went on. "you know me, i think; we understand each other pretty well. these people," and he waved his hand to include the whole golf club, "are not to be too much for us. do you mind my saying a few words about myself?" "oh, no!" she exclaimed with involuntary interest; for he seldom spoke his thoughts. "that girl, miss blanchard," he said, "was very good to me." "she was?" mrs. harmon could not subdue an accent of surprise, but hastened to explain. "i've sometimes found her haughty." "i shan't forget you introduced me to her," said ellis. "i mean to follow up my acquaintance there." "no girl," suggested mrs. harmon, "has much influence. no unmarried woman, i mean." "but when miss blanchard marries she will have it then?" "yes," answered mrs. harmon thoughtfully, and then very positively: "yes, i think she would be a leader of the younger set." "i am sure she would." ellis nodded confidently. judith had faults, notably rashness, but under wise guidance she could develop masterly qualities. "but why----" began mrs. harmon in some perplexity. then she caught sight of her companion's expression. "what! you don't mean to say that you--you would?" "why not?" asked ellis. "is it so very strange?" "you are over forty!" cried mrs. harmon. "nothing to do with the case," he replied shortly. "n-no," agreed mrs. harmon slowly. "no, i believe not--not with judith." she looked at her companion with sudden respect. "i believe you've hit upon it! i didn't know you thought of anything of the kind." "i need you, just the same," said ellis. "you will help me?" "yes, yes," she replied. she felt a nervous inclination to giggle. "it's a big affair." "all the more credit if you engineer it," he answered, and shrewdly, for she felt stimulated. if _she_ could engineer it! then she could plume herself in the face of mrs. fenno, and would always have a strong ally in judith. "yes," she cried eagerly, "it will mean a great deal to--to everybody if it happens. why, i could----" but ellis would not let her run on. "do you know her well?" he interrupted. "i will know her better soon," she stated. "not too quick," he warned, fearing that she might blunder. "you know yourself that she is not a girl to be hurried. tell me, now, what men are there of her family?" "only her father." "and what sort of man is he?" mrs. harmon's vocabulary was not wide. "why, spreading," she explained. "jaunty, you know." "and his circumstances?" "he is well off," she answered. "keeps a carriage and spends freely. there was money in the family, and his wife had some too. you know how those old fortunes grow." or disappear, thought ellis; he had been investigating the colonel's standing. "miss blanchard has no cousins?" he asked aloud. "no other men attached to her?" "attached in one sense," she replied, "but not connected." "much obliged," he said. "now, lydia, if we stand by each other----" mrs. harmon had forgotten her earlier thoughts. "of course!" she cried. "oh, it will be so interesting!" ellis added the finishing touch, abruptly changing the subject. "you have been to price's recently?" now price was the fashionable jeweller, and few women were indifferent to his name. mrs. harmon, recollecting the cause of her recent visit there, saw fit to be coy. "oh, yes," she said, turning her head away. "he keeps asking me to come." "he's always picking up pretty things," said ellis approvingly. "did he have anything special this time?" "something of orsini's," replied mrs. harmon, struggling to appear indifferent. for they had been lovely, those baroque pearls so gracefully set in dusky gold. price had made her try the necklace on, and she had sighed before the glass. "i wish he wouldn't pester me so," she said irritably. "he knows i can't afford them." "he knows you have taste," ellis said warmly. "he calls it a great pleasure to show things to you." "i know," she replied, mollified. "i think he means to flatter me. but, stephen, it's getting late, and i must dress for the fennos' ball this evening." "then," responded ellis, "i will stop at price's on my way down-town." "naughty! naughty!" she answered, but she radiated smiles. ellis, after he had left mrs. harmon at her door, went, as he had promised, to the establishment of the pushing mr. price, and asked for the proprietor. "got anything to show me?" ellis demanded. from his safe the jeweller brought out a leather case, and looked at ellis impressively before opening it. "pretty small," commented ellis. "ah, but----" replied the other, and opened the case. "look--orsini's make!" "i don't know anything about that," ellis said as he poked the jewels with his finger. "look strange to me. the fashion, however?" "the very latest," price assured him. "trust me, mr. ellis." it was one secret of ellis's success that he knew where to trust. he had ventured twice that day, with women at that, and the thought of it was to trouble him before he slept. but he could trust price in matters of taste, and as to secrecy, the man was bound to him. price had been in politics at the time when ellis was getting "influence" in the city government; for the jeweller those days were past, but this store and certain blocks of stock were the result. besides, he was adroit. ellis gave the chains and pendants a final push with his finger. "send it, then," he said. "the usual place. by the way, how much? whew! some things come dear, don't they? but send it, just the same, and at once. she's going out to some affair." thus it happened that mrs. harmon wore "the very latest" at her throat that night. chapter v various points of view the blanchards' equipage was a perfect expression of quiet respectability, for the carriage was sober in colour, was drawn by a strong and glossy horse, and was driven by a coachman wearing a modest livery and a discontented countenance. as it drove away from the golf club the carriage held the three members of the family, in front the younger daughter, beth, and on the rear seat the others: judith erect and cheerful, the colonel cheerful also, but lounging in his corner with the air of one who took the world without care. blanchard was fifty-eight, military as to voice and hair, for his tones were sonorous and his white whiskers fierce. yet these outward signs by no means indicated his nature, and his manner, though bluff, appertained less to military life than to the game of poker. not that the colonel played cards; moreover, he drank merely in moderation, swore simply to maintain his character, betrayed only by the tint of the left side of his mustache that he liked a good cigar, and was extravagant in neither dress nor table. he kept his carriage, of course, liked the best wines at home and at the club, and in a small way was a collector of curios. yet the blanchards, but for the brilliance of judith, were quiet people; he was proud to be a quiet man. dullness is often the penalty of indolence; the colonel was lazy and he had small wit. perceiving that judith came away from the tea stimulated and even excited, he rallied her about her new acquaintance. "an interesting man, hey?" he asked for the third time. "yes," answered judith absently. "father, what is there against mr. ellis?" "only that he is a pusher. he jars." blanchard aimed to be tolerant. "isn't there more?" asked little beth. the colonel, as always, turned his eyes on her with pleasure. she was dark and quiet and sweet, yet her brown eyes revealed a power of examining questions for their moral aspects. "nothing much," he said indulgently. "you don't know business, beth. he's beaten his opponents always, and the beaten always squeal, but i doubt if he's as black as he's painted." "i'm glad to hear you stand up for him, father," said judith. "he'll be looking for a wife among us," went on the colonel with vast shrewdness and considerable delicacy. "how would he suit you, judith?" "oh, father!" beth protested. but judith, with fire in her eyes, answered: "he's at least a man. you can't say that of every one." her answer made him turn toward her with a soberer thought and a new interest. his manner changed from the natural to the pompous as he set forth his views. "money is almost the best thing one can have." "father, dear!" protested beth again. "i mean," he explained, again softening his manner, "from a father's standpoint. if i could see you two girls married with plenty of money, i could die happy." but evidently the colonel was in the best of health, so that his words lacked impressiveness. it was one of the misfortunes of their family life that judith was able to perceive the incongruity between her father's delphic utterances and his actual feelings, and that the colonel knew she found him out. "i wasn't thinking of mr. ellis's money," she said at this point. "i was," retorted the colonel. as he was struggling with a real thought, his tones became a little less sonorous and more genuine. "in sickness riches give everything. in health there are enough troubles without money cares. i mean it, judith." she took his hand and caressed it. "forgive me, father!" "my dear--my dear!" he responded cordially. so this, the type of their little jars, the sole disturbers of family peace, passed as usual, rapidly and completely, and ellis was spoken of no more. beth, with customary adroitness, came in to shift the subject, and when the three descended at their door none of them shared the coachman's air of gloom. he, however, detained the colonel while the girls went up the steps. "beg pardon, sir, but could you give me a little of my wages?" "james," returned his master with his most military air, "why will you choose such inconvenient times? here is all i have with me." he gave some money. "twenty dollars." "yessir," replied the man, not overmuch relieved. "and the rest of it, sir? there's a hundred more owing." "not to-day," returned the colonel with vexation. but he was an optimist. though at the bottom of the steps he muttered to himself something about "discharge," by the time he reached the top he was absorbed in cheerful contemplation of the vast resources which, should judith ever chance to marry ellis, would be at her disposal. five minds were, that evening, dominated by the occurrences of the afternoon. one was the colonel's, still entertaining a dream which should properly be repugnant to one of his station. this he recognised, but he reminded himself that as a parent his daughter's good should be his care. another mind was mather's, disturbed by the jealousy and dread which the manliest of lovers cannot master. and one was mrs. harmon's; she, like ellis, had learned much that afternoon, and meant in future to apply her knowledge. as that evening she went to the fennos' ball mrs. harmon recalled the snubs of the afternoon, and saw how insecure her footing was among these people. sometimes she had wondered if it were worth while, this struggle to be "in"; the life was dull, lacking all natural excitements; there was no friendship possible with any of the blue-bloods. yet she hated to knuckle to them; if she could engineer this match between judith and ellis, then----! and mrs. harmon, with the hope of coming triumph, felt fully equal to meeting mrs. fenno on her own ground. mrs. harmon wore ellis's jewels on her breast, she had his brain to back her, she believed she knew judith's weaknesses, and she saw before her a bright future. judith blanchard made at that ball a searching review of her world, dominated as she still was by the thoughts which ellis aroused. for he, the strongest personality in the city, had done more than to excite her curiosity: with his deference to her opinion and his appeal for her help he had succeeded--as mather never--in wakening her sympathy. questioning why fashion should reject him, stirred to a new comparison of reality with sham, she looked keenly about her at the ball. she was in one of the inner sanctuaries, where society bowed down and worshiped itself. judith sniffed the incense, listened to the chants, and weighed the words of officiating priests and priestesses. she found everything to delight the eye, except the idols; everything to charm the senses, except sense. in the ball-room there was dancing, pagan rites to what purpose? this usually unrhythmic swaying, skipping, sliding, seemed a profitless way to pass the hours when workers were in bed. girls more or less innocent danced with men more or less _roué_; this procedure, indefinitely continued, gave occasion for jealousies among the girls and selfish scheming among the men. in other rooms the older people played cards, intent at bridge or whist upon their stakes. near the buffet thronged bachelors old or young, with not a few married men, busied in acquiring an agreeable exhilaration. their occupation was no worse than the passionate gambling of the old women. and the house in which all this went on was beautifully classic in design and furnishings. beside that quiet elegance, how vacant was the chatter! as judith thought thus, slowly the spirit of revolt came to her. the master of the house approached her; he was leonine, massive, somewhat lame from rheumatism. she saw him, as he came, speaking among his guests; his smile was cynical. it lighted upon her father, and the colonel, his character somehow exposed by that smile, seemed shallow. it turned to the men at the sideboard, and their interests seemed less than the froth in their glasses. the smile turned on judith, and she felt called to give an account of herself. but he merely asked her: "where is beth?" "gone with miss pease to a meeting of the charity board," judith answered. mr. fenno grunted, looking at her sidewise. "better employed than we!" then he rambled away, neither knowing nor caring what encouragement he had given to her mood. he missed beth, for his rheumatism was sharp, the company inane, and beth was almost the only person who could make him contented with himself. but judith felt the reflection of his cynicism and was stirred still deeper. what was there to interest her here? among all the women mrs. harmon alone was in disaccord. no dressmaker could conceal her natural style; the eye and carriage of the judge's wife were bolder than those of the women about her. a free humour attracted some of the men; the women avoided her, the more delicate from instinct, the stronger with a frank dislike. this antipathy judith had often felt and expressed, yet to-night she reviewed and rejected it. mrs. harmon belonged to the class of the rising americans; in that class judith felt interest, questioning if its vigour and freshness should not outweigh external faults. she went to mrs. harmon and began to talk with her. she tried to find, within the exterior, the solid qualities of the middle class. but thought and purpose seemed lacking; in mrs. harmon the vulgarity lay deeper than the surface. she was frivolous; she liked the sparkle and the show, the wine, the dancing, and the gaiety. promising herself an intimacy with judith, she talked willingly, but it was only upon the subject of ellis that she became interesting. she told judith much about him. he had always been persevering and ambitious; he had left his town as a boy because even then he found it too little. ellis had begun small; now he was big. some day, said mrs harmon significantly, people would recognise him. why not, thought judith as she looked about her, admit ellis here? what was an aristocracy for but to reward success? how could it remain sound but by the infusion of new blood? ellis had proved his quality by the things he had done; he had beaten mather; yet these halls which to mather were open were closed to ellis. it was unfair to refuse to recognise him! what were the abilities of these men here, compared with his? thus judith, tolerant in her broad americanism, admiring the forces which to-day are accomplishing such marvellous results, thought of her world. at the same time ellis also was thinking of it. his was the fifth mind moved by that afternoon's occurrence, but moved the most deeply of them all. on leaving judith first, like a man smitten by a slender blade he had spoken, acted, thought as before. then the inward bleeding began, and the pain. he had gone away from her thinking of her as something to be won, but no more distant, no less a commodity, than a public franchise or a seat in the legislature. thus he had discussed her with mrs. harmon, but before night his thought of the girl had changed. her refinement was new to him; he recalled her in imagination and dwelt on her features and her voice. yet, equally with her delicacy, her spirit charmed him with its frankness and its admiration of great things. there was a subtle flattery in her interest in him; he had never thought of himself as she did; he saw himself magnified in her eyes, which seemed to refine the baseness from his employments and purposes. she gave him a new idea of himself, and held before him vague new aims. he had entertained some of his henchmen that evening at his table, had tasted while they ate, sipped while they drank, listened while they spoke of politics. he sat at the head of the table, like the sphinx after which he was familiarly called, indifferent to their uncouthness and their little thoughts; then at the end he suddenly called them into executive session, asked a few keen questions, gave some brief directions, and dismissed them. thus he had always ruled them, from outside, commanding respect by his decision, almost awe by his silence. though his purposes were not clear, the men went to obey him, having learned to support him blindly, for he never failed. such was ellis among his subordinates, the "old man" of whom they never asked questions, with whom they never attempted familiarity. they praised him as they went, proud of their connection with him. but he put out the lights as soon as the men were gone, and sat at the window, looking at fenno's house. there was the temporary focus of social life; he saw the lights; had he opened his window he might have heard the music. carriages drove up, people entered the house, and on the curtains of the ball-room he saw moving shadows. in that house were what he wanted--recognition, a new life, judith. but she was guarded by the powers of a whole order, was infinitely remote. his talk with judith had doubled his determination to enter the upper world, and yet changed his regard for it. it became judith's world, seeming to-night like a house which she inhabited, more precious by her presence. and because she was so much finer than he had imagined the women of her class, her sphere looked farther away, and his determination to enter it was tempered by the fear of failure. as he took the first step in his new venture, he had been half ashamed of his desire to "better himself," quite unable to justify himself by appeal to the natural american wish to obtain the highest indorsement of his community. so long as there had been anything left for him to win, he had turned instinctively toward it. now he suddenly realised that he faced his greatest fight. he had often said that he liked fighting; he had struggled for many years with all the power of nerve and mind. to-night his brain seemed weary, bruised and scarred as a body might be. watching the house where judith was, contemplating her image, a softness came over ellis, new to him; resolution became a wish, and then turned to yearning. it was with difficulty that he roused himself, surprise mingling with his contempt of the unrecognised sensation. he was in for it now, he told himself almost roughly; the game was worth the candle, and he would see it through. chapter vi introducing an eccentric mr. peveril pease had finished his week's work, and feeling no obligation to attend the golf club tea, went home and settled himself in his snuggery among his books. when his feet were once in slippers, his velvet jacket was on, and he held a well-marked volume in his hand, he felt he had more true comfort than all the golf clubs in the world could give. so thorough was his satisfaction that rather than read he gave himself up to the enjoyment of his well-being. gazing about the room, mr. pease permitted himself a brief retrospection of his career. few men in the town could with so much right compliment themselves. he had begun life with nothing but ancestral debts and encumbered property, and now he was nearly as rich as ellis, who had started with the traditional dollar in his pocket. pease's credit was firm as a rock; the stock of his bank was quoted--no, it was hoarded. the widow, the orphan, the struggling clerks who had their money in pease's hands could sleep at ease, and the respect in which he was held by the business men of the city--but he wasn't thinking of that. no, this little house was his thought, and this room, and that array of books. he had been thirteen years of age when his grandfather died, and within the month he had refused the trustees his permission to sell a foot of the real estate. judge harmon never tired of telling of the visit of the boy, swelling with rage and resolution. "cynthia may be willing, but grandfather never would sell, and i won't have it!" he had declared, and so strong was the lad's feeling that the trustees, divided in opinion, had yielded to him, backing the debts of the estate with their own credit. at eighteen he was practically their adviser and his own trustee; at twenty he had redeemed the homestead with his earnings; at twenty-five he had sold a single lot of the down-town property for what the entire estate would not have brought twelve years before. so much for determination and a long head. fifteen years more had passed, and still his life had not made him hard nor calculating. when he left his office he left his business; he went "home," to the house in which he was born. the little shingled building, so quaint, had been in the family for six generations; a percival pease founded it, a pembroke pease finished it, a peveril pease owned it now. it had never been rebuilt; the wainscot was still the same, the floors sagged, the stairs were queer, the ceilings low. it corresponded the least in the world with his riches and his great interests. but pease had the heart of a boy and the affections of a woman. the house was his paradise, the room his bower, the books his especial delight. all his spare time he spent among them, giving himself to "mental improvement." many people thought him odd; some called him "poor mr. pease," with such pity as is given to the struggling artist or the ambitious novelist, for pease had never been even to the high-school, and it seemed foolish for him to try to cultivate his mind. they did not consider that the grace of humility was not denied him, with just a touch of that saving quality, humour. he knew himself fairly well, he guarded himself successfully, only one person really knew his heart, and for the opinion of the rest he had a smile. let them laugh or pity, they had nothing so fine as he, they were not so happy as he, and his kind of a fool was not the worst. and so we must acknowledge that he was thoroughly complacent. none of judith blanchard's discontent stirred him, none of mather's anger at the world, and none of ellis's desire to advance. this little room gave him all that he wanted: intellectual improvement, the feeling of progress, mental satisfaction. pease went beyond cherishing an ideal of happiness; he believed that he was happy, and that no one could take his happiness from him. and thinking so at this minute, his eye rested fondly on a motto on the wall. it was from goethe; it was lettered in old german characters, framed in passe-partout, and hung above the mantel. pease had dug it out of "faust"; it embodied so completely his notion of existence that he resolved to keep it before him always. no mere translation could do it justice; "gray, dear friend, is all theory, and green the golden tree of life"--that was too tame. no; the sonorous german could best express it: "grau, theurer freund, ist aller theorie, und gruen des lebens goldner baum." pease whispered the words to himself. gray indeed were the lives of all others; he alone dwelt beneath life's green tree and ate its golden fruit. this house, this room, these books--ah, paradise! there came a knock at the door. "peveril?" "yes, cynthia." "don't forget, little miss blanchard is coming to dinner." "no, cynthia." she was not requesting him to "dress." he always did. she was not asking him to be on time; he always was. being on the safe side of the door, however, his cousin meant to remind him of her hardihood in inviting to his table some one young and pretty. not, miss cynthia sighed, that it would make any difference to him. when her visitor arrived a little early, and sat chatting in the parlour, miss pease reflected that peveril, upstairs, was dressing no more carefully for this charming girl than he would have done for old mrs. brown. charming--but he knew nothing of the real, the true, the living best! thus we may briefly record that miss cynthia pease, who was the one person that understood her cousin, was not wholly in sympathy with his pursuits. not that she would have acknowledged it to him, nor to anyone else, not even to "little miss blanchard," judith's sister beth, who was questioning her in a spirit of fun. "i'm so afraid of dining with your cousin!" beth exclaimed. "no, you're not!" contradicted miss cynthia grimly. "if i should make some slip in statement, or spot the table-cloth! he is so accurate, they all say." "you may depend on him to be polite under all circumstances," responded miss cynthia, glaring. "but i should know what he would think," persisted the young lady. miss cynthia advanced to fury, scarcely repressed. "no, you wouldn't!" she denied emphatically. "i won't have you laugh at him." "why, you laugh at him yourself," said beth. "you know you do." "and if i do?" retorted miss pease. "let me tell you he's the dearest, kindest man that ever--" "why, miss cynthia," cried the other, "don't i know?" "nobody knows," was the response. now all grades of opposition, from caustic irony to smothered denunciation, were habitual in miss pease's manner, but as she said "nobody knows," lo! there were tears in her voice, if not in her eyes. "miss cynthia!" cried beth. miss pease was gaunt and grewsome, so that her manner fitted her perfectly, but now as she sat winking her eyes and twisting her face she became pathetic. the girl rose quickly and came to her side. "have i hurt you?" she inquired anxiously. "no, child, no," answered miss pease, recovering herself. "you didn't know what a sentimental old fool i am, did you? there, sit down again. you see," (she hesitated before committing herself further) "i was thinking, just before you came, of what peveril has been to me. your talk roused me again." "he has done a great deal for you?" asked beth with sympathy. "everything in the world!" answered miss cynthia warmly, not having resumed her manner. "since our grandfather died peveril has been my protector, though he is two years younger. you know we were very poor at first." "very poor?" "we had nothing but debts," stated miss cynthia. "we lived in boarding-houses for seven years before peveril could buy the homestead and get the strangers out of it. it was a proud day when he brought me here, and told me this was mine to live in until the end of my life. and yet for two years more i went daily to my work--i was in benjamin's great dry-goods store, my dear--until when they asked me to be the head of the linen department peveril said i should work no more, and insisted on my staying at home." "i never heard of that," cried beth. "that you were ever in benjamin's!" "and a very good saleswoman i was," said miss cynthia. "but after that the money began to come in to us, and peveril sold the land where the security building now is. i have not done a piece of work since then, except for peveril or for charity. i am a rich woman, my dear." "but you do so much for charity!" exclaimed beth with enthusiasm. when it came to praise, miss pease became grim at once. "i've got to keep busy with something," she snapped. "but tell me more," begged beth. "there is nothing more," declared miss cynthia. "and now i hear him coming, five minutes before the hour, just as he always does. don't be afraid of him; he has the softest heart in the world, as you ought to discover, since you had the skill to find mine." beth had only the time to squeeze her friend's hand as the two stood up together. she had discovered miss pease's heart; it was an unconscious specialty of beth's to find the weak points in the armour of forbidding persons, and she had on her list of friends more of the lonely and unknown than had many a worker in organised charity. she was, in fact, a worker in her own special field, the well-to-do, bringing them the sympathy and affection which they needed as much as do the poor. she had neither shrewdness nor experience; what she did was quite unconscious, but her value was unique. mr. william fenno, who had no love for his wife's pleasures and whose daughters took after their mother, loved to have the girl with him. judge harmon, not quite at home by his own gas-log, felt more comfortable if beth were spending the evening with him--for she made no pretense of coming to see his wife. quite unconsciously, a similar bond had been growing up between beth and miss pease, and took open recognition on that day when miss cynthia, allowing her eyes to be pleased by the girl's freshness, blurted her feeling and said: "i like you. you are so unlike your sister." but now mr. pease entered the room, and stood bowing while his cousin repeated the formula: "peveril, here is miss elizabeth blanchard. beth, you remember my cousin, mr. peveril pease?" beth thought he was "funny," meaning he was peculiar. he was short and rotund, he was immaculate and formal. his eyes met hers soberly, as if he had little of his cousin's wit, however much less savage. talk opened with the golf club tea, and before the subject was exhausted he led the conversation dexterously to the weather. dinner was announced while the beauty of the spring was yet under discussion, and at table, for a while, beth was still repeating to herself that he was a "funny" little man. curiously, pease was in an entirely new situation. never had he been so placed that he must give an hour's undivided attention to a girl. he had never learned that girls have individuality; he avoided them as a rule, and at dinners there was always one at his left hand to relieve the other at his right, so that he never spoke to either of them long. besides, not being regarded as a marrying man, pease was invariably given the "sticks" to entertain. girls had been to him, therefore, undeveloped creatures, displaying similar characteristics, being usually unacquainted with serious topics, and (quite as usually) devoid of personal attractions. beth blanchard, however, was something different. without dwelling on her charms, it is enough to say that she was pretty; and without entering upon her mental acquirements, let us believe that she knew what was going on. she was quite used, moreover, to the society of older persons, and could meet pease on many grounds, although it happened that the subject chosen was europe. "you have been there?" asked pease quickly when germany was mentioned. "we spent some time there," beth replied. "of course you have seen weimar, then," pease assumed. he happened to be right. "oh, yes," she answered, quite as if weimar were still a focus of travel. "we spent a month there; mamma was quite ill. you know"--and here she addressed miss cynthia--"that she died over there, and then we came home." mr. pease, in conjunction with his cousin, murmured his condolences, and miss blanchard, not to make the evening doleful, turned again to speak of weimar. "we lived quite near to goethe's house," she said. then she beheld mr. pease glow with admiration. "you are very fortunate," he cried. "the inspiration must have been great." "i am no writer, mr. pease," returned beth. "but," he explained, "it must have permanently bettered and improved you." "do you think i needed it?" she flashed. miss cynthia, at her end of the table, was biting her lip. pease, not perceiving that he was being rallied, fell to apologising. "oh, no," he gasped. "i meant----" she spared him. "i was not serious," she laughed. "you must pardon me." it was no new matter with her to relieve the embarrassed. then she led him once more to the topic. "you like weimar, mr. pease?" "oh, i only like goethe, you know, and schiller. i've never been from america." "and yet you read german?" "not very well. you see, i----" and then he spoke of himself. miss cynthia sat amazed. here was peveril, who was always silent regarding his hobby, speaking from his heart. beth coaxed a little; he hung back a bit, but he yielded. it was as if a miser were giving up his gold, yet the gold came. for all that she had invited beth there, wishing to stir her cousin from his rut, miss cynthia presently became enraged. peveril was telling more than he had ever told her. this chit of a girl, what charm had she? but pease himself, as he told the unaccustomed tale in halting sentences, felt comfort. it had been a long time repressed within him; he had seldom touched on it with cynthia, and though he had not known it, the loneliness of it had been wearing on him all these years. it was sympathy that now brought it out, that quality in beth which could pierce the armour of such a cynic as miss cynthia, or warm so cold a heart as william fenno's. pease yielded to it as frost to the sun. so he told of himself and his studies, and the impulse of all these years he confessed at the last. "you see," he said, flushing painfully, "it's poetry that i love." and he sat, the man of business, with his fair skin pink as a girl's. then, lest she should mistake, he explained. "you mustn't think," he said eagerly, "that i really suppose i understand. i know i lose much--i--i'm not very deep, you know. there are so many subtle things and such beautiful ones that pass me by. only, you see [more hesitation], i got such pleasure from the english poets that i--tried the german. with a dictionary, you know, and a grammar. and all this is so much to me that i--i don't care for anything else. can you understand?" then he was swept by doubt and fear. would she laugh? not she! beth made him understand she appreciated his feelings, and presently miss cynthia found herself listening to a discussion of shakespeare. her lip curled--how foolish of peveril! what real interest could beth take in his ideas? he asked himself the same question, with a sudden start, for beth laughed merrily. what had he said that was laughable? she held up a finger. "mr. pease, i am going to accuse you of something. will you promise to tell me the truth?" this, he dimly felt, was a species of banter. "i promise," he said uncomfortably. "then, sir, do you memorise?" "why, yes," he confessed. "i knew it!" she exclaimed. "miss cynthia, are you not ashamed of him? i know nobody that memorises now, mr. pease, except you and--me!" he was relieved, and they fell to speaking eagerly. for the next few minutes miss cynthia felt the outrage of hearing poetry quoted at her table. wordsworth, scott, burns, and then--for pease was truly patriotic--lanier and longfellow. and so they came to discuss the meaning of a passage, and took up the subject of "life." next, "happiness." at all this sentiment miss cynthia ground her teeth. beth was of the opinion that environment makes happiness. pease maintained that we make our own environment. "impossible!" said beth, thinking of mr. fenno and the judge. "easily done!" declared pease, thinking of himself. then they spoke of "ideals of conduct"--which of them make most for happiness? by little and little they came to the point where pease felt impelled to open his breast again. he spoke of his motto, quoting it clumsily with his self-taught accent, so that a smile almost came to her lips. she drew from him that he believed he knew the gray of life, and the green. "but, mr. pease," beth objected, "how can you say you know so much of life when you live so much alone?" "we are late--we are late!" cried miss cynthia suddenly. "we shall miss our engagement if we sit so long here." and so the two ladies presently went away, refusing all escort. standing at the open door, pease watched them with a strange regret. the thought of returning to his books was astonishingly unwelcome; they seemed to be but leather, ink, and paper. he looked up at the heavens. something was stinging in his veins: what a lovely world! for the first time he recognised the beauty of the moon. his thoughts were interrupted by a footstep, and there stood mather. "mr. pease," said he, "this is an unusual hour for business. but the kind offer which you made me to-day----" he hesitated. "the position had only possibilities," answered pease. "you would be your own master, because i should leave everything to you, but it would be like beginning at the bottom again. i knew you would refuse me." "you mistake," returned mather with energy. "i like the chance, and will build up your venture for you. i am ready to take your instructions to-night, and go to work monday morning." "come inside," said mr. pease. chapter vii chebasset at the conference between mather and pease various matters were discussed which are not to the direct purpose of this story. such were, for instance, the electrical and mechanical devices by which a metal was to be produced from its ore, either in sheets, pure, or plated on iron. pease had bought the patent; the plan commended itself to mather immediately; there was "good money" in it. but before anything else could be done a plant must be secured, a work which pease expected would take much time. he watched to see how mather would propose to go about it. "we must have a good water-supply for the vats," mused mather. "a harbour-front will be needed for the coal and ore; that means a suburban location, which calls again for railroad facilities." "of course there is no mill ready-made?" "there is! the old dye company's plant at chebasset." "impossible!" answered pease at once. "because rich people have summer places thereabouts, and wouldn't like a mill as neighbour?" "those rich people are our friends," reminded pease. "mr. pease," said mather positively, "i know all the mills of this neighbourhood. there is no other suitable. to use this plant will save us a year's time, as well as great expense. the buildings are in good condition; the vats are large. the harbour is deep; all we need is to enlarge the wharf and put in new engines. what more could one ask?" "nothing," admitted pease. "then why not buy? colonel blanchard has been trying to sell these ten years; he lost much money there. the price is so low that fenno or branderson could easily have protected themselves." pease still hesitated. "one thing more," said mather. "i have visited in chebasset, for short periods; i know the place fairly well. the mill is in the remotest corner of the town, and the dirtiest; there are poor houses there, wretched sanitation, and a saloon on mill property. it's a good place gone to seed. i'd like to clean it out." mr. pease thought he saw a way. "let this settle it. if the colonel is willing to sell, there will be no reason why we should not buy." "i may go ahead on that understanding?" "you may." mather rose. "the colonel will be willing to sell. if you put this in my hands, and will not appear, i can get the place cheap. people are ready to see me start on another fool's errand at any time." "go ahead, then; you know how much i am willing to spend. attend to everything and spare me the details. but," added pease kindly, "i am sorry to see you quite so bitter. your friends will yet put you back in ellis's place." "when he has a clear majority of fifty votes in our small issue of stock? ah, let me go my own way, mr. pease. i see here a chance to do a good thing; i need a wrestle with business. after i have been a month at this you will find me a different man." they parted, each with a little envy of the other. mather envied pease his accomplishments, the work that stood in his name; pease coveted the other's youth. but each was glad that they were working together. pease found that the purchase was accomplished within a fortnight, and that men were soon at work on alterations in the mills. those were matters in which he did not concern himself; the scheme was bound to succeed; he had little money in it (as money went with him), and he was interested to see what mather would make of the business. trouble in the form of criticism was bound to come. when it came the ladies took an active hand in it. mrs. fenno complained that the sky-line of her view would be broken by the new chimney; mrs. branderson had no relish for the aspect of the projected coal-wharf. young people believed that the river would be spoiled for canoeing, and all agreed that the village would be no longer bearable, with the families of fifty imported workmen to make it noisy and dirty. moreover, if the villagers themselves should give up their old occupations of fishing, clam-digging, and market-gardening, for the steadier work in the mill, then where would the cottagers look for their lobsters, their stews, and their fresh vegetables? but the plan was put through. the chimney went up, the wharf was enlarged, coal and ore barges appeared in the little harbour, and in a surprisingly short time the old dye company's mill was ready for work. pease saw his returns promised a year before he had expected, but george mather was no longer popular. mrs. fenno frowned at him, mrs. branderson scolded, and though their husbands laughed at the young man and said he had been clever, many people clamoured, and among them judith blanchard. this move of mather's had taken her by surprise; at a step he had gained a new position. no offers from the rich men moved him to sell; he replied that he meant to carry out his plans. so a whole section of the town was put in order for the families of the new workmen. judith, hearing of all this, complained to mather when she met him. "and yet," he responded, "the mill is a mile from the nearest estate; the whole town lies between. as for what clearing up i've done, i value picturesqueness, judith, but the place is now ten times healthier. and we are putting in smoke-consumers." "yet from most of our houses we can see your chimney." "judith, for that one eyesore which i put up i will remove ten from the town." "but who asked you to do it? you never lived here; you have no love for the place." "i have lived," he replied, "in other new england towns, equally degenerate." "i am not speaking of the townspeople," she said. "i mean the summer residents." "wasn't it your father's matter to think of them?" judith had felt the discussion to be going against her. therefore she answered with some warmth: "that is another question entirely!" "i beg your pardon, judith," he said. "but mayn't i describe my plans?" "no," she answered; "i don't think it is necessary." "very well," he returned, and made no attempt to say more. hurt, he fell into a mood of dogged endurance. "very well," he repeated, and let the matter drop. then judith's interest was roused too late; he might really have had something to say. she knew that dirt was unhealthy; she remembered that in chebasset drunkards on the street were more plentiful than in stirling. yet her generosity did not quite extend to recalling her words--partly because of natural pride, partly because she knew his interest in her and would not encourage it, partly again because she still resented his words to ellis in her presence. and so the breach between them remained. yet he had already impressed her, by his manly readiness to begin life again, and by his steadiness under her fire. confidence was, to judith, almost a virtue. and the idea of reform always appealed to her: had the place been really so bad? one by one the households had been moving down to chebasset, and beth had already opened the blanchard cottage. on the evening after judith had spoken with mather she asked if beth had noticed the changes in chebasset. "george's? at his mill?" asked beth. "i think it's much improved. those horrid tumble-down shanties are gone, and there are new houses there now--shingled and stained they are to be--with new fences." "father," asked judith, "why didn't you do that?" "my dear child," was his response, "how could i afford it?" the colonel was always nervous when the subject of the new mill was broached, and quitted it as soon as possible. but judith pursued him. "i asked george if he had not treated us unfairly--the property owners, i mean. he seemed to think that was your affair." beth was up in arms at once. "for that chimney? he laid the blame on papa?" the colonel wiped his flowing mustache, and looked at judith; beth's outraged cry did not interest him so much as his elder daughter's stand. "what did you say to him?" he asked. "i said that was another question." "so it is," agreed the colonel. "entirely different." he looked at beth to see if she were satisfied; she rose and came behind his chair, where she began smoothing his hair. "poor papa," she purred. blanchard swelled his chest. "thank you, beth," he said, but his thoughts went back to judith. people took different stands on this matter; he was anxious to have judith on his side. fenno had told the colonel that he, fenno, ought to have been informed of the proposed sale; branderson, less bluntly, had intimated the same. it was possible that judith might take a similar view. "i had others beside myself to consider," he said. "dear papa!" murmured beth. but judith took it differently. "i don't want to profit by the sale," she stated. the colonel offered no explanation. at the time of the sale he had not been thinking of his daughters, but of certain pressing creditors. so the money had been welcome and was already partly gone. he answered with grim knowledge of a hidden meaning. "i'll take care you shall not profit by the transaction, judith. but i am sorry that the mill is sold. i hate a disturbance." "don't you be sorry, papa!" exhorted beth. but judith delivered a shot which hit her parent between wind and water. it was one of those impromptus which come too quickly to be checked. "perhaps mr. fenno would have given more." "judith!" shouted her father, bouncing in his chair. "i beg your pardon, papa," she said humbly. when judith was humble she was charming; the colonel accepted her kiss and pardoned her. as for herself, she felt her spirit lightened, as by an electric discharge, and began to look at the whole question of mather's mill more temperately. why should she grudge him his success? it was so much less than ellis's. when next she met mather she was gracious to him, and was ready to hear a full account of all his plans, if only he would open the subject. he avoided it. then the blanchards moved to chebasset, and judith saw the mill and chimney with her own eyes. people had stopped scolding about them; she found them not so bad as had been reported, and the chimney, though certainly tall, gave off but the slightest film of smoke. so thorough were mather's improvements that they forced judith's admiration. when she first went to the grocer's and, after making her purchases, inquired of the changes in the town, she heard a torrent of praise of mather. "it's a bad place he's cleaned out," the grocer said, coming very close and speaking confidentially. "many young fellows were led wrong there, but the biggest saloon's gone now, and some of the worst men have left the town, and a man can feel that his own children have a chance of growing up decent. it's two boys i have, miss blanchard, that i was worrying about till mr. mather came." "i am glad things are so much better," judith said. "they'll be better yet," the grocer responded. "gross, the other saloon-keeper, has got to look after himself now. mr. mather had him in court only the other day--look, there they are now." on the sidewalk outside stood a large man, gross as was his name; across the street mather was unconcernedly walking. the saloon-keeper raised a fist and shouted at mather, who paused and looked over at him inquiringly. "i'll be even with you!" shouted gross again. "wait a bit," answered mather cheerfully, "i'll come over." he crossed the street and stepped directly to the saloon-keeper. "you'll be even with me for what, mr. gross?" "for that fine," answered the other. "i'll have you in court yet, see if i don't." "you'll have me in court," rejoined mather, "when you catch me selling whisky to minors, not before, mr. gross. and while we're on this subject i may as well say that i've just sworn out a second warrant against you." the saloon-keeper backed away from the very cool young man. "what yer goin' ter do?" he asked. "i'm going to see," mather answered, "that you observe the liquor laws. and when your license comes before the selectmen for renewal, i shall be at the hearing." on gross's face appeared blotches of white. "we'll see!" he blustered. "we'll see," agreed mather, and turned away. the grocer spoke in judith's ear. "that's the stuff! that's what, miss blanchard!" waiting till mather was gone, judith left the shop and went home very thoughtful. so george was working, on however small a scale, for reform and progress. she could not fail to see that for his coming the whole town had a brisker, brighter look. chebasset streets had been dull, sleepy, unpainted. now fences were repaired, houses were freshened, and the townspeople looked better dressed, because the men were earning more money at the mill, or the women were gaining livings by boarding and lodging the new-comers. the town was changed, and mather was the cause. then she learned more of him. he was domesticating himself there, kept a cat-boat, and had even bought a cottage. beth pointed out the little house, a good example of provincial architecture. "you didn't tell us you were going to buy," judith reproached him when he came to call. "oh," he answered indirectly, "i fell in love with the place, and the family mahogany fits in there exactly. did you notice my roses?" then he spoke of gardening, and gave judith no chance to tell him what she thought about his work. had he done so, she might even have let him know that she had overheard his talk with gross, and that his action pleased her. but he avoided the subject; his call was brief, and after he had gone he did not return for a number of days. chebasset was not lively that summer; judith grew lonesome, and more than once thought of mather. his conduct piqued and puzzled her. now was his chance, as he ought to know. what had become of the lover who used to bring to her his hopes and fears? as for that lover, he had less time at his disposal than judith supposed. all day he was at the mill, or else went to stirling on necessary business; at night he was very tired. yet though he knew he was leaving judith to her own devices, he did it deliberately. until she was tired of freedom, until she had satisfied her interest in the great world, she would come to no man's call. perhaps his conclusion was wise, perhaps it was not, for while at a distance he watched judith and weighed his chances, ellis was doing the same. to the outsider, mather's path seemed clear; he lived in the same town with judith, might see her every day, and, worst of all, was prospering. "i'll touch him up," said ellis grimly to himself. "he'll buy a house, will he?" and from that time he kept well informed of mather's business acts, watching for a chance to trip him. ellis knew all the ways of those three great forces: politics, capital, and labour; he could pull so many wires that he counted on acting unobserved. minor annoyances met mather in his business, traceable to no particular source. there was evident discrimination in railroad rates, and yet so small was the increase that proof was difficult. freight was mislaid and mishandled; it was frequently very vexing. but the real attempt to cripple the new business came toward the middle of the summer, when ellis, weary of the weak attempts of his subordinates at annoyance, took a hand himself, and looked for some vital flaw in the safeguards of the electrolytic company. he believed he found it, and various legal notices came to mather, all of which remained unanswered. finally an important official came in person to the office. he introduced himself as mr. daggett of the harbour commission. "i have written you several times," he complained. "so you have," answered mather. "miss jenks, may mr. daggett and i have the office to ourselves for a while? i take it," he added, when the door closed behind the stenographer, "that we are going to be rude to each other. have a cigar?" "thanks," said daggett, "but i don't see why ye didn't answer." "i was too busy. besides, i wanted to get you down here, so as to settle the matter once for all. will you state the matter plainly; your letters were vague? that is the wharf out there." mr. daggett viewed it through the window. "yes, it's surely a long wharf. twenty feet beyond the harbour line. ye'll have to take it down." "or else?" demanded mather. "show a permit." "come, there's one other choice." "pay a fine," grinned daggett. "we've set a pretty large sum. the board's irritated, ye see, because ye've paid so little attention to us." "the board never fails to answer letters, does it?" inquired mather. "what do you mean?" "you're too busy, i suppose. and you don't appear to remember seeing me before, mr. daggett." "have i?" asked the commissioner. "you don't recollect that i wrote about this matter two months ago? i had to go to the office to get an answer. you were deep in affairs, mr. daggett. i found you and two others playing cards." "was i?" asked daggett. "when was this harbour line established, anyway? wasn't it about two weeks ago?" "certainly," mr. daggett answered. "that has nothing to do with it. but what did we tell you at the office--i can't remember your coming." "i wasn't there long enough to make much impression," said mather. "one of your friends told me that all fools knew there was no harbour line here, and i didn't need your permission." "hm!" remarked daggett doubtfully. then he brightened. "did we give you that in writing?" "i didn't ask you for it. you seemed so anxious to go on with your game that i didn't trouble you further." "then you have no permission," stated daggett. "and now that there is a harbour line, what will you do about it?" "i learned all i wanted of you," said mather. he had not yet risen from his desk, but now he did so, and going over to his safe, he threw it open. "i asked nothing further because, there being no harbour line, a permit wouldn't have been worth the paper it was written on. i wrote to the secretary of the navy." mather drew a document from a drawer of the safe. "do you care to see his answer?" "whew!" whistled daggett. "well, i suppose i might as well." mather gave him the paper. "you will see that i have permission to build ten feet farther if i want to, and fifteen broader. i may also build another wharf if i wish, lower down. are you satisfied?" he touched the bell. "you may come in now, miss jenks. thank you for taking it so easily, mr. daggett. i won't keep you from your game any longer. good-day." --"and before i left the office he was hard at work again, mr. ellis," reported daggett. "save me, but he's taken pretty good care of himself, and that's a fact." ellis had no comments to make; he did his growling to himself. seeing nothing further to do, he left mather alone. thus time passed by till that midsummer day when ellis took the trolley to chebasset and, once there, strolled among its streets. he viewed the mill from a distance and gritted his teeth at the sight. mather was well ensconced; it seemed altogether too likely that he might win a wife, among his other successes. then the promoter left the town and climbed above it on the winding road, viewing the estates of the summer residents as one by one he passed their gates. should he enter at the judge's? a light step sounded on the road as he hesitated at the gate. someone spoke his name, and there stood judith blanchard. "here, and in business hours?" she asked. "my day's work was done," he answered. "besides, it was not all pleasure that brought me." judith's eyes brightened. "tell me," she suggested. "why should i tell you?" he asked bluntly. but the brusqueness only pleased her; he was a man of secrets. "no reason at all," she answered. "and yet," he said, "your advice would be valuable, if you will not tell." "i! i tell?" she asked. "you do not know me." "then," he said, "i came to look at land here." "to look at land here?" she repeated, questioning. "can you buy here?" "there is land," he said. "the price would be doubled if it were known i am after it. i have the refusal of it, through agents." "where does it lie?" she asked. "farther up the road." "you must not be seen going to it," she declared. "people would take alarm----" she stopped, embarrassed. "i do not mind," he said, and yet she felt his bitterness. "i am not considered a good neighbour." "it is wrong of people," she declared earnestly. "i should not be welcome on any one of these piazzas," he said, indicating the villas beyond them. "the judge doesn't like me--your own father has no use for me." "will you come and try?" she cried. "i should like to see if my father will be rude to my guest." "you are very kind," he said, "but do you consider----?" "i have invited you," she interrupted. "will you come?" "with pleasure," he answered. they went up the hill together. chapter viii the progress of acquaintance judith, before she met ellis for this second time, had been bored. chebasset was so dull that it was dreary; in the country-houses were given little teas, slow whist-parties, or stupid luncheons. of the young people of her age some had married, others had gone into business, and the self-content of the first of these was not to be disturbed, nor the fatigue of the others to be increased, for the sake of giving judith a good time. she became a little impatient with her surroundings, therefore, and as the sizzling summer brought physical discomfort, she was inclined to lay the blame where it could scarcely with justice be said to belong. yet while her acquaintances were not responsible for the heat, judith, with her abundant energies unused, was right in feeling that society was sunk in sloth, and that instead of giving itself to petty diversions it had better do something worth while. she was discontented with herself, her idleness, her uselessness; she felt that she would rather face even the heat of the city, and be doing, than stay longer on her piazza and keep cool. therefore she had sought the dusty road as a sort of penance, and meeting ellis, had been reminded of what he stood for: the world of working men and women. she had thought of him many times since their first meeting, making his achievements a standard to which only pease and fenno approximated, and of which mather fell far short. she had continued to read of ellis in the newspapers, to watch his slow course of uninterrupted success, and had come to accept the popular idea of his irresistible genius. feeling this natural admiration of his immense energy and skill, in her heart she made little of the two obstacles which were said to lie in his path. for it was claimed, first, that some day the street-railway would prove too much for him, bringing him as it did in contact with the organised mass of labourers, and with the public which mather had accustomed to an excellent standard of service. could ellis always maintain the present delicate balance between dividends, wages, and efficiency? again it was said that some day he would come in conflict with judith's own class, which, when it chose to exert its power, would rise and hurl him down. judith put no belief in either of these prophesies, considering ellis able to avoid all difficulties, her caste too flabby to oppose him. so she thought of him as destined always to conquer; he would win his way even among the elect, and might become a friend of hers. for she could help him; they were alike in their loneliness, and their outlook upon life was the same. therefore when she met him she welcomed him. a fillip to the wheel of her fate was given as she and ellis went up the hill. they met miss fenno coming down. now miss fenno was the extreme type of the society-bred person, knowing nothing but the one thing. her interests were so small that they included less than the proverbial four-hundred people; her prejudices were so large that they formed a sort of chinese wall to exclude any real humanity of soul. and all she did at this juncture was to gaze very superciliously at ellis, and then to give the coldest of nods to judith as she passed. "the fenno manner," grumbled ellis to himself. but judith flamed with resentment. she brought ellis up to her own piazza, a few minutes later, with that in her bearing which her father recognised as her panoply of war: quietness, erectness, something of hauteur. the colonel rose hastily. "i have brought mr. ellis," she said. "glad to see him!" exclaimed the colonel as if he had been spurred. "mr. ellis is a stranger in chebasset." ellis had the wisdom to attempt no manner. "i come here seldom," he responded. "you are very kind to welcome me, colonel." he wondered if the use of the title were proper in the upper circle, and if he should have answered differently. moments such as this made the game seem scarcely worth the candle; the nerve and fiber used up were more than a day of business would require. but his qualities asserted themselves. here he was where he most wanted to be; he meant to win the right to come again. "what do you think of our view?" the colonel asked, leading his guest to the edge of the piazza. the hill fell away steeply, the town lay below, and scattered on the farther hillsides were the villas of the well-to-do. the colonel began pointing out the residences. "alfred fenno over there--alfred, not william, you know; richer than his brother, but not so prominent. and down there is branderson; he overlooks the river, but he also sees the new chimney, which we miss." the colonel added, "a good deal of money he has spent there." "i should think so," agreed ellis. "the dents are over there," blanchard proceeded. "rather pretentious the house is, in my opinion, like--" his voice faded away; he had had in mind ellis's own house in the city. "----er, gingerbready, don't you think?" "the elms don't let me see it very well," ellis was glad to answer. for what was gingerbready? sticky? "but much money in it," said the colonel. "dent has made a good thing of his mills." "very good thing," murmured ellis. he was interested to hear these comments of an insider. "kingston's place is over there," continued the colonel. "now, i like, do you know, mr. ellis, what kingston has done with that house. small, but a gem, sir--a gem! money has not been spared--and there's lots of money there!" quoth the colonel, wagging his head. ellis began to perceive the monotony of these descriptions. money, riches; riches, money. and there was an unction to each utterance which might betray the inner man. judith perceived this also. "let us have tea," she said, and going where the tea-table stood, she rang for the maid. but the colonel continued: "and william fenno is over there--a fine house, mr. ellis; pure georgian, a hundred years old if it's a day. a very old family, and a very old family fortune. the west india trade did it, before our shipping declined." "long ago," murmured ellis. he knew very little of those old days. the present and the immediate future concerned him, and as for the causes of industrial changes, he was one himself. "come," insisted judith, "come and sit down, and let us leave off talking of people's possessions." "judith! my dear!" remonstrated the colonel. but the maid was bringing out the steaming kettle, and he took his seat by the table. "my daughter," he said to ellis, half playfully, "does not concern herself with things which you and i must consider." judith raised her eyebrows. "do you take sugar, mr. ellis?" she asked. "sugar, if you please," he answered. he was divided in his interest as he sat there, for he had taken from the chair, and now held in his hand, the newspaper which the colonel had been reading as they arrived. ellis saw pencillings beside the stock-exchange reports, but though he wished to read them he did not dare, and so laid the paper aside to watch judith make the tea. this was new to him. mrs. harmon had never taken the trouble to offer him tea, though the gaudy outfit stood always in her parlour. he knew that the "proper thing" was his at last, in this detail, but how to take the cup, how hold it, drink from it? confound the schoolboy feeling! "it was hot in the city to-day?" asked the colonel. "uncomfortable," answered ellis. "you are fortunate, miss blanchard, not to have to go to the city every day, as some girls do." "i'm not so sure," she responded. "it's dull here, doing nothing. i sometimes wish i were a stenographer." "judith!" exclaimed her father. "to earn your own living?" asked ellis. "i should not be afraid to try," she replied. "you'd make a good stenographer, i do believe," he exclaimed. "thank you," she answered. his enthusiasm mounted. "i have a situation open!" he cried. "you wouldn't find her spelling perfect," commented the colonel grimly. he laughed with immense enjoyment at his joke, and at the moment beth blanchard came out of the house and joined them. ellis did not see her at first; he was watching the colonel, and divined that no great barrier separated him from the aristocrat; there had been in blanchard's manner nothing that expressed repulsion--nothing like fenno's coolness, for instance, or the constant scrutiny which was so uncomfortable. blanchard had seemed willing to fill up his idle hours by speech with any one; he was a new specimen, therefore, and ellis was studying him, when of a sudden he heard judith speak his name, and looked up to meet the gaze of a pair of quiet eyes. with a little start he scrambled to his feet. "my sister," judith was saying. he bowed and endeavoured to speak, but he felt that the beginning was wrong. beth was in turn dissecting him; she was something entirely different from judith, more thoughtful, less headstrong. the idea that here was an adverse influence came into his mind, as he stammered that he was pleased to meet her. "thank you, mr. ellis," she answered. judith noticed that beth on her part expressed no pleasure. the little sister had individuality, with a persistence in her own opinion which sometimes contrasted strongly with her usual softness. but the incident was brief, for beth's eye lighted as she saw a visitor at the corner of the piazza, hesitating with hat in hand. "mr. pease!" she exclaimed. the little conventionalities of this new welcome also passed. mr. pease had met mr. ellis; he was delighted to find the family at home; the others were equally pleased that he had come. but when the pause came it was awkward, for judith and ellis were clearly uncongenial with beth and pease; it required the colonel's intervention to prevent a hopeless attempt at general conversation. he drew ellis away; judith followed, and beth sat down to serve pease with tea. then the colonel himself withdrew, on pretext of the need to catch the mail. he went into the library to write, and judith turned to ellis. "can we go from here to see the land you spoke of?" "the old welton place," he said. "do you know the way?" "certainly," answered judith. they excused themselves to the others. as they prepared to go, the colonel looked at them from his desk; then turned his eyes on beth and pease. a thrill of wonder, then a sense of exultation seized him. attractive girls they both were, and the men were the two richest in the city. judith conducted ellis through shrubbery and across fields, up the hillside to a spot where little trees were growing in an old cellar, while charred timbers lying half buried spoke of the catastrophe which had destroyed the house. "i remember the fire," judith said. "i was a child then, but i stood at the window in the night, mother holding me, and watched the house burn down. mr. welton would neither build again nor sell. but the place is on the market now?" "he's to marry again, i understand," answered ellis. they both accepted the fact as explaining any and all departures from previous lines of conduct. "would you build on this spot?" she asked him. "what would you advise?" he returned. she swept the situation with her gaze. "there are sites higher up, or lower down," she said. "lower is too low. higher--you might see the chimney." ellis noted with satisfaction the prejudice against mather's landmark, but he passed the remark by. "don't you like," he said, "a house placed at the highest possible point? it is so striking." "couldn't it be too much so?" she inquired. he turned his sharp look on her, willing to take a lesson and at the same time make it evident that he welcomed the instruction. "that is a new idea," he said. "it explains why that chimney, for instance, is unpleasant." "it is so tall and--stupid," explained judith; "and you never can get rid of it." "i understand," he said. "then perhaps this is the best place to build. i could get it roofed in before winter, easily, and have the whole thing ready by next summer. stables where the barn stands, i suppose. my architect could get out the plans in a fortnight." "the same architect," queried judith, "that built your city house?" there was that in her voice which seized ellis's attention. "you don't like his work?" he demanded. "why," she hesitated, caught, "i--you wouldn't put a city house here, would you?" "i like the kind," he said. "stone, you know; turrets, carvings, imps, and that sort of thing. all hand-work, but they get them out quickly. kind of a tall house. wouldn't that do here?" "no, no, mr. ellis," she answered quickly, almost shuddering at his description. "think how out of place--here. on a hill a low house, but a long one if you need it, is proper." "oh," he said slowly, thinking. "seems reasonable. but tall is the kind smithson always builds." "i know," answered judith. smithson was responsible for a good deal, in the city. again ellis searched her face. "you don't care for my city house?" she had to tell the truth. "for my taste," she acknowledged, "it's a little--ornate." "that's ornamental?" he asked. "but that's what i like about it. don't the rest of my neighbours care for it any more than you do?" "some do not," she admitted. "i guess that most of you don't, then," he decided. "well, well, how a fellow makes mistakes! one of those quiet buildings with columns, now, such as i tore down, i suppose would have been just the thing?" "yes," she said. "but mr. ellis, you mustn't think----" he smiled. "never mind, miss blanchard. you would say something nice, i'm sure, but the mischief's done; the building's there, ain't it?" "i wish----" she began. "and really i'm obliged to you," he went on. "because i might have built a house here just like the other. now we'll have it right--if i decide to build here at all." "then you've not made up your mind?" "almost," he said. "the bargain's all but closed. only it seems so useless, for a bachelor." he looked at her a moment. "give me your advice," he begged. "sometimes i think i'm doing the foolish thing." "why, mr. ellis, what can i--and it's not my affair." "make it your affair!" he urged. "this is very important to me. i don't want to sicken these people by crowding in; you saw what miss fenno thought of me this afternoon. but if there is any chance for me--what do you say?" it was the mention of miss fenno that did it. she sprang up in judith's consciousness, clothed in her armour of correctness--proper, prim, and stupid. and in judith was roused wrath against this type of her life, against her class and its narrowness. she obeyed her impulse, and turned a quickening glance on him. "would you turn back now?" she asked. "that is enough!" he cried, with sudden vehemence. for a while they stood and said no more. judith saw that he looked around him on the level space where his house was to stand; then he cast his glance down toward those estates which he would overlook. his eye almost flashed--was there more of the hawk or the eagle in his gaze? judith thought it was the eagle; she knew she had stirred him anew to the struggle, and was exhilarated. unmarked at the moment, she had taken a step important to them both. she had swayed him to an important decision, and had become in a sense an adviser. yet aside from that, she had stimulated him strangely. her enthusiasm was communicable--not through its loftiness, for from that he shrank with mistrust, but through its energy and daring. she drew him in spite of her ignorance and misconceptions: dangerous as these might be to him if she should come to learn the truth about his practices, he thought that in her love of action lay an offset to them, while her restlessness and curiosity were two strong motives in his favour. she was fearless, even bold, and that high spirit of hers had more charm for him than all her beauty. he did not see, and it was long before he understood, that something entirely new in him had been roused by contact with her; the most that he felt was that he was satisfied as never before, that she had strengthened his impulse to work and to achieve, and that with her to help him he would be irresistible. yes, he had chosen well! chapter ix new ideas a parting shot in conversation sometimes rankles like the parthian's arrow. so it had been with pease. beth had said to him: "how can you think you know life, when you live so much alone?"--words to that effect. he had had no chance to defend himself to her, and in consequence had been defending himself to himself ever since. truly a serious mind is a heavy burden. finally he had come down to chebasset to get the matter off his mind; at least, such was his real purpose. he coloured it with the intention of "looking in at the mill," and gave mather a few words at the office. mather had been working at his desk, as mr. daggett, the harbour commissioner, had found and left him. orders, mather said, were piling in too fast. pease smiled. "enlarge, then." "delay in profits," warned mather. "no dividend this quarter." "go ahead just the same," said pease. "i hoped for this." mather began writing. "come, leave work," invited pease. "i'm going up to the blanchards'. come with me." "i'm ordering coal and material," said mather. "we have plenty of ore, but the new work must begin soon." pease struck his hand upon the desk. "do you mean," he demanded, "that you are writing about the enlargements already?" "plans were made long ago," answered mather. "what do you do for exercise?" cried pease. "how do you keep well? i'll not be responsible, mind, for your breakdown when it comes." but he made no impression and went away alone, climbed the hill, and found the blanchards on their piazza. ellis was more than he had bargained for, and the colonel had never been exactly to pease's taste, but they departed, leaving him alone with beth. she presently noticed the signs that he was endeavouring to bring the conversation to a particular subject, as one becomes aware of a heavy vessel trying to get under way. so she gave him the chance to speak. "miss blanchard," he said, when he found that he might forge ahead, "you said something the other day--other evening--against which i must defend myself. that i live much alone." she remembered at once, flashed back in her mind to that whole conversation, and was ready to tease him. tease him she did as he began his explanation; she refused to be persuaded that he did not live alone. he might enumerate dinners, might point to his pursuits, might speak of the hundred people of all classes with whom he came in close daily contact: she would not acknowledge that she had been wrong. "you are your mind," she declared, "and your mind is aloof." he would have grieved, but that he felt again, dimly as before, that she was rallying him. and he was pleased that she did not fear him, nor call him sir--that title which causes such a painful feeling of seniority. she gave him a feeling of confidence, of youthfulness, which had not been his even in boyhood. he had been "old pease" then; he was "old pease" to many people still. the respect in which young and old held him was a natural, if very formal atmosphere. this defiance of beth's came upon him like a fresh breeze, bringing younger life. he threw off his earnestness at last and laughed with her at himself. "upon my word!" thought the colonel, on whose ears such laughter had a new sound. he looked out of the window; pease was actually merry. "second childhood," grinned the colonel, as he returned to his writing. beth discovered that pease was no fossil, and began to enjoy herself less at his expense but more for other reasons. he could never lose the flavour of originality, for his odd manner's sake. even as he sat and laughed he was upright and precise, though the twinkle was genuine and the noise was hearty. then she rose from the tea-table, and they went to the piazza's edge together. there they discovered judith returning with ellis. "come away," said beth quickly; "there are places where we can go. they have not seen us; take your hat." this was wonderful, slipping with a girl away from other people, and pease felt the delight of it. fleeing by passages he had never seen, in a house he had never before entered, smacked of the youthful and romantic. beth brought him out behind the house, and thirty seconds put them in shrubbery. she led the way, not suspecting that his mental vision was dazzled by new vistas. for pease would have faced ellis and judith as a duty, borne with their conversation, and returned home without a sigh for the wasted hour. such was his conception of life--to take what was sent, nor avoid the unpleasant. it had gone so far that in some matters he did not consult his own feelings at all, but gave his time to others, recognising himself as a trustee for their benefit. the good which can be done in such a way is enormous, in business or professional matters merely; but pease had carried the habit into his social scheme, and was therefore the sufferer from his own good nature, the victim of every bore. it was a revelation that one could exercise choice, and could flee (losing dignity, but gaining in romance) from the unpleasant. so that boyish thrill came over him, with a manly one besides as he felt the compliment beth paid him. it put them on a closer footing when, laughing and out of breath, she sat in a garden seat and motioned him to take the place beside her. "do you think me foolish?" she asked. "not at all!" he answered eagerly. "but perhaps you wished to stay and meet mr. ellis?" "not for anything!" he averred. then she looked at him soberly. "what do you think of him?" she posed him, for polite vagueness was his desire, and he could not find the words. "he is----" he hesitated, "very--er, pleasant, of course. not my--kind, perhaps." "and you really do not like him," she stated, so simply and confidently that in all innocence he answered "yes," and then could have bitten his tongue off. "neither do i," she acknowledged. and so those two took the same important step which judith and ellis had already taken--of showing true feeling to each other, and breaking rules thereby. for beth, while not reserved, chose her confidants carefully, after long trial; and pease's habit had been never to acknowledge personal feeling against any one, least of all a business rival. "judith has encouraged him before," said beth. "people talked of her when she met him; they will do so the more now that she has asked him here. not that she will care for that, mr. pease, but i shall not enjoy it." "of course you will not," he agreed. they hovered on the verge of confidences for a moment, then beth took the plunge. she looked at pease with a little distress in her eyes. "judith is headstrong," she said. "she is discontented, but does not know what she wants. i have sometimes thought that george mather, if he only knew how, might----" "yes," said pease, filling the pause. "i wish he did. he is not happy himself, poor fellow. they have been intimate?" "till within a little while. but they are both too masterful. and yet i sometimes think she has him always in mind, but as if defying him, do you understand?" "indeed?" he murmured. "i hope," said beth, "that this acquaintance of hers with mr. ellis is just a phase of that. if it is not, and if she should--judith cares so little for people's opinions, you know." "it would be very--painful," murmured pease. "but it has not come to anything of that sort yet?" "no, but i know judith so well that i don't know what she'll do." and beth concluded her confidences in order to draw some from pease. the sort of man ellis was: could he be called dishonest? he was not of course a gentleman? pease cast off restraint and answered frankly; she found he had considerable power of defining his thoughts, saying that ellis had never been proved dishonest, but that his conscience seemed no bar to questionable actions; that he was unrefined, good-natured when he had conquered, rough in breaking his way. what his personal charms might be pease had never had the chance to determine. mrs. harmon seemed to like him--but one must not judge by that, because--and silence fell for a moment, as they looked at each other with understanding. it seems simple and so commonplace, but this was one of the talks which _accomplish_, bringing the speakers together as nothing else can do. such talks build human ties; pease and beth formed one now. by the time they saw ellis going away they had new feelings toward each other, differing in degree and result--for beth knew friendship well, but to pease it was altogether astonishing and momentous. when ellis was well away pease also took his leave and followed down the winding road. "tell mr. mather to come," were beth's last words to him. so pease went again to the mill, where mather was still in the office. pease had little finesse, and went about his errand directly. "miss jenks," he said, and the stenographer vanished. "anything?" asked mather. pease put his hand on his shoulder. "just a message," he answered. "miss elizabeth blanchard----" "oh, beth, you mean," said mather. "yes," replied pease. "she told me to tell you to come and see them." "indeed?" asked mather. "she was particular about it," pease urged. "she meant something by it." "thanks," was all mather said. "now these enlargements, mr. pease. you meant what you said?" "yes, yes," answered pease impatiently, and closed his hand on the other's shoulder. "and i mean this: take miss blanchard's advice. good day." he went to the door, and turned. "ellis was up there this afternoon." on his way home he did little thinking, but he felt. he had touched people's lives in a new way; he felt the breath of mather's romance, and warmed at the trust which beth reposed in him. odd quivers ran through him, strange little impulses toward his kind, calling him to a youth which his life had earlier denied him. it was not possible for him to understand their meaning, but they were pleasurable. in like manner mather gave that evening to musings concerning persons rather than things. to follow his new line of conduct with judith, or (now that ellis had appeared again) to turn once more and earnestly pursue her--which? clearly he saw that judith would go her own way, would play with fire, would even burn her fingers for all that he could do. he must wait, be her friend, and having once said his say, must never again bother her with his warnings. and ellis, that evening, also mused upon the blanchards, though his thoughts were very definite. on leaving the house he had borrowed the newspaper; the colonel had asked him to post some letters in the city. when in the train, ellis turned the newspaper to the stock-market reports and studied the colonel's pencillings. blanchard had underlined the names of certain stocks usually considered skittish rather than safe, and had made multiplications in the margin. when ellis came to post the letters, very deliberately he read the addresses. some were meaningless to him, but one bore the address of a broker whose reputation was quite as uncertain as the value of the stocks he chiefly dealt in. ellis did not cast off thought until he reached his house. then he looked up at the gothic building and scanned its various projections. "ornate?" he murmured. "well, wait till the inside is properly beautified!" he spoke lightly, but when he entered the house his feeling changed. the great hall was dim and shadowy; seldom aired, it seemed cold. in front of him wound the huge staircase; to left and right were dusky apartments which echoed his steps. since he first built the place it had satisfied him, but fresh from the influence of judith, suddenly he saw the house as it was. empty, gloomy, it was but a vast artificial cave, without life or warmth. for the second time a wistfulness, misunderstood, almost bewildering, came over him, and he wondered if anybody--somebody!--would ever brighten the house for him, and make it a home. chapter x drawn both ways those youthful promptings which so stirred pease, far beyond his own comprehension, kept working in him through the summer weeks. the joy of living, which he supposed he had mastered, appeared to him an altered thing, so that its object no longer reposed on shelves in his study, but moved serenely in a cottage above the harbour at chebasset. pease accepted the change with the innocence which was particularly his, and followed his new chase with but slight idea that he was varying from his usual course. for being a man of social preciseness, he was given to making calls, and made no distinction between the kind to which he was habituated, the so-named duty call, and the new visit which was made for pleasure. mather wondered, after a few unusual appearances of pease at the mill, if the banker was overseeing his work; but as on each occasion pease went farther up the hill mather put the visits down to the right cause. as most people are gifted with that kind of insight which the manager thus exercised, others as well came to note pease's actions, and their cause, before the banker did himself. miss cynthia, who spent summer as well as winter in the city (for since her poor people could not get away, neither would she), came early to know what seed she had planted in her cousin's breast. for he was open as the day, and without thought of concealment told her where he was going or where he had been. miss cynthia set her mouth at each mention of chebasset, but as they came oftener she began to consider if she should not have to give up her chamber, the best in the house, and take the one in the rear. or perhaps it might be best to live elsewhere altogether. but looking at her cousin one day, all his goodness seemed lost in his homeliness and lack of charm. so she smiled the grim smile of pity, and set about making him more comfortable at home than ever. mather also had occasion to smile thus, when one day he allowed beth blanchard's word of advice to move him at last. he had seen ellis more than once in chebasset, and felt uneasy; pease looked in one afternoon and asked him to go up to the blanchards'. as usual, mather refused, but after an hour he started up the hill, to be passed by pease coming down. they were on different ways, for mather had just left the high road for a path which would save distance, when looking back he saw pease going down the hill. pease wore a flower which he had not had before; he was smiling cheerfully, with a retrospective air, and mather smiled also, grimly as miss cynthia had done, at the thought of the late plant of love springing in the barren soil of middle-age. he went on to the blanchards' house; judith was not there. but beth welcomed him and sat him down, gave him tea, and talked to him as he sat half-silent. "people do not see much of you nowadays," she said with a tone of reproach. "you are much too busy, george." "oh, well----!" he shrugged inattentively, and beth might interpret as she pleased. she looked at him as he sat, with his chair against the piazza railing, his arm across it, and his face turned to look out upon the bay. he was neither gloomy nor resigned, but bore the look of a strong man waiting. time was not of account to him. "you do not worry much," she said. "not i," he answered, but he turned to her. "is there anything to worry about, little beth?" "sometimes i think so," she replied. "i think that now you'd better stay to dinner." "thank you," he said, looking at her more carefully. "i suppose you know best," he added. there had never been anything between these two except undefined good-feeling, expressed only by the inattentive conversation of those who have often met in the same house with different interests. there had existed, besides, that consciousness of a difference in age which makes a few years seem almost a generation, so that with boys and girls "sets" are separated by a bar of habit which prevents an older from seeing anything in a younger, even after the passage of years has brought them both to maturity. thus, to mather, beth had always been a little girl, until just now her quiet, assured carriage, as she interfered in his affairs, opened his eyes. for she answered his last remark with confidence. "yes, i know best." and he believed her. "talk to me," he said, turning still more toward her. "i have seen no one for a long time. who is doing? what is doing?" so beth talked to him. this was her mission in life--to talk people into cheerfulness and bring them nearer the rest of the world. she enjoyed it always, but it was especially pleasant to her as she spoke with mather. for he was real, he was big, he was not baulked by conditions which might have been too much for him. estrangement from judith was not, she was glad to see, making him melancholy. he seemed in good physical condition; though he had not gone much with people of late, she had seen him from her window, early in the morning, sailing on the bay before he went to his work. it was not judith alone, therefore, but work also, that kept him from going about. all this she felt, or guessed, as she told him of little matters. "it is too bad," she said after a while. "you should have a mother, or a sister, to tell you all this." "that esther fenno is away yachting, or that john watson is attentive to mary carr?" he laughed. "but, beth, you shall be my sister of mercy, and i will come here oftener." "come, then," she said. "some day there will be better or more important items, and you may be glad of the bargain. or if you happen to call on judith when mr. ellis does, you may talk with me." "couldn't he do that?" he maintained the appearance of jesting, but she said seriously: "i don't like him." then he put out his hand to her; she took it, and judith came upon them thus. a pang shot through him as he rose and greeted her; she was quiet in her manner--his coming could not move her in the least. he wished he might feel that there had been a flash of inquiry in her first glance at him and beth, but her face had not really changed. she welcomed him kindly enough. "he is going to stay to dinner," said beth. judith answered with a conventional "good!" then the colonel appeared; he had brought the mail. "a letter for you, judith," he said. "a thick package, rather." thoughtlessly, she opened it. ellis had promised to send her his house-plans, and for the purpose had had a set made, much reduced in size. he had mailed them to her himself; but for carelessness she would have recognised his hand. the colonel, always inquisitive, craned his neck as judith drew the plans from the envelope. "plans!" he exclaimed. "are you going into building, judith?" she looked at the upper plan, carelessly as before, though the red came into her cheek. then she put them all back into the paper. "no, i'm not going to build," she said. "this reminds me," said the colonel. "they say ellis has bought the welton place." "indeed!" cried beth. her glance sought mather's; his responded, cynically humorous. that he should be there when the news was given! but he turned to the colonel. "that must be very recent, sir." "it may not be so," replied he, "but kingston is hopping for fury, and dent for fright, because they'll be his neighbours. judith, do you happen to know if the news is true?" in spite of herself, she looked at the floor. "yes, it is true." "aha!" cried the colonel. "then those plans----" she looked up now, and flashed him into silence. "i think," said judith, "that i will go and dress for dinner." she went, and beth went also, casting a glance of sympathy at mather. "will you come in?" asked the colonel nervously of his guest. "i'll stay here, thank you. don't let me keep you, sir." "thanks. i think i will fix up." mather smiled scornfully at the relief the colonel showed. alone, he leaned against a pillar and looked out over the bay. so this was what he had come to learn! and being here, he must stay and put the matter through. it was a miserable meal. judith was furious with her father; beth was appalled at the length to which matters appeared to have gone. mather and the colonel struggled manfully, and spoke of matters in the business world. the colonel inclined toward the subject of stocks. "consolidated," he suggested. "don't you think it a good investment?" "i am leaving silver alone," responded mather. "i consider all those stocks very unsafe just now, sir." so with that radical difference of opinion between them, which really concerned the colonel more than he would show, conversation languished even between the gentlemen. out upon the piazza, after dinner, matters went more smoothly, but mather concluded that it was wiser to "eat and run" than to stay where constraint hung in the air like a fog. so, pleading the habit of early sleep, he took his leave. then judith, fearing that he had been suffering, roused herself. "i will go with you to the gate," she said, as he offered his hand for good-by. they left the piazza together, but beth, catching his eye to signal satisfaction, saw him shake his head. judith's condescension could no longer thrill him. beth felt that his attitude, for one who was so concerned, was strangely like that of an observer. and judith felt it, too. he had passed through the stage of eager homage, a favour could no longer enrapture him; she wondered if he had even noticed the incident of the house-plans--whether, after all, he had been hurt, so steadily he had borne himself. when they were alone together, walking toward the gate, he turned to her a gaze almost quizzical. "have you forgiven me my chimney, judith?" thus he drew a smile from her; then, for the first time, he spoke of his mill, but left her no burden of answering. the walk was short, and he filled it with tales of his men, their weaknesses, their characteristics, the troubles which some of them had confided to him. but he said nothing of his difficulties or of his growing success, though as he talked she thought of them. "does it not please you," she asked, "that people speak well of what you are doing?" "do they?" was all he answered. "by the way----" "and the work of organisation?" she asked him. "it was fun," he said, "and not difficult at all." "i can't believe you!" she cried. "nothing, nothing!" he answered. "and is all smooth sailing now?" "one of the men is getting up a strike," he answered. "that is all." "a strike!" she exclaimed. "so the older men tell me. a little one." "how can you take it so easily?" she asked. he smiled. "i think i can meet it. well, here we are at the gate. thank you for coming, judith. good-by." he started away briskly, then turned back. she was looking at him seriously. "here is jim wayne coming up the road," he said. "he comes to see beth?" "yes." "and what of my employer?" "poor mr. pease!" "_mr._ pease," repeated mather. "there it all is in a nutshell. jim is jim, twenty-three. pease is mr. pease, forty-five. the young to the young, as salvation yeo said. poor pease! good-night again, judith." and this time he was off for good, not turning again. judith returned thoughtfully to the house. he had interested her--turned her back a little toward her real self, her old self. no small part of the effect he had made was caused by his cheerful self-command. did he love her still? she thought of what he had done for chebasset. he was very much of a man. on the way down the hill mather passed wayne. this was that broker's clerk who always nodded to ellis so carelessly, whose mother ellis had bought out, and whose name the promoter envied. handsome, thought mather as they greeted; on second thought he added, a bit weak. but mrs. harmon, looking from her garden as they passed on the road below, thought that wayne was handsome without qualification. thus those two, both of whom were to influence wayne's fate, thought of him as he went on to see beth. mrs. harmon followed him with her eyes until he entered the blanchards' gate; with her thoughts, still longer. mather forgot him in grieving for pease, the poor dreamer who would wake too late. "beth," asked judith, returning to the house, "where was it we read about salvation yeo?" "in kingsley's 'westward ho,'" answered beth. after wayne had come and gone, she noticed that judith was reading the book. "do you like it?" asked beth. "romance--love," said judith. "it seems unnatural." she laid the book aside. "a pleasant evening, beth?" "very," beth answered. "and mr. pease?" asked judith. she saw with surprise that beth's eyes filled with tears. "what can i do?" asked the younger sister; but expecting no answer, she went away. judith took up her book again, yet held it without opening it. romance and love had come to beth; why not to herself? judith had had suitors; and true love might win her yet. was it to be found? such lasting love, she meant, as it was certain pease would give. no wonder beth grieved; any woman's heart would be touched by such devotion. yet as judith thought of her old suitors she could name half a dozen now married, having forgotten their griefs. but it was mather who was most in her mind, who ever since his rejection had been so strangely independent, and this evening most of all. he had shown no surprise, no dismay, at the sight of ellis's house-plans. at the thought judith started up with pique, resentment--it would have been hard to define her feeling at the thought that mather needed no one to sorrow for him. chapter xi an incident at the mill on a morning when beth took her turn at marketing she met mather on the street. "it's four days since you were at the house," she reminded him. "is there really any advantage in my coming often?" he asked her. "i don't know," she answered plaintively. "but judith has very little to do. you might ask her to visit the mill." "come any time. both of you," he responded. "i'll bring her this morning," she said quickly. but when mather had been another hour at the mill he forgot the engagement thus made. for in going about he noticed that the quiet in the place was different from the bustle of ordinary days; the men seemed expectant. then as he passed near one of the older workmen the man spoke to him under his voice. "look out this morning, sir." "the strike is coming, ferguson?" mather asked, at once alert. "yes, sir." mather returned to his desk in the office. he believed that the strike, if it came so soon, would be ill-planned. the day was warm; all doors and windows were open to admit the harbour breeze; as he looked through the screen-door into the mill he watched one man in particular. though the fellow's station was at a window, he seemed hotter than his neighbours: his face was flushed; he wiped his brow and moved nervously. the stenographer rose from her desk and silently laid a slip of paper before mather. on it was scrawled in pencil: "wee will stand by you, mister mather. old hands." mather smiled; he had but twelve out of seventy workmen who knew what strikes and lockouts meant. most of the men he had picked up where he could, training them himself; he had no idea how far he could trust them. instead of giving him confidence, the note suddenly showed how weak his backing was. "where did you get this, miss jenks?" he asked. "i found it just now, sir, slipped in among my papers." "thank you," he answered, and she went back to her desk, pale and frightened. the workman whom mather had been watching kept looking at the clock. it began to strike eleven; at once all eyes were turned on him; all work was suspended during the slow striking. when this ceased, the workman left his place and went to the door of the office; all glances followed him, and the men who were more distant left their stations and crowded to watch. conscious of the stir he made, the fellow walked with a swagger, but a change came in his manner when, through the screen-door, he saw the quiet manager also eyeing him. he knocked on the door. "come in, stock," said mather. now the main entrance to the office was from outside, through a short passage. at the moment when the workman entered from the mill, judith and beth came into the passage; seeing mather in apparent conference with an employee, they waited until he should be finished. he had wheeled in his chair, and his back was turned to them. "well, stock?" he said. the spokesman of the employees was a lean man, somewhat wolfish, with an eye that moved too much. he seemed a talker rather than a doer, with something of the actor showing as he stood by the door and folded his arms. he spoke with an important air; no voice, judith thought, can be impressive if it is not clear. "i've come to say, sir, that we're dissatisfied." "that means," asked mather, quietly and without rising, "that _you_ are dissatisfied?" the man cleared his throat, but still a characteristic huskiness remained. "yes, sir, i am." "very well," was the response, and the manager turned to the stenographer. "miss jenks, make out a bill of this man's time." beth clutched judith by the sleeve and sought to draw her away. judith stood still; not for anything would she have lost the sight of those two men as they watched each other. "you discharge me?" cried the workman with excitement. "you discharged yourself," answered mather steadily. "i can't have a man here who is dissatisfied." "my grievances----" began the other. mather cut him short. "grievance is a word that doesn't apply. you knew the conditions of work when you came; i have changed none of them." "then," cried stock, "let me tell you from the men----" "stop!" ordered mather; "no one speaks for my men who is not in my employ." "just the same----" began stock, anxiety peering from his eyes. mather interrupted him again. "that will do. how much, miss jenks? thanks." he took the money from his pocket and handed it to the workman. "that is correct, i think. good day, stock." the workman was visibly troubled at the turn of events. "this is most improper treatment," he complained. as he turned to the door at his back he ventured a threat. "you shall see!" "not that door," said mather quickly. "remember that you are no longer a workman here. the other way leads out of doors." "i must get my hat," the man said, his eye now truly shifty and alarmed. for a second it met judith's, and she felt that he glared like a trapped rat. nevertheless, under mather's glance he moved away from the mill door. "i will send for your hat," said mather. he rose and opened the door himself. "jamison, stock is leaving us. will you bring his hat?" he stood at the open door and waited. judith looked beyond him into the mill, where machinery rumbled, and in great vats huge cylinders revolved. the men stood and stared at each other, or looked at the door and the manager standing there. some of the men were shamefaced, some uneasy, some were smiling--and these were the older hands. the man who had gone for the hat had reached the door on his return before any sound rose above the rumble of the machinery. then judith heard a voice, high-pitched and harsh. it needed a look at stock to make sure his husky tones could become so sharp. he was craning toward the door, sending his voice toward those farthest away. "now is the time," he cried, "to assert your manhood!" mather took out his watch. "yes," he said, and though he did not raise his voice judith noted its splendid carrying power. "now is your time, boys. any one dissatisfied, like stock here, can go with him. i give you three minutes." one of the older men laughed aloud, and standing above a vat began raking in it, apparently, with a hooked pole. others turned to their work, yet they all kept their attention on those of the younger men who stood still. judith felt her hands grow cold, and knew her heart was beating faster, for half of the men had not moved. then fingers as cold as her own took her hand, and beth pressed up to her side. the older men stopped work again, the man above the vat stood with pole suspended, and stock gave a little dramatic laugh. "one minute!" said mather clearly. the men's eyes were on him, judith's eyes also. he was calm and perfectly confident; he had no word to say, but he seemed massive as his own chimney, and as hard to move. his eye roved among the men, then turned to the office, and for an instant met those of the frightened stenographer. he gave a smile of confidence, looked at his watch, then turned again to his men. "a minute and a half!" his voice seemed to ring out a challenge. before it the men broke. one who stood nearest the door, smiling feebly, turned and shuffled toward his place. he gave the signal to the others. one by one they went to work, but this time the older men last, until the man by the vat, with a disdainful sniff, plunged his pole again into the liquid. then stock, reaching for his hat, snatched it and almost ran from the office. in the passage he fairly crowded judith and beth against the wall. mather, turning to look after him, saw the sisters. at once he closed the solid door into the mill, cutting out the sounds and bringing quiet. "come in," he said to judith. "how long have you been there?" "about three minutes," she answered, entering. she looked him in the eye; he saw that she was excited, and flushed under the admiration which showed in her glance. "i am sorry you ran into this," he said. "i had not expected it for a fortnight." "i am glad," she returned. "what a peaceful spot this will be for a while. you will show us over the mill?" "not when this has just happened," he answered. "it would be too much like showing off the animals i had tamed. will you excuse me?" "i must see the office, then," she said. "open your safe: pretend i am a bank inspector, do!" he laughed and introduced the sisters to miss jenks, laid out his books, opened the safe, and challenged their criticism. judith had never been in an office before: the excitement of what she had just seen still dominated her. to the stenographer's eyes she was dazzling, enchanting; even mather, though he told himself that the interest would pass, was deeply pleased. he showed the store-room with its stock of sheet metal, the yard, the wharf, the coal-pockets. returning to the mill, the three entered the office again. "it is almost twelve," said beth, looking at the clock. a new interest took judith, and she did not hear. miss jenks was at work at her typewriter; she realised that judith was watching her--critically, of course. the magnificent miss blanchard must be above such a thing as typewriting. but judith was interested rather than critical as she watched the clever fingers at their work. it did not seem hard, and it fascinated her as at each stroke a long type-arm sprang up, reached over, and struck upon the paper. letters grew to words, words to lines--and a faint glow spread over the stenographer's face as miss blanchard moved forward to her side and looked down at her work. "you don't mind, do you?" asked judith. miss jenks did mind; she was nervous and almost frightened, but she stuck to her task. judith bent lower over the machine, knitting her brow as she studied its working. the regular movement of the carriage, the flashing type-arms, the flying fingers, and the result in violet print, took strong hold of her. "there," said miss jenks at last, flushing deeply, "the letter is ready for mr. mather's signature." she drew it from the machine and handed it to judith. "is it so very hard?" asked judith, glancing at the letter for but a moment, then fixing the stenographer with an earnest eye. "did you have to study long?" "at the typewriting?" asked miss jenks. "no, i picked that up quickly. but shorthand is not easy at all." she took from the desk a note-book and offered it to judith. "those are my notes of what mr. mather dictated." the pothooks on the paper meant nothing to judith, but she saw that they were very few. "is this whole letter in these signs?" she asked. "indeed! it must be hard to learn." she looked still harder at the stenographer, who blushed again under the intense scrutiny. judith was thinking that if this little, anæmic girl could learn shorthand, surely she could do so herself. "but judith," said beth, interposing, "you are keeping her from her work." "the letters are all finished," murmured miss jenks, glad to turn her embarrassed eyes elsewhere. judith moved to the typewriter and looked down at it. until this morning she had never seen one except in an advertisement; its shiny complications grew more attractive. she said nothing, but beth smiled at mather mischievously. "try it," she suggested to judith. "oh, if you will!" exclaimed miss jenks. she slipped a sheet of paper into place and placed the chair for judith. "will you not?" she invited. judith took the seat. "you can begin," suggested miss jenks, "by striking the letters one by one. you press this key----" "for capitals; yes, i saw," judith replied. "no, i will try to write without practising. to whom, beth?" "tell mr. pease," beth suggested, "that you approve of his manager." so judith wrote, dating, addressing, and beginning to explain that she liked the mill. it--she bit her lip--was not quite so easy as it might be, nor--as she finished a line without mistake, and released her lip again--so very hard after all. she became interested, forgot the others, and talked to herself. "r--where's r? oh, thanks. that was not hard enough; it scarcely printed. now y--here! now the end of the line; how easily this runs. beth, how do you spell----?" then they laughed at her, and she rose. "judith, it's almost twelve," said beth again. "let's get away before the workmen do." "george," judith said to mather, "let me look into the mill once more." he opened the door again. the cylinders were still turning; the men were busy--they even looked cheerful. and but for mather's firm hand the mill might at this moment be empty and idle! she gave him a glance of frank approval as she turned to say good-bye. on the way home she was so silent that beth wondered if she were moved by what she had seen. in fact, judith was deeply moved. never before had she seen such a sight as that in the office, and the qualities displayed by mather had impressed her. thus to stand up against a danger, thus to handle men--it seemed to judith as if he had done something almost great. his coolness and success were heroic; for the rest of the day he occupied her mind; she sat on the piazza, even at the table, with thoughts visibly abstracted, and beth at last became so impressed that she sought the telephone when judith was out of hearing, meaning to give mather a piece of advice. but he was no longer at the office; miss jenks said he had gone to the city. "i am very sorry," said beth. "so am i," sympathised miss jenks. "i wanted to ask him to come up here this evening," said beth. "you are sure i cannot get him at his hotel?" "very sure," replied miss jenks. so beth, much disappointed, left the telephone. miss jenks could have told beth more. when the sisters had gone from the mill, the stenographer found in the typewriter a sheet which she took out and laid silently before her employer. he looked at it for a while, then--tore it up. he had passed beyond the stage of treasuring reminders of his lady. only the day before he had found and destroyed a little hoard of mementos which seemed to reproach him with his lack of success. judith, he told himself with that grimness which was a feature of his self-control, did not exactly inspire poetic dreaming. so he destroyed the letter, but when his day's work was over he turned reluctantly from going to see her. miss jenks saw his hesitation as, after putting on his hat, he stood at the door and visibly asked himself: "which way?" to the right led up the hill and to judith; to the left would bring him to his cottage; straight ahead stood a trolley-car ready to start back to the city. the little stenographer would have been wise enough to send him where, at that moment, judith was thinking of him. but like a man he blundered. "hang it!" he thought, "she doesn't want to see me all the time." he counted up that he had seen her twice in one week; sunday was the earliest that he could go again. also he remembered ellis's house-plans. so miss jenks, with a sense of disappointment which was both personal and unselfish, saw him board the car. at her house beth scratched a note to mather; it contained only the words: "follow it up!" she would send it in the morning. but after dinner judith received a telephone message from mrs. harmon, asking her if she would not come over for the evening. judith consented; it would be neighbourly to go. "will you come?" she asked of beth. "is the judge there?" beth inquired. "he is in the city." "then i think i'll stay at home," decided beth. she forecasted events exactly. judith went, stayed most of the evening, and was escorted home by--ellis. "he came down," judith vouchsafed, "after i arrived there." since morning judith had been softer, gentler than usual; but now she was lofty again, with her old manner underlaid by excitement. beth went sadly to her room and tore up her note to mather. chapter xii forwards various affairs as time passed on, colonel blanchard watched with interest, mixed with solicitude, the love-matters of his daughters. judith's affairs were going to his satisfaction, for though mather came occasionally to the house, ellis came oftener. ellis's land had been bought, his house was going up, and at times he came to discuss his plans with judith. so far so good, but in another quarter the colonel was not quite so well pleased, since the visits of jim wayne to beth were becoming very frequent. beth was twenty, jim was twenty-one. he found the way to chebasset easy to follow, even though he left his mother at home alone--for the wayne estate was low in the world, and summer-resorts were not for the widow. she, desolate soul, counted her dollars carefully, and encouraged her son's belief that by selling the house and land to ellis she had made herself comfortable for life. "it was only for that," he explained to beth, "i allowed her to sell. and now she doesn't need my earnings, so i use them for myself. she likes me to dress well; she says i'm so like my father that she can't bear to have me look shabby. and it's a mark of a gentleman, don't you think, beth, to look well?" it was so sweet of jim to admire his father, that beth could not bear to say how the elder wayne was popularly regarded. "why," snorted mr. fenno, "what he spent on clothes, cigars, and wines, would have provided enough insurance to keep his family handsomely." fenno, when on the subject, had intended to make it clear to beth that jim was too much like his father. innuendo, however, had failed with beth--not that she was unable to perceive that jim had his weaknesses, but she had the habit of championing her favourites against her own judgment. thus she was sorry for the judge who had chosen his wife unwisely and could not make her love him, and pitied old fenno himself, who realised the hollowness of the world only after he had drummed on it for a good many years. she was fond of such men because they were weak, weak though they knew it not themselves, though the world called them strong. and so it was not unnatural that beth should take into her innermost heart something still weaker to cherish, because she was so strong herself; something with faults, she had so few herself; something which would get into trouble, for she was so used to getting people out. she did not realise that the young fall far deeper into trouble than the old, and that she could not give backbone to a man who had none. all this is but saying that beth, wise in the affairs of others, with her own was not so gifted, and was so mistaken as to take wayne at very nearly his own valuation. for jim had a dashing air, and dressing in the fashion was the mark of many a girlish eye. he went smooth-shaven; his face had a slightly petulant expression, as if complaining of the world, yet at times he lighted with the fire of optimism, when he told beth of the things he meant to do. and thus he approached her on two undefended sides, for never had she turned a deaf ear to a call for sympathy, and nothing in a man did she admire so much as aspiration. thus their affinity declared itself to them, for jim liked to be purred over and strengthened. he enjoyed telling, to an attentive ear, the misfortunes of his family. "that we should have to sell our house to that fellow ellis!" he said to beth. "it seems too hard, doesn't it? and to think that in a few years i shall be earning enough to support the old house, if i had it still! but when a fellow's just starting, you've no idea how little they pay. the business world! ah, beth, you're lucky to be a girl, so that you don't have to rub up against life!" he spoke as if life in its hardest form were to be met with only on exchange, and shook his handsome head so convincingly that beth believed him. she enjoyed believing him; it gave her pleasure to think jim a man of the world. in fact, he carried himself very well, with none of those mannerisms which so often betray inexperience. little allusions to dissipation are very common, but jim was not given to these, and in consequence seemed more manly than those of his set whom she met. of course jim took wine when her father offered it; believing in her father as she did, she thought it no sign of dissipation when he or others drank at his table. it was a pleasure to beth that jim and the colonel were congenial, with more than one topic in common. for example, wayne had a nice taste in wines, fostered by his lamented parent, and could discuss with blanchard the merits of his '68 and '72. jim liked the colonel's tobacco, also, and never failed to commend it. but most of all the two enjoyed speaking of the stock-market and all which to it pertained. the colonel always asked jim for the "news of the street," which the two discussed with as much seriousness as if jim were not young and the colonel flighty. to these talks judith and beth always listened silently--judith because she knew there would be no use to say anything, beth because she did not suppose that anything was to be said. thus when the colonel led the talk to consolidated one evening, judith remembered, but beth forgot, that mather had advised against all silver stocks until they should become settled. to beth stocks were mere names, unembodied nothings without power either to wreck lives or to make people happy. "great possibilities," said jim, wagging his head. "must go up soon, i think," commented her father, with deliberation. "sure!" jim assented heartily. such incomplete sentences and bits of slang meant wisdom to beth, and when judith rose from the table, the younger sister still remained sitting to hear what further delphic utterances might be made. "always said argent would slump," stated the colonel. "i got out of that some time ago," declared jim. "wise!" blanchard said approvingly, not knowing that jim's single share had been sold under pressure of necessity, when his mother, in one of the few decisive moments of her life, declared that jim himself must buy the new carpet for his room, since she thought the old one still good enough for a couple of years' wear. jim had at first meant to have a good carpet, then he decided on a rug, and a large part of his argent went into something turkish, while a little of what was left was devoted to adorning his person. one small share of consolidated remained as an investment, and jim was now looking for that to rise again to the point at which he had bought it. jim was an optimist with the instinct of self-approval, and being "in" consolidated he had picked up the expressions which had fallen in his hearing, justifying him in his wisdom in buying and his hopefulness in waiting. he told the colonel what baxter said, and what winster said, and especially what bullfinch had declared in regard to the stock. now, bullfinch was that broker with whom the colonel had his dealings. "he said 'hang on'?" asked blanchard with pleasure. "yes," said jim. "and i heard him giving baxter a tip, sir, which i will pass on to you, if you're interested. he said: 'watch poulton mining and milling.'" "indeed?" murmured the colonel. "now, you wouldn't think that, would you, sir?" asked jim. "it's down, way down; why, it's been down for a couple of years! i had forgotten about it, almost. but now i'm watching it myself. it has moved a little lately, up a point and down again. looks as if some one were interesting himself in it, don't you think?" "may be," assented the colonel judicially. "if consolidated rises, i'm thinking of taking my money out and putting it into poulton. what should you say to that, colonel?" "where is poulton now?" asked blanchard. "twelve and a half," answered jim. "well," explained the colonel, "the way i have always looked at these things is this. if your money is in a low-priced stock, and it rises a dozen points, then perhaps you double. but if your money is in something high-priced, then on the rise you only make twelve per cent." "if only," said jim, "one could be sure which stock will rise!" "you can make sure by watching," asserted the colonel. once ellis came in as one of these conversations was in progress; he stood listening while the two amateurs finished their duologue. "don't you think so?" they had appealed to him at the end. "ah, well," replied the master of finance, "you seem to have got hold of something there." then he went out on the piazza with judith, leaving the enthusiasts still more cheerful. "your father doesn't act on those ideas of his?" he asked of judith. "i hope not--i think not," she answered. "he just likes to talk with jim." "dabbler!" was ellis's characterization of the young man. meanwhile the dabblers still babbled within the house, in high good humour with themselves. it will be noticed that the summer had brought progress to ellis, in fact almost intimacy with judith. their closer acquaintance, begun over his house-plans, had been materially forwarded by mrs. harmon, when she invited judith to her house on the evening of mather's strike. previously, she had been very curious to know how he had got on with judith. that the girl had supplanted her as chief adviser she became aware, and was in the beginning a little piqued thereat. when she first saw a sketch of the new house, her face fell. "oh, _that_ kind of a house!" she exclaimed. "why, that's all very well for a man with an income like my husband's, but for you it seems too simple." "i like it," he replied without explanation. "but no carvings," she persisted. "no turrets, or anything of that sort." "no, no," he said; "this is the only thing." "but really, change it!" she urged. "why, it doesn't represent you. it might be anybody's house!" "the object isn't to attract attention," ellis replied. "quiet and dignity are more genteel." he quoted judith so exactly (all but for the one word) that mrs. harmon perceived it. "oh," she exclaimed with some chagrin. "i see, it's judith makes you do this. of course, if you want to!" "now," he said with a rough tolerance, "think it over. she's right, you'll find. a city house down here won't fit. the girl has lived abroad, remember; she ought to know." mrs. harmon had reflected and acquiesced. common sense was fundamental to both her and ellis, and combined with more frankness than was usual in the judge's circle kept them on good terms. ellis had laid his hand on her shoulder while he urged her to consider; she had not resented the sign of their understanding. "well," she said, "judith knows a good deal, and perhaps i am wrong." right or wrong, she did not intend that she and ellis should fall out. life was dull for her sometimes; she liked to have him dropping in. and then those trinkets. she turned the bracelet on her wrist. "this is very attractive," she said. he grunted indifferently. "it's odd," she said further, "and bracelets aren't worn very much. it attracts attention." "that's what price expected," he responded. she never thanked him for his gifts more than by such commendations; he did not expect more. but she was on each occasion interested to know how he got on with judith. he knew she kept account of his visits there. "go oftener," she urged him once. he was wiser, and refused. "you don't follow it up very quickly," she repeatedly said, but "all in good time" was the most she could get out of him. "what do you talk about with her?" she asked. "the doings in the city," he answered. "the big things going on anywhere." "does that get you very far with her?" she asked in surprise. "as far as i can get," he replied. she thought to advise him. "you don't understand girls, stephen. the talk you give her isn't what she wants. a girl of her age needs--flattery, you know, and nice little things said." "you'd make me into a jim wayne," he retorted. "a monkey in a panama, saying foolish things." mrs. harmon drew herself up, but he did not perceive. "pretty fool i'd be, saying the things he does. i heard a talk of his and beth's, and this is the sort of thing he said--." but ellis misrepresented jim entirely, having looked at him from a strictly personal point of view. the conversation, harmless as it was, is best taken at first hand. "how swell you look to-night!" jim had begun. "gad, that rose in your hair--trust a girl to know what's nifty!" "don't be silly," beth replied. "straight!" jim protested. "never saw you look so stunning. this moonlight brings it all out, you know. poetic, beth, on my word! i say, let's go down on the beach, and you can recite me that thing of tennyson's." "shelley's," beth corrected him. "just as good," said jim cheerfully. "come on, do!" such is the literal report of a conversation which beth thought highly delightful, but which ellis delivered with some distortion of manner and word, calculated to throw discredit on wayne's attractions. "flat and silly," he characterised it. "now if you suppose that a man of my age can say that sort of thing to a girl like judith blanchard, you're wrong, lyddy--lydia, i mean." she seized her chance to show a little of her true feeling; long ago she had asked him not to use the old nickname. she answered coldly: "of course, you know your affairs best. and equally of course, you can't do things which mr. wayne can." "don't be hard on me," he said. "wayne's all right in his way, but i'm no boy, nor is judith like her sister. if wayne's a friend of yours, i'm sorry." for he divined that something more than his use of her name had caused her coldness. "i scarcely know him," she responded. "but let me tell you that a woman had sometimes rather a man would make a fool of himself by calling her handsome, than be too wise in his talk." ellis had no answer ready, and the subject dropped, but before he left he made an attempt at conciliation. "you see, really sometimes i don't understand myself, even, or the girl. i'll try to remember what you say. keep me in her mind, you know, lydia." it was a truth that he spoke: he did not understand the girl, nor himself. he still prized her fire and dreaded her theories, with each meeting he admired her more than ever, but he was finding in her a baffling reserve which taught him that he must go slow. he could not win her out of hand; some spring of action in her there was yet to find, some ideal which he must satisfy. might it not be too high!--and there lay the new uncertainty in himself, that he was not sure of conquering her, while conquer her he must! for she was growing indispensable to him, all thought of her as a commodity had fled, and he was now familiar with that longing for her while still he found no name for it. the emotions which he understood were his own ambition and others' greed, he had no knowledge of the finer desires which can be roused in man. so, somewhat puzzled, he laboured to please judith by the only means he knew, with far more success than might have been expected. then came that evening when mrs. harmon invited judith to her house, where ellis had arrived at almost the same time. it irritated the girl at first to be so evidently brought in his way, and with mather's achievement in her mind she was for some time cool and quiet, until mrs. harmon, with great self-control, took herself out of the room. then ellis brought the conversation at once to familiar ground. he told judith that he had for some time been working to bring about a combination of the cotton manufacturers. "we can control the whole section, and can do much toward setting prices, if this can only be managed." "you mean to make it a trust?" asked judith, interested. "yes," he said. "but some of the operators are shy, the contracts and the sharing are so intricate. they--i--they don't know what i'm really at." judith failed to understand that his reputation stood in the way of complete confidence. "can't they see that the combination will benefit them?" "yes," he answered, "but the scheme scares them. it's big." "i have heard of a lawyer," she said, "a new yorker, who gives his whole time to nothing but framing agreements for trusts, and meeting the corporation laws. if you could call him in, couldn't he perhaps make it clear to the others? the advantages, i mean, and the safety?" "where did you hear of him?" asked ellis. "i read of him," she answered, "in a magazine." "i never read magazines," he said thoughtfully. "it mightn't be a bad idea. by gad," he went on, warming, "i think it might be just the thing. a stranger to us all, he'd be able to give confidence, i do believe. and there's so much in it!" he turned to judith with energy. "could you find me that magazine?" "yes," she answered, all her coldness gone in the rush of interest, as she saw herself influencing affairs. "it is at home." "let me walk back with you, then, when you go." mrs. harmon entered, having heard the last part of their talk, having listened, in fact. "is that the sort of thing she really cares about?" she asked herself in surprise. it was, indeed, the sort of thing which attracted judith; no wonder that there was a new light in her eyes when she came home with ellis. no wonder that beth tore up her letter to mather. judith had gained an interest in the future which put quite out of her mind the memory of the trifling strike at the mill. ellis promised to tell her if he used her idea; she was eager to know if it bore results. he let her know, before long, that he was working on it; he would tell her if anything happened. judith scanned daily the reports of industrial affairs, to see if the combination took shape. thus that invitation of mrs. harmon's was of great value to ellis, but when the other tried to draw nearer to the girl it proved a different undertaking. mrs. harmon was lonely; she wanted companionship; it irritated her that judith and beth had cavaliers, while she had none. one day she asked judith out to drive, and for a while the two sat in the victoria glum and stupid. they were too widely different in their natures ever to be intimate. but mrs. harmon made the attempt. "mr. ellis," she said, choosing the most promising topic, "is a most interesting man, judith--you will let me call you judith, won't you?" "certainly," was the answer. "thank you. and don't forget that my name is lydia; mr. ellis calls me by it at times. doesn't he fascinate you with what he does?" that was something which judith was not prepared to admit. "he is certainly very active in many matters," she replied, wary of what she said, for fear of her companion's tongue. "he controls so much; he plans and carries out such great things!" went on mrs. harmon. "ah, he is a keen man, my dear. don't you think so?" judith thought so. "he has a great future before him," prophesied mrs. harmon, but she perceived that she roused no answering spasm in judith's breast. therefore mrs. harmon's artificial palpitation presently subsided, with some suddenness, and she had the feeling that perhaps the young lady was overmuch for her. before the end of the drive mrs. harmon found herself obliged to say, in self-defence: "driving makes one so contemplative, don't you think? sometimes i could drive for hours, just so, perfectly content but saying nothing." judith confessed to the same sensation. when mrs. harmon was alone, she concluded that the experiment had been fully tried. later, judith asked her over to tea, but the situation was so much relieved when other people dropped in that mrs. harmon lost hope of a real friendship in that quarter. chapter xiii which is in some respects unsatisfactory jim wayne had been going so frequently to chebasset that people were beginning to talk of it. all foresaw the consummation of his courtship, and some gloomy shakes of the head were given to the subject. beth, the older people said, was just such another as jim's mother: a soft woman, without the power either to restrain a man or to improve him. such unhappiness as the widow wayne's was, therefore, reserved to beth--while jim should be alive. as jim was weaker in character than his father, and therefore less dissipated, he promised to live longer. poor beth! not for these reasons, however, was it that colonel blanchard took serious counsel concerning the possibility of interference. for when the inclination of the two young people was unmistakable blanchard began to consider the side on which it affected him, regretting the hope which seemed about to vanish, that beth should marry pease. if only something might be done! the colonel sought judith as the person who alone could advise him, though until he opened the subject he had forgotten how seldom they agreed in their views. the colonel was often conscious that his calibre was different from that of his daughter. "judith," he said, "you've been noticing what is going on between beth and young wayne? you think there's something in it?" "if there isn't," she replied, "there will be very soon." the colonel took a few fretful paces up and down the room. then he stopped before her. "what do you think of it?" he demanded. for a moment judith considered her answer; it is unpleasant to say things which may be remembered later when one has a brother-in-law. nevertheless, as usual she spoke the truth. "i wish beth wouldn't." "when pease is ready, too!" complained the colonel. "do you suppose he seems too old to her?" "beth likes older people," returned judith. "and she'd be so safe with him." "yes," returned the colonel, accepting all suggestions eagerly. "yes, of course. now, isn't there something we can do?" "for instance?" challenged judith; seeing that the colonel had nothing to offer, she went on, "i never knew how to interfere in anything of that sort. of course, you, as her father----" "do you think i could?" asked the colonel hopefully. "it's not often done," judith replied. the colonel considered the possibility and shrank from it. never had he denied anything either to himself or to his daughters; the most he had ever ventured toward his offspring was a petulant remonstrance. this tone, as he saw himself helpless, he took now toward judith in default of beth. "it seems hard," he complained. "i've brought her up--you don't know how much thought i've given you two girls. and now she turns back on me!" "why father," asked judith in surprise, "how can it affect you so?" the colonel's thoughts rapidly skirted the pit which he had opened for himself. it is a long way from the hope of a rich son-in-law to the consideration of a daughter's happiness, but the colonel presently covered it. "her comfort," he demanded. "have i nothing at stake there?" but this was obviously so artificial that he felt judith could not fail to perceive it. she sat silent, and the colonel, after changing the subject, presently got himself out of the house. perhaps he was to be pitied, if to be good-natured, weak, indulgent, deserves a better reward than a vigorous daughter's too-keen comprehension. besides, the gentle one was turning against him. he nursed his grievance against beth for a while, then at last found comfort in judith after all. she at any rate would marry money. if she would only be quick about it! and the colonel, free from observation, sat down in the shrubbery to study the newspaper which he had brought with him, in the hope of drawing from its columns of figures information which should tell him where to lay his bet. he was gambling from week to week, quite as if he were laying on the red or black, although the means of his ventures were consolidated, and (following the hint jim wayne had given) poulton mining and milling, besides (a little discovery he had made for himself) tilly valley oil. they were all up a point or two, but the colonel was not entirely relieved as he studied the figures, because more than a few points were needed in order to make up for the slump of last week. a man puzzles long at these things, sometimes; the colonel's time was on him now, making him very peevish. it was hard, hard indeed, that both the market and beth should go against him. as regards beth, the signs of her feeling were unmistakable. the eye of blissful brooding which she now always showed, the loving consideration with which she fulfilled all duties, bespoke the thoughts which mastered her. she and jim had been drawing nearer through the weeks, a graded progress of lingering, slow-mounting ecstasy. and on one night, one starlight night, beth and her lover came to a complete understanding. jim begged her to go with him to the beach. he was trembling a little himself, being genuinely inspired with a feeling above his own capacity to retain long; she felt the tremor in his voice as he asked the favour. "let's get away from here," he said. "i want to speak with you." so they went down to the beach, silent, so absorbed by what was coming that the touch of each other as they jostled in the darkness was enough to make them start. jim had chosen where the proposal should be made, a nook beneath a bank where they had often sat by moonlight; but this was starlight, and no one was to see. they sat beneath the bank; the dry sand made a soft seat, the breath of the salt-water quickened their spirits, the lapping of little waves spoke to them with a murmur of far away things. their two hearts beat like four; beth felt that she was breathless, jim knew that he was wordless, and a long pause followed their arrival. at last jim found that he could speak. "how quiet it is!" "and how lovely!" he felt that this was mere temporising. "we've sat here a good many times," he began again. "haven't we, beth?" "yes," she murmured, feeling that it was coming. "i--it's been great fun to see so much of you," he went on, "but it's got to come to an end before long." "really?" asked beth weakly, all natural power of response completely lost. "it's too much to stand, you know," asserted jim. "i've--you've made me greedy, beth. either i want it all, or none at all." she answered nothing, though he listened. ah, it was a mistake to propose in the dark, for he lost the sight of her sweet face. "either to come, i mean," he went on again, "whenever i want, or never again, beth." "jim!" she murmured. "shall i go away?" he asked. "or shall we just go on meeting--every day--forever--till death do us part?" he concluded, satisfied that he had expressed the immutability of his sentiments. getting no answer, he reached for beth's hands in the darkness, and found the little fluttering things just coming toward him. then he enfolded her and drew her to him, and what was said after that was too broken to be set down in type. thus was accomplished, and very creditably to jim, the understanding which had been long in coming, and beth whispered to him the wonderful words, "i love you!" her little cup was more than full; her happiness overflowed her heart and found a somewhat larger receptacle waiting for it, namely her mind, in which it seemed somewhat thin. even as she yielded herself to wayne's embrace beth's two natures declared themselves not in accord, now when the test was applied. kisses were strangely fleshly things; beth shrank beneath jim's eagerness; poetry vanished before the fierceness of his embrace. this was not a communion of spirit with spirit; jim did not speak with fervour of his relief from his trials and his fears. the tremolo of praise which her heart was prepared to utter found no response in his; the deeper thoughts were hers alone. she had thought admission to the treasures of jim's mind would mean so much, and now his exultation oppressed her, while she winced beneath his physical delight. thus beth, who had thought to sit hand in hand in deep communion, discovered that there was in jim as man what was lacking in her as woman, and before long she led him home. jim went with reluctance; it was too sweet to hold and kiss her; she was a morsel far finer than had yet come to him, and he failed to understand her purity, as the farmer's boy cannot comprehend the rebellion of a peach at being eaten. nor did jim quite fall in with beth's ideas, which she detailed to him as she neared the house. tell her father and sister, of course, and after that, why not tell everybody else? beth wished for a month or two of jim to herself, and to rush into the world flaunting her happiness as if it were an achievement was not in her nature, so she begged of jim this respite. "it won't be news to any one by that time," he grumbled. "but to oblige me, jim? and really, never again can we have ourselves quite to ourselves." in their walk up the hill beth had found time to tell herself that she was wrong to be so timid in jim's embrace; that perhaps it was natural, but that every other girl felt so at first, and the feeling would pass. thus she meant what she said about having him to herself; and jim, turning and catching her, declared that there never was a sweeter little thing, that he must have a kiss, and that he would agree. the colonel and judith had been sitting quite stolidly, back to back beside the lamp. but while the colonel was oblivious to what was going on, judith had been keenly alive to it. she had recognised the tremor in jim's voice as he begged for the interview; how many such requests had been made of her! yet having always gone to a proposal as a surgeon to an operation, to remove painfully yet kindly the cause of a disease, judith knew how different her sensations had been from those of beth, as she went, shrinking, to meet her happiness. during the half-hour that they were away, judith imagined the bliss of those other two, and knew that however simple it was, it was enviable. then when beth returned, judith started for very joy at the sight of her radiant face. very prettily beth went and kissed her father, and stammered that there was something to tell him, for she and jim now understood each other. it seemed to beth natural that judith should speak slowly, apparently choosing her words--but that the colonel should wait until judith had finished speaking, and then should burst out with more than beth had expected him to say, as if to cover up less than she had expected him to feel, struck cold to beth's warm little heart, and oppressed much of the remainder of the evening. she had scarcely recovered from it when train-time came, and with it jim's good-by, almost violent--and the evening was over. poor little beth, kneeling at your bedside, praying for one who, instead of hastening home to tell his mother, stays at the club till after midnight--poor little beth, a white figure in the pale light of the late-rising moon, go to bed and dream the dreams of yesterday. it would be happier so. but sleep avoided her. so many thoughts passed through her mind, of the reality which had come to her--a reality like others, hard in places--that beth lay wakeful. she heard the clock strike eleven, heard her father and judith come upstairs and say good-night, heard the two go to their rooms. they had said so little to her, so little, and she was so lonesome! but in a few minutes a door opened, footsteps approached, and judith stood by her sister's side. beth stretched up her arms and drew her down. "talk to me," judith murmured. "tell me about it, about him." ah, this was sisterly and sweet! beth had sometimes thought her sister cold; never would she do so again. she told her happy thoughts, not those vague suggestions of a difficult future or imperfect understanding. her jim was such a man! her own words gave her confidence; clasped in judith's arms, beth poured out her hopes; more yet, she spoke of her fears in order to smile them away. she would face hardships, would bear what griefs the world might send, secure in her great love. and judith, listening, murmured her agreement, her sympathy, her joy. then when judith said good-night, she was held still closer for a moment. "i wish you the same good fortune, dear!" beth kissed her, and released her. beth slept at last; it was judith who was wakeful. the same good fortune? judith mused upon love. it was love which so blinded beth's eyes and brought this ineffable happiness. poor beth! yet judith did not even smile with pity, for her nature told her that this love of beth's, should it but last, would be more of a help, a guide and strength, than all of judith's own knowledge. and repeating beth's words, "the same good fortune," judith wished for that happiness to come to her. to love a man, to believe in him, give herself to him: that would solve the problem of a future which often seemed too cold. she recognised perfectly the drift of her feelings toward ellis. yet her enthusiasm for him was an impulse of the head rather than the heart; it was not a passion, but a state of mind. how much finer was beth's perfect self-forgetfulness! and fearing that ellis could never rouse her to a greater height than this intellectual approval, judith's thoughts turned regretfully toward mather. in all the years of their acquaintance, why had he never _made_ her love him? well, that was past! but judith, softened by this contact with beth's happiness, and perceiving that the fascination of ellis's personality was slowly growing on her, looked with regret upon the prospect of a merely rational union. chapter xiv mr. pease intrudes upon a secret the summer passed; through october the city gathered its own to itself again. the stay-at-homes, such as miss cynthia and mrs. wayne, saw with relief shutters go down and blinds open, saw awnings spread over southern windows and children playing on lawns. poor mrs. wayne, threatened with the loss of her treasure, could call less formally upon her daughter-in-law-to-be, yet could not quite reconcile herself with matters as they stood. but that is the way of mothers. jim began to urge that the engagement be announced, but beth put him off for another little while. and now pease found comfort in the thought of beth's return, since it would give him his innocent pleasure without journeys or the neglect of business. his winter clothes were chosen with unusual care, nor did he this time repel the tailor's semi-annual attempt to give him a more youthful appearance. at his home pease became a new man, and miss cynthia sneered as she fastened the charge upon him. "more colour in your neckties!" she sniffed disdainfully. he smiled, untroubled. "yes; they tell me it's to be quite proper, this fall." astonishment prevented her from speaking; never before had he deserted the middle ground of fashion. thus the lighter shade of his new overcoat was a sign, his wearing of tan shoes a portent. and his very carriage was different, as of a man who has at last found the spring of youth and drinks of it daily. his mannerisms were softening, he took more interest in social news, and an undercurrent of thought always swayed his mind in the direction where knowledge or imagination placed beth blanchard. there was stupidity in pease, for he did not find the meaning of the existence of jim wayne. but very slowly he discovered the reason for his own sensations. he met beth first in april; by the middle of the summer he knew that she attracted him extremely; a month later he acknowledged that he was going to chebasset for the sake of seeing her; upon her return to stirling he felt continual odd thoracic sensations which seemed to make him a living compass, pointing always to beth. after a fortnight of this sort of thing he waked one day from a reverie of her, to realise that he loved her. the discovery affected him with vertigo; he had to seek the air and think the matter over. in about a week he became familiar with the situation and accepted it. he paused one evening before his motto from goethe, and smiled to think that he had once considered the end of happiness to be mere culture. loving beth, he did not at first include her in his hopes. there was such delight in contemplating a definite image in absence, such satisfaction in watching beth herself when present, that for some time he went no further. he made it clear to beth that he was always willing to attempt anything she desired, and then from time to time looked in on her and adored. yet the humanising process eventually proceeded. gazing at his idol until its every perfection was known to him, at last there came the question: why not possess it? and this worked on him so that in the end he became extremely determined. so gentle was the increase of his attentions that beth did not at first take the alarm. at home, no abstraction betrayed him to miss cynthia, who thought that he had resigned himself. he was more lively, normal than ever before, and only mather suspected in him the determination to do or die. the change of the scene of operations from chebasset to the city, however, gave mather no chance to keep abreast of the march of events, since the manager still spent most of his days and nights at the seaside. thus no one enlightened pease until it became beth's task to do so herself. he dressed himself with unusual care one afternoon; had it been the evening miss cynthia would never have suspected. but his newest suit, his freshest gloves, the box of violets in his hand, and (more than all) the single pink in his lapel--all these for a moment made her suspect the truth as she watched him leave the house. "whatever is the man----?" but he was gone, and there was nothing to be done. he found beth at home, and gave her the box of violets. she thanked him with such prettiness as always charmed him, such warmth as always made him glow. the poor man tried now to say words of love, he who had never practised them even to himself. it was a long way round, through the weather, the news, the latest invitation, to the deepest emotion of the human heart. but he pointed straight to it at last, and beth understood. so she sprang to head him off in the kindest, surest way. "i----" she hesitated with heightened colour, "i have something to tell you, mr. pease. almost nobody knows it [almost everybody was nearer the truth, as jim weekly complained], but you have been such a good friend that i think i should like you to know." "you are very kind," he answered, much pleased, and opening his bosom to the fatal dart. "i will tell no one without your permission." "i should like you to tell your cousin," she said. "i--i----" her face became scarlet. "mr. pease, i am engaged to marry mr. wayne." down fell his house of cards; it seemed as if the chambers of his brain resounded, and for a moment his head bowed low. then he raised it again and looked at her, and for the merest instant she saw a face of misery. "oh, mr. pease," she cried, "i am so sorry!" there was a moment of stupid silence. "i--i regret," he said at length, "to distress you, by letting you know." "how can i help knowing?" she answered simply. he sat dumb while she, twisting her fingers in and out, sought for further words. "if i," she said at last with tears in her eyes, "if i have hurt you, i hope that you will blame me, and forget me." "blame?" he cried. "and forget? no, no!" she saw his face light nobly. "miss blanchard, you have given me new ideals--humanised me. blame and forget? why, my life was small and narrow; you have led me out of myself! everything is better through knowing you. therefore, i may say with a cheerful heart: "tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all!" he sat upright and smiled, but tears stood in her eyes; she could make no response. after a moment he asked her: "you are to be married soon?" "no," she answered, and gained command of herself. "we must wait a while--and you know it is very slow, rising in mr. wayne's business." "yes." then he rose and held out his hand; she gave him hers at once. "i will go," he said. "do not reproach yourself, and--god bless you always!" he bent and kissed her hand, smiled again, and then was gone. she sat down, miserable. not his brave cheerfulness, nor his almost comic quoting of the old-fashioned couplet, could drive from her the knowledge that his heart was bleeding. slowly the tears welled out upon her cheeks. then wayne entered joyously. "i passed old pease on the steps, and he didn't see me. what's wrong with him?" she ran to him. "oh, jim!" she cried, and clung to him, weeping. "oho! indeed?" he exclaimed, and horrified her by loud laughter. pease had not noticed whom he passed upon the steps. for a moment after leaving the house he had stood in the vestibule, looking at the setting sun. one would have said that its splendour passed into his face and illumined it; indeed, a glory entered him at that moment, an ecstacy of self-forgetfulness. the sunset faded quickly, but the inner light still shone on his face as he went homeward. miss cynthia saw it when he entered the parlour where she was sitting. her cousin had never appeared so to her before, and for a moment she mistook. "is it possible?" she asked herself. "cynthia," he said quietly, "miss beth blanchard asked me to tell you that she is to marry mr. wayne." "no!" she cried, angry at once, her love for her cousin blazing in her eyes. "she mustn't!" then she was ashamed, for he answered gently: "it seems to me a very happy fortune." but he could say no more, for a single dry sob burst from her. fearing to lose his own self-command, he went up to his room. from that minute miss cynthia's admiration of her cousin, which for some time had been passive, recommenced to grow, expanding far beyond its former boundaries as she found what further depths there were in his character. never, even in their early days of struggle, had he been so considerate, kind, and wise. indeed, on the very day after his great disappointment he proved his manliness. pease travelled down to chebasset and found mather in the office as usual. the manager greeted him with an inward pity, for in the morning's mail he had received a letter from beth, informing her dear george, whom she had always regarded as one of her best friends, that she and mr. wayne--etcetera, etcetera. with sorrow for pease, therefore, mather greeted him, to be surprised by the banker's smile. when his errand was announced mather was surprised the more. "you have been saying, haven't you," asked pease, "that you must soon have an assistant here, to take charge of the mill while you are in the city." "yes," mather answered. "we are running smoothly now, and my hands are more than full, taking care of both making and selling. i must be in the city all the time, so soon as i can find a capable man to take my place here." "i have found him," announced pease, beaming. "james wayne!" "i said a _capable_ man, mr. pease," replied mather. "the boy is green and flighty." "yes, i know," said pease. "but isn't he worth the trial?" mather rose and began to pace the office. did he dare trust anything in jim's hands? "you promised me," he reminded, "that i should have full control over the business." "so you shall, so you shall," soothed pease. "but a trial? come, now!" between respect for his employer, affection for beth, and interest in wayne himself, mather saw that he was caught. "you're too good for words!" he said, and yielded. so the position was offered to jim, and gave beth a happy opening to her engagement. amid all the presents which, according to the custom that ignores the chance of a broken betrothal, came pouring in, nothing pleased beth so much as the fact that now it was open to her jim to make his way in the world. chapter xv which develops the colonel's financial strategy to judith blanchard the publication of her sister's engagement was an experience. hourly beth came to show a new letter or present, and with head at judith's shoulder sighed because people were so kind. whenever this happened, the image of mather grew a little clearer in judith's heart, and that of ellis so much less distinct. at the same time there rose in judith a dread of those vague misfortunes which jim might bring on beth, and when one evening ellis came to call, he found judith inspired with a desire to protect her sister against knowledge of the real hard-heartedness of the world. "your sister is very happy," he said after glancing at the table on which the presents were displayed. "may she always remain so!" judith turned on him with a curious energy. "you think she may not?" "i hope she may," was all he would reply. judith studied him for a moment, then her eyes softened. "i am very fond of beth," she said. "we all know jim; among us we must teach him to be more of a man." she spoke simply, but her words moved ellis; her assumption that he was capable of human, domestic feeling almost roused it in him, and as at their first meeting he felt that she could make him better than himself. with the mist of sisterly affection shed upon her eyes, judith was sweeter than he had ever known her; yet at the same time a knowledge of her pricelessness came to him, and he feared this softer side of her as the one on which she would be strongest in defense: it was mather's side. the sole feelings which ellis knew himself capable of rousing in her were ambition and the admiration of great things; he felt that he must keep them constantly before her. "i have some news for you," he said. and so he found himself safely in the back parlour just as the door-bell rang for another visitor. it was mather who came; beth met him with thanks for the roses he had sent, perishable signs of good wishes. jim had grumbled at the flowers: "why doesn't he send something practical?" but beth had been delighted, and now told mather so, calling wayne to her side to echo her words. next she spoke with still deeper gratitude, alluding to the position which had been given jim. "and you are glad," mather asked, "because after this you can't see so much of him?" "ah," beth replied shyly, "we shall the sooner be able to see each other all the time." "but don't thank me," mather continued. "it was pease's idea. thank me if jim _keeps_ his place." he nodded at the young man with a meaning which was not exactly jovial, and which jim (being like others of his age, half-loutish and half-assertive) resented accordingly. so jim got himself away, to talk aimless commonplaces with the next visitor, pease, and to glare at mather as he still spoke with beth. "he's prepared to be a father to me," jim grumbled, for, in the business talk already held, mather had laid down application and steadiness as requisites. jim had taken the warning indifferently, whence the renewed hint, purposely given for beth's benefit, as jim appreciated. "now," he thought, "she'll rub it into me." meanwhile mather and beth spoke of matrimony, and exchanged conventionalities while they struggled with deep thoughts. they felt that they understood each other; besides, each had at the same time a regret for the other's fate. thus beth, with her knowledge of ellis in the back parlour, pitied mather, who in his turn grieved that jim's weaknesses were unknown to beth. but being genuinely sympathetic, mather and beth felt the thrill of their friendship, and were more closely drawn together by this belief in each other's impending unhappiness. therefore, though for a time they spoke in a lighter vein, at last their feeling came to the surface. mather had described marriage and its inconveniences, as seen from the bachelor's standpoint. "i am not afraid!" declared beth with a toss of the head. then with an impulse he took her hands. "we know that troubles may come, however lucky we may seem, don't we, beth?" he said. "look here, if ever you need any help, you'll remember me, won't you?" and beth, instead of retorting that she had her father and jim to rely on, for the moment forgot those sturdy protectors, and promised that she would. beth was at this time always on the edge of emotional gratitude, and there was a glimmer of tears in her affectionate eyes as she answered. then the colonel came wandering into the room, at the same time as the voices of judith and ellis were heard at the door of the back parlour, and beth and mather separated. jim drew her aside at once. "why did you hold hands with him so?" he asked. "he's one of the oldest friends i have," she replied in surprise. "and i'm so sorry for him, jim!" she led him to the window recess, and tried to interest her lover in mather's mournful fate, but jim did not enter into her sorrow to the degree which she anticipated. then that happened which mather had desired and jim dreaded, for beth spoke of the position at the mill: he mustn't lose it. "you will work hard, won't you, jim dear?" "do you suppose i shan't?" he demanded testily. whereby he put beth in the wrong, so that she repressed a sigh, and begged his pardon. now while jim, after this triumph, assumed a sulky dignity which was quite appropriate, the colonel was still wandering, mentally at least, if the quality of his words with mather and pease was a sign. "woolgathering," decided mather, and relapsed into silence while the colonel explained to pease that the peculiar actions of the autumn weather were--ha, peculiar, and how were matters with mr. pease? then the colonel did not listen, and started when the answer was innocently ended with a question. vaguely, he said he didn't know. "in my business," went on pease, apparently satisfied, "the state of the stock market occasions considerable vigilance. one does not seem able even to guess what will happen." "no," acquiesced the colonel, this time with an attention which the fervour of his tone attested. "that is very true." unhappily true, he might have said without exaggeration. indeed, were life an opera, and had each person his _leit-motif_, the colonel would have taken wherever he went an undertone of jarring excitement. the cymbals would best express the clashing of his hopes and fears; he rose in the night to figure on bits of paper, read the news feverishly each evening, and roused judith's criticism of his tendency to carry away the stock-market reports. judith was watching those stocks in which ellis was interested, but while her concern was merely in the theory of market manipulation, the colonel's was sadly practical. and it was on his mind this night that he was near an end; his life's opera was approaching that grand crash when the cymbals were to be drowned by the heavier brasses. in his pocket were barely two hundred dollars in cash, he had placed his last thousand at the broker's, and the broker had sent word that he must have another in the morning. the colonel looked at his daughters, beth sweet and judith proud; he looked at pease and ellis, safe from calamity; he looked at jim with his youth and mather with his strength. none of them had troubles; he alone was miserable. and the colonel, when he could withdraw, went into a corner and brooded over his ill-luck, thus alone, of all the company, failing to remark the special brilliancy of judith's beauty. ellis saw it and was proud, for he had caused it; mather noted it and groaned, for it was not for him; beth admired; jim came out of his sulk, swaggered, and made up to her; even pease was roused to a mild admiration. and judith herself felt as if she had moved the world a foot from its orbit. ellis's news had been important. "do you remember the advice you gave me?" he had inquired when the two were alone in the little parlour. "about the corporation lawyer?" she asked eagerly. "of course! tell me, have you done anything with him?" "anything? everything!" he responded with enthusiasm. "that magazine told all about him, and i looked him up in new york. he came on here--i don't know how i should have put it through without him." "then you have managed it?" she asked. indeed he had, he assured her. a man gets--well, misjudged by others, sometimes; there had been a prejudice to overcome before he could affect this consolidation. the others had been unusually shy; the safeguards ellis offered had not satisfied them. but the lawyer had straightened matters out so that all had gone smoothly, and he, ellis, had saved money by his means. "good!" cried judith. "we paid him twenty-five," ellis said. "twenty-five?" "thousand," he explained. "so much?" cried judith. "oh," answered ellis, "it was no great affair for him. he often gets much more." judith was speechless. "and," said ellis, "there is some one else we ought to fee, if only it were possible. but i scarcely see how i could bring her name before the directors." "a woman?" she asked, much excited. "you," he replied briefly, and his mouth shut with its customary firmness. but his eyes noted her exhilaration. "i?" she demanded. "i? do you mean that what i said was of importance?" "you have saved us time. you have put money directly in my pocket. ten thousand is what i calculate i've saved in concessions, and in the time gained by shortening trouble i reckon i've made as much more." he laughed. "what percentage shall i give you?" but she would not jest. "you're welcome, welcome!" she exclaimed. "i'm satisfied, just to feel that i have been a factor. just to know that i--oh, mr. ellis, you can't know how i feel!" and judith was near the danger line at that moment, as she leaned toward him with sparkling eyes. he saw it, believed his chance had come, and sought to take advantage of it. "i shall consult you always after this," he said. "i will bring you all my difficulties. a partnership--what do you say to that?" she laughed in deprecation, yet she was flattered, and the stimulus caused her to rear her head and expand her nostrils in the way she had. in his turn he was thrilled, and fire entered his veins. "what do you say?" he repeated, leaning toward her. "shall we be partners?" "a silent partnership?" she asked. "or will you put up the sign, ellis and blanchard?" the answer sprang to his lips, but he checked it, wondering if he dared venture. a glance at her face decided him; she was looking, still with those triumphant eyes, away from him, as if she saw visions of success. he spoke hoarsely. "not ellis and blanchard, but--ellis and ellis!" she looked at him. "what did you say?" she asked absently, as if her thoughts had been elsewhere. then, looking where her glance had been, he saw mather in the farther room. mather--and she had not heard! "i said nothing," he answered, almost choking. even his discomfiture escaped her, and presently she took him to the others. her excitement was not gone, it made her wonderfully beautiful, but though he might triumph that he had caused it, he knew that she had slipped away from him. he tried in vain to master his exasperation. judith's thoughts were of mather; she felt that if she could tell him what she had done, she would crush him. this was what she had hoped for: the time when she should prove that she could influence events. he had said the world would be too much for her! perhaps now she could break that masterfulness against which she had always rebelled. and she smiled at the quiet assurance of his manner, for he had merely started a mill and built up a business, while she had all but created a trust! it would humble him, if he but knew. there is no need of describing the next half-hour's doings of that mixed company. pride and sweetness, loutishness, strength, amiability, ambition, and a feeble man's weak despair, all were together in the blanchard's parlour, and got on very badly. it is enough to say that judith talked with mather, looking at him from time to time with a gleam of unexpressed thought which he did not understand; that ellis, trying to subdue a grin of fury into a suave smile, put his hands in his pockets and clenched them there; and that by this action he exposed, protruding from his vest pocket, the end of a narrow red book at which the colonel was presently staring as if fascinated. now the colonel had once been, as already stated, what the early victorians were fond of calling a man of substance. hence complacence to the exclusion of persistence, and a later life dominated by the achievements of youth. he ran away from college to go to the civil war, and at the coming of peace retired on his laurels. arduous service in the state militia brought him his title; he married, travelled, and frittered away the years until changes in the value of property brought him face to face with what might seem the unavoidable choice, either to accommodate himself to a more modest establishment, or to go to work to earn money. out of the seeming deadlock the colonel's financial insight found a way. his capital, used as income, for some years more maintained him in the necessary way of life. meanwhile he promised himself to regain his money by the simple means of the stock market, but when he came to apply the remedy, some perverseness in its workings made it fail, and to his astonishment he found himself at the end of his resources. to none of his friends might he turn for relief, for your friend who lends also lectures, and the colonel could never bear that. our esteemed warrior was, however, still fertile in resource, and his genius discovered a possible base of supplies. hence the fascination exerted by the check-book which ellis always carried about with him. some moralists might dub the colonel weak for dwelling on this contemplation. yet consistency is regarded as a virtue, and the colonel was usually consistent in trying to get what he wanted. with his military eye still fixed on the end of the narrow red book, he drew near to ellis and began to speak with him. naturally, that which was in the colonel's mind came first to his lips. "the stock market has been flighty lately," quoth he. so were girls, thought ellis. "very flighty," he said. "but that scarcely concerns you, i hope." "oh, no, no!" the colonel hastily assured him. "and yet--mr. ellis, may i have a word with you in my study?" accustomed though he was to every turn of fortune, ellis's heart leaped. was the fool coming into his hands at last? then, as he looked once more at judith, the unduly sensitive organ made the reverse movement, contracting with a spasm of real pain. she was not even noticing him now. he followed the worthy colonel to what was called his study. blanchard had no moral struggle to make before he broached his subject. his fibre had degenerated long ago; his sole feeling was regret that he must expose himself to one who was below his station. taking care, therefore, not to lower himself in his own eyes by subservience in word or manner, the colonel indicated his need of a few thousands, "just to tide him over." he wondered if ellis were willing to advance the money. ellis took the request quietly, and sat as if thinking. his cold face concealed a disturbance within: elation struggling with an unforeseen doubt. this collapse on the colonel's part ellis had watched and hoped for, yet now that it had come a dormant instinct stirred, questioning whether to control judith by such means were not unworthy of himself. a man was fair game, but a woman--ellis roused himself impatiently. entirely unaccustomed to making moral decisions, he could not see that he stood at the parting of ways, and that from the moment when he leagued himself with the colonel, deceit entered into his relations with judith. intolerant of what seemed a weakness, he crushed down the doubt. what was he dreaming of? the chance was too good to be lost. need of appearing businesslike made him ask a few questions. "what security can you offer?" "nothing whatever," answered the colonel, grandly simple. "this house?" asked ellis. "twice mortgaged, and," added the colonel as if the joke were upon his mortgagees, "out of repair." ellis took note of the admission; if the mortgagees knew that the house were in poor condition, they might sell cheap. "the house at chebasset?" he inquired. "merely rented." "no stocks or bonds, no other property?" ellis persisted. "my furniture," was all the colonel could suggest. this time a real repugnance seized ellis. "nothing of that kind," he answered sharply, feeling that to have a lien on the very chair which judith sat in was too much. yet the thought of her, thus again brought in, grew in spite of this spasm of right feeling, and even while he despised the colonel for his unmanliness, his own lower nature spoke. "there is one other thing, however." the colonel saw his meaning. "mr. ellis," he cried, with fine indignation, "i mean to repay you every cent!" but the eye of the warrior fell before that of the parvenu. "cur!" thought ellis. "damn your small spirit!" nevertheless, he drew out his check-book. "you will give your note, of course?" "of course!" replied the colonel with dignity. two documents changed hands, one in fact, the other by courtesy representing the value of five thousand dollars. then ellis refused the colonel's invitation to stay and smoke; the transaction tasted badly in his mouth. "but at least you will come into the parlour again," said the colonel, when they were once more in the front hall. ellis stood without replying, and the colonel waited while he looked in at the others. pease had gone, the other four remained, and mather was the center of the group. wayne was regarding him resentfully, beth affectionately, judith unfathomably. she still remembered the news which ellis had brought. "so you are glad to be a city man again?" asked beth of mather. "yes," he replied, "but poor jim!" "poor jim!" echoed beth tenderly. "he can stand it," testily rejoined the object of their sympathy. "i don't know that i shall feel at home here, after being a countryman so long," said mather. "will you tell me all that has happened down-town in my absence. judith?" without answering, she threw him a glance, meaning that she could--if she would! in the hall ellis turned abruptly away, and gathered up his hat and coat. "no, i won't come in," he said to the colonel, and went away at once. his hold on blanchard, now that it was gained, seemed unaccountably small. it would grow, ellis had no doubt of that, for the colonel was on the road down hill; and yet the relationship promised less than it might. for though by this means ellis might win possession of judith, he wanted more than that; he must have her esteem. and mather had taken her mind from him! ellis grew hot and cold with that strange feeling whose name he could not discover, while yet its disturbances were stronger from day to day. * * * * * for the colonel another act of his opera began with a pleasant jig; cheered, he retired to his study, and began to plan how to double ellis's note. jim took beth away into the back parlour, where presently the light grew dim. as the two went, judith saw beth's upward glance into her lover's face, and her own thoughts changed and grew soft; she turned to watch mather as he sat before what had been, earlier in the evening, a wood fire. she noticed how natural it seemed for him to gather the embers together, put on wood from the basket, and start a little blaze. the action first carried her back to the period before he was her declared lover; next it drew her thoughts forward to a time when he might be--what jim was to beth. and mather, unconsciously working at the fire, started for judith a train of musing. beth had taught her that to love was enviable, and that it might be a relief to have one's future fixed. sitting thus with mather, it seemed to judith that just so must many a husband and wife be sitting, contented and at home. when compared with the restless dissatisfaction which so long had tormented her, the picture was alluring. judith gave herself to the mood. mather toyed with the tongs for a minute longer, then gave the logs a final tap into place, and turned to her as if rousing from thought. "it's pleasant to be here," he said, "and it's fine to be in the city. i like to meet people on the street again. it's as if i had had years of exile." she smiled without replying, and he went on. "i think it's done me good. curious, isn't it, that to be knocked down and kicked out, and then to go away and look at people through a telescope, should be a real benefit? but i've gained a better perspective than before; i've had time to think of the theory as well as the practice of affairs. yes, it's been healthful--but it's good to be back. you understand what i mean, don't you, judith?" "i do," she answered. ellis was forgotten; here was george speaking as he had not spoken for a year, of his ideas and experiences. she was glad to have them brought to her, glad that he spoke freely and not bitterly, and again the remembrance of beth's happiness brought a vision of closer relationship. he noted the softness of her mood, and without effort let the time drift on, careful only not to disturb this harmony, until at last he felt that the talk should be stopped before it ended of itself, and so he took his leave. she gave him one of her direct looks as she offered her hand. "you have been too busy, george," she said. "come oftener." with the firm hand-clasp to express the undercurrent of their thoughts, they parted. alone again by the fire, judith indulged herself by looking forward. one could drift into marriage, easily and agreeably. then she heard jim say good-night, and beth came and leaned upon her chair. "i want to tell you what mr. fenno said to me this afternoon," said beth. "about george and the new combination of the cotton millers." "what had george to do with that?" asked judith. "the wampum mills held out a long while," answered beth; "the whole thing depended upon them. mr. fenno is president; george is a director, but he sent in his resignation soon after he went to chebasset, and didn't attend their meetings for weeks." "well?" asked judith. "well, the directors couldn't make up their minds, and at last they refused to accept george's resignation, and sent for him. he looked into the matter, and then he----" beth paused to laugh. "go on," begged judith. "he scolded them for not jumping at the chance. mr. fenno said he hadn't been so lectured since he was a boy; he was much pleased by it. so the wampum mills went into the combination three days ago, all of the little mills followed at once, and they expect to do almost double business now. isn't it fine of george?" "fine!" agreed judith, but her gentler mood was destroyed. ellis also had had part in the combination, the greater part. if one were to compare the achievements and to choose between the men, if one were to do rather than to dream----! she threw off her thoughts of mather as one throws off a cloak and looks upon it lying shapeless. life and action suddenly called her again; she, too, had influenced this matter. she remembered ellis's acknowledgment of indebtedness, the suggestion of partnership, and the compliment pleased her. mather passed completely from her mind, and ellis dominated her as before. chapter xvi something new if mrs. harmon's marriage was her most brilliant success, it was also her greatest disappointment--as it was her husband's. at times when she thought of her position, she was satisfied; when she realised its restraints she rebelled. for she was robust, full-blooded, stirring, but the judge was "set in his ways." he was mental, she was physical; as a result she completely misprized him. he had brought her into a circle where she did not belong; it was as if a gardener had set among roses some hardy, showy plant, a flaunting weed. pleased as mrs. harmon was, her position irked her to maintain; respectability was often very wearisome, very flat. there was little spice and go to life; too much restraint was required. not entirely vulgar, not exactly coarse, she fretted first, then yearned for other things. barbaric is the word that fits her best; she was like the educated indian who longs for his free dress and freer ways. liberty was out of the question, since she would never give up the brilliance of her position. personal freedom she had; for the judge, when he found that she could not be the companion that he hoped, gave her all the money that he could, and let her (within bounds which she understood very well and overstepped only in secret) do as she pleased. but she had in her the craving for physical stimuli; earth was her mother. a five-mile walk daily might have kept her mind clear, yet she would have had to walk alone, and that was unbearable. loving people, she lacked companionship, for with women below her station she would not chum, while with those in it she could not. we have seen how judith failed her; there remained only the men. handsome and shrewd, mrs. harmon had gained her position without yielding to their snares; but now that the dangers which beset her single life were past, she began to look back at them inquiringly. her beauty was full-blown; soon it would begin to fade, and her nature cried out against losing youth and all its pleasures. her feelings were from instinct, not calculation; her actions were impulsive. when she first met ellis, quite unconsciously her thoughts had dwelt on him. he was unresponsive; the two dropped into a habit of semi-intimacy, but having thus begun to let her fancy roam, mrs. harmon yearned for an adonis until her dreams centered with some constancy upon a vision which answered to the name of jim. circumstances are everything; there is nothing human which does not depend upon them absolutely, and mrs. harmon might have "sighed and pined and ogled" forever, had not wayne been thrown in her path at a time when his mind was ready to welcome diversion. it happened that he had planned to go to the theater with beth. they wanted to go alone, therefore they must go in the afternoon. he chose a wednesday, though only saturday afternoons belonged to him. the play was advertised in a manner to excite jim's interest, and he assured beth it would be "bully." coming up from chebasset at eleven o'clock, he dressed himself in his best and lunched at the blanchard's. then as the hour approached he started with beth for the temple of amusement. she pressed his arm as they stood for a minute in the vestibule. "naughty boy!" she said, beaming on him. "naughty to spend so much money on me!" "we mustn't dry up, beth," he answered. "life's too serious to have no fun in it." "but to take an afternoon from work!" she said, so prettily that only conscience would have blinded him to the intended thanks. jim's sense of guilt, however, made him start. "confound it, beth," he cried, stopping short and looking at her, "don't you trust me to take an afternoon off without stealing it?" "oh, oh!" she exclaimed. "jim, i didn't mean that!" she tried to soothe his irritation away, but it was a bad beginning to their pleasure, and they could not talk freely on the way to the theater. when they entered the lobby she felt that he was still touchy, therefore she said nothing of the flaming posters which she saw now for the first time. women in tights, drunken men--but jim had said the play would be fine; these were only to catch the passer's eye. jim unbent again when they were once seated: the curtain, the bustle, the anticipation pleased him. "it's going to be great!" he said. "it's fun to be together, isn't it, beth?" he was as loving as before, and her little heart was happy. but when the curtain went up, and the play commenced, poor beth began to sicken. women with tights appeared, and said unpleasant things; the drunken man came on, and reeled about horribly. besides these attractions there were two people who gave a travesty of lovers, at which jim nudged her; there was a woman who drank beer, and a waiter who spilled it down her neck. at this last whimsical situation the theater rocked with laughter, so that beth became aware that there were people who liked that sort of thing; next she saw that jim at her side was weak with merriment at the exquisite foolery. the curtain went down to a song which the audience regarded as deliciously droll, but at which beth rose from her seat, her cheeks flaming. "what is it?" asked jim, astonished. "i must go home," she answered. "come." while the curtain was going up again that the singer might be complimented, beth and jim made their way out of the theater. he cast glances behind at the prima donna; beth looked neither right nor left. but when they were free of the place, he came to her side with anxiety in his face. "are you ill?" he asked. "no," she said. "then what is it?" "that play, jim." "what?" he cried, thunderstruck. "it was dreadful," she said, "i couldn't bear it." he could say nothing at first, but at length he tried to speak. "then the money i've spent--and my time?" "don't, jim!" she pleaded. "not here in the street." "very well," he answered stiffly, and was silent until he reached her house. but when she started up the steps he stood still and raised his hat. "jim!" she exclaimed, halting. "aren't you coming in?" he backed away and would not look at her. "later," he said. "jim!" she cried appealingly. he turned and went away without another word, doing what he knew he should repent, for she was very sweet, very piteous. she would have run after him to draw him back but--some one was coming. she went into the house and sat in tears, waiting for him to return, but he did not come. now the person who was coming was mrs. harmon, and she saw it all. she perceived the scowl on jim's face; she almost heard beth's pleading. on impulse she turned back as if she had forgotten something, and allowed jim to overtake her. "why, mr. wayne!" she said, and jim could not pass without speaking. "good-afternoon," he said. "a very beautiful afternoon," she responded, so that however reluctant, he had to delay. and now is seen the beginning of the afternoon's development, for when she next spoke she had no thought beyond what was expressed by her words. "an afternoon for a walk, mr. wayne." she had the very faintest hope that he might offer to walk with her. "an afternoon for the theater," answered jim bitterly, as he remembered the delights he had lost. mrs. harmon's disappointment was far greater than her expectations. "are you going?" she asked him. "what, you have been, mr. wayne? but how are you out so early?" "some people," answered jim, "don't care for the theater." mrs. harmon, recalling what she had just seen, did some swift guessing. "my husband, for instance," she said lightly. "and miss blanchard," added jim gloomily. she thought she guessed why jim would not walk with her. "you are going back to see the rest of the performance alone?" but the idea came to him as new. he took from his pocket two slips of blue cardboard and regarded them resentfully. "i could go back," he said. "the man gave me these at the door. i've half a mind to." _two_ slips of cardboard! a thought came to her, of such weight that she needed time to consider it; therefore she changed the subject. "how do you like your new business?" she asked. "it must be very interesting." thus she opened new fields of discontent. "interesting enough," answered jim. "but a fellow that has had freedom finds it very confining." "i can imagine it," she murmured. "and it is a different line of work." "quite different," agreed jim. "compared with brokering, it's dull, mrs. harmon. i miss the excitement; it's awful humdrum at the mill. there's such lots of stupid detail." "then chebasset is so far from the city," she supplemented. "it is difficult to get any time here," he said, "unless you take an early train, you know." recollection came to him again, and he added: "and when a fellow makes a special effort to give another person pleasure, and she--well, never mind!" jim sighed heavily. mrs. harmon made a sympathetic pause. motives were balanced in jim's brain just then, resentment and desire for pleasure driving him away from beth, affection and remorse drawing him back. had mrs. harmon been the deepest of schemers, she could not have thrown her weight more cleverly against beth's. seeing that they were approaching a corner, which might separate her from jim, she thought only to continue the conversation; but behold, she augmented the current of his discontent. "how do you enjoy working under mr. mather?" she asked. the gloom deepened on jim's face. "mather's kind of--oh, well, he expects every one to see things the way he does." "i can imagine he's strict," she said. "he's arbitrary!" answered jim emphatically. "it's too bad!" she responded with sympathy. but they were at the corner, and she stopped. one way led down town, one to quieter neighbourhoods--and this in morals as well as in geography. she meant not to separate from jim, and yet how to keep him, or go with him? mere instinct guided her again, and this time she gave herself to it and followed without further thought. "well?" she asked, as they stood still. "well?" echoed jim, quite blank, yet seeing she expected him to say something. "shall i go one way, or the other?" she demanded. "one way, or the other?" he repeated stupidly. "i meant to make calls," she said, accenting the preterit, "but if you should ask me" (accenting the auxiliary) "to go with you to see the rest of that play----" she made no finish, but cocked her head and looked past him, sidewise. "gad!" cried jim, staring. "ah, well!" she sighed, turning away. "come on!" he exclaimed. "come along, mrs. harmon. jove, it will be great fun!" "why, i didn't really mean it," she replied, but smiling gaily. she was everything that beth was not: pronounced, vivacious, multi-coloured. she was handsome, red-cheeked, bright of eye, and if she was a little hard of glance, jim did not perceive it. she pleased him; he urged her again. "well, i can do some shopping," she said with a teasing accent of reflection, and went down town by his side. the theater was not far; when they reached it, she made as if to pass on. "good-bye," she said. "oh, mrs. harmon!" cried he. "you really mean you want me to come in?" she asked. "of course!" insisted jim, and lied manfully. "i wanted it all the time." "i haven't seen this play," she said, reflecting. "my husband never takes me to the theater." "then let me," he urged. a strain of music was wafted out as she hesitated. "see, we're losing some." "how funny," she said, looking at him and smiling, "to go in this way. but it's a lark, isn't it, mr. wayne. come on, then!" she stepped before him to the door, and in a moment they were in the theater together. there were again the dusk, the rustle, and the music. some voice beyond the footlights called "_zwei bier!_" and a laugh followed from the audience. a noiseless usher led the two to their seats, which they took while watching the woman on the stage doubtfully circling away from the waiter who had spilt beer on her before. the second act was not yet finished; there were ten minutes more before the curtain went down, which it did just as the actress turned a somersault, quite modestly. the third act was even more capriciously humorous than the other two. mrs. harmon and jim enjoyed themselves keenly, the thrill of the unusual companionship adding excitement to the pleasure. at last she was with him; for the first time he was with some one else than beth. he still had enough resentment against beth to feel that he was serving her right; he compared her with mrs. harmon; he wished beth were more--well, sensible. mrs. harmon displayed an abundance of sense; she saw the good points; jokes that beth would have missed entirely were not lost on mrs. harmon. when they walked to her house together she spoke most appreciatively of the extravaganza. if beth could but be thus! but most of all jim felt that he pleased a woman. mrs. harmon leaned to him at times, put her face near his; he felt her breath; once in the theater her hair touched him. she was sympathetic and confidential; they reached the "you-and-i" stage very quickly. thus: "if the judge were only a little more like you, mr. wayne!" this at beginning; then, "i had thought you so stately, mr. wayne, but we seem to have just the same tastes." those tastes were discussed next, putting all the rest of the world on a lower plane, so that "how amusing others are" was a natural conclusion, and jim realised that he and she were looking upon life as on a spectacle. in this there was flattery beyond his power to resist; there was, besides, a suggestion too subtle for him to perceive at first. she made it plain that because her husband and she were not congenial, she went with jim; but for a time the corollary escaped him--that because he had gone with her, therefore he and beth were not at one. he saw only that he was taking a vacant place, and that she was grateful to him. at her door mrs. harmon looked at him, smiling doubtfully. "i would ask you in, only----" jim had grown bold. "well, why?" "no, no! it would never do--not after what we have already done. and you will of course not say anything about this, mr. wayne?" she added seriously. thus the final idea came to him that they two had been near, very near, the border-line of convention. "not really?" he asked. "of course miss blanchard, if you wish," she answered. "shall i even tell her?" he said, trying to look knowing. "you bad man!" she murmured, bending to him. "but it has been great fun!" then she ran up the steps. as jim walked away he suppressed his gratification, and endeavoured to estimate her character. she was quite different from what people thought her. that evening he dined with his mother; afterwards he went to the club. but the sense of guilt grew on him, and drove him at last to the blanchards'. there beth was still watching for him, so unhappy! she sobbed in his arms, begging his pardon--yes, the poor little thing begged his pardon, and jim forgave her. he did not tell her of mrs. harmon, nor did he stay late, for he had to travel to chebasset. it was not of beth that he thought most in the train. beth had only called him a naughty boy; mrs. harmon said he was a bad man. he felt as if he had been pleasantly wicked, like the fellows in new york or paris, going about with married women. chapter xvii which deals with several of our personages it is assumed in many fairy tales that the story ends with the engagement, the beginning of which marks the end of trouble. but love, though a solvent of selfishness, works slowly, and the added friction of constant companionship is needed to make its results perfect. temperament and taste, therefore, during an engagement retain most of their power. thus it is not surprising that two months were not sufficient to harden beth blanchard to the roughness of her lover's embraces; she even found further faults in him. of these shadows on his happiness jim became early aware, and obeying a passion which had not yet lost all its purity or force, he had endeavoured to modify himself to suit the conditions which beth very gently imposed. he became less anthropophagous, moderating the violence of his kisses; he came very near to estimating the value of her modesty, which formed the essence of her sweetness. but he was already so much of a man that he felt his superiority, and still so much of a boy that he fretted at restraint. to expect him to stay always contented at beth's side was like asking him to admire mozart when he had rag-time in his blood. her dainty harmonies were foreign to him. one saturday evening he was at the blanchards' when mather came to call. beth proposed to go into the front parlour and speak to him. jim objected. "he comes for your sister; and besides, i see enough of him during the week." but above her friendship for mather, beth possessed that spirit of hospitality--old-fashioned, to be sure--which impelled her to greet each visitor that came to the house. further, she felt that to keep out of sight of all who came, while yet she was within hearing, was not in the best of taste. "but i haven't seen him for a long time," she said. "and--i think we'd better go, jim, if only for a little while." "cut it short, then," he grumbled, and followed her through the curtains. "much of a suitor he is!" thought jim, as he noticed how gladly mather rose from judith's side and greeted beth. perhaps judith thought the same. there was a wholesome freshness about beth which often brought men's eyes to her and kept them there. jim was usually proud of it; now it irritated him. moreover, he was left to talk with judith, and that he had found to be difficult. therefore, when he had had more than enough of her monosyllables, and felt that he had made a fool of himself in his efforts to entertain her, he tried to break into the talk of the other two. beth had been speaking of chebasset. "a hole!" said jim, rising and standing by her chair. "an awful hole!" mather laughed; beth gave jim a distressed little smile. "you did well to get away and leave the work to me," continued jim, addressing his superior. he tried, successfully, for the effect of the true word spoken in jest. "winter coming on, too." mather laughed again. "jim," he said, "i went through all that when i was your age, and worked at the machines besides." "you see, jim," said beth, "how much further ahead you are than george." "nothing wonderful," he answered, for her remark went wrong. so did his own; mather exchanged a glance with judith, and beth shrank. jim put his arm around her neck. "well, well," he went on, "let's not talk business." beth removed the arm, gently, as she rose. "yes, we'll forget all that till monday," she said, and moved toward the door again. "we just came in to say good-evening, george." she and jim went away, to begin a struggle of temperaments. "why did you stay so long there?" he asked at once. "but jim," she explained, "a little more makes no real difference, and is so much more polite." "it makes a difference to me," he retorted, "when i have to talk with your sister. darn it, you know she and i never get on." she winced at his expletive, which seemed to hint of something stronger, and so was just as bad. "don't," she pleaded. "i--i'm sorry about judith, jim." "i might be allowed to say darn sometimes," he complained. "most men say something worse." "it's just--manners, jim," she answered. "and don't you think the way you spoke to george, when so much depends upon him----" "look here, beth," he interrupted, "am i not a fair judge of my own behaviour?" "i didn't say that, dear!" she cried. "he needn't give himself such airs, anyway," jim went on. "pease is my boss, not mather." "oh, i think you mistake," she said. "pease gave me the place," jim persisted, "because--you know." the reference hurt poor beth, to whom the thought of pease was distress. "don't speak of it, dear," she begged. "it's so," asserted jim. "but you'd think mather was my father, from the advice he gave me. great fun it was, for you to give him another chance at me!" there was nothing for her except submission. "i'm sorry," she said. but beth was not meek; she let him see, by tone and manner, that she yielded only because she was overborne. therefore he gave another thrust to make his conquest sure. "i'm sorry you don't like my arm about your neck," he said. "please excuse me for putting it there." she went close to him. "only when other people are about," she explained, and put up her face. "you may--kiss me now, jim, if you want to." beth would have been glad even of one of his engulfing embraces, as a sign of reconciliation; but he kissed her gingerly and then sat down, not on the sofa, but on a chair. next he was surly for a while; then he rose to go. "i'm tired," he said. "it's been a hard week." after that lie her sympathy was a reproach. "i'm so sorry," she whispered, caressing him. "if i was cross, forgive me, dear. you do work hard for me." no accusation could have cut deeper; he could scarcely look her in the eyes as he said good-night at the door. poor beth laid her forehead against the dull wood, and listened to his footsteps until they were gone. it worried her that jim was tired, and that she, not understanding, had been hard on him. she wished her perceptions had been quicker; she resolved to study how to please him. poor, simple beth! jim, grumbling at his crosses, went homeward, but not home. for the harmon house was by his way; he saw lights in the lower windows, and he loitered. next, he went and rang the bell. he was shown into the parlour, into a new atmosphere, for mrs. harmon rose with evident gladness from her book, and her very greeting changed his mood. the judge was in his study; should she call him? jim took his cue from the flash of her eye. "no, no!" he cried, and they laughed together. and as he sat and looked at her--what a difference! there was fullness of good looks in the face, far more pronounced than beth's; the shoulder was plump, the arm firm and pink. beth never showed such attractions as these, having the feeling that modesty became a girl. but though mrs. harmon was no longer young, "gad!" thought jim, "if girls only knew as much as women!" mrs. harmon brought cigarettes; she joked him as a man would. jolly, this was! jim took a cigarette from the case she offered. "you're sure you don't mind the smoke?" he asked. "i? mind the smoke?" she returned. "i like it so much that--what do you think of my box?" she closed the cigarette-case and showed him its cover, standing by his side as he sat. "swell!" said jim. "those cupids with masks are simply slap! whose initials, mrs. harmon? yours?" he laughed. "why not mine?" she asked. "l. h.," read jim. "l. is the judge's initial, i know." "my name is lydia," she said. "and my husband's name is abiel, mr. wayne." jim rose hastily. "then this is really your case, mrs. harmon. and do you--will you--smoke with me?" "of course i will!" she cried. jim felt himself very much indeed like those fellows in new york or paris. she smoked gracefully; the movements displayed her hand and the long, bare, beautiful arm. the shoulder rounded as she raised the cigarette to her lips; even shoulder-straps would have marred that display. but while he admired, with a sudden movement she cast the cigarette into the fireplace: some one was at the front door. it was ellis. "oh, it's only you, stephen," she said, when his short form appeared in the doorway. "i needn't have spoiled my smoke, after all." "you needn't have stopped anything for me," said ellis, and added: "just dropped in to inquire for the judge." jim perceived, from mrs. harmon's laughter, that this was a byword with her intimates; he offered her the box of cigarettes, and when she chose one, struck a match. "no, no!" she cried, "your cigarette." she took it from him, her fingers brushing his; she lighted her own and then offered his again. but when he was about to take it: "no, your mouth!" she ordered, and obediently he opened his mouth to receive it. then she began to laugh at him, richly and infectiously, so that he laughed with her, but did not miss the spectacle she presented. standing with her back against the center table, she leaned with her hands upon it; her shoulders became more attractive than ever, and between them rose the swelling throat. he laughed with delight, and letting his eye wander over those charms, he missed the glances, amused and defiant, which passed between mrs. harmon and ellis. "so you're up to this, lydia?" he seemed to inquire, but she to respond: "do not you interfere, sir!" there is no analysing those processes by which we find our affinities, no theory of chance which will satisfactorily account for the meetings of like states of mind. but here were jim, once peevish, and mrs. harmon, once bored, quite satisfied at last in each other's company, and before long making this so evident that ellis perceived that he had interrupted. they left him out; jim spoke to him from time to time, or mrs. harmon turned on him that same warning glance. but if they chose to act so, ellis did not care; in fact, an idea came to him, and he smiled as he watched jim, like an astronomical body, moving along the line of least resistance. for ellis had just parted from colonel blanchard, who had called on him. ellis had received the colonel in the one room of his mansion which revealed daily occupancy, which no housekeeper might invade with duster or broom. from among many papers in many cases, ellis drew blanchard's promissory note, and silently laid it before him. "you come to redeem this?" he asked. "more than prompt, colonel blanchard." the colonel did not offer to explain with exactness. like that person in the fairy tale who sought to recover the lost cheeses by rolling others after them, blanchard had been throwing his dollars into the bottomless pit of the stock-market and expecting them to return many-fold. but he had broken the ice once with ellis; it was easier now. he had, he said, been--unfortunate. but if mr. ellis would only advance a little more, he had not the slightest doubt of repaying in full, and very soon. ellis knew the signs of the gambler; absolute certainty of making good his losses, equal vagueness as to sources of supply. he made out another check; the colonel signed another note. they parted, but now, here at the harmons', wayne seemed to recall the colonel by his shallow, gentlemanly ways. months ago judith had told ellis that his way lay through the men. there were only three who in any degree, through any feeling, might influence her in his favour. one was mather: out of the question. one was the colonel: he was secure. the third was wayne, of whom, for her sister's sake, judith wished to make more of a man. during his stay ellis was mostly silent, studying this new problem. chapter xviii judith buys a typewriter as the winter advanced, judith found herself never free from her struggle, the interest of which grew not only greater, but at times intense. for gossip, as she foresaw, was busy with her name; and though as yet she had not braved her circle in the endeavour to bring ellis in, her friends took occasion to disapprove of her acquaintance with him. the disapproval being conveyed to her in a dozen ways, judith was frequently in a blaze of anger at people's officiousness, or as often contemptuous of their curiosity. since interference was always enough to make her obstinate, her friends had no other effect on her than to make her welcome ellis more kindly than ever. an unforeseen factor in her troubles was the state of public affairs. judith read the papers diligently; she perceived a general increase of opposition to ellis. this did not disturb her, since your true student is aware that the public is as often wrong as right. and at first she took no interest in the search for a leader which was conducted by that usually impotent party, the reformers. these gentlemen had so often, in judith's hearing, been gently ridiculed as milk-and-water politicians, that even amusement ceased within her as she read anew of their efforts. any campaign which they should conduct would be the usual formal and ineffectual protest against "practical politics"; their candidate would be, as always, an obscure person with no claim on public regard. judith's interest woke very suddenly when it was whispered that the reform candidate was to be george mather. now she should see mather and ellis directly measured, and could know the strength of each. and yet all this was still far away, while another matter was of nearer interest: the rumour of a street-railway strike. wages had been lowered and the men were discontented; so also were the patrons of the road. the efficiency of the service had greatly fallen off, and the reform newspaper boldly dated the change at mather's loss of the presidency, charging ellis with the desire to make money at the public's expense. judith sniffed at an accusation which she believed would refute itself; she wondered that men should still trust in campaign calumnies. one statement alone caused her serious thought, namely the claim, soberly made, that in managing the details of a great enterprise rather than attending to its finance ellis was beyond his depth. but at the call to the public to insist upon proper treatment as well as to avert the calamity of a great strike judith smiled to herself. the public never interested itself in anything; and besides, this was none of the public's business. yet, though judith was right in thinking that the management of the street-railway company concerned the stockholders alone, and though her estimate of the general harmlessness of the reform party was quite correct, her interest in mather was renewed. judith was always very well aware of her states of mind, and had noted by this time that whenever her interest in ellis's brilliancy relaxed, she was certain to find mather doggedly adding to his own achievements. and she granted it to be much in his favour that though he lacked the fascinating abilities of his keener rival, he had a formidable solidity. the very fact that his name was used in connection with the reform nomination, gave that nomination seriousness. still, the caucus was months ahead, and it was hard to believe that ellis, who had never yet failed, could botch the management of the street-railway. men should be easier to manage than securities. and though she received mather kindly whenever he came, it was impossible not to feel more interest in the man who came oftener, stayed longer, and spoke most of himself. mather had spoken of himself but once; he did not seek, as ellis did, to be alone with her, and no longer showed the repressed eagerness of a suitor. he was easy, deliberate, never preoccupied, and took no pains whatever to forward himself with her. on that evening when beth had dragged unwilling jim into the front parlour, to her consequent unhappiness, mather showed no impatience at the interruption; he even rose again gladly when, jim having gone, poor beth came creeping back again. "george," said beth timidly, "jim was a little--rude, just now." "no, no," he answered heartily. "don't think of it, beth." "if you will bear with him," she pursued, "i think he will come to see how much he owes you." "of course he will," he agreed. "not that i'm anxious for any acknowledgment. i understand he's lonely, beth." "he is," she stated eagerly. "he misses----" she blushed, and added hurriedly, "and much of what he says is just manner." "don't you suppose i know him?" he asked. "now don't worry, beth. just keep him to his work, and he'll come out all right." he took her hand; she looked up shyly. "do you think me foolish, george?" "fond used to mean foolish," he answered. "we'll call you fond. jim must succeed with you to back him!" and he kissed her hand. "thank you," said beth, doubtless referring to the encouragement. "thank you so much, george! good-night." "poor little thing!" said mather, as he seated himself after she had gone. "she's not happy, judith." "it's jim," she answered. "have you any influence over him?" he asked. "if you have, make him work." "i noticed," she remarked, "that you did not tell beth that she has no cause for worry. is he not satisfactory?" "it may be inexperience," he answered, "it may be just jim; i haven't decided yet. the work isn't hard, for the foreman looks after everything mechanical, yet our product is much less than it should be. all i need to do is to go and sit in the chebasset office for an hour, without opening the door into the mill, and if the men know i'm there we turn out six hundred pounds more that day." the statement was not surprising, as judith compared jim with the man before her. "you think he will not suit." "i don't say that yet," he replied. "but it's very unpleasant, doing business with your friends." again she sat watching him as he stared into the fire, but not with the emotion of that former time, for the state of mind which beth had aroused was passing. she thought of mather, with unimpassioned interest, as a fine type of man; but it was undeniable that, emotion being absent, ellis took an increasingly greater share of her thoughts, and stirred her imagination more. the world was growing larger before her, not the world of society but of the _world's work_, the _harper's weekly_, almost of the _scientific american_, those magazines which express the spirit of modern enterprise and hardheadedness, and from which she drew her current information. one of them had recently published ellis's portrait; judith glanced from mather to the table whereon the magazine was at this moment lying, and compared the two men as, but a few moments before, she had contrasted jim and mather. now it was mather who stood at the little end of the sign of inequality; ellis was the giant and mather the mere man. rumour set them against each other, but though judith had heard the whisper, "mather is back," she had also seen the smiles as people added: "now what will he do?" "yes," said mather, rousing; "between us we can help jim along." then he rose, and though it was early, said good-night. he left her wondering at his method of cheerful entrance and speedy exit, his manner of being at home in her presence. but after more thinking, she laid this to the fact that he had nothing on his mind. yet he was conscious of a future which beckoned him, and of ambitions, not of his own creating, which stood ready for him to assume. he knew that it was said that mather had returned, knew that the idle were smiling, the serious were watching to see what he would do. not only pease, fenno, watson, branderson, those four powers, held an expectant attitude toward him, but the reform politicians did the same. he knew the public feeling toward abuses might easily be roused, vexed and alarmed as people were with the street railroad. a determined man, in whom the city had confidence, could easily draw many votes to himself. but "wait," he said to himself, "it's not yet time." he had been approached only by pease, who inquired: "have you any street-railway stock?" but when mather replied he had, pease merely begged him not to sell, and said no more. yet there had been that in pease's manner which meant much. mather and judith were far apart in these days; he sighed as he thought of the distance between them, and turned more willingly to the distractions which politics and business offered. he would have been glad to have his opportunities closer at hand, that he might throw himself into the work. judith, on the other hand, shrank when first her future came suddenly near. her father came home late one afternoon; going to greet him, she had found him in the library, unwrapping a parcel. the colonel, obeying his impulse toward extravagance, had picked up down town a--wait till she saw it! "it's very much tied up," said judith. "it's rather a valuable thing," answered her father, struggling with the string. "if only i had it out here, i'd cut this twine." "is it a pair of scissors?" she asked. "slip the string over the end, sir." the colonel displayed it at last, a japanese dagger. its hilt and sheath were massive ivory, yellow with age, carved deeply with grotesques of men in combat. a grinning mask formed the pommel, a writhing dragon the guard; the warriors were grappling, hand to hand. the colonel offered the knife to judith. "look at it," he said with pride. something made judith draw back. "i--it's been used." the colonel was irritated. "upon my word, judith, i should think you were beth. of course it's been used; you can see that on the blade. look!" he drew it from the sheath. the blade was of the usual stout japanese model, with a quick edge which much whetting had made very fine. an injury had marred the symmetry of the weapon: it was evident that an eighth of an inch had been broken from the point, which, ground again as sharp as ever, had lost in beauty but gained in suggestiveness. the colonel touched the point. "on armour or on bone, do you suppose?" he asked. judith had recovered herself. "you're rather grewsome, sir." "hang it," he complained, sheathing the knife again. "i thought you'd like it. but jim will, anyway." he laid the knife on the table. "you're not going to keep it there?" she asked. "indeed i am," he answered. "don't look at it if you don't want to." he started to go, then paused. "judith, i have asked mr. ellis to dinner." she was surprised by the statement, so suddenly made and of such deep meaning. all she could do was to repeat his words. "you have asked mr. ellis to dinner?" "gad!" exclaimed the poor colonel. "is anything wrong with you this afternoon? you are hard to please." "oh, if you asked him to please me----" she was beginning. "well," he explained, "what else could i do when he more than half suggested it? i couldn't be rude to him. i--he--we are pretty good friends." but he only puzzled her the more. "you are pretty good friends?" asked judith, again repeating his words. this conduct on her part made the colonel spring to the door, where for an instant he stood and beat his temples. "a woman's a devil!" he exclaimed after that interval, and stamped upstairs. when a man's behaviour takes this turn, or his philosophy leads him to this conclusion, it is safe for the woman to assume that he has something on his conscience. judith stood startled. on what terms was ellis with her father that he could force an invitation to dinner? and his object? she watched ellis during that first meal at her table. judith had never before seen him in evening dress, nor as yet considered him so personally. his manners were good, his behaviour quiet; no one could have said that he was not a fair representation of a gentleman. that he was more he did not claim. "this is the first time," he said, as he went in with her to the dining-room, "that i have dined in these togs in any house besides my own, public dinners excepted, of course. it feels stranger than i expected." "why should it feel strange?" she asked. "because i was not born or bred to it, i suppose." "certainly," she remarked, "you show nothing of what you feel." "when i was a boy," he answered, "when i lost by being too eager on my first trade, i learned never again to show what i felt--unless it's my purpose to. to be quiet and steady, looking and not speaking--you can't imagine what that has done for me." this frankness of his, which she felt was vouchsafed to her alone, was one secret of his success with judith. she was interested to hear him acknowledge himself a learner; she sympathised with his effort to make himself fit to sit at any table; and she was impressed by his study of manners as earlier he had studied men and markets. she recognised the full power of his determination and his self-control. but also she felt that unmistakably she knew his object. and her father, in manner almost deferential to ellis, consciously or not was his ally. ellis made no approach to the subject which was most on his mind, though through the evening he sat alone with her in the parlour. he spoke, as he always did, of his affairs. moreover, he went away early. but judith, when he had gone, gazed at the door which had closed behind him. he was aiming at her! all that determination, all that formidable self-control, were trained upon one object: herself. then she must look forward, and decide. did she wish to marry ellis? she found no reply as she tried to read herself; instead, her mind was confused by a lesser question: why should her father be so friendly to him? it would not be fair to judith to say that she enjoyed the sensation created by her intimacy with ellis; nevertheless she found piquancy in the little thrills of horror which she caused in her circle. for she knew herself to be honestly interested by ellis's napoleonic force, and could retaliate upon her clique by amusement at its littleness. she looked at ellis with clear eyes, perceiving little flaws which his great powers could condone. yet at the same time she understood her friends' sincerity in their reprobation of him, and forgave them because they knew no better. she was perfectly aware that her father had no greater caliber than that general to his class; without the slightest filial disrespect, she knew that the colonel was not capable of her interest in ellis as a type and as a force. she would not have resented opposition from her father half so much as she had been puzzled at his acquiescence in ellis's visits; nor would she have been surprised by a sudden paternal outburst so much as by to-night's encouragement. and understanding him so well, she began to suspect that his motives were different from her own, were lower, and that his interest might be personal. such a suspicion of her father was quite enough to make her suspect herself. three impulses rose within her, and battled together. the first was the old ambition, drawing her to ellis; the second was refinement, thrusting her away from him. the third was maidenhood, which in beth was modest but in judith militant, impelling her to the decision to marry nobody at all. and just now this was strongest. nevertheless, judith recognised the need of a weapon or at least a shield against the assaults which were bound to come. she was not so sure of herself that she dared depend on her own powers alone. therefore she needed a barrier behind which to retire at need, and she saw but one. friends could not shield her: she had too few; and pride stood between herself and mather. her father would evidently be no protection. even with beth her understanding was too slight to be put to use. employment alone would help her, and of all employments only one attracted her. yet for that she could be preparing herself. with bent head she went into the sitting-room where were her father and beth; they put down their books as she entered, and from the table the colonel took up the japanese knife. "beth doesn't like this much more than you do," he said. "it's sinister," explained beth. "all its beauty conceals a threat; its only purpose is to bring death." "in the past, in the past!" protested her father. "it's only an ornament now." "perfectly horrid!" this from beth, but judith said: "it must have cost a good deal." "oh, well----" the colonel responded, waving away the subject. "father," said judith abruptly, "i want a hundred dollars." "a hundred dollars!" he cried. "where is a hundred dollars to come from in a jiffy?" "beth and i dislike the knife so," she suggested. "you might get the dealer to take it back." experienced women know how unwilling men are to return boughten articles. "i didn't get it on trial, like a wash-wringer," retorted the colonel. "what do you want your hundred dollars for?" "a typewriter." "a typewriter!" he exclaimed, and beth echoed the word. judith made no explanation. "why, that's quite out of the usual line of expenditure," objected the colonel. "it's an extravagance." "a japanese dagger might be called an extravagance," judith returned. "then," answered her father, "so might those furs you bought the other day. i told you your old set was good enough." "if i return the furs," she asked, "will you return the dagger?" "no, by jove!" he cried. "it's for me to decide what i will do with my own. i'm the provider." "and you provide very well," she returned sweetly. he looked at her with suspicion which sprang from remembrance of his methods as provider, but since she seemed to have no hidden meaning he returned to his reading. judith, still sweetly, bade them good-night. but the next day she started from the house dressed in all the glory of her latest possessions. "judith," asked beth, "you aren't going to wear those furs in the morning?" "say good-by to them," answered her sister. "judith!" gasped beth. but judith only smiled serenely and left the house. by the assurance in bargaining which always carries its point, and which is distinctly feminine, she got for her furs exactly what she gave for them. that afternoon a typewriter was delivered at the house. it was mather who had helped her to buy it, mather who, happening into the store while she was there, had told her that the increase of his business was forcing him to employ more stenographers. so he, even by the most material of standards, was coming on. in order to forget him, she was forced to think of ellis, and to repeat such aphorisms as anyone can be a gentleman, it takes genius to be a man. but after she had thought of ellis for a little while, again came the revulsion. judith, when in her chamber she first removed the cover of her typewriter, stood for a long while gazing at its black enamel and its nickeled keys. the machine became a symbol, a warning of fate, and though in the coming days she practised its use almost eagerly, the typewriter never lost its significance. it was but a feeble defense against the victor of the two rivals. victor? the word was bitter. it came always with the force of a blow, staggering her amazonian spirit: must she yield in the end? bitter, indeed, that while she rebelled against her womanhood she was forced to recognise and dread it. temporise or struggle as she might, she felt that there lay before her an inevitable choice. chapter xix "put money in thy purse" while judith blanchard, as if defying fate, held her head higher than before, there grew on one of our characters, namely jim wayne, the habit of looking at the ground. jim was one of those who, having a weak little conscience, cannot be wicked with an air. and yet mrs. harmon, if she saw any change in him, thought it was for the better. into her eyes, at least, he looked freely; his glance was more ardent, and only when she spoke of beth did he glower and look away. in their conversations, therefore, beth was no longer mentioned. nor did he ever speak to beth of his intimacy with mrs. harmon. thus beth was surprised one day when, meeting mrs. wayne, the elder lady asked: "wasn't it pleasant to see jim last night?" "jim?" asked beth. "was he in town?" "he came to the house for just one minute. i supposed he was hurrying to see you. ah, beth, we mothers!" and mrs. wayne sighed. "but he didn't come to see me," said beth. "it must have been business that brought him. i'll ask george." mather said he had seen jim, but only by accident, when, returning from the theater, wayne had passed him, apparently hurrying for the late train. "in town all the evening and didn't come to see me?" thought beth. the idea troubled her so much that mather perceived it. yet no outsider understood the situation quite so clearly as ellis, who had been before jim at the harmons' that evening, and left soon after he came. "i'm going to the blanchards'," he said. "shall i tell them to expect you, mr. wayne?" jim was so unskilled in finesse that he said he was going to take the early train. ellis smiled. "you shan't tease him!" declared mrs. harmon, putting her hand on jim's sleeve. at which childishness the smile on ellis's face became broad, and he went away. returning after a couple of hours, he was in time to see jim leave the house hastily, on his way to the station. a woman's silhouette showed on the glass of the vestibule door, and ellis tried a trick. he ran quickly up the steps and knocked on the door. it was opened immediately. "back again?" asked mrs. harmon eagerly. "oh, it's only you, stephen!" "only me," and he turned to go, but she seized him. "why did you do that?" she demanded, and then not waiting for an answer asked: "you didn't tell the blanchards he was here?" "not i," he replied. "lydia, why do you hold me so?" "why did you startle me so?" she retorted. "but go along with you!" so he went, having by his manoeuver found out enough. it was not wholly interest in his house, therefore, which took ellis to chebasset before many days. he went to the office of the mill, and as he stood before the chimney and looked up at it he mused that, metaphorically speaking, it would not take much prying at its foundations to make it fall: wayne was a weak prop to such a structure. he opened the office door. jim, from bending over miss jenks as she sat at her desk, rose up and stared at him. and the little pale stenographer grew pink. "people usually knock," jim was beginning. "--oh, mr. ellis!" "down for the afternoon," said ellis. "i hate to lunch alone at this hotel. won't you come with me?" "why, i----" hesitated jim. "going up on the hill afterward to see my house," added ellis. "i won't keep you long." "you're very good," decided jim. "yes, i'll come." "of course it's wretched stuff they give us here," remarked ellis when they were seated at the hotel. "will you take water, or risk the wine?" "the wine's not so bad," said jim. he was pleased at his invitation, but even deference to one so rich could not subdue his pride in special knowledge. "i don't know how it happens, but they have some very decent medoc." "then we'll try it," and ellis ordered a bottle. he began to feel sure of his estimate of a young man who took wine when alone in the country. bad blood will show; ellis recalled his experience with jim's father. for although the promoter had once met mather's father and come off second-best, with the elder wayne he had been easily master. ellis had bought up most of wayne's outstanding notes by the time alcohol removed from society one who so well adorned it; the sale of the house had been merely a return of i. o. u.'s. in just the same way ellis was providing against blanchard's collapse, and now was watching jim as the wine worked on him. "a hole, a hole!" cried jim, and the wave of his third glass included all chebasset. "if it weren't for a little girl, mr. ellis----!" jim gulped down more wine, and ellis ordered a second bottle. "that little girl," he asked, "whom i saw at the office?" "she?" cried jim loftily. "all very well to have fun with in this place, but a fellow of my standing looks forward to something better than that. don't pretend ignorance, mr. ellis. you're learning what's worth having, even if you didn't know it when first you came to stirling." "i know very little about women," returned ellis steadily. "gad," cried jim, "you've chosen pretty well, then." "at least," was the reply, and ellis sighed as if regretfully, "i can't keep three going at once." jim laughed. "you don't regret it, i know well enough. you've got too many other things to think of. i have to do it, to make life interesting." such a cub as this, it was plain, deserved no mercy. "you won't succeed in one quarter, at least," ellis answered. "where, then?" demanded jim. ellis took his first sip of wine. "at a certain lady's where we have met." jim resorted to pantomime. he reached for the bottle and filled his glass; this he held up to the light, and squinted through it; then with deliberation he drank off the wine, and reached for the fresh bottle. after filling, he looked at ellis. all this he did with an air of very, very evident amusement, and at the end he chuckled. "for the reason," continued ellis, quite unmoved, "that you haven't the cash." he took his second sip, but jim laughed outright. then the youth became grave. "money," he said emphatically, "is all very well in its place. but though you've made your way by it, sir, you overestimate it. why, that mrs. harmon would take----" suddenly jim grew red in the face. "you insult her, sir!" "good," remarked ellis, very coldly. "the waiter is out of the room; recollect yourself when he returns. recollect also that mrs. harmon is a very old friend of mine." "but," stammered jim, somewhat abashed, "when you say that she would sell herself----" "you were drinking before you came here," said ellis, "or you wouldn't take such ideas so easily." he removed the bottle from jim's elbow, then, as if on second thought, he put it back again. "this is a lonely place, mr. wayne; i don't wonder that you take a cock-tail occasionally in the morning. but just remember that it may prevent you from seeing a man's meaning." "i thought----" began jim, but ellis cut him short. "i know; but never mind. i meant, my dear man, a libel on the sex, perhaps, but not on the individual. they're fond of finery, that's all. and you haven't the money to give it." he looked at jim with a smile. "you can't give it to her!" cried jim. but the exclamation was almost a question. "to some women you can't--perhaps. but i've never met the kind. and do you suppose the judge knows what comes into the house?" "gad!" murmured jim. "a weakness of the sex," resumed ellis. "just remember that. women are softer than we; we've got to humour them. there's no harm in it; a pearl pin now and then--something good, oh, you need something pretty good, or nothing at all." "then i'll go on the nothing-at-all system," said jim with gloom. "rot!" answered ellis. "do you save so carefully?" "save!" exclaimed jim. "do you suppose i can save?" "i forgot," and ellis spoke apologetically. "of course, with your salary. but there'll be a good time some day, mr. wayne." "when i'm old," grumbled jim. "gad!" cried ellis, "with your ability and your youth, i'd be some thousands richer every year!" "i know," answered the lamb, trying to look as wolfish as he should. "but a fellow can do nothing nowadays without capital." "but you have something?" "some few thousands," replied jim with deep scorn of fate. "and in my mother's name." "your mother is conservative?" asked ellis. "scared," answered jim. "and all you learned on the market," said ellis with sympathy, "going here to waste! too bad! get some one to back you." jim looked at him sidewise. "will you do it?" but ellis smiled. "why should i? no; stand on your own feet. get your mother's power of attorney, and surprise her some day by doubling her income. but as for that, doesn't money pass through your hands down here every week." "passes through quickly," answered wayne. "comes down saturday morning, and i pay the men at noon." "pay every week?" ellis inquired. "every fortnight is what i believe in. but of course--and yet three days, with clever placing, would be enough to make you double that money. three weeks, and you could--do anything!" "by jove!" cried jim, starting. "i'll be off," said ellis, pushing back his chair. "this lunch was better than i expected. we must meet here again, some day." "good!" answered jim. he finished his last glass, but as he rose he was as steady as if he carried nothing. "for all that," muttered ellis to himself, "your brain is softer than half an hour ago." they separated at the door of the hotel, and went their respective ways. when ellis, after inspecting his house, stood on the terrace and looked down upon chebasset, he still had jim on his mind. would the ideas work? did he still taste that wine in his mouth, or his own words? small! and ellis spat. small, but well done, as the event was to prove. and yet ellis had neither heard nor read of mephisto and the student, of iago and roderigo. chapter xx the power of suggestion it is wearing when one's wishes travel faster than events, and have to wait for time to catch up. mrs. harmon felt it so. "the days go too slow," she declared to ellis, a week after his visit to chebasset. "not at all," he answered. "i think they go about right." "you're like a cat," she said impatiently. "i watched one hunting a bird once, and it took forever to make its spring." "but it caught the bird. then wasn't the time well spent, lydia?" "i'm not so cold-blooded," she replied. "i can't be deliberate. i must have something going on." "therefore you listen for the door-bell," remarked he. "lydia, he can't come up to-night." "stephen!" she cried as if indignantly--yet she began to smile. "mather keeps fair track of him," said ellis. "i hate mr. mather!" declared the lady with energy. "what's the use?" inquired the gentleman calmly. "upon my word, stephen," exclaimed mrs. harmon, "if any one in this town ought to hate him, it's you. he's the one man who stands between you and--and everything you want." ellis smiled. "people say so?" "it's true!" she insisted. "what are your friends in politics most afraid of? that he will go in against them! who can make the best stand against your mayor? mather, of course! with him as mayor--what then, stephen?" "all talk," he answered, still smiling. "very well," she retorted. "but if ever it comes to mather at city hall, doddridge as district attorney, and my husband on the bench, some people will leave town hurriedly." "you mean me?" he asked indifferently. "of course not," she answered. "but don't laugh, stephen; there's really something in all this. and in other matters, too. the judge has sold his street-railroad stock." ellis roused at once. "he has? to whom?" "mr. pease." "well," and the promoter relaxed again. "i am glad that the judge is out of it, even if pease is deeper in." "abiel kept back five shares," said the judge's worthy wife, "and when next it comes to a stockholders' meeting, he'll be there. i can't do anything with him; you know that well enough. all i can do is to tell you what he tells me. stephen," and her voice became persuasive, "why not take notice of complaints?" "you mean transfers?" he inquired. "yes, and better service: more cars at the rush hours, and more attention to the suburbs." "higher wages to the men, too, i suppose?" he asked. "you don't want a strike?" she cried. "now stop worrying!" he commanded. "you hear the judge at the breakfast table, and never see my side. who does he say are against me--pease, fenno, branderson--all their kind?" she nodded. "yes, every one of them." "well," he said, "if i have a majority of stock--either mine or belonging to men who belong to me--all the rich swells in the state can't touch me. lydia, mather made this street railroad for me; he didn't know he was doing it, but he did it, and when i wanted it i took it. it's the best thing i've struck yet, and i'm not going to let it go. nor the profits, either. transfers and extra cars? i tell you the public's got to ride, and ride in what i allow 'em." "very well," she replied. "you usually know what you're about. but the papers----" "rot, rot, rot!" he interrupted. "you hear so much of this mather talk that you believe it. do you read the _newsman_?" "abiel won't have it in the house." "buy a copy once in a while, when you feel blue. you'll see that mather's a man of straw." "does judith blanchard think him so?" he turned upon her. "doesn't she?" "i don't know what she thinks," she confessed. "then," he advised, softening his frown, "wait and watch. i tell you it's going all right." she wondered that he felt so sure, but she subsided; then other thoughts came into her mind. "stephen," she asked, "are you doing much now--on the market, i mean?" "always doing a lot," he replied. "what's safest and surest?" "government bonds," he answered with a smile. "no, no," she said. "i mean surest to go up and do something quickly." "lydia," he responded, "if young wayne wants to know anything from me, let him ask me himself." "oh!" she cried, pouting, "how quick you are! well, i did ask for jim." there was just a little hesitation as she spoke the name. "but he gets so little chance to see you. come, tell me something; give me a tip, there's a good fellow." "i calculated once," he replied, "that if i told every one who asked, there would be just twice my capital in the market, after the things i want. no, lydia, let every man stand on his own feet; i do my hunting alone." "stephen!" she coaxed. "stephen! oh, you obstinate thing! at least tell me what you're buying." "if you want to help young wayne, don't ask that. i look long ways ahead; sometimes i buy to hold, but he can't. i'm not afraid of a drop; he is. let him work out his get-rich-quick scheme by himself, and he'll be better off than if i helped him." "at least tell me what you think of poulton?" but he was obdurate. "stephen, i'll never ask you a favour again!" "with that pin at your throat you don't need to," he replied. "lydia, i never gave you that." "i have a husband," and she affected indignation. "how can you insinuate--oh, stephen, you see too much. well, what do you think of it?" "i think," he responded with deliberation, "that i've not seen miss beth blanchard wearing any new jewelry lately. aren't you unkind?" "no!" she pouted again. "i am his mother confessor." which appeared so humorous to them both that they laughed; and then, feeling that they had been skating on rather thin ice, they left the subject. only--mrs. harmon wished she knew why ellis was so sure of judith. had she seen what mather saw she might have guessed what mather guessed. ellis lunching with the colonel down town, at an out-of-the-way place, to be sure, but lunching with him openly--that meant a good deal. it was a french restaurant to which mather went at times for the sake of its specialties, but when from the door, one day, he saw the colonel and ellis at one of the tables, he went away again; yet had been seen. "he saw us," said ellis. "and if he saw us, others will. what was the use of insisting on such a meeting-place, colonel?" the colonel was annoyed, confoundedly so. "all very well," returned ellis. "but our business is not secret, any more than the transactions which go on in the open street. come, colonel blanchard, don't you think it's time for a different line of procedure?" the colonel apprehensively asked his meaning. "i'll tell you," answered ellis. "don't think me rude, sir, if i speak freely. all i've been thinking is that if i'm a business acquaintance merely, keep me as such. but if i'm a little more, if i'm to come to your house and your table, let us meet a little more openly--at the exchange club, let us say. and if i dine at your house again, let's have," the colonel's head was bowed, and ellis therefore spoke boldly, "other people there." the colonel marked with his knife upon the cloth. three times five thousand, without security, meant that ellis had passed beyond the stage of business acquaintanceship. well, never mind; judith encouraged the man, so where was the harm? the whole thing was the most natural in the world. "why, mr. ellis," he said, looking up, "i like this little place to eat in; it reminds me of paris, you know. i hadn't thought we would seem to be dodging people." ("lies better than wayne," thought ellis.) "the exchange club, of course, if you wish it; it's more convenient, anyway." but ellis's reminder, before they parted, the colonel took hard. "and perhaps we can have a little dinner-party soon, colonel?" "yes," answered the colonel. "yes, yes." he was as near snappish as he dared to be, vindicating his military character. only the recollection of his daughter's wishes kept him from being rude, downright rude. thus the colonel to himself, as he went homeward alone. yet, instead of informing judith that she was privileged to give a dinner-party, he was much too absorbed to vouchsafe her any account of where he had been. "don't bother me," was his gentle reply when she asked if he had seen any one down town. "father!" cried judith, really hurt. "but i heard this," said her father, stopping at the door of his study, and giving his piece of news with an unction for which only the passions of the natural man can account. "they say a street-railway strike is coming surely, unless mr. ellis gives in." judith stood with her hands behind her back, regarding her parent cheerfully. "oh, well!" she said lightly. "you don't believe it?" demanded the colonel. "strikes never come as often as they are threatened," she replied. "but this time the stockholders may have something to say." "they need more votes for that," she answered. the colonel looked her over. "ellis has been telling her what to think," he concluded. for a moment he entertained the impulse to propose the dinner-party, but ellis's virtual ordering of him rankled. he went into his study. mather, on his part, took his lunch at another restaurant and then went down to chebasset. he felt somewhat depressed; life was not pleasant, not with the sight of ellis and the colonel before his mental vision, nor with the task he had to do. for the returns from the mill were entirely inadequate, and jim must be spoken to. lecturing a sulky boy promised to be unpleasant; besides, jim would report it to beth. mather would have given a good deal to put the matter off, if only for a day. but jim was not at the mill. "he has gone to stirling, miss jenks?" "yes, sir, to the city. he had a telephone message from----" miss jenks hesitated and stammered. "miss blanchard? oh, of course." and mather, amused at the modesty of the little stenographer, sat down at jim's desk, which had once been his own. "the daily reports, if you please, miss jenks." while she went for them, he stared idly at the decorations by whose means jim had sought to domesticate himself at the mill: dance cards, an invitation, and photographs of beth, jim's mother, and mrs. harmon. mather frowned at the presence of the last, in such company. armed with the daily reports, mather went into the mill, and certain of the men, at certain of the machines, heard words which were far from pleasing. the words were not many, and were delivered quietly, but backed by telling figures from the returns they were unanswerable. it was a slight relief that so many men were visited in mather's round, for company made the misery a bit lighter, but the foreman trembled for his turn. he took it in the office, alone with mather and miss jenks. that during the summer and fall so many pounds daily had been turned out, and in the winter so many less, was laid before him. the foreman could suggest only one excuse. "mr. wayne, sir. the men--some of them don't like him, and some laugh at him." "you attend to your men, waller, and mr. wayne and i will do our part. understand, i put the mill in your hands now; mr. wayne will attend strictly to the office. if you bring the men up to the old mark, ten dollars more for you in the month. if you don't----" and the manager waved his hand. waller, between fear and hope, withdrew to the safe side of the door, and mopped his brow. mather also wiped his forehead; he was glad, after all, that jim had not been there; he would try running the mill on this system, and beth for a while, perhaps for good, could be spared unhappiness. but when, after writing jim a letter detailing the proposed change, he rose from his chair, he found a workman standing by his side. the man, with some appearance of unhappiness, touched his forelock. "beg pardon, sir, but the missis is sick." "your wife? i'm sorry. i suppose you've come for an advance of money." "no, sir!" and the man showed pride. "i can get along, mr. mather, on my regular pay." "then what can i do for you?" "it's this new regulation, sir--fortnightly pay." "fortnightly pay!" echoed mather. "yes, sir. it'll be all right usually, mr. mather, and none of the men cares much." there was a tightness in the manager's brain; he put up his hand and stroked his lip. "let me see, when did the new system begin?" "last week, sir. and as i say, i wouldn't care, sir, but just now it comes so hard that i'm askin'--just as a favour, mr. mather--to be paid weekly till the missis is well." "so!" said mather, recovering himself. "i hope it's not too much to ask, sir?" "no, no," and the manager turned to the safe. what was he to find--an empty cash drawer? his hand trembled as he swung open the heavy door; he thought of little beth. if jim had been so weak, so ungrateful--it was all right! there lay the rolls of bills! but not the same; the envelopes had been opened, the money mussed and then crammed hastily back into the drawer again. moreover, these were not the fresh, crisp bills which pease took pride in sending weekly to the mill. mather took the whole drawer to the desk and paid the workman. "make a note, miss jenks, that swinton is to be paid weekly so long as his wife is ill." the man, thankful, departed; but mather sat over the cash drawer, sorting the money and counting it. there were many bills of the high denominations which never came to the mill, since they would be of little use in paying the men. but it was all there, every cent. what was the meaning of it? and now it was miss jenks who stood at mather's side, waiting to speak. he thrust the money again into the drawer. "miss jenks?" as she did not speak at once he looked at her face, and asked hastily: "is anything wrong?" "i've--i've got to leave here, mr. mather." he rose and put the cash drawer in its place; then he went back to her. "this is very astonishing. why?" "i must," was all she would say. "is it wages? hours? are you overworked?" to each question she shook her head. "i consider you very valuable to us. i have thought of asking you to come to the city office." she looked up at him eagerly. "oh, let me come!" "then there is some friction here?" she looked down, blushing. "no friction." "one question only, miss jenks. is it mr. wayne?" she nodded; mather took his seat. then she took a step nearer to him, looking to see if he were angry. "don't be put out with him. he--i--it's nothing, mr. mather." "so i should suppose," he answered grimly. "mr. mather," she said suddenly, "when i worked for you here i got to think of you almost as an older brother. don't be offended." she made a little gesture of one thin hand. "i have no mother. may i ask you if i am doing right?" he was touched, and rose again. "certainly." "mr. wayne," she began again slowly, "has been very--nice to me. i didn't think about it; i got to like it very much. yesterday he--kissed me. isn't he engaged to miss blanchard, sir?" "he is." "i thought so; and yet, mr. mather, i couldn't be offended. this afternoon, when he went away, he came to kiss me again, and i couldn't try to stop him. was it shameful, sir?" he ground his teeth. "of him!" "and he left me this." she opened the hand which she had held tight closed, and showed a jewelled pin. mather took it; it was costly, very handsome. "well, miss jenks?" "i don't think i'm that kind of a girl, sir. and yet i'm frightened at myself--for not being able to resist him, i mean. and so i've got to go, sir." up to this time she had spoken quietly, with little sign of emotion, but now she clasped her hands together, and tears welled out on her cheeks. "i cannot stay another day!" he turned away from her, and for a space strode up and down the office, cursing silently. then he sat and tried to think. jim, jim! "you're not offended, sir?" she asked. "offended? you poor little girl, it tears at my heart to see your face and know what you feel. you're doing just right; yes, just right. you shall come to me in the city, to-morrow if you wish. i know an old and homely woman who will be glad of this place." she shrank at the energy of his sneer. "you won't be angry with him, sir?" "not angry?" he cried, astonished. then he said quietly, "i shall do nothing at once. but there are other considerations as well." "others?" she asked fearfully. "he isn't--going wrong, mr. mather?" "what makes you think that?" he demanded. "perhaps," she said, "i'd better tell you something, if it will help you help him. there's one man--oh, mr. mather, i've been so glad of the way the papers speak of you--if you would only stand for mayor of stirling, sir! i dislike that mr. ellis. and it's he who's been here twice to see mr. wayne, and telephoned him this afternoon to come to town." "of course you know there's no reason he shouldn't?" "only i don't like him, sir. and mr. wayne made something of a secret of it, though he's been talking with me quite freely, lately. but i couldn't help knowing, and i hope there's nothing wrong." she took a step toward her desk. "if you've got nothing for me to do, sir, i'll go now. to-morrow at your office, mr. mather?" "to-morrow." he sank so deep in thought that he scarcely heeded her good-bye, and leaving the pin on jim's desk she slipped out of the office with her hopes, fears, thanks, trembling on her lips but yet unexpressed. she was glad to leave the little office where she had been so frightened of herself. and since mather had been always kind, she felt sure he would be kind to wayne. kind! mather's fingers itched for jim's collar. perhaps he had intended no harm with the girl, but such things went easily from bad to worse. and what had he been doing with the money? but the only real reason for complaint lay in the new system of fortnightly pay. mather concluded that he would wait till saturday; then he would come down, see the men paid, and have it out with jim. chapter xxi ellis takes his last step but one it was midwinter, in the full swing of social events, yet judith had been withdrawing herself more and more from what was going on. she disliked people's talk; besides, her interest in mere frivolity was growing less, fixing itself with proportionate keenness upon ellis's affairs. for ellis came continually oftener, and at last she had begun to look forward to his visits. more than one of his interests had been growing complicated; he told her of them freely. most of all, the street-railway matter promised trouble from the threatened strike. on the evening of ellis's and the colonel's third exchange of note and check ellis came to see judith; she was very ready for a talk. it pleased and flattered him to see the flash of the eye lighting up her beauty, the eagerness with which she led him to the familiar subject. "stunning!" he thought to himself. "is she dressed up so for me?" the handsome gown, the few but valuable jewels--and the face! "soon!" he said to himself confidently. meanwhile, step by step! he had planned the next one carefully, spending on it more thought than on many of his great strokes in politics or business. she was more on his mind than ever, partly because, as a woman, she was a strange problem to him; partly, however, because his interest in her was growing steadily deeper, and to win her was becoming constantly of greater moment. the unnamed emotion still increasing in him, he explained it by the fact that it was impossible for him to be contented as he once was, in the days when he drove without rest at his politics or business, having nothing to look forward to at the day's end, and with only the dull set of common-minded men as his companions. how far finer was judith than they! though he still feared her idealism, it gave him a sense of the worth of beauty and refinement. and that other faculty in her, to appreciate his material achievements, was not only a stimulus which he felt had become indispensable, but was also the susceptibility by which he hoped to win her. aiming all his powers at that weakness, and looking back on the occasion when the mere sight of mather was enough to capture judith's attention from him, ellis planned so to raise her interest in himself that it would permit of no interruption. he told her of the threatened strike. the demands of the men were not serious; it would not be a great drain on his pocket to grant the increase in wages. the free transfers would be troublesome; the extra service in rush hours a bother: nevertheless, all this could be undertaken, and would be, if it were not for the principle involved. and in order that he might know how to decide, he needed her help. "my help!" cried judith. "perhaps," he said, smiling at her interest, "you don't realise that i consult you, miss blanchard. but all these things i speak to you about have more or less dependence on the state of public feelings. do you know that i have come to consider you as a kind of barometer of that?" "me?" she cried again, much pleased. "you read the papers, and digest the news. you see people and talk things over. you're rather above ordinary business, naturally, and so, looking down on its workings, it seems to me as if you see _into_ it. do you understand? you see clearer than the men themselves who are in the midst of it." "i never supposed that," she said. "i never dreamed of it!" "you have a habit of looking forward, too," he went on. "that's what i like, what i need. i get confused myself, sometimes; i can't see the battle for the smoke. my own strategy is often doubtful to me. then i turn to you." "you overrate me," she exclaimed. "not i," he answered. "you aren't offended if i speak so frankly? for i wouldn't make use of you unless you are quite willing." "certainly i am willing to help," she said. "thank you," he replied. "now it's this way, miss blanchard. i'm not working only for the present, as i think you know. i'm looking rather farther forward than most people. besides, i'm mixed up in many matters. finally i'm rather alone. politics, the railway, the cotton corporation, half a dozen things i carry almost by myself; i'm the chief, anyway; i haven't even a partner to consult. i have to watch my own lieutenants to see they do things right, good workers as they are. it's brains i need to help me--reliable scouts and clear-headed advisers." "i can't be an adviser," said judith, "but i could scout, perhaps. will you let me?" "i want you for both," he returned. "you can advise, and you do. i want some scouting just now, and advice after it, by somebody absolutely impartial. somebody who wouldn't hesitate to set me right if she saw that i was wrong." "tell me!" begged judith. "i have my preconceived notions," he said. "let me explain them to you, so that you can understand the line i'm working on. this isn't capital versus labour, miss blanchard; it isn't even the corporation against the public--not as i look at it. no, it's the present against the future. i could do the things the public wants; certainly i could. but that's not the point. the question is, do they know what's best for themselves? that's for you and me to decide!" he had been leaning forward, speaking with emphasis; now as he finished he sat again upright, but the flash of his eye kindled an answering fire in hers. "for you and me!" she repeated. he leaned forward again, holding her glance with his. "the people," he said, "think they know what they want. but the best of them are very shortsighted, even the educated men. your friends are beginning to join the cry against me; i won't deny it sounds mighty reasonable: better hours and pay for the men; better service for the people. well, do you or i suppose that's all there is in it?" she drew in her breath; how much more he saw, and knew, than others! "let's go back," he said. "i'm in politics, indirectly. i'm blamed for it. fellows, good fellows i've known for years, are looked down on and called ellis's men, just because they see things as i do. all very well for men who sit back with white gloves on their hands and say that politics aren't clean. come now, i'll acknowledge it to you, miss blanchard, politics are not clean. i've seen things done that--well, never mind. i believe corruption has been in the world since the first of time; i think it's in a certain grade of human nature. you can't get it out. but there's less of it than is supposed; and on my word, miss blanchard, none of it can be laid to me!" again she drew a breath, and still meeting his eye, she nodded her agreement. "if one of those fellows, in the city government through no act of mine, votes for my measures, shall i pay him not to? there are few enough of them. well, we understand that, but people might ask me why i'm in politics at all. miss blanchard, i point to what i've done. and to what i'm doing! sometimes it hurts me that people misunderstand me; mostly i laugh. but i want you to know, as i guess you do anyway. i'm building this city for the future." again he drew away and made the impressive pause, but in a moment he was once more at the charge. "the water-works affair, look at that! people cry 'steal! boodle!' but do they know what i'm doing? do they know what i'm saving them from? miss blanchard, you know, if they don't, that this city is at a turning point in its development. we're just growing from a small city into a big one. then it's the part of the men with brains to prepare for the change. look at boston, look at new york: see how they're struggling with their water problems, their lighting problems, above all with their transportation problems--and why?" he snapped out the question abruptly, then answered it himself. "because they didn't look forward and prepare! but that's just what i propose to do for stirling!" she was quite his own now, listening as if fascinated. her bright eye was fixed on his, confusing him slightly, yet it gave encouragement. his confidence increased, and after a moment he began again with more energy. "look at the water-works--they're vast! i've condemned a whole valley out grantham way; the reservoirs we're making are much too large for the city. but in ten years, what then? still too large, i'll grant. yet when stirling is twice its present size, _then_ the reservoir and park system, for i'm combining them, will have been got so cheaply that this city will be richer than any other. water system installed, lighting problems solved, all land necessary for municipal purposes bought and paid for _now_. the next generation, miss blanchard, will have reason to praise us. isn't that plain? and i mean to do the same with the transportation system." "go on!" she begged him as he paused. "it's somewhat different in this case," he said. "the water-works are being made with public money, the parks also. but the street-railway is a corporation, and although i control it, there are stockholders to consider, and a great big public to keep in good temper while at the same time i am working for the future. there's a problem, miss blanchard--to pay dividends, put on extra cars, and raise wages, while i'm buying land for future stations, barns, and terminals, and while i'm even thinking of the construction of a subway." "a subway!" she cried. "yes," he answered, "don't you see the advantage of it?" "indeed i do," exclaimed judith. "our streets are very crowded now, down town, and the cars make such blocks! but a subway! wouldn't it be terribly expensive?" "looked at in a broad way, no," he answered. "to condemn and take the necessary real estate will cost nothing now to what it will ten years hence. and can you doubt that it will be needed then? then why not set about it now? why not ask the public to incommode itself for a while, to gain a permanent benefit? what they ask is only temporary; if we let things slip along from year to year, patching up and patching on, we'll never be better off. there was a man hired a place; in fifteen years of rent he paid the whole value of it and yet didn't own it. better to have mortgaged and bought, in the first place. that's what i propose to do here." "i understand," she said. "i acknowledge," he went on, "that i appoint myself to do these things. officious, isn't it? and i'm selfish about it. i want to do it my own way, and i want to have the credit of doing it. oh, it's a job, it's a task!" as if carried away by enthusiasm, he rose and stood before her. "i tell you, miss blanchard," he cried, "i am just beginning the hardest fight of my life! but i like work, i enjoy a fight, and with the help of my friends (and you're the chief of them) i shall put it through!" he took three steps away from her, and she watched him, not feeling her throbbing heart and quickened breath. as he turned again, she asked him how he meant to go about the work. "by legislative help," he explained, coming back to his seat by her side. "prepare to hear a good deal against me: that i've bought the common council and own seats in the legislature, for instance. it's long been said that the mayor's my own--for purposes of corruption, of course. now you can see that my plans are too big for me to carry out by myself, or even for the corporation to do alone. i must have public money to help me. and besides that, more than that, i must be granted the application of a principle which has seldom, almost never, been allowed out of the hands of the legislature or the courts." "what is that?" she asked. he answered, "eminent domain!" "to be able," she asked in astonishment, "by yourself to condemn and take land?" "yes," he answered confidently. "you will meet very strong opposition." "i expect it," he replied. "and i shall be justified in asking for the right. i am looking to the result." she nodded thoughtfully. "now, your part in this," he began again, and she looked up quickly, "is to be, if you will let me say it so, my ear. the plan will be proposed soon; i shall know what's said for it, i want to know what's said against it. you can help me gage the quality of the opposition. will you do it?" "willingly," she answered. "but the strike?" "ah," he returned, "i wish i might ask you to help me there also. there are two things which can assure a strike success: one is determination in the men themselves, one is the sympathy of the public. do you go about enough, do you see people enough--of the middle class, i mean--to be able to form an opinion on these two points?" "i can do so," she answered. "thank you," he said eagerly. "one thing more--your advice! when you have done all this, will you give me your opinion freely?" "if it is of any worth," she replied, "you will be welcome to it." the enthusiasm, he feared, had lapsed; he did his best to rouse it. "if you range yourself against me, i shall not be surprised." "i? against you!" she cried. "i appreciate the ties of habit and friendship," he said. "but for them there are many who would be with me. conservatism is a strong force, as i know very well." "do you think," she inquired, "that i cannot see the wise course when you show it to me so clearly?" he concealed his gratification by a counter question. "do you see the struggle which is to come out of this?" "how much and how long will it be?" "it may take years," he said. "political campaigns may turn on it. next fall's election, the mayoralty, may be determined by what we two, here in this parlour, talk over by ourselves." he saw the flush which overspread her face, the pride which came into her eyes, yet he hesitated before the final stroke. "will all that happen?" she asked eagerly. she opened the way for him. dropping his eyes, he sat for a moment to collect himself; when he looked up his face was serious. "miss blanchard," he said, "there will be from all this certain results, personal to me, which are beginning to show very clearly. whether your friends are going to make this a demonstration against me, or whether they think they must act, i can't say, but we are going to come to an open rupture." then he looked at her with a smile which was half amused, half deprecatory. "do you remember that i once confessed to you my foolish social ambition?" "it was not foolish!" she objected. "perhaps not," he returned, "and yet--perhaps. at any rate, i had the ambition once." "do you not now?" she asked. "if i have," ellis answered, "i may have to give it up. for if your friends come out against me, and if we fight this to a finish, then it will all amount to this: that i must choose between my career and my--acquaintances." he was managing her well! he felt an unauthorised emotion, prompting him to say words akin to those which he had heard jim say to beth, but--with such inspiration as judith's--far more strong and eager. yet all such feeling he beat down, and though she felt the lack, he was succeeding with her. coldly as he made his statements and carefully repressed all emotion, he was still able to rouse her enthusiasm. "would you hesitate?" she asked with spirit. "it seems easy to you," he returned steadily, "but consider. it means that i must live a life alone. i have the american spirit, miss blanchard, which urges me upward. i have seen what is better than what i have; i am trying for it. whatever happens, i won't go back. but the door is shut in my face. so i stay alone outside." "it must not be!" she exclaimed. "but if it happens so?" "it is too unjust!" she could say nothing more, but her feelings enlisted her on his side, and she restrained herself with difficulty. her generosity, her energy, showed so plainly in her glowing features that he asked himself: "is this the moment?" then the rings of the portieres rattled. it was the colonel, who, having heard the earnest tones, and knowing well how to approach judith on an unpleasant subject, chose to come now in order to protect himself by the presence of a third person. "judith," he said, standing before them, beaming benevolently, "i have just had an idea. it was very pleasant when mr. ellis dined with us recently. suppose we ask him again, and have some others here: mrs. harmon, say, for a matron, and some of our friends.--with ellis here," the colonel thought, "she can't refuse." but he was surprised at the eagerness with which she accepted the suggestion. judith began at once to plan whom she should ask, and astonished the colonel by the names she mentioned. the judge, the fennos, none of the younger people. "a formidable affair," exclaimed he, surprised and puzzled. "do you think that you care to attempt so much?" judith turned to ellis. "you shall see!" she said. "you are very kind," he answered. and now he was all on fire, waiting for the colonel to go. this girl, so cold to others, so kind to him, was wonderful. with her, what could he not achieve? "go, go!" he found himself muttering impatiently, as still the colonel stayed. why did he not leave them to themselves? but it was judith who was keeping her father, for she had seen the shadow of the approaching crisis, and feared it as a woman may who, having once dreamed of love, flinches at a union devoid of passion. not yet! so she made the colonel talk. ellis finally took his leave; certainly much had been gained. judith accompanied him to the door. "i shall think over all you have said," she told him. "it is wonderful, what you have planned!" "and you will help me?" he asked. "be sure of that," she replied. yes, much had been gained, he told himself as he went away. he had thrilled her, and if he could rouse her so easily----he struck his hands together. there should be no more delay. judith went into the sitting-room, where her father was explaining to beth the plans for the dinner. judith felt that she was trembling with the reaction from her previous excitement; as beth's quiet eyes rested on her it seemed as if her feelings could be read. "don't you think it will be pleasant, beth?" asked the colonel. "no," answered beth firmly. "i hope it will not be done." leaving her father to expostulate and argue, judith went up-stairs to her chamber. beth's disapproval had the effect of a cold sponge pressed upon her temples; she began to control herself. never had judith been able to overlook beth's opinion lightly; she expressed the feeling of the best of their caste. what power had ellis, judith asked, that he could so carry her away? she sat down to reason with herself, to measure by line and square the structure reared by his imagination. then she began to glow again: how wonderful, far-reaching, philanthropic were his plans! in that mood she went to bed, and had fallen into a doze when she became aware that some one was replenishing the fire. when the bright blaze had lighted up the ceiling, beth, in her wrapper, came and seated herself at judith's side. chapter xxii haroun al raschid beth saw that her sister was awake; stooping forward, she kissed her gently. "don't be put out with me, dear," she said, "for what i'm going to say." "i will not," answered judith. the hour, the warm bed, the firelight, made her unusually gentle. "what is it, dear?" "it is that dinner," answered beth. "i wish to make sure you understand--what people will think of it, i mean. excuse me, judith; i see it more clearly than you can, as a third person, dear." "well," judith asked, "what will people think?" "two things," beth answered. "first, that you are trying to get mr. ellis into society." "i am willing they should think that." "the second is," went on beth slowly, "that the dinner, given here at our house, and not at mrs. harmon's, as perhaps you could arrange to have it----" "not with the judge's consent," judith interrupted. "or some one else's, then," said beth. "given by us, anyway, people would think the dinner would mean----" "go on," directed judith. "that you and mr. ellis are engaged." there was silence, in which the crackling of the fire, and the darting of the shadows on the ceiling, were painfully noticeable to judith. it was true! people would think thus. "well?" asked beth at length. judith made no answer, and beth, bending down, snuggled her head against her sister's throat. "i hope," she whispered, "that you can manage to give it up." still judith made no sign; beth only made it harder. "judith, judith!" beth urged, gently pressing her with her arms. "i don't see," said judith at last, speaking with difficulty, "how i can give up the dinner." beth sat up quickly. "truly?" she demanded, with the energy of disappointment. "truly," answered judith firmly. "good-night," said beth abruptly. she rose and went away without a kiss. then judith lay for a long time awake: the line of cleavage was beginning. the choice was hard, hard! but in the morning she wrote her invitations, after agreeing upon a date with mrs. harmon, who leaped at the chance. yet she showed only too distinctly what people would think of the event. "haven't you," she inquired before judith left, "haven't you something to tell me, judith?" "nothing," answered judith shortly. "good-bye." she wrote her notes in her father's name, puzzling first over the wording. it would be easy to trap people into coming, and when they arrived they could find ellis of the party. but that seemed not to be fair; unconventionally she inserted in each note the words, "to meet mr. stephen f. ellis." when the notes were written she took them out and dropped them quickly into the post-box, lest her courage should fail her. thus it was settled! the notes were to the fennos, the watsons, mr. and miss pease. twenty-four hours, and the whole town would be discussing her. twenty-four hours brought saturday; in the morning mr. fenno came to the house. he always interested her, for he meant power. ellis, pease, fenno: such was their rank in the town; but judith felt, as she welcomed him, that he was as a king about to abdicate, looking back on his reign with weary eyes, and measuring by a standard of his own. he was one to whom others were aggregations of forces--potentialities, not men. his heavy head with its thick hair and deep eyes reminded her more than ever of an old lion; the rumble of his voice gave force to his slightest word. judith told him she would send for beth. "no, my dear," he said, "i am glad beth is not here. i came to see you." with some wonder she led him into the parlour, where mr. fenno handed her a note and watched her while she read it. it was the usual short formula: "mr. and mrs. william fenno regret that they cannot accept----," etc. "i am sorry," said judith as she folded up the paper. "that is my wife's answer," explained mr. fenno. "i came to give you my own in person." but then he gazed at her in silence until she became restive under the scrutiny. "my dear miss judith," he said suddenly, "i like you very much." "mr. fenno," she returned, "you scarcely know me." "i have watched you a great deal," he replied. "i like your spirit, your rebellion against the stupid life we lead. upon my word, i don't know what business your father has with two such daughters; he doesn't appreciate you, i'm sure. i'll change with him and welcome.--there, don't be offended with me. i come to beg you to be moderate. remember that i speak to you with the voice of generations. not even you can afford to disregard the wisdom of the fathers." "i do not wish to," she answered, puzzled. "my wife," he said, "would write that note and let the matter pass. but i want to thank you, first, for so frankly putting your purpose in your invitation. 'to meet mr. ellis.' we might have come, indeed we should have come, but for that. but we can't mix with him, miss judith." "it seems to me," she returned, "that the wisdom of the fathers usually means crystallisation, sir." "my wife," he said, "is beyond crystallisation: she is dead. of course she goes through the form of living. she called you 'that young woman' when she received the invitation, and wrote as you see, from the dead in heaven to the dead in--limbo. but, my dear girl, did you ever hear of me agreeing with my wife? almost never! this time i did." "mr. fenno----" began judith. "let me go on," he begged. "of course you understand what a declaration you are offering to your friends; what a choice as well. i know your opinion of us; we, society, are irksome to you. just as irksome to me, i assure you; i hate my own life. and yet we are a force; in spite of all appearances we are a force for good. come, you and i are so far apart in age that we cannot be angry with each other. let me say my say, and when we part let us smile and go our ways." "very well," she replied. "miss judith," he said, "there has been an aristocracy in every democracy that lived three generations. ours is very old, somewhat dried and formal, with a hard crust. figureheads we are to a degree; rather useless, perhaps. that is why such a girl as you is a blessing to us; a few more years, and you can teach us many, many things. stay with us; you mustn't go off in the wrong direction." she made no answer. "this man ellis," he pursued. "you cannot bring him in. believe me, it is impossible. you must choose between us." "what if i make the choice?" she inquired. "and choose against us? you would be sorry. my dear, what has blinded your eyes? i know you admire his energy, his immense capacities. but those are not everything. ellis is not honest." "mr. fenno!" she cried, starting. "i have watched him," he went on steadily, "since first he came to town. i know his methods. where did he get his money?" "through ordinary business," she asserted. "until he became president of the street-railway," said mr. fenno with emphasis, "ellis never held a position, never did any business, never appeared before the city clearly as concerned in any legitimate undertaking. since he built his house over here he has become respectable--outwardly. but that house was built with public money." "never!" she cried indignantly. "he has his own little tammany here," mr. fenno said unmoved. "but he is becoming too bold. he will wreck himself by the demands he is making for the street-railway system." "the public will be afraid of granting eminent domain; he expects that. for the rest, what else is he showing than wise forethought?" "for the rest," he rejoined, his deep voice emphasising harshly, "he is but using the plans of george mather, which came to him with the railway." "no!" she cried involuntarily. he made no answer, but looked at her silently. "mr. fenno," she said, to cover her confusion, "this question is progress against conservatism." "so," he remarked, "we have arrived at a deadlock. well, i expected it. good-bye, miss judith. i shall be interested in the result of this." they parted formally, yet his last keen glance troubled her. and what he had said! no one had ever accused ellis before--not directly. whispers she had heard, of course, but such quiet confidence as mr. fenno showed was new to her; it brought the question nearer home, and seemed to command her to find out where ellis got his money. for some hours she was troubled, but at last, as one is prone to do before a great question, judith put it aside for a smaller one. whom should she ask in the fennos' place? she decided that she would not venture again with the older people, and choosing george mather and mary carr, wrote the notes to invite them. then, late in the day, she found an answer to mr. fenno's arguments. her father approved of ellis: that was enough. the defense was specious, almost cowardly, for judith knew her father. but she regained her self-control, supported herself anew by the argument of progressiveness against conservatism, and arrived again at complete approval of ellis. she recalled their last talk, remembered his request, and decided she would try to fulfill it. she had spent most of the day in the house; it was growing dark, she needed exercise, and would go and watch, at a certain crowded corner, the working of the transfer system. once in the cold air, her spirits rose, and she hurried down town. at length she arrived where cars loaded to the fenders groaned slowly by, or stood and blocked the traffic. the streets were full, the sidewalks crowded with people hurrying homeward. judith liked the twilight, the bustle, and the lighted shops. at the familiar corner she found many shoppers waiting for their cars, and went and stood among them. she seemed to herself to be doing something romantic, and (little as such considerations usually appealed to her) was pleased to stand among the people like a queen in disguise, to listen to their grievances, guilelessly expressed, and to bear the complaints to the man who best knew what was needed. it was an attractive picture which she painted of her own importance. but just as she was congratulating herself on the deepening dusk, which made features dim, an electric light sputtered out overhead and flooded the place with its palpitating radiance. an acquaintance immediately recognised and spoke to her. scarcely had she got rid of him than another, catching her eye, bowed and made toward her. "this will never do," she thought, as she gave him the slip. accordingly, she went to a doorway where the shadow from the lamp was deep. there she stood and watched, while cars came and went, while men and women rushed and struggled to board them, or while others, moving impatiently with cold and weariness, waited and fretted while they read in vain the wording on each car. it was an active scene, a fascinating one to judith, until a small figure came and stood between her and the others, aloof and watching, like herself. it was ellis. she was amused, and drew within her shelter lest he should see her: she would tease him when next they should meet. then she saw another man, a fellow in rough working-clothes, watching ellis from one side. presently the man advanced to him and spoke; judith did not hear their words until ellis, turning, led the man away from the crowd until he stood within a few yards of her. "now, what did you say?" demanded ellis, halting. "i've never been paid, you know i've never been paid, sir, for that chebasset job. only fifty i've ever got; i was to have a hundred." the man spoke in a whine; his voice was husky and in a degree familiar to judith; as the light fell strongly from overhead, his hat cast a deep shadow on his face. "that job failed," answered ellis. "i did my best," answered the man sullenly. then he quickly changed his manner; his voice became sharp, yet still it reminded judith of tones she once had heard. "pay me!" he demanded. "pay me, mr. ellis, or by god i'll have something to say to your men on those cars that will make this strike certain. if i tell them of chebasset----" "wait!" and ellis raised a hand. "how much truth is there in this talk of a strike among my men?" "a good deal," snarled the fellow. "it wouldn't take much to bring it on." "thank you," said ellis composedly. he put his hand in his pocket, drew out a roll of bank bills, and gave some to the man. "i am much obliged to you for the information." "fifty?" demanded the workman. "sixty," ellis replied. the man looked at ellis, then at the notes; suddenly his bearing altered, and he touched his hat. "thank you," he mumbled, and walked away. ellis turned again to watch the cars. judith stood motionless; the talk meant nothing to her, except that it showed her ellis's resource and revealed the small ways, as well as the great, in which he was called on to manage men. nevertheless, she felt uncomfortable, and when ellis had moved away she prepared to slip off. but before her path was entirely clear she saw jim wayne approach and speak to ellis. in jim's appearance was that which struck her with astonishment. for he, usually so neat, was untidy; his coat was buttoned askew, and from under his hat his hair strayed in disorder. he accosted ellis eagerly; she heard him say "here you are" in a tone of relief, and began speaking quickly. judith took a step forward, preparing to go. but then ellis turned and led jim near the doorway; judith's chance to escape was lost, yet she was on the point of revealing herself, when jim's words stayed her. "you must! you must!" he was saying, in such a tone of actual demand that judith wondered and shrank back. few persons dared to speak to ellis thus. "must?" repeated ellis angrily. but then he laughed. "wayne, you have no claim on me." "who gave me the idea?" cried jim. "who told me what to do? you! but it is gone--all gone!" the gesture with which he struck his hands together revealed both horror and despair. "your wits as well," returned ellis shortly. "if you want help from a man, don't begin by insulting him." "but something must be done at once!" cried jim. "if mather----" "i understand that he went to chebasset this morning," remarked ellis as if indifferently, yet he glanced sidewise upon the young man. "he returned very much disturbed." "there!" exclaimed jim. "he has found it out!" again he clenched his hands with that gesture of despair. judith felt that something was hanging over him, over her, and in spite of herself drew deeper into the shadow. "mather can be quieted," said ellis, unperturbed. "come, this is no place for you to carry on like this. meet me this evening." "where?" "at--some one's house. half-past nine." "it must be earlier," returned jim. "then come to the blanchards; i mean to dine there." "no," answered jim, "i can't go there. but promise me to come away early!" "i will come when i choose," answered ellis impatiently. then he added: "go! i see mather." jim turned and darted off, holding his head low. ellis walked composedly in the opposite direction; and to judith, thus left alone, the sound of the shuffling of the crowd, the rumbling of the electrics, the subdued roar of the more distant traffic, rose suddenly into life. she moved forward, saw that her escape was clear, and hurried away. at the next corner she found a public carriage and directed the driver to take her home. the vehicle was closed; she let down a window and leaned to it for the air. what were these matters she had overheard? the episode of the workman passed from her mind, but what had jim demanded of ellis, what had gone wrong, and where were they to meet? they were far more intimate than she had supposed. and why had jim avoided mather? weariness came over judith as she considered her own ignorance. these were the things which men did by themselves; these were the signs of those business troubles which women heard of but never met, the smirch and jostle of down-town affairs. such things happened daily--and judith roused to a feeling of envy. little daily worries and cares--the men had too many of them, doubtless, but she had far too few. and now, as still she leaned by her window, she saw mather. he was on a corner, full in the glare of a street-light, and he seemed to be looking among the passers as if in search of jim. the carriage jolted slowly across the cobbles and the tracks; then, blocked by vehicles in front, it stopped almost at his side. judith drew back, but still she watched him. tall, strong, somewhat anxious and overburdened, why could he not be--different? a woman stood by his side, or rather a girl with a woman's haggard eyes. she was looking up sidewise into mather's face, studying it with a vixenish eagerness. she touched him on the arm, and he looked down at her. "say," she said, "you're a good-lookin' feller." he answered soberly. "thank you." "isn't there some place," she asked, "where we could eat together?" his hand went to his pocket. as he made the motion a figure, large, noiseless, with gleaming buttons on a blue uniform, approached and stood close behind: a policeman, watching curiously. mather drew out a bank note and offered it to the girl. "with that," he asked, "can you be good for a few days?" "w'at yer mean?" she demanded. but she snatched the money. "ah, you're a real swell, you are." "go home," he said. "go home--jenny." "jenny!" she exclaimed. "how'd yer know my name?" then as if warned of the presence behind she turned and saw the policeman, shrank, and fled. the roundsman and mather regarded each other. "did you know her, sir?" asked the man. "never saw her before," was the answer. "you don't read rossetti, i suppose, officer. here comes my car." he stepped from the curb to go behind judith's carriage; at the same moment the vehicle started with a jerk and went swiftly forward. for a little longer it was involved in the city traffic, then it turned into a quiet street and bowled onward quickly. once more judith leaned at the window, glad of the cold air. she was oppressed; to-night life seemed complicated, awful, even tragic. chapter xxiii plain language once at home, where beth and the colonel were still absent, judith went to the book-case in the little parlour and drew out the volume of rossetti's poems. "jenny," she found in the index, and turning to the page, she read: "lazy laughing languid jenny, fond of a kiss and fond of a guinea----" no, not that kind of a jenny was that whom she had seen. rather this: "when, wealth and health slipped past, you stare along the streets alone, and there, round the long park, across the bridge, the cold lamps at the pavement's edge wind on together and apart, a fiery serpent for your heart." and then the moral, the world-moral, this: "like a toad within a stone seated while time crumbles on; which sits there since the world was curs'd by man's transgression at the first; which always--whitherso the stone be flung--sits there, deaf, blind, alone;- aye, and shall not be driven out till that which shuts him round about break at the very master's stroke, and the dust thereof vanish as smoke, and the seed of man vanish as dust:- even so within this world is lust." judith sat with the book open in her lap, meditating. she knew enough of that lower life to have for it a man's pity rather than a woman's scorn; recalling mather's action, she liked him better for it. and she began to think of him regretfully, as one who just missed the highest capacities and so failed to meet the supreme tests. "a fine fellow!" she murmured, so absorbed that she did not hear the door-bell ring, nor notice footsteps until mather himself entered the room with hurried step. he wore his overcoat; on his brow was still the frown of care. "ah," he said, "i am glad to find you. is jim wayne here, judith?" she rose and laid the book aside, carefully, so that he should not see what she had been reading. "no," she answered. "it is his night to come. but i saw him down town, george, and he looked worried. is anything wrong?" "it has been a bad day in stocks," he answered. "i must find jim. excuse my troubling you, judith." and he moved toward the door. "wait, george." she took from the table the note which earlier she had written him. "i have an invitation for you." he took it, opened it, and began to read. "ah!" he said at first, as if with pleasure. but as she watched she saw a quick and startling change in his countenance; his forehead contracted with pain, and he closed his lips firmly. but he read on to the end, and then looked at her quietly. "i cannot come," he said. with a conscious summoning of her courage she asked, "you have an engagement?" "no," he replied. "but i cannot march in ellis's triumph." "you are entirely mistaken," she said haughtily. "if not yet, then soon," he returned. she made no answer, yet she flushed with indignation; he bowed and turned to the door. then he came back. "judith, will you allow me to speak with you frankly? a few words may make a difference to us forever." it was not the words which impressed her, it was the emotion which drove them from his breast, which burned in his eyes. she was so astonished that she made no answer; he said, to emphasise his request, "it may be seldom that we speak again." "seldom speak again?" she repeated. he took her words for a consent. "judith," he asked, "what is this man ellis to you? do you realise that he is using you?" her indignation rose. "using me!" "to get among us," he explained. "he has no gratitude, no remorse. once he has used a man he throws him aside like an old glove; he has never shown personal feeling for any one. why do you have to do with him?" "you envy his ability," she said. "not i," he answered. "i admire his firmness, his persistence, his capacity. but i cannot admire him. judith, he is a bane, a poison in our system, a disease!" "you mistake him," she cried. "not i. i know him, and am going to fight him." "fight him, then!" she returned. he spoke more quietly. "we have been careless with him; he has brought corruption into the city. but small cities are not so conscienceless as big ones; the better elements are rising against him. this day i was formally asked to lead them, and i shall probably be against his man in the mayoralty contest next fall. it is a battle of principles: that is why i can never take salt with him." she was quite unmoved, using her previous defense. "it will be a struggle of the new against the old." "ah, judith," he replied almost sadly, "is he blinding you thus? and do you see my meaning clearly? all the better elements will oppose him. whoever is with him will be against us." "who are you," she cried, "to pronounce on good and evil? take care against self-righteousness, george." "i will take care," he answered. "but there is another side to this, judith. put this larger issue by and turn to the smaller, the personal one between you and me. judith, i have loved you. i thought you were womanly at bottom. but have you no heart, after all?" his intensity was growing. "that still troubles you?" she inquired. "are you absolutely cold?" he asked. "are your old friends nothing to you? what if they turn from you?" "so," she said, "you threaten me with that?" "it is inevitable," he said with energy. "even as my love--no boy's love, judith--wavers and grows sick, so will their friendship. have we all mistaken you? will you give such approval to such a man?" anger at last grew strong within her. "george!" she said in warning. but he, casting before her his burning reproaches, would not be repressed. "i say the only thing which can bring you to yourself. do my words sting? they tear me as i utter them!" his face was changing as he spoke, paling as if the effort weakened him, yet still he dragged out the words. "judith, i could see you married to an honourable man, and still love and bless you. i will idealise you until you besmirch yourself--but you are no child, to do that unknowingly. on the day you give yourself to ellis----" "stop!" she interrupted. "no!" he cried. "it is in your mind; you cannot deny it. on the day, judith, that you give yourself to him, you sell yourself!" he stood voiceless and panting, gazing at her with accusing eyes. and for an instant she reeled, a voice within her cried "jenny!" and she saw that woman of the streets. then fierce indignation flooded her veins; she started to the table, seized the japanese knife, and held it naked in her hand. with ease she balanced and pointed the heavy weapon. "do you suppose," he asked, "that you can hurt me deeper?" for a moment they stood confronting, his courage as strong as her anger. then she threw the dagger clattering upon the table, and pointed to the door. "go!" he gave her one searching look, bowed, and went quickly from the house. the colonel, entering some fifteen minutes later, found judith in the arm-chair where she had flung herself after pacing the room. "judith," he said, "i met mr. ellis just now, and he said he was coming up to dinner." "very well," she answered inattentively. he saw that her brow was clouded, and his desire to speak with her seriously began to melt. when he was alone it seemed to him simple enough to say a few fatherly words in favour of ellis; the colonel wished very much to have his mind relieved about the future. but now was not the time, not while that frown was on her face. so he went up-stairs. then his statement found its way into judith's mind, and she sprang to her feet. ellis was coming--then _it_ was coming! she hurried up-stairs and dressed herself with care; when she was ready she was a picture. but it was not her gown and scanty jewels that made her radiant, but the glow within her, which was the smouldering indignation she still felt against mather. thus to threaten, thus to dare her, thus to set himself up as judge! she waited impatiently for ellis to come. chapter xxiv bringing about an understanding beth was much disappointed that evening; it was saturday, yet jim did not come to dinner. she wished for him especially as a relief from the irritation of ellis's presence; she longed for jim as the meal progressed, for her father was very complacent to ellis, and it troubled her. but ellis was a greater cause of distress, as he spoke more than usual, and more directly at judith. they were talking of politics, he and the colonel. municipal affairs, judith put in; what was the prospect in them? "a fight," answered ellis, "and with the man i least like as my opponent: your friend, george mather. i expect he will be the reform candidate for mayor--it is too bad!" "why?" asked beth. "because," he answered, turning to her, "i should like to be friends with him. if he and i could agree, nothing could stand before us. he is the most energetic and far-sighted among the other side." "come over to him, then," said beth bluntly. he smiled at her. "i see that you think as mather does. it's very natural. but i have not only the misfortune to be with--well, let's say the commoner people, but i also believe as they believe, and act as i do from conviction. nothing would give me greater pleasure, miss blanchard, than to see things as you do, and to set myself, as i believe mr. mather conscientiously does, against progress. there would be great personal advantage to me in it." "mr. ellis means," explained the colonel, "that the defensive is always the easiest side to fight on." "more than that," added ellis. "the other side in this quarrel is the respectable one. positively, i am almost disreputable." he paused for her comment; beth smiled with constraint, amazed at his boldness. "outwardly, you mean," said judith. "and only outwardly, i trust," he responded. "there are underlying principles governing my actions (he was speaking to beth again, after turning to judith for a single moment) which unfortunately do not appear. i expect to be misunderstood by your friends." "always?" asked beth. "are not the rest of us to comprehend you some day, mr. ellis?" "let me show you," he said, "how to comprehend me now." he leaned toward her, smiling; for the first time beth felt a magnetic quality in his glance, but it was reptilian and unpleasant. he told her of his outlook on the future; he grated on her, yet he impressed her, for even with opponents such as ellis she was reasonable. but she felt a fundamental falsity, felt it but could not expose it; it was instinct alone that taught her suspicion of his unanswerable words. for no logic could meet them; they were wisdom itself. of one thing, however, beth felt certain: that they were not directed at her but at judith. and judith responded. when ellis stopped speaking, she took up the word; with real earnestness she explained, added, and finally approved. the plan was wise, far-reaching--oh, thought beth, if but mather, and not ellis, had been the man to originate it! then beth started: had she not once heard that mather had made plans, perhaps just such as these, at which the older heads had wondered? although on mere conjecture, she took up the matter as boldly as she could. "i did not know, mr. ellis, that you were such an engineer." "i am only a promoter," he answered. "you will find the opposition newspapers calling me that. but i often handle large matters, and that is how i came on the idea." "you mean you found it?" she asked. "did you not originate it?" ellis flushed and hesitated; judith spoke quickly. "i don't suppose anything in the world is so original that it hasn't been proposed before. mr. ellis, beth, is profiting by the experience of other cities--aren't you?" and judith turned to him. gratified, he assented. beth saw the glance of understanding that passed between them; turning to her father, she saw him watching judith with satisfaction. she felt almost faint: how was the world going so wrong that this could happen? nothing was left for beth but to declare, as brightly as she could--yet judith felt the distress in her voice--that this was all so new that she must think it over. after that she sat silent. but judith, having expressed her zeal in ellis's cause, was more than ever pleased with herself and with him. it struck her particularly that he was generous toward mather, that it was kind of ellis to praise him and desire him as an ally, and that, contrasting with mather's denunciation of his rival, ellis showed the finer character. she was about to question him again when the servant brought a note and laid it at her plate. "the messenger asked me to deliver it to you at once, miss judith." judith took it up; it was addressed in mather's hand. her instant impulse to destroy it he had foreseen, for in the corner of the envelope he had written "not personal." so, still flushing with the indignation she had first felt, she opened the envelope and took out the note. it was written on the paper of the university club. "_my dear judith_: i must find jim wayne, but beth must not know. trusting absolutely to your secrecy, i give my reasons. matters have been mismanaged at the mill; and just now, calling on mrs. wayne, i found her in despair over the disappearance of her securities. i fear that jim has been speculating, and i am sure he is avoiding me, but i must find him before he takes it into his head to leave the city, for perhaps i can set matters right. if he comes to your house, will you immediately telephone me at the club? i am yours in great haste, george mather." judith was not one to be disturbed by sudden news, bad or good; she took this calmly. but as she sat, still looking at the letter, its meaning began to come upon her. jim had been with ellis that afternoon, had had some previous understanding with him, had almost accused him. jim had fled at mather's coming, leaving unsaid more of those reproaches and demands with which he had showered ellis. his very words came back to her: "who gave me the idea? who told me what to do?" then she remembered ellis's cold remark: "wayne, you have no claim upon me." not understanding why, judith began to tremble, and her hands grew cold. it was as if her instinct outstripped her mind and gave warning of what was coming. slowly, sitting there in her place and looking straight before her, she began to unravel the puzzle. ellis looked at her once, curiously; then beth, seeing the glance and noting judith's absorption, took her place in the conversation. judith thought on. if jim had speculated, had ellis known? had ellis led him into it? once in, did ellis refuse to help him? she recalled what mather had said of ellis discarding his tools. but how could jim be of use to him, except--yes!--as a handle, a hold on her through beth! and was this ellis's method of bringing jim into his power? she heard again the boy's despairing words: "who gave me the idea?" she looked at ellis: what was this wild suspicion? could it be true? beth, not knowing what else to speak about, had made him talk of the suggested strike. ellis had laughed about it. there would be no strike. "why," he was saying as judith looked at him, "the air seems charged with strike-talk sometimes, yet nothing comes of it. now that i think of it," and he paused to laugh, "a man tried blackmail on me this afternoon. he was a fellow i once had to do with when we were both younger, a crank if ever there was one. he has ideas of the rights of the workingman, yet he is far from honest. he came to me with the statement that he could bring on the strike if he wished--with his socialistic talk, you understand. he wished me to pay him to keep from haranguing my men." "did you do it?" judith suddenly demanded. "no, no," he said lightly. "a mere agitator, he could do no harm." "an agitator?" asked beth, interested. "why, there was such a man at george's mill this summer. don't you remember, judith. he tried to bring about a strike there. i wonder if it was the same man, mr. ellis. was his name stock?" judith had watched steadily. at beth's first words ellis had changed, hardened, made his face stone. but at the name--did he not control a start? yet he answered with indifference. "oh, no. there are many such fellows. it is quite another man." but he glanced at judith, and though he did it quietly and steadily, as once he had described his habit to be, she recalled the conversation which she had overheard, and understood it all. she _had_ known the voice, the husky tones which became harsh when raised. she remembered the words, the chebasset job for which money had been promised, yet which had failed. and ellis had paid--had paid! the meanness, the whole base plot, was revealed to her. the servant had come with the dessert, but judith rose from her chair; her face was white. "i cannot eat any more," she said. "you must excuse me." "is anything----" began her father. "i must go," she said, and went into the parlour, wishing only to be alone and think, to despise herself at leisure. ellis had revealed not only himself, but also her blind folly. she cast herself upon the sofa and put her face in her hands. then she heard his footsteps; he had followed. he crossed the room; she felt him sit beside her, and she heard his voice. he spoke gently. "miss judith--judith!" he took her hand to draw it from her face. his touch was a disgrace, but she yielded her hand to his; she wished his fingers might burn like fire, to brand her punishment. writhing in spirit as she felt herself unclean, for very scorn would not resist him. "judith," he repeated, his hope rising, "you are not ill?" "no." she turned and looked upon him resolutely; she would see once more this man whom she had admired. "if anything i have said," he went on, "if i have--oh, did it come over you then so strongly that you left the table? did you feel that we are made for each other?" she withdrew her hand quickly. "made for each other!" his face changed, the eagerness was checked, and he said the conventional words, conventionally: "i love you." she looked into him: how small he was! how cold his voice, which should have been impassioned! "love me?" she asked. "you love crooked ways!" slowly he rose. "what is this?" he asked. "i so felt our--sympathy, that i left the table? oh, yes, yes!" scorn overcame her; again she hid her face. oh, but to die from the strength of this hatred of herself! she heard him walk away; then he returned and stood before her. "i do not understand you," he said. "i have been foolish, perhaps, but i told the truth. i do feel that we are made for each other. will you marry me?" her contempt of him left her; she loathed only herself. all through this acquaintance he had been his natural man; it was she who had deceived herself. for that she could not punish him. "i cannot marry you," she answered. his effort at self-control was visible, but it succeeded. "i beg," he said, "that you will give me time. if i have been hasty----" "no," she said, rising and facing him. "mr. ellis, i acknowledge that i have treated you badly; i am as sorry as i can be. can i say more than that? yes, i beg you to forgive me. but i can never marry you." he pressed his lips firmly together; his brows contracted, and he looked at her out of those narrow eyes which could control his subordinates or threaten his opponents. but she met him with sorrow, not defiance, and he could not understand. "what has happened?" he cried. "yesterday--this very day----" "you were sure of me?" she asked. "rightly, mr. ellis. but now it is too late." "what is it, then? has that fellow mather----?" "yourself only," she interrupted. "i beg you to leave me." he looked at her a moment longer; then he left the room. but not the house: she heard him go to the dining-room and speak to her father. then beth came into the parlour quickly; she was agitated. "judith----" "not now, beth," and beth left her again. there was a pause, and then her father came; she heard his dragging step. when he appeared he showed the last shreds of his natural feeling--shame that at ellis's order he should come to advise his child. "judith," he began, "mr. ellis tells me that--that you----" "i have declined to marry him," she said. "why is this?" he asked. "it has seemed so plain that you would take him." judith hung her head. had it then been so plain? "i have changed." "come," said the colonel with an attempt at briskness. "you can't mean this. there's nothing against ellis that i can see." "nothing?" she asked. "and you say that, father? what will our friends say." "girls marry out of their station," he urged uneasily. "we can bring him in, judith." "father," she demanded, "what hold has he on you, to make you say this?" "hold?" he asked. "my dear child, there is nothing of the sort." but when the truth was thrust directly at him the colonel was a poor actor. "there is something between you," judith said. "i have come to see mr. ellis in a different light," he explained. "that is all there is to it." "father," cried judith, "tell me!" he turned away from her and began to walk up and down, but she held his sleeve and stopped him. "father!" she beseeched. he tried to meet her eye, and failed; he looked at the carpet and shifted his feet. but still he felt her insistent grasp upon his arm, and at last he spoke huskily. "judith, i owe him money." "oh!" she gasped, and fell away from him. "father, what have you done?" yet feeling that she had not even the right to reproach him, she said no more. as she stood with bowed head, he took courage. "you see," he said, "why it must be." "must be?" she demanded. "oh, father, does that make it inevitable?" "judith," he asked her, startled. "do you mean that you--you won't?" "how much do you owe him?" she questioned with energy. "some thousands." "well," she said, "what are four or five thousand? we can sell the house and live differently." he looked his alarm. "it is more than five," he said. "nearer ten thousand." "the house is worth more than that," she responded. "but to leave this place?" he objected. "judith, this is absurd, unreasonable! where could we go?" "go anywhere!" she answered. "live as we must. father, you can work." "work?" he gasped. "i--work?" "then i will support you. beth and i." "no, no!" he said in despair. "i couldn't stand it; i couldn't exist. at my age; think of that!" and his tone turned to pleading. she heard a footstep at the threshold, and there was ellis. he entered and spoke to her. "i couldn't wait. miss blanchard, has not your father persuaded you?" she turned upon him with flaming eye. "how did you first persuade him? did you offer to release his debt?" "so," he snarled to the colonel, "you have told!" the colonel stepped away from the venomous gleam of his teeth. "she made me," he stammered. "made you!" "there is no advantage in discussing this, mr. ellis," said judith. "do not count it against me," he urged quickly. "your father came to me of himself, asking for help. i did it for you." "you would have served me better by refusing. but mr. ellis, the money shall be paid." "paid with money?" he asked. with clenched hands he turned upon the colonel. "oh, you fool!" "father!" cried judith, and stepped between them to restrain the burst of military wrath which should cast ellis from the house. but to her amazement her father stood motionless, almost cringing. then first she recognised the slow degeneration which in all these years had been going on beneath the unchanged exterior. "father!" she said again, but now in pity, and took her place at his side. she felt, as he made a little movement toward her, his gratitude for the protection--another revelation of his loss of manliness. "mr. ellis, there is nothing further to say." "oh, you have led me on to this!" he cried. "was it put up between you? such a way to gain money!" instinctively she took her father's arm, to hold him; again he proved, by his passivity, that his spirit was all gone. "will you leave us?" she asked coldly. "oh!" ellis cried, shaking with anger and carried away. "you put it on well! because i am not one of you, you tricked me, then? and was it mather all the time? but my turn is coming!" he would have said more, but she left her father and went toward the door. then he saw how hopelessly he was cutting himself off from her. "oh, forgive me--judith! i am frantic." but she turned at the door, and standing like an angry goddess, pointed into the hallway. "go!" she commanded. "miss blanchard!" he exclaimed in consternation. "go!" his hold on her was gone forever; he saw it, and his venom returned. he went swiftly to her father; she did not hear the words that ellis hissed. "i have bought up the mortgages on this house; you know they are long overdue. monday i turn you out!" with delight he saw the colonel flinch, but by no effort of resolution could ellis meet the glance of the haughty figure at the door. yet as he passed her judith quailed and shivered, for by the same commanding gesture she had sent mather from the house. chapter xxv the colonel gives up his luxuries the colonel pulled himself together. ellis was gone, and relieved from that oppressive influence blanchard held up his head. he tried to smile, and found that he succeeded fairly well. he tested his voice; it came as usual, sonorously. "thank heaven!" he said, "the fellow's gone." "father," answered judith, "you and i have both done wrong." he waved his hand impatiently; would her confounded straightforwardness not let him forget? "never mind." "never mind?" she repeated. "father, we can't put this aside for a single minute. we must plan at once what shall be done." "you always were fiery," he said indulgently. "well, go ahead." "we need beth," and judith went to call her in. beth came, white with apprehension, having heard tones but not words, and feeling rather than knowing that there was trouble. she sought to learn all from one question. "where is mr. ellis?" "gone," answered judith. "he will not come here again." "oh," she cried, "i am glad. then why so grave?" "mr. ellis," her sister said, "has gone away very angry, and father owes him money." then she looked upon the colonel with sudden suspicion. "father, you said _about_ ten thousand dollars. was it more?" "my dear child," he protested, "this matter is not so great as you suppose. and i cannot tell you all of my affairs." "father," she returned, "for my sake, if not for yours, mr. ellis should be paid at once." he rebuked her. "i know how to keep our honour clean. mr. ellis shall be paid at once." "you promise that, sir?" "i do." "and will it mean that we must sell the house?" "it will." the colonel always excelled in the delivery of monosyllables. "sell the house?" gasped beth. "come here, dear," said judith, and drew her to her side. "beth, you have plenty of courage, i know." "i hope so." pleased by the unusual caress, beth controlled her trembling. "what are you planning, judith?" "we must entirely change our way of life." judith looked to her father for confirmation; he nodded. "are you willing to work, beth?" "i am willing," was the confident answer. "father," judith asked, "how much will the house bring?" "come here," he answered. "let me tell you what we must do." he went to the sofa; they followed. beth took the place he indicated at his side; judith sat in a chair. the colonel, still smiling, looked on them paternally, and began to depict in words his ready imaginings. "when the house is sold and the debt is paid," he said, "we shall have left--let me see, perhaps twenty thousand dollars. i don't need to explain," he interrupted himself to say, "that had not other resources previously failed me--mismanagements and losses, dears, not from my fault--i should never have turned to mr. ellis for assistance. no, no; of course you understand that. therefore, the house is our only source of capital. well, twenty thousand left: that would mean perhaps a thousand dollars a year to house and feed and clothe us. yes, perhaps a thousand." the colonel clung to the _perhaps_; it was covering a lie, several lies. "you see, we shall really be in difficulties." "yes," murmured beth. the colonel warmed to his task. "now, you are both young; on the other hand i am not old, and i am a soldier. the habit of courage, girls, i learned in my youth. so we are well equipped. but, only a thousand dollars! that will pay rent; perhaps it will pay for food. and our clothes, our little knick-knacks, we must earn for ourselves." "shall we take an apartment?" asked beth, for judith remained silent, watching her father intently. "one of the new ones they have been putting up?" "ah, no," he said kindly. "they cost five hundred a year, my child. this must be something of an emigration, beth: this quarter of the town is no longer for us. but there are very respectable, quiet neighbourhoods where we can go; and even houses, not apartments, that we can rent. does that dismay you?" beth pressed his hand. "no, father, no!" he avoided judith's steady look, and smoothed beth's hair. "servants--i don't think we can afford them. one of you two must do the housework. which shall it be?" "i!" beth answered promptly. "cooking, dishwashing, sweeping," he warned her. "are you really willing?" "if you will be patient with my mistakes." "my dear little girl, i am proud of you. judith, is she not fine?" but still he kept his eyes upon the pleased and blushing beth. "and we two others will earn the money." "i am sorry," responded beth. then she brightened. "but, father, need it be so bad as this? you know so much of affairs; you can command a good salary at once." "remember," he said, "that i have failed. the world has gone against me. no one will have use for me. a clerk or a bank messenger--that is the most i can look to be." "no, no!" cried beth, shocked. "it is natural," he said with resignation. "and perhaps judith, with her talents and her typewriter, before long will be supporting all three of us." for the first time judith heard his natural tone, in this reminder of his many little flings. "and we will all economise!" "it will not be hard," beth said. "no," was the paternal response, "because we shall be doing it together. think--some little four-room cottage. perhaps not all the modern improvements, but never mind. we leave you early in the morning, judith and i; we take the crowded electrics with all the other people going to their work. judith snatches a few minutes to go to a bargain sale; i, at a ready-made-clothing store, fit myself to a twelve-dollar suit. then we work hard all day, we three--and perhaps it will be hardest for you, beth, to be so much alone. but at night we meet over the simple meal you have prepared, and go early to bed, fatigued by our day." even beth saw how far this was from the colonel's nature. "father, it will be hardest for you." "no worse," he replied, "than the wilderness campaign. never you fret, dear; i can resign my luxuries. and if our friends over here sometimes speak of us with pity, we shall not meet them often enough to feel hurt when they do not recognise us in our cheap clothes." "father," cried beth. "our friends will stand by us. you shall see!" "they will patronise us," he answered. "shall we care for that? especially judith." and he turned to her at last. "i can stand anything," she replied. "i am glad that you have foreseen all this, father." "did you doubt me?" he asked. he rose, and the girls rose with him. "but now i must go to my room; i must make a beginning on my new life. good-night, beth. kiss me. kiss me, judith. dears," he said, gazing on them affectionately, "we have had little dissensions from time to time, but i promise never to quarrel with you more. no, don't reply; i know you will be as forbearing toward me. good-night; i am going to my study." he went to the door, and paused a moment. "judith, did you really doubt me? you shall see what i can do." waving them a final good-night, he was gone. he climbed the stair briskly at first; then his step became slower, and his head bowed. in his study he sank into a chair and passed his hand across his forehead, where the perspiration had already started out. that had been an effort, but it was over, and now----! he was sitting alone in this little room; like shadows his thoughts closed in on him. no, he had not lied; he had said _perhaps_. but the house was mortgaged to its full value, ellis held the mortgages, and the interest was long overdue. the furniture was pledged. monday, owning nothing but the clothes on his back, he would be turned into the street. judith had failed him; everything had failed him. life, so pleasant, had played him false at last; there was no outlook any more. slowly, without spirit, consumed with self-pity, he took pen and paper and began to write. how little there was to say! the letter was finished all too soon. in the parlour the two girls sat and spoke together. "how brave of father!" beth said. judith answered, "i never saw him less like himself." "he is a new man," beth explained. "he is setting us an example. we must work, and be a credit to him." judith's energy returned. she would work, she said. the typewriter was her own; it was paid for. she would apply herself to master it. were they still rich, even then she would go to work. she must occupy herself, and forget. and as for beth, before long jim would come and claim her. then judith remembered mather's note, and the trouble deepened. if jim had gone wrong, how would beth, innocent beth, bear that? she stole a glance at her sister. beth was listening. "father, is that you?" she called. the colonel's voice answered from the hall. "i just came down for something." they heard him go up-stairs again. "he came down very quietly," said beth. "i heard him in the back parlour. poor father! he is very brave." then both sat silent, thinking. "we have good blood," said judith at last with a tremor of pride in her voice. "we will show we are not afraid of what may happen." "yes," beth answered. "--hush, what was that?" "i heard nothing," judith said. beth's eyes grew larger as she sat rigid. "it was a groan," she whispered. "listen!" then they both heard it, unmistakable, coming from the floor above. they started up, but stood in fear, questioning each other with their eyes. again it came, but feebler, like a deep sigh. "father!" cried judith, and hastened to the stairs. up they hurried; they were breathless when they reached the study door. there they halted, transfixed. the colonel had finished his letter; it lay on the desk by his side. he reclined in the easy-chair as if asleep, but from his breast stood out the handle of the japanese knife. chapter xxvi in which judge harmon enters the story judith stood waiting at the telephone; at the club the waiter had gone to fetch mather. how slow he was in coming! how tired she felt! the wires sang in her ears; she heard faint voices speaking indistinctly; she had a dull consciousness of surrounding space, of connection with far-off spheres, out of which those voices rose, whispered, almost became articulate, then died away to let the humming of the spheres begin again. then some man said loud and briskly: "hello!" "i am using the line," said judith. the man begged her pardon and drifted across the styx, from whose dim territory a tinkling voice spoke complainingly for a while, then faded away. the buzzing in the wires increased the confusion in her head, and judith, very, very weary, found herself clinging to the instrument lest she should fall. with a strong effort she regained her self-control. then she heard in the telephone sounds as of distant heavy strokes of metal; they grew louder, then the wire clicked. mather spoke: "hello!" "oh, george!" she gasped. his voice was calm, quiet, perfectly modulated, as if he stood there at her side. she released her hold on the instrument; with him talking so to her she could stand alone. "that is you, judith? jim is there?" "jim?" she had forgotten him. "oh, no." "then can i do anything for you?" "something has happened here," she said, "to--to father. he left a letter addressed to you and mr. pease." "_left_ a letter?" she heard the change in his voice. "tell no one, please," she begged. "we telephoned for mr. pease and learned that he is at judge harmon's; beth has gone there for him. can you come? at once, george?" "instantly," he answered. "that is all?" "all. good-bye." she heard him hang up his receiver. in her turn she left the telephone, and stronger in the knowledge that he was coming she began to pace the room. pease too was coming; beth would bring him soon. but pease, who had started for the judge's, had turned aside at the foot of the steps when he saw ellis waiting in the vestibule. pease, telling himself that he could return, had gone away half an hour before, and all who had entered the harmon house that evening were ellis and jim wayne. jim had come first--a wild, dishevelled jim. he had wandered a good deal that day, after first leaving chebasset in the morning and next spending much time at a ticker. he had not been home; he had not eaten, he had given mather the slip a couple of times, and his moods had varied from fear to bold resolution, and then to sullen despair. but since in the light fluids of his nature hope easily beat up its accustomed surface-froth, he arrived at the harmons' in a more cheerful mood, looking for the coming of ellis to relieve him of the consequences of his folly. when mrs. harmon had drawn the portieres, and had begun to tell him how untidy he was, he explained matters with a laugh. "been sitting over my accounts," he said. "forgot to brush my hair, did i? here's a mirror; just look away a moment, mrs. harmon, please, while i----" he began to arrange his hair with his fingers. but she watched him. "i can't lose a chance to see a man prink," she said. "tell me about the accounts, mr. wayne." "upon my word," he cried, "there's one item i forgot to put down! just like me; and so important, too!" "what is it?" she inquired. "the item, or the cost?" "both. tell me." he set a condition. "one or the other, choose. wait!" he went to his overcoat, which he had flung upon a chair, and drew a box from the pocket. "now choose," he directed, holding up the box. "oh," she pouted, "that is one of price's boxes. i can't know the cost if i am to see what you've bought. you'll show it to me, won't you?" "you would like to see it?" "of course." "then open it," he said, giving her the box. "it's for you." "for me?" and she opened the little case. "oh, mr. wayne, a locket! what good taste you have--oh, and i didn't see the chain!" then she regarded him reproachfully. "now, jim, you know you really mustn't." "always call me jim!" he directed. "why mustn't i?" "because you can't afford it." "i can!" he asserted. "at least, i could when i bought it. i was three thousand to the good then." "indeed?" she thought, "and what happened later?" deciding that possession was worth securing, she snapped the chain around her neck. "and so you have had a very lucky day?" "well," explained jim, "there was a steady rise at first. but then there came a couple of flurries, and the bottom dropped out of everything i held." "and you lost much?" "no, no," he said quickly. "i was watching; i got out at once. i'm not so very badly off, and ellis said he'd help me straighten matters. he's coming here this evening." she was much relieved, but covered her feeling by coquetting. "so that is all you came here for?" "that isn't fair," cried jim. "didn't i bring the locket? now mrs. harmon!" he tried to take her hand. after some resistance on her part, he succeeded. holding that plump and somewhat large assembly of digits, from which no manicurist had as yet been able to remove the fresh bright pink reminding of its earlier uses (for mrs. harmon had once done her sewing and washed her own clothes)--holding that hand, jim felt more agitation than when he first held beth's. and though he looked into wide-open eyes, which met his without a tremor of their lids or a suggestion of a downward glance, jim was more thrilled than by the sweet confusion beth so oft discovered, even to her accepted lover. this was rare; it quickened his blood; he was preparing to taste the ruby of those lips, when into his consciousness came the clang of the door-bell, which was of the good old-fashioned kind. before the noise had well begun, mrs. harmon had withdrawn her hand and placed a chair between herself and her admirer, whose ardent glance had proclaimed his intention with such distinctness that (combined with the door-bell) it had alarmed her modesty. and although jim, calculating that the servant could not reach the door for half a minute, pursued and begged her not to be so cruel, she laughed at him and maintained her distance until in the hall were heard the rustle of the maid's skirts and then the opening of the front door. jim was so disgusted that even the appearance of ellis did not at first recall him to a willing obedience of the laws of propriety. but when ellis, from an abrupt entrance, as abruptly halted and fixed him with a scowl, jim came back to himself. "oh," said ellis, "i had forgot you." "i--i don't want to trouble you, mr. ellis," replied jim. "but you'd like some four, five, six thousand to help you out, hey? that's what you've been waiting here for?" "you said you'd help me, sir." ellis turned his unchanged scowl on mrs. harmon. "better drop him, lydia," he said. "he's an eternal fool." "stephen," she cried indignantly, "have you lost money, too? more than he has, i'm sure." he sneered, and she added, "something's gone wrong with you, then, to make you so rude." his frown became blacker still; he had been walking the streets, and came here in the hope of distraction only to be reminded of judith. "hold your tongue, lydia," he said roughly. then he surveyed jim once more. "you little fool, get out of your scrape by yourself!" grasping his hat as if he would crush its brim, he turned to go. "don't come again, stephen," she flung after him, "until you've found your temper." yet the last glimpse of ellis, as he departed, gave distress to poor jim. "why," he said helplessly, as the outer door closed. "why, mrs. harmon, he--he said he'd help me!" but such common preoccupations as money-difficulties were, at this moment, foreign to mrs. harmon's mood. jim had stirred her blood, she was glad that ellis had gone. now she moved nearer to the young man, so that the space between them was free. "never mind," she said lightly. "never mind?" repeated jim. "but mrs. harmon, i've----" no, he couldn't tell her. yet what should he do? "leave business for the daytime," she said. "forget the mill; forget the office." she came nearer still. jim hung his head. mather was after him surely; and what could he say to his mother? "stephen will come round," said mrs. harmon. "leave him to me." "oh," cried jim, "you will help me? just a little, mrs. harmon?" "why should i?" she asked archly. she was very close now, and was looking in his eyes. "for our friendship," he answered. "friendship!" she repeated. her tone roused him; he looked, and her glance kindled his. "only friendship?" she asked softly. "oh!" he breathed, and caught her in his arms. again came the cursed interruption of the jangling door-bell. "you shall not go!" he said, holding her fast. she murmured, "i do not wish to." they stood motionless, and heard the servant pass through the hall and open the front door. they listened, ready to spring apart. "the judge?" the servant asked. "yes, in his study. this way." again the footsteps and the rustling skirt passed the door. the two in the parlour waited until the door of the judge's study opened and shut. then jim lowered his head upon the one that nestled at his shoulder. "at last!" he whispered. and their lips met. but beth was in the judge's study. behind his table sat the old man--no, not so very old, in years only sixty, but he carried them ill. a life of labour among books, a disappointment in his wife, made him seem ten years older than he was. the judge never exercised, was sometimes short of breath and dizzy, but was at all times scornful of the wisdom of doctors. his face was naturally stern, yet a smile came on it when he saw beth. he rose, adjusted a different pair of glasses, and then saw the distress on her countenance. "why, beth!" he exclaimed. "is anything wrong?" "is mr. pease not here?" she asked in return. "pease? no, he has not been here." "his cousin said," explained beth, "that he was coming here. and so i came at once, since you have no telephone. father--oh, judge harmon, my father has killed himself!" the judge turned white. "killed?" he put his hand to his breast. "my dear child! my poor beth! killed himself? oh, i am so sorry!" "there is nothing to do," said beth with admirable calmness. "but he left a letter directed to mr. mather and mr. pease." "mr. pease is not here," the judge repeated, much distressed. "let me bring you home again.--but your mr. wayne was here earlier. perhaps he is still in the parlour with my wife." "jim here?" cried beth, springing to the door. "oh, i hope he is!" hastily she left the study, sped along the hall, and parted the parlour curtains. there were jim and mrs. harmon, in the growing fierceness of their first embrace. beth saw how eagerly they strained together, and heard their panting breaths. she stood still and made no sound, but her senses noted everything: jim's hand that pressed on mrs. harmon's shoulder, her closed eyes, her hands linked behind his neck--and his sudden movement as he shifted his arm, only to press her closer. and still that clinging kiss continued, ecstatic, terrible. beth could not move, could scarcely breathe, until behind her rose the judge's cracked and horror-stricken voice. "lydia!" hurriedly they disengaged and stood apart--moist lips, hot cheeks, and burning eyes still giving evidence of their passion. then mrs. harmon dropped her face into her hands and turned away, but jim gazed with mounting shame into the eyes that met his--met while yet they showed beth's detestation of him. and the judge stood quiet, his hand pressed to his breast, his breath stopped, his head confused with the noises that roared in his ears. at last beth moved. slowly she put her hands together; her eyes showed more of indignation, less of loathing. she drew her hands apart and held out to him the right--not with fingers upward, beckoning, but palm downward, fingers closed together. then she opened them. the golden circlet fell, its diamond flashing; it bounded on the rug, and rolled; it stopped at mrs. harmon's feet. she, looking downward through her fingers, wondering at the silence, saw, and started away with a cry. then beth turned her back on jim, and went away. the old judge followed, dazed, and the curtains fell behind them. chapter xxvii in which judge harmon leaves the story the judge opened the street-door for beth, and seemed to be preparing to follow her out. in spite of all she had gone through, perhaps because of it, her mind was alive to little things, and she saw that he was dazed. "you're not coming with me, sir? and without your coat?" "i was going with you, was i not?" he asked. "but i--i've forgotten. can you find your way alone?" "oh, yes," she said. "you must not come. go in, sir." as if mechanically, he obeyed her, and shut the door. beth went down the steps. but the judge seemed still confused. slowly, very slowly he entered the hall. he went to the great chair that stood opposite the parlour door, and sat in it. his breath still came with difficulty, his head was buzzing; he could not remember what had happened. then, raising his head, he looked through the portieres, which he and beth had parted slightly, into the parlour. he saw, he remembered, and his heart gave a great leap in his breast. so long as they heard voices at the door, mrs. harmon and jim had stood listening. but when the indistinct tones ceased, and the door shut, they looked at each other. "they've both gone!" jim said. but they listened a moment longer. the slow footsteps of the judge, as he made his way over the heavy rugs, were inaudible. jim held his hands out to her again, but she pointed to the ring upon the floor. "trouble for you!" he picked up the ring. "trouble for both of us," he responded gloomily. "worst for you," she replied. "what shall you do?" "i don't know." "oh!" and she stamped her foot. "how stupid of us! it was all, at last, just as we wished it. it could have gone on, nobody knowing. now--oh, i am furious!" "you mean," he asked, "that you would have let it go on as we were?" "yes." "meeting only once in a while?" "of course!" "and that would have satisfied you?" "satisfied? no, jim. but that would be all we could have." "then i am glad we were seen!" he cried. "i couldn't have gone on that way. now we shall have to act." "act? what do you mean?" "this," answered jim. "everything has got to stop for me, anyway. i'm--i'm in trouble. ellis----" and he stopped to curse. "don't, don't!" she begged him. "explain; i don't understand." "he led me into it," said jim. "he suggested it all: how i could take the money they send to the mill every saturday for the men's pay, how i could get my mother's power of attorney, and use her securities. i never should have thought of it but for him--never!" "you mean," asked mrs. harmon, "that you have done those things?" "yes," he replied. "i wanted to please you, to give you things, and have money." she turned partly away from him, and stood looking down. jim came to her side. "but we don't care, do we, lydia?" he put his hands on her shoulders. she moved away quickly. "what do you mean?" "ellis won't help me. mather is after me. i've got to go away--go away this very night. lydia, come with me!" "mr. wayne," she began slowly. "no; call me jim!" "you poor jim, then. i can't do this." "why?" he stammered. "i thought you loved me?" "so i do. so i will, if you'll stay here and let things go on as they were." "haven't i shown you i can't?" "it can be hushed up." "no, no!" he cried in despair. "and i can't face people; everybody will know. lydia, come with me!" he neared her again, stretching out his arms; as she sought to avoid him, he strode to her side and caught her. "come, come! i can't give you up." he crushed her to him and began kissing her eagerly. but she resisted with sudden energy. "let me go! shall i call the servants?" he released her in astonishment; angrily she moved away from him, smoothing her dress. "i believe you're a fool after all, as mr. ellis said." "lydia!" "i am mrs. harmon," she returned. "if you won't make a fight for yourself, you're not the man i thought you. go away, then, but not with me." "then you don't love me?" "boy!" she said, growing scornful. "love? what is love but convenience?" "oh," he cried, "come! you must come with me. see, i have money. seven, eight hundred, i think. that will last a long time. we can go somewhere; i can get work; no one will find us." "and that," she asked, "is all you offer? eight hundred dollars, and a life in hiding!" he began to understand, this poor jim, but it was too much to grasp all at once. "you're fooling me, aren't you? don't; i can't bear it. say you'll come with me!" beseeching her with open arms, he went toward her so eagerly that to avoid him she slipped around the table and went to the door. then as she looked back at him, awkwardly pursuing, she saw him as she had never seen him before. he had rumpled his hair again: none but a manly head looks well when mussed. his eyes were bloodshot, his mouth open; she turned away in disgust, and looked into the hallway to measure her retreat. there she saw her husband sitting, upright in his chair. with a sudden movement she threw the curtains wide apart and revealed him to jim. "see," she said. "i have a protector. now will you leave me?" a protector! jim, at first startled, saw the open mouth, the glazing eyes. he pointed, gasping; she saw and was frightened. in three steps she was at her husband's side; she grasped his arm. he was dead! then she recovered herself. the doctor had said this might happen. "he is--is----" hesitated jim. "oh, come back here; shut it out!" "i shall call the servants," she answered. "you had better go." "go? and you are free! lydia," he cried in despair, "for the last time, come with me!" cold and steady, she returned the proper response. "and you ask me that in his dead presence! free, when his death claims my duty to him? go with you, when i should stay and mourn him?" had she opened her breast and shown him a heart of stone, she could not better have revealed her nature. it was to jim as if the earth had yawned before his feet, showing rottenness beneath its flowers. that eye of ice, that hard mouth, those blasphemous words! jim did not know, he never could remember, how he got himself from the house. he fled by night from the pursuit that never was to be. taking the new york train, he lay in his berth, thinking, dozing, thinking again, while the train sped through the darkness. he slept and dreamed of burning kisses; he woke to feel the swaying of the car, to hear the whistle scream, or, shutting out all other sounds, to strain his ears for noises close at hand--the rustling of the curtains or the soft footfall of the porter. he slept again, and from a nightmare in which a serpent coiled about him, he came to himself in a quiet station, where steam hissed steadily, where hurrying steps resounded, where trucks rumbled by, and voices were heard giving orders. he looked from his berth along the curtained aisle--what misery besides his own was hiding behind those hangings? then he dozed again with the motion of the train, and saw beth, far removed and wonderfully pure, looking down on him with horror; his dream changed and mrs. harmon stood at his side, leading a walking corpse. and then he started from sleep with a smothered shriek, and with his thoughts urged the train to go faster, faster away from beth, from that temptress, from the friends he had betrayed and the mother whom he had robbed. chapter xxviii judith binds herself judith was alone, waiting for mather, and wrestling with the question which at the discovery of her father's body had rushed upon her. was his death her fault? had she accepted ellis, or had she recalled her refusal when her father begged her, the colonel would now be living. she might have guessed the desperate resolve that he had taken. what would have been her duty, had she understood? or what should she have done, had he appealed to her? and not understanding, not having foreseen, how much was her fault? there was here a chance for speculation to drive a weaker woman wild. but judith had not the nature to yield to such a danger. essentially combative, naturally active, her habit was to put the past behind, accept the present, and look the future in the face. this instinct stood by her now, and even though her shuddering mind still dwelt upon the catastrophe, something within her called her to stand up, control herself, look forward. and one more mental trait, which was in some respects the great defect in her character--namely her almost masculine fashion of judging herself and others--here stood her in good stead, and served her by showing her father's action in the proper light. though she perceived that she had led him into this entanglement, she saw more. the colonel had had not only his own but also his wife's fortune: where had the money gone? strong as were judith's grief and pity for him, abundantly as she acknowledged her part in his error, she could not fail to see how selfish had been his actions, how cowardly this desertion! but remembering her own great error, she could not blame. how deeply they had both been at fault! she began to sympathise with the colonel's mistakes, to understand him better, to wish that in their relations they had not been so aloof. he must have been many times in doubt, pain, the deepest of trouble, and she had never suspected. judith began to be stirred by more daughterly feelings than since childhood; her grief and pity grew stronger, unavailing regret seized her, and when george mather arrived he found her in tears. he had never imagined such a sight, nor had he met such sweet dignity as that with which, controlling herself, she rose and welcomed him. she told him of her father's death. mather had not admired the colonel; he was not surprised at such a weak end; and while she spoke all his senses dwelt on her--on the wonderful fresh charm, which, springing from the new humility, made more of a woman of her. stoically but stupidly he paced the room, remembering that he was not there to consider himself, but to do what he could for her. there were things which must be done; as gently as he could he reminded her of them, and going to the telephone called up the doctor and asked him to bring the medical examiner. and while mather did this, cursing himself that he could not console her, all the time a new sensation was occupying her--the comfort of having, for the first time in her life, a man to depend on. then beth arrived, with pease who had met her in the street--beth, wild of eye, the very foundations of her nature shocked, in one evening twice betrayed. the poor little thing still maintained a false composure, checked from time to time the tears that would spring, and fought with all her force against the thoughts which were ready to engulf her. she went straight to judith and rested at her side, feeling that there was strength, and that with george in the house, and with pease there, silent and steady, no more harm could come to her. judith sent the two men to her father's study, where they saw the evidence of his one resolute deed. they took the letter, the result of his only wise one. again in the parlour, they opened and read the letter together; their brows clouded as they read, and at the end their eyes met in a look of inquiry. "read it aloud," demanded judith. "i think we had better," said pease, and mather assented. and so the girls learned the full extent of their calamity, for with unusual brevity the colonel had written: "i have nothing left, not a stock nor a bond. the furniture is mortgaged, so is the house; ellis, through brokers i suppose, has bought me up completely and threatens to turn me out on monday. he can do it; besides, i owe him fifteen thousand dollars. the girls don't own anything but their clothes and knick-knacks, and judith's typewriter. "i don't see any way out of this, and i'm tired of thinking. you two are young and clever; i turn the problem over to you. "take care of my girls." and with these words the colonel had handed his burden over to others. tears sprang to beth's eyes as she understood. it was natural that even so soon his selfishness should force itself to notice. ah, if men could but guide themselves by the consideration of what will be thought of them after they are gone, how different would be their lives! not the religion man professes, nor even the love he actually bears, can teach him to overcome caprice or to sink himself in others. yet since it may be that the punishment after death is to see ourselves as others see us, let us not belabour the poor colonel with words, but leave him in that purgatory where the mirror of souls will teach self-understanding. judith was stunned. the real meaning of her father's statements came upon her like a blow, the room vanished from before her eyes, and she clutched the arm of the sofa where she sat, to keep from falling. the house mortgaged! the furniture pledged! and the great debt besides! the calamity overpowered her. "judith!" cried mather in alarm. she groped with her hands before her face and cleared the mist away. "it is nothing," she said. "i am--strong." "i hope," said pease, "that you will let mr. mather and me assume your father's trust." "tell me this," judith requested, trying to command her voice. "we have no property at all--none at all. but there is that debt to mr. ellis. what is my liability to him?" "nothing whatever," pease replied. "i do not understand," she said. "i--i am responsible. if the debt were small, i should wish to earn the money to pay it. and though it is large, i think i ought to try to do the same." "impossible!" cried pease. judith listened while he protested and explained, but the matter became no clearer. her own great fault had brought all this about: the debt was hers. she tried to make him comprehend. "i----" she said, and faltered. "there are things you do not know." "judith," began mather, "first let me understand, mr. ellis broke with your father?" "and with me," she added simply. "then let me ask what object he had in lending money to your father?" "oh, don't you see," she cried, "that only makes it worse? if i--led him on, if on my account father supposed----it all comes back to me. it's my fault, my fault!" she was almost wild. "but you did not know," he pointed out. "this debt cannot bind you." "it is all my fault," she repeated. "what does your sister think?" asked pease. "what would mr. wayne say?" he spoke with the hope of new influence; but beth dissolved in sudden tears, and holding out her hand, showed her finger bare of its ring and red with the rubbing which all this time she had been giving it, to remove even the mark of jim's pledge. "do not speak of him!" she sobbed. judith gathered her in her arms; the men walked into the next room. as judith sought to comfort unhappy beth she felt mounting in herself an unknown tenderness. in this crisis all selfishness was impossible, all worldliness was far from her thoughts. her heart spoke naturally in murmurings, softened the hand which gave the sweet caress, yet lent the strength that held her sister to her breast. it was a blessed minute for them both, for judith learned new kindness, and beth found, in place of a reserved sister, one who seemed to have a mother's gentleness. and yet their communion was brief, for the outer door--earlier left unlatched for beth's return--opened and then shut, steps were heard in the hall, and a voice said inquiringly, "colonel blanchard?" it was ellis! judith rose quickly to her feet, dashing the tears from her eyes; beth also rose, astonished and alarmed. scarcely had they made an attempt to compose themselves before ellis appeared in the doorway. he slowly entered. "excuse me," he said; "i did not ring because i was afraid you would not receive me. i came to beg your pardon." "it is granted," judith answered coldly. "i did not know what i was doing," he went on. "i--i hope we can go back to where we were. no," as she made a gesture of denial, "hear me out. i didn't mean what i said about the debt and mortgages--you know i did not. let the mortgages run. and two of your father's notes are overdue. look, i have written another to supersede them all, giving time for payment. let him sign this, and i destroy the others. will you tell him this?" he held out the note. her eyes glowed as she took it. "have you a pen?" he drew out a fountain pen and gave it to her. "what are you doing?" asked beth, alarmed. "i will sign it," judith answered. "you?" ellis cried. "my father is dead," she replied. quickly she went to the table and cleared a space at its corner. "judith!" protested beth. but judith's eyes were bright with excitement, and she did not hear. beth turned and sped into the adjoining room. astonished, yet holding himself quiet, ellis listened to the scratching of the pen, and watched judith's eager face as she signed the note. she gave it to him, with the pen. "there!" she said, in the tone of one who has fulfilled a duty. then mather entered, too late. ellis had torn the colonel's notes and handed them to judith. "what have you done?" mather cried. she faced him proudly. "i have assumed my father's debt." to pease, who had followed him, mather cast one look of impotence; then he strode to the promoter's side. "mr. ellis, give me the note!" but ellis put it in his pocket. "it is mine." "i will pledge myself for it," offered mather, "at what terms you please." "it is not for sale," said ellis doggedly. "i will bring cash for it on monday." "thank you," sneered ellis, "but i mean to keep it." "mr. ellis," mather cried, "on what terms will you part with the note?" "i will part with it," he replied, "only to miss blanchard herself, as you must admit is proper, and the terms i will arrange with her alone." he looked his defiance into mather's face. the tense and shaking figure of his rival towered above him, and pease started forward to prevent a blow. but mather controlled himself and pointed to the door. "go!" ellis bowed to the sisters. "good-night." no one made answer as he went away. * * * * * beth, exhausted, was asleep at last; judith sat by her side. the medical examiner had come and gone, her father lay in peace, and the house was quiet. downstairs mather was watching: he had offered to stay; beth had begged that he might. judith would not allow her thoughts to dwell on him, or on the comfort of his neighbourhood. she would not think of ellis, nor of those obligations, the extent of which she did not understand. of her father she did not dare to think except to promise to take his place toward beth, and to pay his debt even if the struggle should bring her to face the world's worst. yet no fear troubled her, for a new self, an awakening soul, was stirring within her, calling for contrition, self-examination, and for new resolves. musing and confessing her faults, judith went to the window and looked up at the stars; through them she looked into the unalterable and true. she had been wrong; she understood the falseness of her standards. then she saw more, and awe began to come over her as she perceived so much where once had appeared so little. life held love: her sister was left to her. life held duty, and work to be accomplished. that work called her. yet how different it was from what she had expected! she had desired to mix with affairs; now in truth she would become part of them, but only as a wheel in the great machine. she was not disappointed nor dismayed. seen thus near at hand, life had rewards, giving vigour, not ennui; and giving reality, not that artificiality of the past. she did not regret, for she saw greater heights to the new life which she faced than to the one dead level of the old conception. it was also new to judith that without reasoning she felt all this, and knew, as never before. she would give herself to this wonderful life, would follow it to whatever end was waiting for her, confident that, having acted right, that end could not be evil. and so feeling, her heart moved within her, again to her eyes came the tears, and another of those barriers melted away which stood between judith and her true womanhood. chapter xxix knowledge of new things while the colonel lay unburied his house was unchanged. his daughters talked over their plans, and settled it between them, to the dismay of their new guardians, that judith was to become a stenographer, beth a governess. on the third day the fashionable part of stirling showed as much interest as was permitted in the two funerals which took place at the same hour. the services for the colonel were private, no flowers were sent, and a single carriage brought the mourners to the grave. on their way they passed the church where the body of the judge, as became his high position and his wife's love of display, was having almost a state funeral, and where a curious throng waited at the door to see the people who should fill the score of waiting carriages. and so the judge went to his rest much honoured, and the journals wrote about him; but the poor colonel travelled simply to the cemetery, and only his daughters, pease, and mather, stood beside his grave. george remained to watch the filling-in; the others returned home, now home no longer--judith could not regard it so. "to-morrow," she said suddenly to her two companions in the carriage, "i shall begin to look for a boarding-house." beth gave her a startled glance, but said nothing. pease answered, "we must talk it over." even in the hurry and distress of their recent relations, judith had learned to understand him so well that she knew that his reply meant opposition. pease was something new to her; she liked his deliberation, and was beginning to appreciate his force. when, arriving at the house, she found miss cynthia there, judith knew that some plan had been made between them. miss cynthia proposed it at once: the sisters should come to live with her. "you shall have a room apiece," she said. "you shall do exactly as you please. and there is nothing else for you to do." "i knew," said judith, "that our friends would think we oughtn't board." "it isn't that," replied miss cynthia. "i say you can't. next monday this house and furniture are to be given over to mr. ellis. my dear girl, you haven't a penny to your name!" perhaps the brusque reply was merciful, as it swept away all grounds for argument. "take beth," judith answered, "but there is no reason why you should help me. let me go out and earn my living." "i mean to take beth," was the determined answer. "and i claim the chance to know you better." "judith," cried beth tearfully, "would you go away from me?" and pease put in his argument. "you are not able to earn money yet. you must stay somewhere while you study." "so," asked judith, "all this has been talked over between you?" pease answered by giving her a note from mather. "i hope," it read, "that for beth's sake you will accept miss pease's offer." for beth's sake! judith looked at beth, then at the other two, both prepared for battle, and yielded. "i think," was miss pease's sole remark, "that you are wise." her manner implied a threat withdrawn, much as if, had not judith agreed, she would have been carried off by force. in three days more the house was vacated, and was surrendered to ellis. when pease and mather had adjusted the colonel's accounts, some few dollars were remaining to his estate, only to be swallowed up by the outstanding bills, the most significant of which was the account for the japanese knife. and so the two girls, whose small savings had gone to buy their mourning, were left almost literally without a cent. thus judith began the world anew on the charity of friends, telling herself that she must submit for the sake of accomplishing. she took her place at the side of pease's table with the air of still presiding at her own, and mather, coming in the evening, noted her bearing and groaned in spirit. he explained that he had come to see if the moving were successful. "three trunks between us," said judith. "did you think the undertaking was very great?" "there is your typewriter," he reminded her. but she would have no jesting. "my one really valuable asset. and now you must tell me, george, where i should go to school. to what business college, i mean?" for in spite of all protests, the sisters were preparing to work. from their old school-books they had saved those which might still be of service, and on the morrow beth was to begin with her geography and arithmetic. "it will be very unpleasant," mather said, "going to a commercial school. look here, there is a little girl in my office--you saw her at chebasset--who can come and teach you, evenings." "and my days?" she returned. "i am not afraid of the unpleasantness." so he sighed and advised her. she appreciated that he had inquired into the standing of the schools, and could tell which was the best. the tuition was expensive, but there was a scheme by which scholars might pay out of future wages. "and so i go deeper into debt before i can begin to earn for my fifteen thousand dollars?" "judith," he said, "let your friends make up that sum and relieve you of all relations with ellis." "mr. pease and you?" she asked. "and mr. fenno. excuse me for telling him; he had learned something of it from beth." "he is very kind," said judith. "so are you all, but the debt would remain." "ellis can annoy you," he reminded her. "then let me bear it as a punishment. it may help me to make something of myself." "how many years," he demanded, "do you mean to keep this up?" "forever, if necessary," she returned, but then spoke softly. "george, don't be vexed with me. what else can i do?" she was earnest; he saw there no other way for her. "let me help, then," he said, and told her more about the school. in her questions and comments he saw her interest in the future, her curiosity as to the life she was about to lead. in spite of all that had passed, in spite of the new deceptive softness, the old idea still held and ruled her: she would be in touch with things, would know what was going on in the world. in her new home, little lessons began to come to judith. pease was a revelation of kindliness and ability--a contradiction. that such simplicity could cover such power, that he could set up an inflexible opinion against hers and yet be embarrassed in her presence, was strange, yet very pleasing. miss cynthia with her violent manners was another source of knowledge, for this odd person was a woman of the world; she had experience and importance; she corresponded with philanthropists, and people of note came to see her. and judith gained from her this lesson: that from a quiet home one may extend a wide influence, and be of the world while not at all times in it. thus the two peases, with their individuality, did much to show judith that there was force still remaining in the old families which she had rated so low. she grew to have a little fear of miss pease, with her searching questions and blunt comments, lest she should inquire into judith's interest in ellis, and with that cutting tongue lay bare her folly. and yet at the same time judith took comfort in miss cynthia, who upheld her in her plans. miss cynthia had worked for her living, and declared that it did a woman good. but the strongest new influence on judith was in her relations with beth. judith had always recognised beth's strength. a feminine fortitude, not disdaining tears; a perception of worldly values which judith was coming to see was clearer than her own; steadfastness and charity: these were the qualities which had brought beth through the recent crisis with less actual change than in her sister. and judith, beginning to admire in beth the traits which previously she had merely noted, found also a great comfort in her sister's girlishness, a solace in her softer nature which was to judith the beginning of the possibilities of friendship. for, save with ellis, judith had never spoken freely, and with him but little. at the same time she had never been lonely, turning from friends. yet in this changed life she took pleasure in beth's nearness, interested herself in her doings, and invited her confidences. she grew jealous lest miss cynthia, so long beth's friend, should take the place which belonged to her; and so by gentleness judith won from beth the story which weighed on her mind. it was one evening when the sisters had gone up-stairs; judith went into beth's room. beth, with her sadness so well controlled, seemed sweeter than she had ever been. she had grown pale over her books. "if you go to your school," she said when judith remonstrated with her, "why shouldn't i work, too?" but she was often weary at the end of the day, and seemed so now. "beth," said judith, "i saw mrs. wayne to-day. she was looking better. george has found a buyer for her house, and she is going to live with some cousins." "i am very glad that is settled so well," answered beth, and then asked with hesitation: "has anything been heard from--jim?" "nothing," replied judith. "beth, are you worrying about him?" "no," beth said. "i--i am sorry for him, but----" she looked up. "oh, judith, i want to speak to some one about it. there is a part of it that no one knows. may i tell you?" judith knelt at her side. "tell me, dear?" she begged. beth, clasping judith's hand and feeling the comfort of her sympathy, told the story of that meeting at the judge's--told the whole of it. had she done right in giving back the ring? judith assured her that she had. "that is not all," said beth. "i thought that i gave it back because he had been--untrue, yet that i loved him just the same. but, judith, i have been thinking--you have seen me thinking?" "yes, dear," judith answered. "what have you thought?" beth pressed her hands. "you must tell me if i am right. for i seem almost hard-hearted, sometimes. judith, why did the judge die?" judith looked at her with startled eyes. "it killed him!" beth nodded solemnly. "_it_ killed him, or did--they!" "they!" judith cried. "but she most," went on beth, looking straight in front of her. "sometimes i think i understand it, judith. it wasn't sudden; it must have been going on for some time. i went to see mrs. wayne that once, you remember, after it all happened. she doesn't blame jim; she took me up into his room: it was just as it was that night, with his bed opened for him. and she cried there. but i looked on the bureau, judith, and saw pictures of--her." "of mrs. harmon?" "yes. and one almost covered the one he had of me. judith, he hadn't come to this all of a sudden? tell me, for i don't want to misjudge him." "i have seen him with her," answered judith. "once i saw them at the theater door, going out together." the coincidence made itself clearer. "that was the day you and he went; i supposed you were behind." "we--he--it was my fault," said beth. "i went away from the play, and he left me, angry. he must have met her and gone with her. and at other times, when i knew he was not at chebasset, and expected him to come to me, and he didn't--do you suppose he was with her?" "i'm afraid so." "and that kiss," said beth, shuddering. "it was so eager--fierce! it wasn't just flirting. he--he preferred her to me." "beth, dear!" murmured judith, soothing her. "he was--weak," went on beth. "i suppose i always knew it, but i wouldn't admit it. so weak that she--i want to be charitable, but i think she led him away from me." "i am afraid she did, dear." "i forgive him," said beth, struggling to pursue her thought to the end. "of course you know that, judith. but i was fond of the judge, and he died from--it. and jim was--false to me, and" (judith felt the little form begin to quiver) "even his dishonesty was not for me but for--her, because mr. price sent mrs. wayne a great bill for expensive jewels, and she asked me if--if i'd give them back, and i had to say that he--hadn't given me any!" "beth, dear!" cried judith, clasping the quivering form. "beth, be brave!" "i will," said beth, struggling heroically. "but as i've thought it out by myself----" "oh, you've been all alone!" cried judith, reproaching herself. "why didn't i understand?" "i had to think it out," beth said. "i think i see it clearly now, judith, and i know myself better, and i'm--ashamed of myself that i'm so selfish, but i think that i--don't love him--any more!" tears came to her relief, and she clung to her sister, shaken with sobs. judith wept with her; for them both that was a blessed hour. long after others were abed their murmured conference lasted, for beth needed to be told, over and over again, that she had done right, and felt right, and judith was glad of it. thus new feelings grew in judith, stronger for her contact with the outside world. for the school was disagreeable and humiliating. she had to go back to the rudiments of knowledge; she had to do examples and find them wrong. her teachers were unpleasant, her fellow-pupils coarse and inquisitive. the many little daily rubs commenced to tell on her; her cheeks lost colour, her step something of its vigour, and she began to look upon the outer world as something with power to do her still more harm. yet to it she presented a haughty front, as one person found. mrs. harmon came to call, an interesting widow, dressed in her new mourning. it was late in the afternoon; the day had gone hard with judith, she had forgotten to eat luncheon, and since her return from the school had been sitting over her "home lessons," wretched tasks which called her to make up the accounts of a certain mr. y----, and also to calculate the interest on notes at four, five, and seven and a half per cent. for periods of from twelve to a hundred days. her answers would not agree with those in the book. but faint and discouraged as she was, her eyes grew bright as she saw mrs. harmon's card, and she walked into the parlour with the air of a grenadier. "why, judith, child," said mrs. harmon, rising, "how changed you look! i am so glad i came to comfort you." "and i am glad you came," judith returned. "i have been wishing to see you." "you have been lonesome, dear?" "to thank you," pursued judith steadily, "for the service you did my sister, in ridding her of mr. wayne." very fortunately, after the two had remained looking at each other for a quarter of a minute, while mrs. harmon grew very red in the face and judith remained unchanged, miss cynthia suddenly entered the room. "oh, i beg your pardon," she said, halting. "i didn't know that any one was here." "you didn't disturb us," judith answered. "mrs. harmon was just going." mrs. harmon, looking as if she would burst if she attempted to speak, could only bow with an attempt at frigidity, quite spoiled by the visible heat which was almost smothering her, and departed with suddenness. miss cynthia, never surprised at people's actions, looked at judith, whose cheeks were very pale, while her eyes had lost their fire. "i suppose i've insulted her," said judith. "i hope you have," miss cynthia answered. but watching judith intently, she suddenly seized her by the arm, forced her to the sofa, forbade her to stir, and sent for tea. it was a sign of change that judith took the ministration passively. yet her growing weariness was not to be relieved by a short rest or a cup of tea. her nerves kept her at work, driving her at forced draught, which for long at a time is good for neither machinery nor man. mather came that evening, and was led into the parlour by beth, but his eyes sought for judith in vain. "where is she?" he demanded. "she's in the dining-room," beth said. "this evening it's her shorthand; she's expanding her notes." "and she wouldn't want to see me?" "she _needs_ company." he looked at her, trying to read her meaning; she smiled and tossed her head. "beth is beginning to look better," he thought, and remembered that she had never asked him for news of jim. then her expression changed as a step was heard in the hall; it was pease coming, plantigrade and slow. "is that it?" thought mather. "i think i'll go and see judith," he said, and passed pease at the door. judith was in the dining-room, bending over her note-book. scattered sheets lay on the table before her; her hair had in places escaped from its confinement and strayed over forehead and nape. he saw the fatigue in her eyes as she raised them. "i'm all mixed up," she said. he drew up a chair and sat down. "so i should think. how any one reads shorthand i don't see." he took the note-book. "it seems well done." "sometimes i write it correctly," she said, "and then can't read it. sometimes i could read it if i had only written it right. to-day the man read very fast, on purpose, and i lost some of it." "i think," he said, "that if you could at times forget your work, you would come back to it fresher." "i can't forget it," she replied. "sometimes i dream of it." "we'll have you sick on our hands," he warned her. "don't lecture, george," she answered. "give me the book." he watched her for a while as she translated her hieroglyphs; she kept at it doggedly. "good-night," he said at last. she looked up to respond, smiled mechanically, and turned to her work before he was out of the room. he went to the parlour and stood anxiously before beth and pease. "you'll have her breaking down," he said. "there is nothing we can do," beth answered. "she will keep at it." "i've warned you," he responded, and took his hat. he was at the front door, when from the dining-room judith called him to her. "george," she asked, "is six per cent. the legal rate of interest?" "in this state it is," he answered. "then my note to mr. ellis is rolling up interest at nine hundred a year?" "i suppose so." "can i ever earn as much?" "with experience you can." "and i must earn much more in order to pay anything on the principal?" "yes." she put her hands together in her lap. "i am learning something." as he stood and looked at her, he saw two tears roll out upon her cheeks. "judith!" he cried, striding toward her. but she rose quickly, putting out a hand to keep him away. "i am only tired," she said. "i'm sorry not to be better company. good-night, george." he stopped instantly, said "good-night," and went away. then suddenly she felt forlorn, and more tears came into her eyes. "he would not have gone if he loved me still." chapter xxx time begins his revenges political and social undercurrents were slowly working to the surface in the world of stirling. though it was barely spring, the mayoralty campaign was well under way, promising a close struggle in the fall. a more immediate matter was the threatened strike, which the men's leaders were urging in the hope that the approaching annual meeting of the stockholders of the street-railway might bring some relief. in these affairs the attitude of ellis was of importance. the newspapers called him the sphinx, since he gave no sign of his purposes. in politics, of course, it was to be assumed that he was on the side of the machine. but against the strike he might take a variety of courses, with a variety of results, all of which were, by the speculative, mapped and calculated in advance. he might yield and avoid the strike, he might defy it, or at the last minute he might by some sudden action entirely change the aspect of affairs and bring himself profit and credit. just how this last could be done no one seemed to be sure, but since from day to day matters were growing worse and ellis made no move, it was confidently stated that he had "something up his sleeve." otherwise there was no explaining his conduct. his opponents did not dare to believe that he was blinded by self-confidence, and yet his own followers, trust him as they might, were uneasy. his manner showed a steady, almost savage determination to win, and yet he did not "tend to business." there were days when he was absent from his office altogether, refusing to talk with his subordinates except by telephone--and they hated to discuss plans except within four walls. there was even one day when he disappeared altogether, just when the stirling representatives had come down from the state capital to confer with him on the street-railway bill, the prospects of which, on account of the clause conferring eminent domain, were none too bright. ellis, when at last his men found him in the evening, said only that he had been at chebasset. moreover, his men got little out of him: with an odd new gleam in his eye, he merely listened as they spoke; he gave no directions, and when they begged him to run up to the capital and lobby for himself he thanked them and said he'd think it over. feeling their journey to have been for nothing, they left him, grumbling among themselves. something seemed wrong with him. something was wrong with him. a man with a pain gnawing at his heart and a ghost always before his eyes cannot attend to his work. it was not the colonel's ghost that dogged ellis: he never troubled for his part in blanchard's death. judith, splendid in cold anger, haunted him. she spoiled his sleep, she came between him and his work, she tormented him by the vision of what he had lost. there was a steady drain upon him, as from an unhealed wound--or from that inward bleeding which, on the very first day of their acquaintance, he had felt on leaving her. no, he was not himself; his mind was confused, his energies wasted, by the constant alternation of anger and despair. when realisation swept upon him suddenly, then he shut himself up, refused himself to all, and fought his fury until he had controlled it. that day when he went to chebasset he had not intended to go, but on his way to his office there suddenly rushed over him the sense of his loss. possessed by the thought, he took the train to chebasset and wandered half the day among his grounds, tormenting himself by the recollection that these drives, walks, shrubberies were laid out for judith, and now she would never live among them. when he took out of his pocket a slip of paper bearing her signature and told himself that she was in his power--in his power!--he found no pleasure in the thought. in the evening he had not cast off his mood, and when he met his men, sent them away dissatisfied. one, bolder or more foolhardy than the others, lingered a moment. "say," he asked, "what's wrong?" "nothing," answered ellis. "honest i'm telling you," said his henchman, "a strike will kill the bill. and the men on the road are getting ugly." "thanks," ellis replied impatiently. the glow in his eyes suddenly became fierce, and the man took himself off. all this was extremely irritating to ellis; he felt more angry with his own men than with his opponents, and was ready to punish them for insubordination without considering the cause of their alarm. it was unfortunate for mr. price that he chose to come to ellis just after his legislators had left him. price wore the same uneasy air. "now, what are you worried about?" ellis began on him. it was his street-railway stock, price explained. the quotations were so continually dropping---"only fifteen dollars!" ellis interrupted scornfully. "yes," agreed price, "but they will soon be down again to where i bought them." "bought?" sneered ellis. "_bought!_" "well----" hesitated price. "what is it to you," demanded ellis in jarring tones, "where the price of the stock is, up or down? it cost you nothing, it pays you well, it's a sure thing. just you hold it and send me your proxies." "but," suggested price, very much brow-beaten, yet endeavouring to say what he came for, "if it's such a good thing, won't you, perhaps, take it?" "what!" rasped ellis. "my god, price, haven't you the decency to sit still and say nothing?" "oh, well," mumbled the jeweller, writhing, "if the stock is so sure--you're sure it's solid?" "certainly," ellis said. "price, don't be an ass! the other side is just selling itself a share or two, every little while, to make the impression that the value is falling. don't you be taken in." "oh, if that's all!" breathed price, much relieved. he took his hat. "there, run along," said ellis. "you know who are your best friends." he spoke as if directing a child, and price went away with an irritated sense of his own impotence and meanness. but ellis found no relief in scolding his dependents. he missed something; he knew that he needed a place where he might sit quiet and forget the grind and grime of his affairs. the best that was left to him was mrs. harmon, but she never could equal judith, and when he went to see her now she bothered him with her advice. "i wanted to see you," were her first words. "i have been thinking of telephoning you." "what is it now?" he asked drearily. "stephen," she demanded with energy, "do you realise what is going on? they are all organising against you." "what can they do?" he snarled. "your own men are frightened," she said. "two of them came to me to-day--no, i won't tell their names. they begged me to tell you there mustn't be a strike. you'll lose your bill, your mayor will be defeated. can't you see that?" "no!" he returned. "the papers are all calling for mather as street-railway president," she went on. "the men say they would never strike under him. it's all very well for you to say that the travelling public must take what you give them, but people won't----" "lydia," he interrupted, "it's very good of you to be interested in my position, but suppose you give your time to your own. it needs it bad enough." he touched a sore, for judge harmon's old friends, remembering his disappointment in his wife, were dropping her. she was irritated, and snapped in return. "you look very badly," she said critically. "just for a girl, stephen?" he glared at her so furiously, at a loss for speech, that she was frightened and begged his pardon. yet after she had given him tea she returned again to the charge. "you said, stephen, that you control a majority of shareholders' votes. you aren't afraid that some of your men will sell out to the other side? i see the stock is down." "but is it traded in?" he asked. "only a share or two. you are like price; he came whimpering to me yesterday about his fifty shares." "but the balance is pretty even, isn't it?" she inquired. "mightn't fifty shares just make the whole difference?" "if you mean whether price would sell me out," he answered. "he never bought his shares. they came to him through me. he's tied to me." "i don't see how?" she said doubtfully. "he's not in politics now; he's independent, and he gets his money from the upper people--the other side entirely. but i suppose you know. still, i wish abiel had never sold his stock." "don't worry," he commanded. "confound it, i have to supply courage to the whole of you." his men had need of his courage as day by day matters drifted nearer to a crisis and they saw their enemies organising. those nervous and eager persons, the reform politicians, had long talks with the men of money, who were not now averse to giving them interviews. the men of money talked together, and the newspapers claimed that at last, after almost a generation, the society leaders were to take a hand in politics. as several of the reformers held railway stock, and as the fashionables could (if they chose) muster many votes for the election, their alliance against ellis might prove formidable. the reformers grew more cheerful, old mr. fenno more grim, pease more thoughtful as the days went by. the time was near for the annual meeting of the street-railway shareholders, and the strike, if it came at all, would come before that. the whole city was intent upon the event. and judith, tired as she was, roused to watch the struggle. was her sluggish class waking at last? was ellis at bay? was mather to come forward and lead? judith read the newspapers, but gleaned only such statements as: "mr. fenno and mr. branderson at last control a majority of street-railroad votes," or "mr. watson has added largely to his holdings of street-railway stock." she knew these reports could not be true: the stock was tied fast long ago, and ellis would take every pains to maintain his supremacy. but mather would explain to her the condition of affairs. yet he came seldom to the house. she knew that his mind was occupied, he was interviewed and pestered on all hands. day by day she read in the papers: "mr. mather refuses to make any statement." but he might speak to her. his only desire, when he came to call, appeared to be to throw off every care save for her health. she did not like to broach the important topic, yet with repression her interest grew, and she felt deeply disappointed when, the opportunity being given to speak upon it, he was reserved. he met her in a street-car, and sat by her side. when the conductor came for his fare mather nodded to him and called him by name. "good-day, wilson." "i've taken mr. ellis's fare every day for two years," said the man, "yet i don't think he knows me by sight. ah, mr. mather, if we only had you back there wouldn't be no strike." mather smiled. "we were all good friends in those days." the man went away, and judith asked as much as she dared. "how does it seem to be so in demand?" "i'm not so sure how much in demand i am," he replied, and then spoke of other things. she thought that he was avoiding the subject, and told herself that he did not need her any more. far away were those days when he sought her advice--and this thought made her sigh occasionally over her work. the tasks grew harder as she felt herself left out; she became eager to do more than merely study, feeling that, with so much going on around her, she was nothing. one night when mather came he spoke for a while with pease privately, then hurried away without waiting to see the others. judith had put her books away; now she took them again, and went into the dining-room to work. but she could not fix her mind on her figures, and after a while she said aloud in the room: "a month ago when he came to see me i would not stop work to speak with him. now when he comes i put away my books, but he does not wait." then she heard pease speaking with beth in the parlour, and heard george's name coupled with ellis's. so beth was learning all about the plans! smothering a sudden jealousy, judith determined to go and ask what had been said, yet at the door her resolution failed her, and she turned back. let others know, she would go without--and she applied herself to her figures until her head swam with them. she went unhappily to bed and lay there thinking. through her loneliness was rising a dread of ellis as an overhanging menace; she began to fear that he would defeat mather a second time. ellis's sinister force began to oppress her, not only as a cause of general evil, but also as threatening disaster to that friend whose value, even whose excellence, her anxieties were teaching her to acknowledge. as judith's thoughts dwelt on the man in whom, without brilliance or the stamp of genius, there was nothing false, nothing base or mean, and nothing hidden, ellis seemed like an enemy who, once successful against herself, was slowly approaching for an attack on mather--an enemy whose skill she knew, whose resources she feared, and whose mercy she doubted. dreading thus for mather, she began to tremble also for herself: she was in ellis's debt so deep that only a miracle could ever clear her, while every day was rolling up the interest against her. where would this end? and through her dread increased her loneliness. looking for help, she found that she must depend solely upon herself. day by day she had learned how small were her powers beside the immense energies of the city. the definite fear of ellis suggested still other calamities, vague, hid in the impenetrable future; there was no misfortune which fate could not bring upon her, no defense which she could interpose. she was alone--and suddenly she began to long for companionship, the fellowship which some one could give, which some one once offered, which then she had refused, but which now seemed more precious than anything in the world. thus judith, in her trouble, was unmindful of the power which still was hers, and ignorant of the revenge which she was to take for all of her misfortunes. for though she felt herself so weak, it was she, and she alone, who brought on ellis the strike which his supporters were so anxious to prevent. on a morning, the consequences of whose events were to reach far, going as usual to her school she passed ellis in the street. faltering and shocked, he stood still while she passed. he had not seen her since the night of her rejection of him, and the change in her was startling. she was in black, had grown thin and pale, and her spirited carriage had changed to the walk of weariness, yet her beauty of face shone out the clearer, and still she was a picture which men turned to watch. she did not notice ellis, but passed with face set, eyes looking far away, absorbed in thought. when she had gone from his sight ellis hurried to his offices and locked himself in the inner room. there for an hour he walked up and down, up and down. his clerk heard him, and dared not interrupt him for small matters; the routine business of the morning was easily discharged. but about noon came a deputation from the street-railway employees, asking to see mr. ellis. the secretary listened at the door; ellis was still pacing the room, yet the matter was important. the secretary knocked. "men from the union to see you," he said through the door. "tell them to come again," answered ellis. the secretary went with this answer to the deputation. the spokesman answered: "we have wasted enough time. we must see him now or not at all." the secretary knocked again at ellis's door. "they say they must see you now, sir," he said. "send them to the devil," ellis replied. the secretary, without thought of the irony of his interpretation of the order, asked the men to wait. they consulted among themselves and went away. that morning the cars on the streets had run as usual, but the delegates of the union, returning angrily from ellis's office, gave the order for the men to strike. as each car returned to the barn its crew left; by one o'clock almost all the cars were housed. then the supporters of ellis began to gather in his outer office. price was there, daggett was there, a dozen others as well; they consulted anxiously. not one of them had expected that ellis would let the trouble go so far. at last, with pale face and fierce eye, he appeared among them. "ha," he said sardonically when he saw so many of them. "what has frightened you all?" they told him of the strike; there was still one day, they reminded him, before the transfer books of the road should close. some of his men thought he was staggered at the news, and the hastier, price loudest among them, begged him to conciliate the men. but the old fighting fire kindled within him, and he stopped them with scorn. "don't be fools," he said. "price, you're a coward. the men will hit first, will they? well, we'll give them all they want!" he began to give directions how to meet the strike, and his energy was communicated to them all, save one. even that one applauded with the rest, and outwardly approved. chapter xxxi brings about two new combinations for some time beth blanchard had been changing back to her old self. once unburdened by confession, her heart seemed free again, and beth began to think of jim wayne as a part of a past which could in no way affect her future. sorry for him as she was, with her pity she mingled shame at those remembered kisses. she found pleasure in the society of pease, partly because he stood for so much that jim was not. solid, sober, incapable of concealment, his qualities gave her satisfaction, and the more because she knew his thoughts to be so much of her. she took to teasing him again, a process to which he submitted with bewildered delight, and to which miss cynthia made judith a party by getting her out of the room whenever beth and pease were in it. under such favouring circumstances, which would have tried the stoicism of any one, pease was proving himself quite human, and was harbouring new hopes. he could not fail to suspect that beth mourned her father more than jim, and what he imagined miss pease made sure. "you've never told me, peveril," she asked him, "if you lost much by mr. wayne?" "two weeks' wages of our men," he answered. "worth what you get for it?" she asked. "what do i get?" he inquired. "her!" she answered emphatically. "if you suppose," he said, with an appearance of confidence which was utterly false, "that miss blanchard will forget mr. wayne, you are quite mistaken." "you are right," said miss cynthia, "she never will forget him." her cousin's heart sank. "she thinks of him every day" (miss cynthia was watching him, and made a purposeful pause) "as something that she has escaped from. and _now_ the way is open for a man that is a man!" then she smiled as she noted his relief. the way was indeed open, and the two were progressing along it very fast, when suddenly a position was offered to beth. old mrs. grimstone had, for the twelfth time, lost her attendant, and some one recommended the younger miss blanchard. it was a handsome offer that the old lady made; money was nothing to her, and she had learned that she must pay high for such service as she demanded. for she was, notoriously, the most exacting, crabbed, fractious old woman that ever wore false teeth, and any one who attended her lived a dog's life. pease was utterly dismayed, and came to judith to beg her to prevent this calamity. "but what can i do?" she asked. "mrs. grimstone offers a hundred dollars a month--much more than any one else ever pays. how can beth refuse?" "think," pease adjured her, "of what she will have to bear!" "i think her disposition is equal to it," judith said. "oh, i don't doubt that," he hurriedly explained. "but mrs. grimstone is so rough!" "beth seems to think she must go," was all judith could reply. "she usually knows her own mind, mr. pease." "she does," he admitted mournfully. but he was not subdued, and blazed out with a fitful courage: "i will do my best to prevent it!" "do!" said judith heartily. pease did his best; knowing how weak he was against beth, he spent no time in discussion, but rushing into the subject he declared to beth that she ought not go to mrs. grimstone, and that was all there was to it. then he stood breathless at his own audacity. "ought not?" asked beth, surprised at such precipitation in one who was usually so slow. "if few persons are willing to go to mrs. grimstone, isn't that a very good reason why i should?" "it isn't that; it isn't that!" he replied, and wished, despairing, that he could voice his thoughts. but beth's brown eyes, just a little quizzical, took away his courage, and all his impetus was spent. he gasped with vexation. "then what is it?" she asked, smiling outright. "promise me three days?" was all he could say. "i'm busy now--this street-railway----oh, don't laugh!" he begged as beth's smile grew merrier. "please promise me three days!" to his delight she promised, and he went and began to draught a letter of such importance that its composition was to take nearly all of the seventy-two hours which she had accorded him. he hoped that what he had to say would not be too sudden--but he need not have worried. a man cannot note a girl's every movement, be solicitous at each little cold, know to a minute the calendar of her engagements, and gradually perfect himself in knowledge of her tastes, without declaring himself, unconsciously, in every sentence. upon this pleasant by-play judith smiled, yet knew that her future would change with beth's. for if beth went to mrs. grimstone, judith must find work; she could no longer bear the consciousness that she was not earning. a little envy stirred in her, as she feared that she could not possibly, in spite of all her preparation, earn so much as beth. in this belief the principal of her school confirmed her when she asked him if he could not find her a position. "you understand that with your experience your salary will be small?" he asked her. "have i not done well since i came?" she inquired. "i never had a better pupil," he replied. "but a few more months, miss blanchard----" "how much could i earn to begin with?" she persisted. "forty dollars a month," he answered. "so little?" she asked, disappointed. "perhaps fifty, if you have luck," he conceded. "but you'd better wait." "i can't," judith answered. "will you tell me of any chance that you hear of?" he promised that he would, yet gave her no immediate hope of a position. judith was depressed; more and more it seemed to her that she was nothing, and her debt loomed large before her eyes. it seemed a great weight to carry--alone. nevertheless, she maintained her interest in the great combination against ellis, could not fail to maintain it, for soon came the strike. it was an orderly strike and a good-natured public; people were saying cheerfully that the cars would be running again in a week, when mr. mather was president; but believing that no one could be sure of that, and ignorant of her own deep influence, judith wished for the fiftieth time that she could learn how matters stood. the vagueness and uncertainty were wearing her. and at last came the information. at the supper table, on the evening of the strike, pease seemed as untroubled as usual, and as genial. miss cynthia broke in upon his calm. "peveril," she demanded, "what do the men hope to gain by striking now?" "to-morrow," he explained, "the transfer books close. only to-morrow's holders of stock can vote at the meeting a week hence." "oh," she said, "i see. the men hope to scare some of ellis's supporters into selling out." he nodded. "the men have very clever leaders." "and will this help you?" "i hope so." she followed up the indirect admission. "then you need help?" "get me forty shares," he said, "and the matter is settled. but----" he realised that he was talking shop. "the butter, please, cynthia?" "well," she said in triumph, as she passed the dish, "i have at last learned something from you." "good!" he returned, undisturbed. "and i'll tell you this much more, that i haven't the slightest idea where i can find those forty shares." "oh!" she cried, dismayed. "what does mr. mather think?" "mather knows nothing about it," said pease. "his friends are working for him without his knowledge, because they have never been sure that they could help him." judith, listening to the talk, told herself that mather would never be president of the road; she had heard ellis describe the little ring of men who stood solidly around him--men whom he had made. that ring would never be broken. yet amid her disappointment she felt relief. mather had never told her of the projects of his friends because, like herself, he had not been sure of them. before the meal was ended mr. fenno came--only for a minute, he said, and bade them not to rise. judith admired the picture that he made as he stood and talked with pease; his white hair and mustache seemed whiter still by contrast with his coal-black eyebrows, while the dead black-and-white evening clothes were relieved by the soft sable which lined his overcoat. he questioned pease with his accustomed bluntness. "no go?" "nothing yet," pease answered. "ah, he's clever!" said mr. fenno, to which encomium of ellis pease assented by a nod, but seemed not inclined to pursue the subject further. then the servant, entering, announced that mr. price was at the door, asking for mr. pease. as pease started from his seat his inquiring glance met fenno's. the old man knit his heavy brows. "do you suppose----" he said. "may be!" pease answered with visible excitement. "he must see you alone," added the maid. "show him into the parlour," pease directed. for a minute he was alone with the jeweller; fenno, forgetting the presence of the ladies, stared after him and waited. then pease returned. "can we have you with us, mr. fenno?" he asked. the three shut themselves up in the parlour. judith, as she controlled her deep interest, felt how often it was now her part to wait. but at last the parlour door opened again, and voices were heard. it was price who spoke first. "you understand, mr. pease--my family----" "yes, yes," pease answered. "and my position, you see," the explanation continued. judith saw the jeweller, bowing and rubbing his hands together nervously. "yes," repeated pease shortly, opening the outer door for him. "at my office, mr. price, the first thing in the morning." the door shut on the jeweller, and the two others came into the dining-room. pease looked glum, the older man scornful, and in absorption they spoke before the others. "it is settled, then," mr. fenno said grimly. "i feel," responded pease, "as if i had touched pitch." "you will get over it," was the cynical retort. "now, then, to finish all this up. can you answer for mather?" pease shook his head. "he must answer for himself." "he shall, to-morrow," said mr. fenno. "what do you say to a meeting at my office--all of us?" "you will need all," pease answered. "we can settle everything," went on fenno in his heavy voice. "we will have it all in writing--i'll have a stenographer on hand." a stenographer! judith started with eagerness, and mr. fenno turned to her. "what do you say?" he asked. "will you help us?" her eyes sparkled. "gladly!" she cried. "good!" he said bluffly. "nine o'clock at my office. pease, have everybody there, except mather, at three; george at half-past." pease nodded, and mr. fenno smote him on the shoulder. "come, cheer up, man! everything is clear at last." but pease could not smile. "in such a way!" he grumbled. "through no fault of ours." then mr. fenno turned to beth. "beth, i leave him to you." and next he looked on judith with a sudden change of manner, losing both his animation and his cynicism, and becoming very grave. "to-morrow," he said, "you shall see what you have done." "i?" she asked in astonishment. "i, sir?" but he merely nodded, and hastened away. and pease was left to beth. reminded by fenno's words that his three days were nearly at an end, he forgot price, forgot mather, and remembered only a letter which suddenly seemed to be burning a hole in his pocket. miss cynthia and judith left him alone in the parlour with beth, who for a while watched with amusement his nervous movements about the room. she tried to make him talk, but failed. "something is very much on your mind," she said at last. "everything is!" he exclaimed in desperation, and dragged out the letter. "won't you--will you--read this, to-night?" he put the letter in her hand, and moved toward the door. "why do you go?" she asked innocently, opening the envelope. he had reached the threshold. "i will come again." but she poised the paper in her hand and looked at him reflectively. "i don't think you'd better go," she said, and then added positively, "no, i can't have you go. please sit down in that chair." obeying the nod of her determined little head, he dragged himself from the door, sat down, and watched her miserably while she studied his letter. she read it once, and sat with pursed lips; she read it again, and knit her brows; she read it a third time and looked at him thoughtfully. then she read parts of it aloud. "i apprehend much unhappiness to you in your proposed occupation .... admirable qualities--tender nature.... am emboldened to say what otherwise i might not ... if you will give yourself into my care, i will promise you that so far as it is possible for a man to avert them, you will never know trouble or need----" she broke off, and looked at him. "this is a proposal of marriage, mr. pease?" he shivered. "i meant it so." she put the letter in her lap with a regretful sigh. "i thought that when a man asked a girl to marry him he always said something about--his feelings for her." "but respect, admiration--" he was beginning eagerly. "oh," she interrupted, "those go without saying. and i understand," she glanced at the letter, "that you write this only because you wish to relieve me of work. it is very good of you to sacrifice yourself." "it is no sacrifice!" he cried. she folded the note and thrust it into its envelope. "i never believed," she said emphatically, "in proposals by letter." "i am sorry," faltered miserable pease. "and what you say," continued beth, holding the note out for him to take, "is not my idea of the essentials of a proposal." he came and received the letter, but could answer nothing. "i think," beth set forth reflectively, "that just two things are necessary to a proposal: a statement and a question. a man need only say: 'i love you. will you marry me?' just seven words--no more." she folded her hands in her lap, looked at him innocently, and waited. gazing at her, fascinated, slowly he grew red. an idea found lodgment, worked deeper, penetrated to the springs of action. he crushed the letter in his hand. "i love you!" he cried. "will you marry me?" she dimpled into smiles. "yes," said little beth. chapter xxxii which is in some respects satisfactory judith sat in mr. fenno's little office, while in the larger room the magnates were slowly gathering. she was deeply interested in the result of the coming meeting, a little anxious as well, on account of the last words which mr. fenno had said to her. "do you think george will accept?" he had asked. "why should he not?" she returned, startled. "you see no reason?" were his words as he left her. she puzzled to find a reason until, in the outer office, mr. fenno's deep voice began to address the little meeting. before him sat, in two groups, the financiers and the reform politicians, whose interests were to be reconciled. they had, between them, the power to make a new railway president and a new mayor, but never yet had the two groups of men worked together. "we all know why we are here," mr. fenno began. "a holy crusade is our object--or the protection of our interests." "it is not your interests that influence you," said one of the reformers. "we are glad to see, mr. fenno, that you are moved by righteous indignation. this recent tragedy--" but mr. fenno stopped him by a sudden gesture. "my stenographer," and he emphasised the word, "my stenographer is within hearing. if we require any other agreements than i have prepared, she can copy them." he saw the glances which his friends exchanged at the news of judith's presence; moved by the sudden reference to her misfortunes, his heavy voice trembled as he proceeded. "we all have our--wrongs to avenge, and a good friend to place in his proper position. before mr. mather comes, suppose we arrive at an understanding." "suppose," rejoined the leader of the reformers, "mr. fenno makes a statement of his expectations. it seems to me," he said when the explanation was forthcoming, "that the good government league is expected to give more than it receives." "it is more blessed----" quoted mr. fenno drily. "can't we," put in pease mildly, "give concessions on either side? i think we need each other." "it is just this," said mr. fenno to the reformers: "lend us your candidate to straighten out our tangle, and we'll lend him back to straighten yours." "is it possible," was the doubtful question, "that a president of the street-railroad can stand for mayor without raising suspicion of his motives?" "mather can," answered pease promptly. "certainly with less suspicion than ellis arouses," supplemented mr. fenno. "come, will you lose a chance to defeat ellis on his first line of battle? he will be beaten all the easier on his second." "we are thinking of mr. mather's standing before the public," replied the reformers. "he must resign from your presidency as soon as we nominate him." "very well." "that suits you?" "yes, if you will release him from his promise to you now." "we will, if you will support him then." "here is an agreement covering these points," said mr. fenno. "shall we put our names to this?" it was on a scene of paper-signing, then, that mather entered. some of the gentlemen looked up and nodded to him; others--they were all his seniors--continued passing the papers around the table. he paused with his hand upon the door-knob. "am i in the way?" he asked. "everything is decided without you," answered mr. fenno. "we have merely disposed of your time for the next eighteen months." mather laughed, threw off his coat, and took a chair. they explained matters to him; in her seclusion judith listened long before she heard him say a word. then he began to ask questions, deep and far-reaching, but every difficulty had been considered beforehand. "and my obligations to you, mr. pease?" he said once. "i was not to quit the electrolytic company until the fall." "i have arranged all that," pease replied. "the new chebasset manager is very satisfactory; we will promote him." "well, what do you say?" asked fenno, when every point had been covered. mather sat thoughtful for a while. "i may understand," he asked at length, "that your proposition amounts to approval of my former course as president of the street-railway?" they assured him that it did. "i should pursue," he next said, "the same policy. in place of mr. ellis's subway bill, which was this morning thrown out of the legislature, i should at once introduce another." "different in plan?" some one inquired. "quite," mather answered, smiling. "having no real estate to condemn at high prices, i have no desire for the privilege of eminent domain." "have you any objection," they asked him, "to serving in these two positions in such quick succession?" he smiled again. "are you sure you can elect me to either?" "suppose we can?" returned mr. fenno. "supposing you can," began mather--then stopped to think. "well?" demanded mr. fenno after a moment's impatience. mather roused himself. "supposing that you can elect me," he said seriously, "there is just one thing i wish to lay before you--a statement of my personal feelings. we all know each other well, we have the same interests, we know and say things which are not given to the public. i wish to define my position exactly." he paused and looked at the attentive faces. in her little office judith asked herself with sudden alarm: "will he refuse?" "the personal element," he went on, "has recently entered into my relations with mr. ellis. there are distresses which i and--friends of mine, have suffered through him, by actions which make him morally, if not legally, criminal. some of you know that what i say is true." he looked at pease, who nodded; fenno did the same, but no one spoke. mather began again with increasing energy, yet slowly, struggling for an exact statement of his position. "i have," he said, "and acknowledge freely, reason for the bitterest personal dislike of mr. ellis. and for that reason, considering the possibility of the proposals which you make to me, it has sometimes seemed to me as if i ought to refuse you----" "you must consider----" cried pease, half rising from his chair. but mather held up a hand to stay him. "and yet," he said, as pease sank back again, "i recognise the situation here. long ago i expressed my disapproval of mr. ellis as a public man, and opposed him before--certain circumstances arose. besides, i am the man (excuse me if i say it) that best can meet this strike; and again, a successful fight must be made for mayor in the fall. i believe that i can win there for you. so if it comes to a question between my personal feelings and my duties as a citizen, then--if you will believe my honesty in this confession, and in trusting myself to oppose mr. ellis without vindictiveness--if you will believe this, and will fight him with me not as a man but as a force, an evil force, then i will sign this document with you." in her little room judith found herself trembling in response to the emotion which had vibrated in his voice; but in the larger office the gentlemen rose from their chairs, crowded around mather, and in enthusiasm promised him their support. no one noticed the noise of the opening of the outer door; it was a full minute before the first of them perceived the figure which, attentive and sneering, watched them. it was ellis. he heard their words and knew their purposes, yet he had guessed beforehand what they had gathered there to do. by one of those bold strokes which had so often succeeded for him, he had come among them in the attempt to conciliate a strong minority. he had expected to arouse consternation, yet on perceiving him they looked at each other as if welcoming his presence. still ignorant of price's treachery, he did not understand the sign. "twelve good men and true," he said, coming forward. "is this an inquest?" "a funeral," mr. fenno replied. "some one whom we know is dead and cold. will you not pronounce the benediction?" "ah, i am not qualified," ellis said. "but learning that you were here in great distress of mind, i came to see if i could not relieve you. i hope you will excuse the interruption?" "willingly," mr. fenno answered, with much cheerfulness. then ellis changed his tone; dropping the banter, he looked upon them frankly. "seriously, i understand that you are here to discuss what you regard as mismanagement in the street-railway. i know i come without invitation, yet i wish to make an offer. you have large interests in the road, i dislike to exclude a minority from any voice in affairs, and so i came to say that if you wish more representation on the next board of directors----" "then we shall have it?" interrupted mr. fenno. "gentlemen, is not mr. ellis very kind?" ellis noted the sustained irony, and as those present murmured their responses to the question he saw in them no conciliatory spirit. they looked at him with that inquiring reserve which was not difficult to meet in them singly, but which, thus directed at him by a group of the blue-bloods, became irritatingly oppressive. and there was more in its meaning than ever before. suddenly he asked himself if these men could be stronger than he had thought. he had been very busy all the morning with messages to and from the capital in regard to his bill, and with the strike. if anything had happened on exchange---the serious voice of pease began to speak. "i imagine that mr. ellis, in studying the market reports to-day, failed to remark a transfer which was recorded three minutes before the closing time. otherwise he would scarcely have come here." the inquiring glances of the others grew keener, pressing upon ellis almost physically as those present watched for the effect of pease's words. standing alone against them, ellis felt a sudden sense of impending calamity, between his temples a pressure began, and in the silence his voice was scarcely audible as in spite of himself he asked hoarsely: "what do you mean?" "history," answered pease slowly--never in his life before had he been deliberately cruel--"history, mr. ellis, has taught some valuable lessons, of which i should like to call two to your attention. one is that some great men meet their waterloo, the other that some little men have their--price!" something flashed before ellis's eyes, and in that flash he saw the whole treachery. his head dropped, his eyes closed, and his jaw shut convulsively. "price! price!" he hissed. then in an instant he stood upright and faced them without flinching. though he saw the whole meaning of the news, though he realised the power of the caste which, so long supine, at last had risen up against him, even though he knew he faced two great defeats, he looked upon his adversaries, and they saw courage in his glance. he turned to mather. "mather," said ellis, "you think you've got me." he felt, as that same quiet glance looked down on him, the continual irritation of it, the impossibility of ever attaining that superb indifference. and then the answer: "for the present i have." would they never boast, these aristocrats--never threaten? first, despising him, they had left him alone; even now when they turned on him they still looked down on him. a torrent of words rushed to his lips, and yet, feeling how powerless he was to impress those silent, attentive spectators, he checked himself. "for the present!" he repeated, and turned to go. in his unfamiliar surroundings he mistook the door and opened one leading into a little office where, facing him across a table, he saw--who was that? pale, intent, startled at his entrance, judith blanchard rose and confronted him. for a moment he stared as at a portent. then quickly he closed the door and turned to the men at his back. fenno and pease had started forward; with mather, they were the nearest to him. he eyed them one by one. "so," he said, pointing to the little room, "_that_ is why you are all here!" they made no answer. "because i wish to enter your homes, is it," he asked, "that you combine against me? because i nearly succeeded, i frightened you?" mather did not understand, pease and fenno had no reply to make, but ellis, feeling with pain that he had pronounced a truth against himself, waited for no answer. "but wait!" he cried, stamping. "i have avoided you, favoured you at times, but now i am against you in everything. i will go out of my way to meet you. what you wish, i shall oppose; what you build, i shall throw down; what you bring in, i shall throw out! for everything you win, you must pay; i will weary you of fighting. i will plan while you sleep, act while you rest, work while you play. your virtue shall be a load to you, and i will tire your vigilance!" he flung his phrases like bombs, to burst among his adversaries; casting his prophecies in their faces, he startled his opponents from their reserve. then, turning, he rushed from the office, leaving them staring at each other as if a whirlwind had passed. * * * * * one by one mather's supporters left the office, each renewing his promise of assistance, yet each subdued by the thoughts aroused by ellis's amazing words. for they recognised a challenge which would be hard to meet--to be as persistent in their efforts as ellis should be with his, to meet his subtlety, to foresee his plans, to counteract his influence, to expose his methods. and having businesses, having families, loving repose and pleasure, only the reformers, those modern puritans, could promise the self-denial necessary to meet ellis's unceasing activities. pease, fenno, and mather at last remained in the office. "tremendous!" sighed pease, breaking a period of thought which the departure of ellis had inaugurated for him. "tremendous!" repeated fenno. "are we equal to it?" asked mather seriously. mr. fenno recovered his cynicism. "sufficient to the day is its weevil," he answered. "grubs breed fast, but they can be killed. i am going home." the three put on their coats. "we are going the same way, i suppose?" mather remarked. "pease and i have something to talk over," replied mr. fenno. "yes we have, pease! none of your confounded straightforwardness. you must give us a start, george; five minutes' law, if you please. and i should like you to wait," he pointed to the door of the inner office, "in that room. good-evening." "good-evening," repeated pease, and followed mr. fenno out. thought mather: "what under the sun----" he opened the door of the little room. "judith!" there she sat and looked at him; on her cheeks were traces of tears, but her eyes were bright as they met his. he looked from her to the uncovered typewriter, the pencils and note-book. "so it was you," he said, "that ellis saw before he turned upon us so?" she nodded, looking on him silently. "what is it?" he asked, coming a step nearer. "you look--judith, are you ill?" suddenly she rose and held out her hands to him. "oh, george," she cried, "i am so glad for you!" "oh," he said, relieved, "i was afraid that--judith, you have been crying. is anything wrong? was the work hard?" she shook her head. "then this meeting has distressed you?" unashamed, she wiped her cheeks. "it is not that." "come to the window," he said, for the early twilight was falling. but when he studied her in the stronger light he saw nothing in her eyes except a resolute cheerfulness; the unwonted pink in her cheeks might be the reflection of the sunset glow. "nothing is wrong with me," she said, and took her jacket from the hook on the wall. "i suppose mr. fenno will not want me any more to-day, so i may as well go home." yet while mather helped her to put on the jacket, the knowledge that he was studying her set her nerves to trembling, and it was by an effort that she controlled herself. "you are under some strain," he said with decision. "did ellis frighten you?" she answered, "i have no fear of him." drawing her gloves from her pocket, she tried to put them on, but her hands trembled visibly. she abandoned the attempt at concealment, and turned to him. "it's just that i'm glad for you, george, and proud of you, and--i've been making an acknowledgment to myself, that's all. now shall we go home?" but he took her hand and kept her face toward the window. "i should like to hear that acknowledgment, if i may?" perhaps the colours deepened in the sky; at any rate, her cheeks grew rosier as she looked away from him, out above the roofs. "if you wish to know," she answered. "i wish it very much." she folded her hands before her tightly; they showed white against her dress. "no one else will hear," she began uncertainly, "although every one else heard your confession, george. i heard, and somehow you set me thinking of the time we met in the golf club, long ago, last april." "last april," he repeated, and added with meaning, "long ago." her voice grew stronger. "i will tell you everything," she said. "you will see what a foolish girl i have been--how proud i was. we spoke then of the world, and you warned me of it; you said that it was very big, and strong, and merciless." "i remember," mather said. "but i did not believe," judith went on. "i thought that you--you had just lost this presidency, george--i thought that you were cowed. and i thought that i was braver than you, and stronger than you, and i believed that i--i, george!--could conquer the world!" she made a little gesture of amazement at herself; gravely attentive, he did not speak. then she pointed down at her black dress, swept her hand toward the typewriter, and exclaimed: "and this is the result! but i know myself now, george, and i am glad you made me say this, for i want to beg your pardon." "there is no need of that," he answered. "then," she asked, "shall we go?" "not yet," he replied. but he continued looking at her without saying more, and to cover her embarrassment she said: "just let me tell you first that mr. fenno has engaged me permanently, and i feel that i have started a new life, george." she was attempting to be gay, a difficult task in the face of his continued serious scrutiny; but to her relief he spoke. "a new life? why, that leads to an old subject, judith. and what you have said makes me hope that some day i may begin a new life, too." "yours begins next week," she said, "with the stockholders' meeting." "it begins," he returned, "whenever you say the word." she turned abruptly aside from him and looked out of the window; there could now be no doubt whence came the colour that flooded her face and even touched her ears with coral. he came close to her side. "see," he said, pointing out the window. "the sun is going down. shall it not rise again on a new life for us both?" "george," she answered, "how can i marry any one?" "you are thinking," he asked, "of your debt to ellis?" she nodded. "how can i so burden you?" he laughed. "i can pay the money out of hand; i can earn it again in three years. jacob served seven years for rachel: will you not let me work a little while for you?" he tried to draw her to him. "judith! judith!" suddenly she turned and nestled to him. "oh, hold me!" she sobbed. "take care of me always!" chapter xxxiii contains another proposal of marriage, and settles an old score the whirling in ellis's head was ceasing, the blind restlessness was slowly leaving him. yet still he walked up and down in his library, unmindful of the call of hunger. for as his anger left him there grew in its place the unassuagable yearning which he was coming to know too well, and which he was ashamed that he could not master. for there had never been a desire which he could not crush, or a passion which he could not uproot, if they stood in the way of his purposes. in his courtship of judith he had taken care to suppress the feelings which, apart from his appreciation of her material value, occasionally threatened to interfere with his entirely deliberate progress in her regard and her father's favour. but now, when all was over, the little pains and longings which he had crushed down were constantly rising, and he who had been so self-sufficing was now lonely, he who had never paused to regret was often bowed with despair. and judith, judith was in his mind constantly; it was she who broke his sleep, spoiled his work, and had brought about his defeat. his rage at the disaster was not so deep as the disturbance which the sight of her had caused in him. but even that he would, he must, repress--or where would she, that pale girl, bring him? three times in the past month had this confusion of the faculties come upon him. wherever lay the cause, the result was too costly to be permitted to continue. he recognised the fits now; the next one that came he would meet at its beginning--and this one should end at once. what was he thinking of? his men must have the news already; they had come to the house and he had sent them away, playing the fool here by himself. well, he would go out and find them now, hearten them, and prepare at once for the long fight with which he had threatened his enemies. ah--and he ground his teeth with anticipation--he meant all that he had said. his faculties collected at last, he turned to the door, and met the cautious face of his butler. "a lady, sir," said the man, prepared to be damned from the room. he was relieved when his master said: "show her in." but the lady, having no intention of being turned away, was close behind. "very wise of you," she said, entering even as he spoke. "because i meant to come in anyway, stephen." "oh, it's you, lydia?" asked ellis, darting a look before which the butler retired. "what brings you?" mrs. harmon unwound the long scarf from her neck, and stood before him smiling. "an errand of mercy, to comfort the broken-hearted. come, don't scowl." she unbuckled her cloak, swung it from her shoulders, and tossed it on a chair. "there, how do you like me?" in spite of his mood he caught his breath. for she was dressed in black and adorned with pearls; the dress was cut so low that it more than suggested the charms which it concealed. and those which it revealed were perfect: the full and rosy throat, the shoulders, and the arms. the pearls set off the blackness of the dress, and took to themselves the warmth of her skin. for a moment ellis looked at her with pleasure, then he recovered himself. "full mourning, i see," he grunted. "don't be disagreeable," she returned. "it's my best and newest. come, say i never looked so well before." "you never did," he agreed. always lydia had dressed, he reflected, as much as she dared; now that she was free she evidently intended to go the limit. "it certainly becomes you," he added. "i may sit down?" she asked. "thanks. now, stephen, i want to talk business." "talk," he said, sitting before her. "it's about----" "this afternoon's news. oh, yes," as he turned his eyes away, "it's got to me already. some of your men, not getting in here, came to see me. how did it happen, stephen?" "price," he answered between his teeth. "by god, i----" the curse and the threat died away, and he sat staring at the carpet. "oh," she cried, "and i warned you of him!" "well," he growled, "it's over. i'm not looking back." she leaned toward him earnestly. "are you looking ahead? you're not giving up, are you?" "no!" he cried scornfully. "good!" she responded, relieved, but then she asked: "what has got into you? three times you've shut yourself up so." "never again," he assured her. "it's all over, lydia. i shall never spend any more time--regretting." "i thought so," she said. "it's judith?" "yes," he acknowledged savagely. "i've taken a little time to be a fool. now i'm over it." "if you are," she replied, "i'll tell you something." "what next?" he asked, his face darkening. "i went by the peases' at half-past five," she began slowly, watching him. "i was on the other side of the street. you know it's almost dark at that hour?" "oh, tell me!" he commanded. "i saw two people at the door," she went on more rapidly. "they were george mather and judith. they opened the door, the hall was lighted inside, and i saw their figures against the light. as they went in--it wasn't much, but he put his arm around her." ellis started abruptly from his chair, went to his desk, and stood looking down at it; his back was to her. "i thought you said you were over it," she remarked. as abruptly he returned and took his seat. "i expected that." "well," she asked, "and now what?" "work," he replied. "i can always have plenty of that." "work?" she repeated. "like the man in the novel who works to forget?" she pointed her finger at him, teasingly, and laughed. "stephen, i do believe you were in love with her!" he scowled his contempt at the weak phrase. in love with her! but then its central word struck home with the force of a new idea, and involuntarily he rose again from his seat. her laughter stopped; her gayety changed to alarm, for he was looking at her, but he saw nothing. "what is it?" she asked uneasily. love? love! he understood. "i loved her!" he said, and then added quietly, "i love her!" she bridled and looked down. "i too have been through that, stephen." but he stood staring before him. he loved!--and all was clear to him. thence came those pains, those harsh distresses, those unappeasable longings; thence the distraction which caused his failure. judith had set this poison in his blood. he laughed mirthlessly. how the girl had revenged herself! but he loved! relief came to him as he realised that no ordinary weakness, but the higher lot of man (so he had heard it called) was overpowering him. he had never been fond of any one in his life, and yet he loved! love! that was a passion he had never expected to meet; there was no shame in falling before it--and he felt in his pain even a fierce delight. he loved the girl! and now he knew he would never be the same man again--never could work so free of soul, never forget those high ideals of hers, nor be as mindless of the consequences of his acts. he smiled with scorn of himself as he saw how the tables had been turned on him. meaning to win the girl, to buy her, he had instead roused a conscience, and learned that there was purity in the world. this was what they meant, then, those hitherto inexplicable fits of his: that a new nature was trying to assert itself, that a terrible discontent was aroused, that his whole life had changed, and that within an unsuspected recess of his nature there was this open wound, unhealing, draining his strength. where then was his boast to his enemies, of what worth his threats? could he ever fight again as before, ever manage and plan? again he laughed scornfully. "you needn't laugh," complained mrs. harmon. "i do understand it all." "i wasn't laughing at you," he answered. "--well, forget all this, lydia. what is it i can do for you?" "will you forget all this?" she asked with meaning. "then look ahead with me for a while, stephen. you won't be president." "and i've lost my mayor," he added. "will it mean so much?" she asked, disappointed. "it's mather's year," he said decidedly. "everything's going his way; it happens so every once in a while in new york. then tammany lays low; so shall i. but in the end they come in again; so with me." "then, planning for the future," she began, but hesitated, stopped, and started differently. "i've suffered a good deal, in this past year. we haven't got anything we wished, either you or i." he wondered what brought her. "that is true," he said, not intending to commit himself. "i've suffered from judith as well as you," complained mrs. harmon. "she insulted me the other day; she isn't what i thought her, stephen." "nor what i thought," he said, waiting. "and the others," she went on, "turn me down, too. you would suppose that my position, and my loss--but they are colder to me than ever." she looked down. "look here," he said, "it isn't like you to be so mild, lydia. aren't you just a little mad, underneath?" "oh, i hate them all!" she burst out. she looked at him with flashing eyes, then asked directly, "do you, stephen?" "well, suppose i do; what then?" he asked, wishing her to show her hand. "i will leave them," said mrs. harmon with vigour. "so will you. and we will leave them together." "it won't be a formal leavetaking," he said, not understanding. "we just leave them, don't we?" "oh," she replied, "i can't bear just to drop out. i want them to understand that i've no more use for them." she looked to see if he comprehended, but he remained silent and his face showed nothing. "i've lost my husband," she said. "yes," he said, encouraging. "go on." she finished with an effort. "and you wanted--a wife?" "good god!" he said slowly. "i could be of use to you," she explained quickly. "more than judith. see how your men come to me for advice?" "your husband is but two months in his grave," he cried. "and you wear wayne's jewels at your throat!" "but i don't mean to do it at once," she said, aggrieved. "for a few months it could be--understood." "i see," he said, mastering his disgust. "anything more, lydia?" "and i should like to leave something to remember us by," she went on, taking confidence. "so that they shall feel that we aren't just beaten." "how will you do it?" "they are like a big family," she said. "hurt one, and the others are against you. i think they combined against you out of revenge for--judith, as much as to help mather." "perhaps," he commented. "they think a great deal of those two," she proceeded. "if we could hurt them we could anger all the others." "how do you propose to do it?" he inquired. "you have that note of hers," she said. "you said she could pay at her leisure, but----" she eyed him keenly. "stephen, i never believed that." "you are quite right," he acknowledged. "i could come down on her to-morrow for the money." he looked at mrs. harmon impassively, but she was satisfied. "then do!" she urged, rising. "i see," he said. "if her friends have to make up the money for her it puts her in the position of a beggar, makes her ridiculous, doesn't it?" "more than that," she said eagerly. "if people know she has signed a note to you, they will think, don't you see, and say things." his brows contracted, and from under them his eyes began to glow, characteristically. "what will they say?" he asked. "oh, there will be a great to-do, a quiet scandal, and under cover of it you--we retire with credit." "you have thought it all out very well," he said. "haven't i?" she asked complacently. "and i suppose," he said, "that i might as well begin to-morrow. in fact, i could send some kind of a summons to miss blanchard to-night." "any day, only soon," she agreed. "before the stockholders' meeting will be best." "now is the time," he said. he went to his desk, stooped over it, and wrote rapidly. then he brought her the paper. "will that do?" he had merely written: "with the best wishes of stephen f. ellis." "why," she began doubtfully. "oh, i see; you mean to be sarcastic. and what will you inclose with this?" he took the note from his pocket-book and showed it to her. "for fifteen thousand dollars, you see. and it is in legal form." "yes," she said with satisfaction. "you'll just remind her that you have it, and demand immediate payment?" "i will do this," he replied. he tore the note across, laid the pieces together, and tore them again, and once again. then he folded them with the paper on which he had written. "stephen!" she cried. he took an envelope from the desk and put the papers in. "and i send it all to her. now perhaps you understand?" his tone was suddenly fierce, and as he approached her she backed away. "why----" she said, astonished. "that was a good idea of yours," he sneered, standing close to her. "between us, we could smirch her name. you to do the talking, of course." he snatched her wrist and pushed his face close to hers. "have you told any one i held that note?" "no!" she answered, frightened. "the truth!" he insisted. "no one; no one!" she replied. he cast her hand away, and stepped back. "if you tell any one, with that damned tongue of yours, lydia, i'll have your blood!" "i will never tell!" she protested, thoroughly cowed. he turned away from her. "let them tell if they wish," he said over his shoulder. "they won't, to save the colonel's reputation; but if they do--you keep quiet. fool i was to tell you!" he went to the desk again, and took up his pen to address the envelope. "good-night, lydia," he said absently. "but, stephen!" she began to plead. "don't provoke me," he interrupted, pausing with his pen poised. "don't provoke me, lydia." as she did not move, he turned on her. "confound it, go!" she dared not say a word to anger him further; she feared even to look her disgust, lest she should cut herself off from him forever. taking her cloak and scarf, she went to the door; she paused there for an instant, only to see with fury that he had turned again to the desk and was writing. white with rage at her failure, she went away. but ellis was at peace with himself, and looked the future in the face. he loved, he would suffer, he did not even wish to forget. deliberately he left the house and walked to the pease homestead. he rang the bell, gave to the servant his missive for judith, and for a full minute after the door closed he stood on the sidewalk, looking at the lighted windows of the house. but then, shivering, he drew his coat closely around him, and hurried away from that abode of happiness. * * * * * transcriber's note: original spelling has been retained. original hyphenation has been retained, even where inconsistent; e.g. both "golf-club" and "golf club" occur. the following printer's errors have been corrected: page 35, "kuckle" changed to "knuckle". (yet she hated to knuckle to them;) page 36, "roue" changed to "roué" (girls more or less innocent danced with men more or less roué;) page 48, missing period inserted ("but," he explained, "it must have permanently bettered and improved you.") page 92, quotation marks matched ("yes, sir.' changed to "yes, sir.") page 99, missing period inserted (no, i will try to write without practising.) page 100, "word" changed to "work" (but when his day's work was over) page 172, it's corrected to its (all its beauty conceals a threat) and (its only purpose) page 181, extra quotation mark removed from middle of quote. ("this lunch was better than i expected. we must meet here again, some day.") page 252, quotation marks matched ("i thought you loved me?' changed to "i thought you loved me?") page 258, quotation marks matched ('we have no property ... to him?" changed to "we have no property ... to him?") up-to-date business home study circle library edited by seymour eaton up to date business including lessons in banking, exchange, business geography, finance, transportation and commercial law from the chicago record new york the doubleday & mcclure co. 1900 copyright, 1897, 1898, 1899, by the chicago record copyright, 1899 by seymour eaton copyright, 1899, 1900, by victor f. lawson contents i general business information page i. commercial terms and usages 3 ii. commercial terms and usages (_continued_) 4 iii. bank cheques 6 iv. bank cheques (_continued_) 8 v. bank cheques (_continued_) 12 vi. bank drafts 15 vii. promissory notes 18 viii. the clearing-house system 21 ix. commercial drafts 26 x. foreign exchange 31 xi. letters of credit 37 xii. joint-stock companies 41 xiii. protested paper 46 xiv. paper offered for discount 49 xv. corporations 51 xvi. bonds 54 xvii. transportation 57 xviii. transportation papers 59 examination paper 64 ii business geography trade features i. the trade features of the british isles 69 ii. the trade features of france 94 iii. " " " " germany 102 iv. " " " " spain and italy 111 v. " " " " russia 120 vi. " " " " india 129 vii. " " " " china 139 viii. " " " " japan 148 ix. " " " " africa 157 x. " " " " australia and australasia 166 xi. " " " " south america 177 xii. " " " " canada 187 xiii. " " " " the united states 194 examination paper 210 iii finance, trade, and transportation i. national and state banks 215 ii. savings banks and trust companies 221 iii. corporations and stock companies 225 iv. borrowing and loaning money 228 v. collaterals and securities 233 vi. cheques, drafts, and bills of exchange 240 vii. the clearing-house system 248 viii. commercial credits and mercantile agencies 254 ix. bonds 263 x. transportation by rail 267 xi. freight transportation 274 xii. railroad rates 281 xiii. stock and produce exchanges 288 xiv. storage and warehousing 294 examination paper 301 iv commercial law i. the different kinds of contracts 309 ii. the parties to a contract 312 iii. the parties to a contract (_continued_) 315 iv. the consideration in contracts 318 v. the essentials of a contract 321 vi. contracts by correspondence 326 vii. what contracts must be in writing 332 viii. contracts for the sale of merchandise 336 ix. the warranties of merchandise 340 x. common carriers 344 xi. the carrying of passengers 347 xii. on the keeping of things 350 xiii. concerning agents 353 xiv. the law relating to bank cheques 358 xv. the law relating to leases 363 xvi. liability of employers to employés 369 xvii. liability of employers to employés (_continued_) 373 examination paper 377 v preparing copy for the press and proof-reading i. preparing copy 381 ii. on the names and sizes of type 382 iii. the terms used in printing 384 iv. marks used in proof-reading 387 illustrations i general business information page a poorly drawn cheque 7 a carefully drawn cheque 8 a cheque drawn so as to insure payment to proper party 9 a cheque payable to order 11 a blank indorsement 11 a cheque made to obtain money for immediate use 13 a certified cheque 14 a cheque for the purchase of a draft 16 a bank draft 17 ordinary form of promissory note 18 a promissory note filled out in an engraved blank 19 a special form for a promissory note 20 the advantages of the clearing-house system 22 the route of a cheque 24 backs of two paid cheques 25 a sight draft developed from letter 27 a sight draft 28 an accepted ten-day sight draft 28 an accepted sight draft 29 a time draft 29 foreign exchange 32 a bill of exchange (private) 35 a bill of exchange (banker's) 36 first page of a letter of credit 38 second page of a letter of credit 40 a certificate of stock in a national bank 42 a certificate of stock in a manufacturing company 43 a protest 48 a private bond 55 a shipping receipt ("original") 60 a steamship bill of lading 61 a local waybill 62 ii business geography london the natural centre of the world's trade 72 british mercantile marine 74 london bridge 76 the coal-fields of england 80 the manchester ship canal 84 the great manufacturing districts of england 88 france compared in size with the states of illinois and texas 95 street scene in paris, showing the bourse 97 approximate size of the german empire 104 north central germany, showing the ship canal and the leading commercial centres 109 spain compared in size with california 113 italy and its chief commercial centres 117 russia, the british empire, and the united states compared 121 moscow 127 comparative sizes of india and the united states 133 china and its chief trade centres 145 japan's relation to eastern asia 155 the partition of africa 159 australia 171 the most prosperous part of south america 183 trade centres of canada and trunk railway lines 192 export trade of united states and great britain compared 198 united states manufactures and internal trade compared with the manufactures and internal trade of all other countries 199 principal articles of domestic exports of the united states 205 iii finance, trade, and transportation the bank of england 216 showing cheque raised from $7.50 to $70.50 241 a certified cheque 244 a bank draft 245 a bill of exchange 246 illustrating cheque collections 252 a mercantile agency inquiry form 259 specimens of interest coupons 266 judge thomas m. cooley, first chairman of the interstate commerce commission 287 the paris bourse 289 interior view of new york stock exchange 290 v preparing copy for the press and proof-reading a printer's proof 390 a printer's corrected proof 391 general business information i. commercial terms and usages [illustration] there is a distinction between the usage of the names commerce and business. the interchange of products and manufactured articles between countries, or even between different sections of the same country, is usually referred to as _commerce_. the term _business_ refers more particularly to our dealings at home--that is, in our own town or city. sometimes this name is used in connection with a particular product, as the _coal_ business or the _lumber_ business, or in connection with a particular class, as the _dry-goods_ business or the _grocery_ business. the name _commerce_, however, seldom admits of a limited application. in the united states trade is synonymous with _business_. the word traffic applies more especially to the conveyance than to the exchange of products; thus we refer to _railroad_ traffic or _lake_ traffic. products, when considered articles of trade, are called _merchandise, goods, wares_. the term merchandise has the widest meaning, and includes all kinds of movable articles bought or sold. goods is applied more particularly to the supplies of a merchant. wares is commonly applied to utensils, as _glassware_, _hardware_, etc. gross commonly means coarse or bulky. in trade it is used with reference to both money and goods. the _gross_ weight of a package includes the weight of the case or wrappings. the larger sum in an account or bill--that is, the sum of money before any allowance or deductions are made--is the _gross_ amount of the bill. the word net is derived from a latin word meaning neat, clean, unadulterated, and indicates the amount of goods or money after all the deductions have been made. to say that a price is _net_ is to indicate that no further discount will be made. the word firm relates to solidity, establishment, strength, and in a business sense signifies two or more persons united in partnership for the purpose of trading. the word house is very frequently used in the same sense. in mercantile usage _house_ does not mean the building in which the business is conducted, but the men who own the business, including, perhaps, the building, stock, plant, and business reputation. the name concern is often used in a very similar way. the name market expresses a locality for the sale of goods, and in commerce is often used to denote cities or even countries. we say that boston is a leather market, meaning that a large number of boston merchants buy and sell leather. in the same sense we call chicago a grain market, or new orleans a cotton market. in its more restricted sense the name _market_ signifies a building or place where meat or produce is bought and sold. we say that the _market is flooded_ with a particular article when dealers are carrying more of that article than they can find sale for. there is _no market_ for any product when there is no demand. the money market is _tight_ or _close_ when it is difficult to borrow money from banks and money-lenders. ii. commercial terms and usages (_continued_) the natural resources of a country are mainly the mineral commodities and agricultural produce that it yields. the lumber and fish produced in a country are also among its natural resources. the positions and industries of cities are usually fixed by natural conditions, but the most powerful agent is the personal energy of enterprising and persevering men, who, by superior education, or scientific knowledge, or practical foresight, have often been able to found industrial centres in situations which no geographical considerations would suggest or explain. commission merchants receive and sell goods belonging to others for a compensation called a commission. a selling agent is a person who represents a manufacturing establishment in its dealings with the trade. the factory may be located in a small town, while the selling agent has his office and samples in the heart of a great city. as regards the quantity of goods bought or sold in a single transaction, trade is divided into wholesale and retail. the wholesale dealer sells to other dealers, while the retail dealer sells to the consumer--that is, the person who _consumes_, or uses, the goods. a jobber is one who buys from importers and manufacturers and sells to retailers. he is constantly in the market for bargains. the names jobber and wholesaler are often used in the same sense, but a jobber sometimes sells to wholesalers. wholesale has reference to the quantity the dealer sells, and not to the source from which he buys, or the person to whom he sells. the wholesaler, as a rule, deals in staples--that is, goods which are used season after season--though of course there are wholesalers in practically all businesses. wholesale dealers send out travellers or drummers, who carry samples of the goods. frequently the traveller starts out with his samples from six months to a year in advance of the time of delivery. it is quite a common thing for the retailer to order from samples merchandise which at the time of placing the order may not even be manufactured. by the price of a commodity is meant its value estimated in money, or the amount of money for which it will exchange. the exchangeable value of commodities depends at any given period partly upon the expense of production and partly upon the relation of supply and demand. prices are affected by the creation of monopolies, by the opening of new markets, by the obstructing of the ordinary channels of commercial intercourse, and by the anticipation of these and other causes. it is the business of the merchant to acquaint himself with every circumstance affecting the prices of the goods in which he deals. the entire world is the field of the modern merchant. he buys raw and manufactured products wherever he can buy cheapest, and he ships to whatever market pays him the highest price. our corner grocer or produce-dealer may furnish us with beef from texas, potatoes from egypt, celery from michigan, onions from jamaica, coffee from java, oranges from spain, and a hundred other things from as many different points; and yet, so complete is the interlocking of the world's commercial interests, and so great is the speed of transportation, that he can supply us with these necessaries under existing conditions more easily and readily than if they were all grown on an adjoining farm. iii. bank cheques a cheque is an order for money, drawn by one who has funds in the bank. it is payable on demand. in reality, it is a _sight draft_ on the bank. banks provide blank cheques for their customers, and it is a very simple matter to fill them out properly. in writing in the amount begin at the extreme left of the line. the illustration given below shows a poorly written cheque and one which could be very easily _raised_. a fraudulent receiver could, for instance write, "_ninety_" before the "_six_" and "9" before the figure "6," and in this way raise the cheque from $6 to $96. if this were done and the cheque cashed, the maker, and not the bank, would become responsible for the loss. you cannot hold other people responsible for your own carelessness. a cheque has been raised from $100 to $190 by writing the words "_and ninety_" after the words "_one hundred_." one of the ciphers in the figures was changed to a "9" by adding a tail to it. it is wise to draw a running line, thus ~~~~~~, after the amount in words, thus preventing any additional writing. [illustration: a poorly drawn cheque.] the illustration on page 8 shows a cheque carefully and correctly drawn. the signature should be in your usual style, familiar to the paying teller. sign your name the same way all the time. have a characteristic signature, as familiar to your friends as is your face. a cheque is a draft or order upon your bank, and it need not necessarily be written in the prescribed form. such an order written on a sheet of note-paper with a lead-pencil might be in every way a legally good cheque. [illustration: a carefully drawn cheque.] usually cheques should be drawn "_to order_." the words "_pay to the order of john brown_" mean that the money is to be paid to john brown, or to any person that he _orders_ it paid to. if a cheque is drawn "_pay to john brown or bearer_" or simply "_pay to bearer_," any person that is the bearer can collect it. the paying teller may ask the person presenting the cheque to write his name on the back, simply to have it for reference. in writing and signing cheques use good black ink and let the copy dry a little before a blotter is used. _the subject of indorsements will be treated in a subsequent lesson._ iv. bank cheques (_continued_) the banks of this country make it a rule not to cash a cheque that is drawn payable to order, unless the person presenting the cheque is known at the bank, or unless he satisfies the paying teller that he is really the person to whom the money should be paid. it must be remembered however, that a cheque drawn to order and then indorsed in blank by the payee is really payable to bearer, and if the paying teller is satisfied that the payee's signature is genuine he will not likely hesitate to cash the cheque. in england all cheques apparently properly indorsed are paid without identification. [illustration: a cheque drawn so as to insure payment to proper party.] in drawing a cheque in favour of a person not likely to be well known in banking circles, write his address or his business after his name on the face of the cheque. for instance, if you should send a cheque to john brown, st. louis, it might possibly fall into the hands of the wrong john brown; but if you write the cheque in favour of "john brown, 246 west avenue, st. louis," it is more than likely that the right person will collect it. if you wish to get a cheque cashed where you are unknown, and it is not convenient for a friend who has an account at the bank to go with you for the purpose of identification, ask him to place his signature on the back of your cheque, and you will not likely have trouble in getting it cashed at the bank where your friend keeps his account. by placing his signature upon the back of the cheque he guarantees the bank against loss. a bank is responsible for the signatures of its depositors, but it cannot be supposed to know the signatures of indorsers. the reliable identifier is in reality the person who is responsible. indorsing cheques in indorsing cheques note the following points: 1. write across the back--not lengthwise. 2. if your indorsement is the first, write it about two inches from the top of the back; if it is not the first indorsement, write immediately under the last indorsement. 3. do not indorse wrong end up; the top of the back is the left end of the face. 4. write your name as you are accustomed to write it, no matter how it is written on the face. if you are depositing the cheque write or stamp "for deposit" or "pay to ______bank______," as may be the custom, over your signature. this is hardly necessary if you are taking the cheque yourself to the bank. a cheque with a simple or blank indorsement on the back is payable to bearer, and if lost the finder might succeed in collecting it; but if the words "for deposit" appear over the name the bank officials understand that the cheque is intended to be deposited, and they will not cash it. 5. if you wish to make the cheque payable to some particular person by indorsing, write "pay to ______(name)______ or order," and under this write your own name as you are accustomed to sign it. 6. do not carry around indorsed cheques loosely. such cheques are payable to bearer and may be collected by any one. 7. if you receive a cheque which has been transferred to you by a blank indorsement (name of indorser only), and you wish to hold it a day or two, write over the indorsement the words "pay to the order of (yourself--writing your own name)." this is allowable legally. the cheque cannot then be collected until you indorse it. [illustration: a cheque payable to order and a blank indorsement.] 8. an authorised stamped indorsement is as good as a written one. whether such indorsements are accepted or not depends upon the regulations of the clearing-house in the particular city in which they are offered for deposit. the written indorsement is considered safer for transmission of out-of-town collections. 9. if you are indorsing for a company, or society, or corporation, write first the name of the company (this may be stamped on) and then your own name, followed by the word "treas." 10. if you have power of attorney to indorse for some particular person, write his name, followed by your own, followed by the word "attorney" or "atty.," as it is usually written. 11. it is sometimes permissible to indorse the payee's name thus, "by ______(your own name)." this may be done by a junior member of a concern when the person authorised to indorse cheques is absent and the cheques are deposited and not cashed. 12. do not write any unnecessary information on the back of your cheque. a story is told of a woman who received a cheque from her husband, and when cashing it wrote "your loving wife" above her name on the back. v. bank cheques (_continued_) if you wish to draw money from your own account, the most approved form of cheque is written "pay to the order of _cash_." this differs from a cheque drawn to "_bearer_." the paying teller expects to see yourself, or some one well known to him as your representative, when you write "cash." if you write "pay to the order of (_your own name_)" you will be required to indorse your cheque before you can get it cashed. if your note is due at your own bank and you wish to draw a cheque in payment, write "pay to the order of _bills payable_." if you wish to write a cheque to draw money for wages, write "pay to the order of _pay-roll_." if you wish to write a cheque to pay for a draft which you are buying, write "pay to the order of _n. y. draft and exchange_," or whatever the circumstances may call for. [illustration: a cheque made to obtain money for immediate use.] if you wish to stop the payment of a cheque which you have issued you should notify the bank at once, giving full particulars. banks have a custom, after paying and charging cheques, of cancelling them by punching or making some cut through their face. these cancelled cheques are returned to the makers at the end of each month. if you have deposited a cheque and it is returned through your bank marked "_no funds_," it signifies that the cheque is worthless and that the person upon whose account it was drawn has no funds to meet it. your bank will charge the amount to your account. the best thing to do in such a case is to hold the cheque as evidence of the debt, and write the person who sent it to you, giving particulars and asking for an explanation. if you wish to use your cheque to pay a note due at some other bank, or in buying real estate, or stocks, or bonds, you may find it necessary to get the cheque _certified_. this is done by an officer of the bank, who writes or stamps across the face of the cheque the words "_certified"_ or "_good when properly indorsed_," and signs his name. (_see illustration._) the amount will immediately be deducted from your account, and the bank, by guaranteeing your cheque, becomes responsible for its payment. banks will usually certify any cheque drawn upon them if the depositor has the amount called for to his credit, no matter who presents the cheque, and this certifying makes it feasible for a man to carry in his pocket any amount of actual cash. if you should get a cheque certified and then not use it, deposit it in your bank, otherwise your account will be short the amount for which the cheque is drawn. in canada all cheques are presented to the "ledger-keeper" for certification before being presented to the paying teller. [illustration: a certified cheque.] the usefulness of banks banks are absolutely necessary to the success of modern commercial enterprises. they provide a place for the safe-keeping of money and securities, and they make the payment of bills much more convenient than if currency instead of cheques were the more largely used. but the great advantage of a banking institution to a business man is the opportunity it affords him of borrowing money, of securing cash for the carrying on of his business while his own capital is locked up in merchandise or in the hands of his debtors. another important advantage is to be found in the facilities afforded by banks for the collection of cheques, notes, and drafts. vi. bank drafts a draft is a formal demand for the payment of money. your bank cheque is your sight draft on your bank. it is not so stated, but it is so understood. a cheque differs from an ordinary commercial draft, both in its wording and in its purpose. the bank is obliged to pay your cheque if it holds funds of yours sufficient to meet it, while the person upon whom your draft is drawn may or may not honour it at his pleasure. a cheque is used for paying money to a creditor, while a draft is used as a means of collecting money from a debtor. nearly all large banks keep money on deposit with one or more of the banks located in the great commercial centres. they call these centrally located banks their _correspondents_. the larger banks have correspondents in new york, chicago, boston, and other large cities. as business men keep money on deposit with banks to meet their cheques, so banks keep money on deposit with other banks to meet their drafts. a bank draft is simply the bank's cheque, drawn upon its deposit with some other bank. banks sell these cheques to their customers, and merchants make large use of them in paying bills in distant cities. these drafts, or cashiers' cheques, as they are sometimes called, pass as cash anywhere within a reasonable distance of the money centre upon which they are drawn. bankers' drafts on new york would, under ordinary financial conditions, be considered cash anywhere in the united states. a draft on a foreign bank is usually called a bill of exchange. [illustration: a cheque for the purchase of a draft.] cheques have come to be quite generally used for the payment of bills even at long distances. if a business man desires to close an important contract requiring cash in advance he sends a bank draft, if at a distance, or a certified cheque, if in the same city. if he desires simply to pay a debt he sends his own personal cheque. bank drafts are quite generally used by merchants in the west to pay bills in the east. a draft on new york bought in san francisco is cash when it reaches new york, while a san francisco cheque is not cash until it returns and is cashed by the bank upon which it is drawn. in the ordinary course of business cheques are considered cash no matter upon what bank drawn. the bank receiving them on deposit gives the depositor credit at once, even though it may take a week before the value represented by the cheque is in the possession of the bank. [illustration: a bank draft.] all wholesale transactions and a large proportion of retail transactions are completed by the passing of instruments of credit--notes, cheques, drafts, etc.; a part only of the retail trade is conducted by actual currency-bills and "change." banks handle the bulk of these transferable titles and deal to a very small extent--that is, proportionally--in actual money. the notes, drafts, bills of exchange, and bank cheques are representative of the property passing by title in money from the producers to the consumers. a small proportion--perhaps six or eight per cent.--of these transactions is conducted by the use of actual bank or legal-tender notes. this trade in instruments of credit amounts in the united states to fifty billions of dollars yearly. vii. promissory notes [illustration: ordinary form of promissory note.] a promissory note is a written promise to pay a specified sum of money. at the time of the note's issue--that is, when signed and delivered--two parties are connected with it, the _maker_ and the _payee_. the maker is the person who signs or promises to pay the note; the payee is the person to whom or to whose order the note is made payable. negotiable in a commercial sense means _transferable_, and a negotiable note is a note which can be transferred from one person to another. a note to be made negotiable must contain the word _bearer_ or the word _order_--that is, it must be payable either _to bearer_, or _to the order_ of the payee. a non-negotiable note is payable to a particular person _only_. a note may be written on any kind of paper, in ink or pencil. it is wise, however, to use ink to prevent changes. all stationers sell blank forms for notes which are easily filled in. the samples of notes which appear in this lesson are selected simply to illustrate to students the fact that there are a great many special forms of notes in common use. the wording differs slightly in different states. the date of a note is a matter of the first importance. some bankers and business men consider it better to draw notes payable at a certain fixed time, as, "_i promise to pay on the 10th of march, 1897_." the common custom is to make notes payable a certain number of days or months after date. a note made or issued on sunday is void. the day of maturity is the day upon which a note becomes legally due. in several of the states a note is not legally due until three days, called days of grace, after the expiration of the time specified in the note. [illustration: a promissory note filled out on an engraved blank.] the words value received, which usually appear upon notes, are not necessary legally. thousands of good notes made without any value consideration are handled daily. the promise to pay of a negotiable note must be unconditional. it cannot be made to depend upon any contingency whatever. notes that are made in settlement of genuine business transactions come under the head of regular, legitimate business paper. an accommodation note is one which is signed, or indorsed, simply as an accommodation, and not in settlement of an account or in payment of an indebtedness. with banks accommodation paper has a deservedly hard reputation. however, there are all grades and shades of accommodation paper, though it represents no actual business transaction between the parties to it, and rests upon no other foundation than that of mutual agreement. no contract is good without a consideration, but this is only true between the original parties to a note. the third party or innocent receiver or holder of a note has a good title, and can recover its value, even though it was originally given without a valuable consideration. an innocent holder of a note which had been originally lost or stolen has a good title to it if he received it for value. [illustration: a special form for a promissory note.] a note does not draw interest until after maturity, unless the words with interest appear on the face. notes draw interest after maturity and until paid, at the legal rate. a note should be presented for payment upon the exact day of maturity. notes made payable at a bank, or at any other place, must be presented for payment at the place named. when no place is specified the note is payable at the maker's place of business or at his residence. in finding the date of maturity it is important to remember that when a note is drawn _days after date_ the actual days must be counted, and when drawn _months after date_ the time is reckoned by months. to discount a note is to sell it at a discount. the rates of discount vary according to the security offered, or the character of the loan, or the state of the money market. for ordinary commercial paper the rates run from four to eight per cent. notes received and given by commercial houses and discounted by banks are not usually for a longer period than four months. viii. the clearing-house system in large cities cheques representing millions of dollars are deposited in the banks every day. the separate collection of these would be almost impossible were it not for the clearing-house system. each large city has its clearing-house. it is an establishment formed by the banks themselves, and for their own convenience. the leading banks of a city connect themselves with the clearing-house of that city, and through other banks with the clearing-houses of other cities, particularly new york. country banks connect themselves with one or more clearing-houses through city banks, which do their business for them. the new york banks, largely through private bankers, branches of foreign banking houses, connect themselves with london, so that each bank in the world is connected indirectly with every other bank in the world, and in london is the final clearing-house of the world. [illustration: the advantages of the clearing-house system.] suppose that the above diagram represents the banks and clearing-house of a city, and also the two business houses of brown and smith. brown keeps his money on deposit in bank e, and smith in bank b. brown sends (by mail) a cheque to smith in payment of a bill. now, smith can come all the way to bank e, and, if he is properly identified, can collect the cheque. he does not do this, however, but deposits brown's cheque in bank b, the bank where he does his banking business. now, b cannot send to e to get the money. it could do this, perhaps, if it had only one cheque, but it has taken in hundreds of cheques, some, perhaps, on every bank in town, and on many banks out of town. it would take a hundred messengers to collect them. so, instead of b's going to e, they meet half-way, or at a central point called a clearing-house, and there collect their cheques. b may have $5000 in cheques on e, and e may have $4000 in cheques on b, so that the exchange can be made--that is, the cheques can be paid by e paying the difference of $1000, which is done, not direct, but through the officers of the clearing-house. now bank e's messenger carries brown's cheque back with him and enters it up against brown's account. this in simple language is the primary idea of the clearing-house. the clearings in new york in one day amount to from one to two hundred millions of dollars. by clearings we mean the value of the cheques which are _cleared_--that is, which change hands through the clearing-house. usually once a week (in some cities oftener) the banks of a city make to their clearing-house a report, based on daily balances, of their condition. [illustration: the route of a cheque.] to illustrate the connection between banks at distant points let us suppose that b of media, pennsylvania, who keeps his money on deposit in the first national bank of media, sends a cheque in payment of a bill to k of south evanston, illinois. k deposits the cheque in the citizens bank of his town and receives immediate credit for it upon his bank-book, just the same as though the cheque were drawn upon the same or a near-by bank. the citizens bank simply sends the cheque, with other distant cheques, to its correspondent, the national bank of the republic, chicago, on deposit, in many instances in about the same sense that k deposited the cheque in the citizens bank. the national bank of the republic sends the cheque, with other cheques, to its new york correspondent, the national park bank. it may possibly send to philadelphia direct, or even to media; but this is very unlikely. the national park bank sends the cheque to its philadelphia correspondent, say the penn national bank. now the clearing-house clerk of the penn national carries the cheque to the philadelphia clearing-house and enters it, with other cheques, on the first national of media. custom, however, differs very greatly in this particular. many near-by country banks clear through city banks; others clear less directly. if the first national bank of philadelphia is known at the clearing-house as the representative of the first national bank of media it likely has money belonging to this media bank on deposit. in that case the cheque is charged up against the account of the first national of philadelphia. this bank then sends the cheque to the first national of media, by which it is charged up against b. this system of collection of cheques is about as perfect as is the post-office system of carrying registered mail. [illustration: backs of two paid cheques.] now, the banks and clearing-houses through which the cheque passes on its way _home_ stamp their indorsements and other information upon the back. our illustration shows the backs of two cheques which have "travelled." millions of dollars are collected by banks daily in this way, and all without expense to their customers. it is estimated that these collections cost the new york city banks more than two million dollars a year in loss of interest while the cheques are _en route_. ten thousand collection letters are sent out daily by the banks of new york city alone. ix. commercial drafts a commercial draft bears a close resemblance to a letter from one person to another requesting that a certain sum of money be paid to the person who calls, or to the bank or firm for whom he is acting. for instance, the draft shown in the first illustration might be worded something like this: _st. louis, mo., feb. 22, 1899._ _mr. robert elsmere,_ _jefferson city, mo._ _my dear sir:_ _will you kindly pay to the messenger from the ---bank who will call to-morrow the sum of three hundred and ninety-seven dollars and charge to my account?_ _yours, very truly,_ _david grieve._ [illustration: a sight draft developed from the above letter.] commercial usage, however, recognises a particular form in which this letter is to be written, and the address of the person for whom it is intended is usually written at the lower left-hand corner instead of on an envelope. commercial drafts usually reach the persons upon whom they are drawn through the medium of the banks rather than directly by mail. let us illustrate. suppose that a of chicago owes b of buffalo $200, and b desires to collect the amount by means of a draft. he fills in a blank draft, signs it, and addresses it on the lower left-hand corner to a. instead of sending it by mail he takes it to his bank--that is, deposits it for collection. it will reach a chicago bank in about the same way that cheques for collection go from one place to another. a messenger from the chicago bank will carry the draft to a's office and present it for payment or for acceptance. if it is a _sight_ draft--that is, a draft payable when a sees it--he may give cash for it at once and take the draft as his receipt. if he has not the money convenient he may write across the face "accepted, payable at (his) bank," as in the illustration. it will then reach his bank and be paid as his personal cheque would be, and should be entered in his cheque-book. banks usually give one day upon sight drafts. the draft will not be presented a second time, but will be held at the bank until the close of the banking hours the next day, where a can call to pay if he chooses. leniency in the matter of time will depend largely upon b's instructions and the bank's attitude toward a. if the draft is a time draft--that is, if b gives a time, a certain number of days, in which to pay it--a, if he wishes to pay the draft, _accepts_ it. he does this by writing the word _accepted_ with the date and his signature across the face of the draft. he may make it payable at his bank as he would a note, if he so desires. he then returns the draft to the messenger, and if the time is long the draft is returned to b; if only a few days, the bank holds it for collection. [illustration: no. 1. a sight draft.] [illustration: no. 2. an accepted ten-day sight draft.] [illustration: no. 3. an accepted sight draft.] [illustration: no. 4. a time draft.] an accepted draft is really a promissory note, though it is more often called an _acceptance_. when a man pays or accepts a draft he is said to _honour_ it. in the foregoing illustration a is not obliged either to pay or to accept the draft. it is not binding upon him any more than a letter would be. he can refuse payment just as easily and as readily as he could decline to pay a collector who calls for payment of a bill. of course, if a man habitually refuses to honour legitimate drafts it may injure his credit with banks and business houses. it is a very common thing to collect distant accounts by means of commercial drafts. a debtor is more likely to meet--that is, _to pay_--a draft than he is to reply to a letter and inclose his cheque. it is really more convenient, and safer, too, for there is some risk in sending personal cheques through the mail. there are some houses that make all their payments by cheques, while there are others which prefer to have their creditors at a distance draw on them for the amounts due. if a business man who has been accustomed to honour drafts continues for a period to dishonour them, the banks through which the drafts pass naturally conclude that he is unable to meet his liabilities. some houses deposit their drafts for collection in their home banks, while others have a custom of sending them direct to some bank in or near the place where the debtor resides. if the place is a very small one the collection is sometimes made through one of the express companies. when goods are sold for distinct periods of credit, and it is generally understood that maturing accounts are subject to sight drafts, there should be no need of notifying the debtor in advance. some houses, however, make a general custom of sending notices ten days in advance, stating that a draft will be drawn if cheque is not received in the meantime. notice the illustrations. the protest notice at the left of nos. 1, 2, and 4 is intended for the bank presenting the draft for payment. the reason for this will be fully explained in our lesson on protested paper. (see lesson xiii.) no. 2 shows an accepted draft payable to the order of a bank in the city upon which it is drawn. no. 1 is payable to the order of a bank in the city of the drawer. no. 3 is a sight draft payable to the order of a bank and accepted payable at a bank. no. 4 is a time draft payable to "_ourselves_"--that is, the pennsylvania steel company. drafts are often discounted at banks before acceptance where the credit of the drawer is good. in such cases the drafts which are dishonoured are charged up against the drawer's account. x. foreign exchange it is quite in order that we should follow lessons on the clearing-house and commercial drafts with a lesson on foreign exchange. we learned in the last lesson that commercial drafts are made use of to facilitate the collection of accounts. they are simply formal demands for the payment of legitimate debts. when these formal demands are made upon foreign debtors they are called bills of exchange; and the process of buying and selling these drafts, the drafts themselves, and the fluctuations in price, all are included in the general name _exchange_. [illustration: foreign exchange.] to illustrate the principles of exchange let us suppose that the following transactions have occurred: 1. c of boston has sold goods, £2000, to h of hamburg. 2. d of chicago has sold goods, £5000, to f of glasgow. 3. m of chicago has sold goods, £3000, to k of london. 4. e of philadelphia has sold goods, £6000, to r of paris. 5. p of new york has sold goods, £1000, to g of paris. c draws on h for £2000, sells the draft to a banking-house in boston; they send to bank a of new york, and the new york bank to their london correspondent, say bank b, with instructions to collect from hamburg. d draws in a similar way on f. e draws on r, and p on g. suppose that m instead of drawing on k receives a draft drawn by bank b of london on bank a of new york, payable to m's order. america has sold goods worth £17,000 to europe. europe . . . . . . owes £17,000 to . . . . . . america but b has paid a £3000. -------------- b . . . . . . therefore owes £14,000 to . . . . . . a now it will cost b a considerable sum of money to ship £14,000 in gold to a, for all exchanges between europe and america are payable in gold. suppose that s of new york owes t of london £14,000, and t draws on s and takes the draft to bank b in london and offers it for sale. will b offer more or less than £14,000 for the bill of exchange or draft? he will offer more. it will be cheaper for him to pay a premium for the draft than to ship gold, for he can send this draft to bank a to pay his indebtedness, and a can collect from s. in the money market in new york there is a constant supply of exchanges (drafts) on london, and in london a constant supply of exchanges on new york. experience has shown that at all times the number of persons in europe indebted to american business houses is about (though of course not actually) the same as the number of persons in america indebted to european houses. hence when a of new york wishes to make a payment to b of london he does not send the actual money, but goes into the market--that is, to a banker doing a foreign business--and buys a draft, called a bill of exchange, which is in reality the banker's order on his london correspondent, asking the latter to pay the money to the person named. it may be that about the same time some london merchant who owes money in new york goes to the very same london banker and buys a draft on the new york bank. in this way the one draft cancels the other, and when there is a difference at the end of the week or month the actual gold is sent across to balance the account. these exchanges have a sort of commodity value, and like all commodities, depend upon the law of supply and demand. when gold is being shipped abroad we say that the balance of trade is against us--that is, we are buying more from europe than europe is buying from us, and the gold is shipped to pay the balance or difference. the _par_ of the currency of any two countries means, among merchants, the equivalency of a certain amount of the (coin) currency of the one in the (coin) currency of the other, supposing the currencies of both to be of the precise weight and purity fixed by the respective mints. the par of exchange between great britain and the united states is 4.86-2/3; that is, £1 sterling is worth $4.86-2/3. exchange is quoted daily in new york and other city papers at 4.87, 4.88, 4.88-1/2, etc., for sight bills and at a higher rate for sixty-day bills. business men who are accustomed to watching fluctuations in exchange rates use the quotations as a sort of barometer to foretell trade conditions. the imports and exports of bullion (uncoined gold) are the real test of exchange. if bullion is stationary, flowing neither into nor out of a country, its exchanges may be truly said to be at par; and on the other hand, if bullion is being exported from a country, it is a proof that the exchange is against it; and conversely if there be large importations. the cost of conveying bullion from one country to another forms the limit within which the rise and fall of the _real_ exchange between them must be confined. if, for illustration, a new york merchant owes a debt in london and exchange costs him, say, two per cent., and the cost of shipping the gold is only one per cent., it will be to his advantage to pay the debt by sending the actual coin across. a favourable _real_ exchange operates as a duty on exportation and as a bounty on importation. [illustration: a bill of exchange (private).] it is to the interest of merchants or bankers who deal in foreign bills to buy them where they are the cheapest and to sell them where they are the dearest. for this reason it might often be an advantage for a new york merchant to buy a bill on london to pay a debt in paris. [illustration: a bill of exchange (banker's).] two illustrations of bills of exchange are given in this lesson. each is drawn in duplicate. the original is sold or sent abroad, while the duplicate is preserved as a safeguard against the loss of the original. when one is paid the other is of no value. notice the similarity between bills of exchange as shown here and commercial drafts as shown in our last lesson. the first form shows a draft made by a coal company upon a steamship company to pay for coal supplied to a particular steamer. suppose that the steamship company has a contract with robert hare powel & co. of philadelphia to supply coal to their steamers. the steamer _cardiff_, when in port at philadelphia, is supplied; the bill is certified to by the engineer; the master (captain) of the vessel signs powel & co.'s draft (and in doing this really makes it the captain's draft); the bill is receipted. now powel & co. sell this exchange (draft) on london to a broker or banker doing a foreign business. it is forwarded to london and presented in due time at the office of the wales navigation company for payment. the second form shows a bill of exchange drawn by a philadelphia banking house upon a london banking house and payable to the order of the firm buying the draft. c. h. bannerman & co. will send this bill (the original) to pay an account in europe. the first form bears the same relation to a commercial draft that the second does to a cashier's cheque. [illustration: first page of a letter of credit.] xi. letters of credit the usual instruments of credit by means of which travellers abroad draw upon their deposits at home are known as circular letters of credit. these forms of credit are of such common use that every one should be familiar with their form. we reproduce here a facsimile of the first and second pages of a circular letter for £1000, copied with slight change of names from an actual instrument. the first page shows the credit proper authorising the various correspondents of the bank issuing it to pay the holder, whose signature is given on its face, money to the extent of £1000. the names of the banks who are authorised to advance money upon the letter are usually printed upon the third and fourth pages, though letters issued by well-known banking houses are usually recognised by any banking house to which they are presented. the second illustration shows how the holder of a particular letter availed himself of its advantages. it gives the names of the banks to which he presented his letter, and the amounts paid by each. with such a letter a traveller could make a trip around the world and not have in his pocket at any one time more gold or silver or bills than would be necessary to meet immediate expenses. suppose that a. b. is about to make a european trip. he goes to a bank doing a foreign business, say brown bros. & co. of new york city, and asks for a circular letter for £1000, for which he is obliged to pay about $4880. copies of a. b.'s signature are left with brown bros. & co., and may perhaps be forwarded to their foreign banking houses. when a. b. presents himself at a glasgow or paris bank with his letter of credit, and asks for a payment upon it, the banker asks him to sign a draft on brown bros. & co., new york, or more likely on their london bank, for the amount required, which amount is immediately indorsed on the second page of the letter of credit, so that when the indorsements equal the face the letter is fully paid. a. b. is simply drawing upon his own account--that is, upon the money he deposited to secure the letter of credit. payment is usually made upon the simple identification or comparison of signatures. if a traveller should lose his letter of credit he should notify at once the bank issuing it and, if possible, the banks upon which drawn. [illustration: second page of a letter of credit (used).] there are several other forms of travellers' credits in use. the _cheque bank_, an english institution with a branch in new york city, issues to travellers a book of cheques, each of which can be filled up only to a limited amount, as shown by printed and perforated notices appearing on the face. for instance, for £100 one can buy a cheque-book containing fifty blank cheques, each good, when properly filled up, for £2. each of these cheques is really a certified cheque, only it is certified in advance of issue. any of the thousand or more foreign banks which are agents for the _cheque bank_ sell these cheque-books, and cash the cheques when presented. the amounts that may be short drawn go toward the cost of a new cheque-book, or may be returned in cash. the american and other express companies have forms of travellers' cheque-books very similar to those issued by the _cheque bank_. xii. joint-stock companies to organise a stock company it is necessary for a number of persons to come together and make a certificate to the effect that they propose to form a company to bear a certain name, for the purpose of transacting a certain kind of business at a certain place. the certificate states that they propose to issue a certain number of shares of stock at a certain price per share, that the capital stock is to be a certain amount, and that the company is to continue to exist for a definite period of time. blank forms for such certificate are supplied by the secretary of the state where the company is being organised, and when such certificate is properly filled out, signed, and delivered to him, he issues a license, or charter, to the persons making such certificate, giving them permission to open books, sell stock, and carry on the enterprise outlined. state laws regarding stock companies differ very largely. students of this course who desire to know the law in any particular state can easily secure the information by writing to the secretary of that state. the usual par value of a share of stock is $100. that is, if a company organises with a capital of $200,000, there will be 2000 shares to sell. each person who buys or subscribes for the stock--that is, who joins the company--receives a certificate of stock. our illustrations show two examples; one of a national bank, and the other of a manufacturing company. these certificates are transferable at the pleasure of the owners. the transfer is made usually by a form of indorsement on the back of the certificate, but to be legal the transfer must be recorded on the books of the company. [illustration: a certificate of stock in a national bank.] the men subscribing in this way become responsible for the good management of the business and are obliged to act according to the laws of the state in which the company is organised. usually they are not responsible individually for the liabilities of the concern beyond the amounts of their individual subscriptions. [illustration: a certificate of stock in a manufacturing company.] every person who subscribes for stock owns a part of the business and is called a shareholder. all the shareholders meet together, and out of their number they choose a certain number of directors. the directors choose a president and other necessary officers, and in a general way direct the policy of the company. as a rule directors have no salaries attached to their positions. general meetings of shareholders are held once a year to elect the directors and to hear the reports of the officers. the student should be familiar in a general way with the different classes of stock and with the technical terms familiar to stock companies. the more important of these matters are as follows: directors. all the shareholders meet together and out of their number choose a certain number of directors. the directors choose a president and other necessary officers and fix the amount of salary which shall be paid such officers for their work. capital stock. this name is given to the gross capital for which the company is organised, without any reference to its value or to whether it has been fully paid in or not. the _paid-in capital_ is the amount received from the stockholders on the shares for which they have subscribed. dividends. the directors of the company, after paying the expenses and laying by a certain amount for contingencies, divide the profits among the shareholders. these profits are called dividends, and in successful concerns such dividends as are declared quarterly, semiannually, or annually usually amount to good interest on the shareholders' investments. treasury stock. it often occurs that a new company finds it necessary to set aside a certain number of shares to be sold from time to time to secure working capital. such stock is held in the treasury until it is needed, and is called treasury stock. preferred stock. preferred stock is stock which is guaranteed certain advantages over ordinary stock. it is usually given to secure some obligation of the company, and upon it dividends are declared in preference to common stock. that is to say, if a man holds a share of preferred stock he will receive interest thereon out of the profits of the business before such profits are given in the form of dividends to shareholders generally. preferred stock can be issued only when authorised by the charter of the company. the interest on the investment in the case of preferred stock is more sure, but the security itself is not any more secure than in the case of common stock. guaranteed stock. guaranteed stock differs from preferred stock in this--that it is entitled to the guaranteed dividend (interest) before all other classes of stock, whether the company earns the necessary amount in any one year or not. this right is carried over from year to year, thus rendering the shares absolutely secured as to interest. watered stock. when stock is issued to the shareholders without increase of actual capital the stock is said to have been _watered_. a company may organise for, say, $10,000, and may want to increase to $50,000 without adding to the number of its shareholders. each holder of _one_ share will, in this instance, receive _four_ new shares, and in future instead of receiving a dividend on one share will receive a dividend on five shares. the object of this is, quite commonly, to avoid state laws requiring certain corporations to pay excess of profit over a stated rate per cent. into the state treasury. forfeited stock. stock is usually sold on certain explicit conditions, such as the paying of ten per cent. down and the balance in installments at stated intervals. if the conditions which are agreed to by the shareholder are not met his stock is declared _forfeited_, or he can be sued in the same manner as upon any other contract. assessments. some companies organise with the understanding that a certain percentage of the nominal value of the shares is to be paid at the time of subscribing, and that future payments are to be made at such times and in such amounts as the company may require. under these conditions the stockholders are assessed whenever money is needed. such assessments are uniform on all stockholders. surplus fund. it is not customary to pay a larger dividend than good interest. the profits remaining after the expenses and dividends are paid are credited to what is called a surplus fund. this fund is the property of the shareholders and is usually invested in good securities. franchise. a franchise is a right granted by the state to individuals or to corporations. the franchise of a railroad company is the right to operate its road. such franchise has a value entirely distinct from the value of the plant or of the ordinary property of the corporation. sinking fund. a sinking fund is a fund set aside yearly for the purpose at some future time of sinking--that is, paying a debt. xiii. protested paper when a note is presented for payment at maturity and is not paid it is usually protested; that is, a notary public makes a formal statement that the note was presented for payment and payment was refused. notice of such protest is sent to the maker of the note and to each indorser. the bank should never hand to its notary any paper for protest until it has made sure that its non-payment has not been brought about by some error or misunderstanding. quite often, even though the paper has been made payable at a bank, the notary sends a messenger with the note to the maker to make a formal demand for payment. in taking in collection paper, banks should obtain clear instructions from its owners as to whether or not it should be protested in case of non-payment. it by no means follows that a formal protest is not desired because the paper bears no indorsements. many banks make it a rule to protest all unpaid paper unless otherwise ordered. we often see attached to the end of a draft a little slip with the words: "_no protest; tear this off before protesting._" this is simply private advice to the banker informing him that the drawer does not wish to have the draft protested. it may be that he does not wish to wrong or injure the credit of or add to the expense of his debtor; or it may be that he considers the account doubtful and does not wish to add to his own loss the cost of protest fees. to hold an indorser, he must be properly notified of the non-payment of the note; and whether this has been done is a question of fact. if he was not properly notified this defence will avail whenever it is clearly proved. a great variety of defences may be successfully made by an indorser. a few of these defences are here briefly noticed: one is usury; another is the maker's discharge by the holder; nor can he be held when he has paid the note; nor when its issue was unlawful, nor when the note was non-negotiable, nor when his indorsement was procured by fraud. finally, an indorser may avail himself of any defence existing between the holder and the maker or principal debtor. this is evidently a just principle, for the holder should have no more rights against an indorser than he has against the maker. if, therefore, the maker can interpose some just claim as a partial or complete defence the indorser should be permitted to avail himself of this claim. in order to recover from an indorser it must be proven that a formal and proper demand for payment was made upon the maker. the formal protest is usually undisputed evidence of this. the maker is liable in any event. [illustration: a protest.] to make the indorser's liability absolute it is necessary to demand payment at the specified place on the last day of the period for which the note was given, and to give due notice of non-payment to the indorser. for, as the contract requires the maker to pay at maturity, the indorser may presume, unless he has received a notice to the contrary, that the maker has paid the obligation. ordinarily a notice of an indorsement by a partnership need not be sent to each member. even after the partnership has been dissolved a notice to one partner is sufficient to bind the other members. if the note is owned jointly (that is, by parties who are not business partners) the indorsers are not liable as partners but as individuals. in such a case the notice of non-payment should be sent to each. our illustration shows a facsimile of a protest notice. xiv. paper offered for discount one of the most valuable parts of a banker's education is to learn whom to trust. every bank should have a well-organised and thoroughly equipped credit department, in charge of some one who can be relied upon to investigate carefully all names referred to him by the officers. a banker has the right to expect the fullest confidence on the part of the borrower, and the borrower should furnish him with a complete and detailed statement of the condition of his affairs. it is safe to conclude that when a borrower refuses absolutely to give any information as to his financial condition his credit is not in the most favourable shape. many of the banks have blank forms which they, from time to time, ask borrowers to fill out. these statements show in detail the assets and liabilities of the firm in question; they show the notes which are outstanding, the mortgages on real estate, and many other particulars, including the personal or individual credit of members of the firm, if a partnership. in estimating the value of paper offered for discount the following points should be considered: 1. the total net worth of the borrower. 2. the character of his business; whether it is speculative or staple. 3. the borrower's record and standing in the community and his business habits. 4. whether he is in enterprise abreast with modern ideas and methods. 5. the character of the merchandise owned by the borrower. what would it bring under the hammer? groceries and raw material can usually be turned into cash at a forced sale at very small discount from current prices. not so with hardware, glass, dry goods, boots and shoes, books, etc. machinery and fixtures are not a bankable asset upon which to base credit. the banker should note his borrower's bills payable. why did he give notes? are they met promptly? many houses prefer to sell their own paper in the open market, and keep their banks open for accommodations when they are unable to secure outside credit. the insurance carried should be considered; also the volume of business done. a large business on moderate capital, with long credits, will naturally have large liabilities, while a small business with a liberal capital and short credits should have small liabilities. paper offered for discount is of a variety of kinds. the larger proportion of it is from customers of the borrower who have extended their credit by paying their accounts in notes instead of in cash. such paper is really, though having two names, very little better than single-name paper, for it is not the maker's credit, but the payee's, which the bank usually considers. many very small notes offered for discount usually indicate a very needy condition. there are many firms which carry two or more bank accounts, and others who sell their paper to out-of-town banks. in buying paper it is important to ascertain whether the firm is in the habit of taking up paper at one bank by floating a loan at another. paper may be classified for purposes of discount as follows: 1. bills drawn by shippers on the houses to which the goods are shipped. 2. bills drawn by importers against commodities placed in brokers' hands for sale. 3. bills arising out of our manifold trades and industries. 4. drafts with bills of lading attached. 5. paper having personal indorsements. 6. paper secured by collateral. 7. one-name paper. xv. corporations stock companies are in a sense corporations, but the name corporation has in its common application a broader meaning. public corporations are those which are created exclusively for the public interest, as cities, towns, counties, colleges, etc. private corporations are created wholly or in part for the pecuniary benefit of the members, as railroad companies, banks, etc. corporate bodies whose members at discretion fill by appointment all vacancies occurring in their membership are sometimes called _close corporations_. in this country the power to be a corporation is a franchise which can only exist through the legislature. in municipal corporations the members are the citizens; the number is indefinite; one ceases to be a member when he moves from the town or city, while every new resident becomes a member when by law he becomes entitled to the privileges of local citizenship. the laws which corporations may make for their own government are made under the several heads of by-laws, ordinances, rules, and regulations. these laws may be made by the governing body for any object not foreign to the corporate purposes. a municipal corporation, for example, makes ordinances for the cleaning and lighting of its streets, for the government of its police force, for the supply of water to its citizens, and for the punishment of all breaches of its regulations. a railway corporation establishes regulations for signals, for the running of trains, for freight connections, for the conduct of its passengers, and for hundreds of other things. but such by-laws and regulations must be in harmony with the charter of the corporation and with the general law of the land. for instance, a municipal corporation could not enforce a by-law forbidding the use of its streets by others than its own citizens, because by general law all highways are open to the common use of all the people. again, a railway corporation could not make a rule that it would carry goods for one class of persons only, because as a common carrier the law requires that it carry impartially for all. as a general rule private corporations organised under the laws of one state are permitted to do business in other states. it is quite often to the advantage of a company to organise under the laws of one state for the purpose of doing business in another. for instance, there are many companies chartered under the laws of maine with headquarters in boston. the massachusetts laws require that a large proportion of the capital be actually paid in at the time of organising, while the maine law has no such provision. for similar reasons many large companies doing business in new york or philadelphia are organised under the laws of new jersey. a corporation may make an assignment just as may an individual. if all the members die the property interests pass to the rightful heirs, and under ordinary conditions the corporation still exists. a franchise is a right granted by the state or by a municipal corporation to individuals or to a private corporation. the franchise of a railroad company is the right to operate its road. such franchise has a value entirely distinct from the value of the plant or the ordinary property of the corporation. an unlimited liability corporation is one in which the stockholders are liable as partners, each for the full indebtedness. a limited liability corporation is one in which the stockholders, in case of the failure of the corporation, are liable for the amount of their subscriptions. the name _limited_ is required by law to appear after the name of the company. if a subscription is entirely paid up there is no further liability--that is to say, the property of a shareholder cannot be attached for any debts of the company. understand clearly that the name _limited_ printed after the name of a company does not indicate in any way that the capital or credit of the company is limited, only that the liability of the shareholders of the company is limited to the amounts of their shares. a double liability corporation is one in which, in case of failure, the stockholders are further liable for amounts equal to their subscriptions. all national banks are double liability companies. if a owns $5000 stock in a national bank, and the bank fails, he loses his stock; and if the liabilities of the bank are large he may be obliged to pay a part or the whole of an additional $5000. xvi. bonds when a railroad company, or a city or any other corporation desires to borrow money it is a common practice to issue instruments of credit called bonds. a bond means something that binds. bonds bear the same relation to the resources of a corporation that mortgages do to real estate. corporation bonds are issued for a period of years. they usually have coupons attached which are cut off and presented at regular intervals for the payment of interest. a bondholder of a corporation runs less risk than a stockholder, first, as to interest: the corporation is obliged to pay interest on its bonds, but may at its own pleasure _pass_ its dividends; secondly, the bondholder is a creditor, while the stockholder of the corporation is the debtor. on the other hand, if a concern is very successful, a shareholder may receive large dividends, while the bondholder receives only the stipulated interest. a _bond_ is evidence of debt, specifying the interest, and stating when the principal shall be paid; a _certificate of stock_ is evidence that the owner is a part-owner in the corporation or company, not a creditor, and he has no right to regain his money except by the sale of his stock, or through the winding up of the company's business. the name debentures is given to a form of municipal bond in common use. nearly all the large sums of money used by states and cities for the building of state or municipal buildings, bridges, canals, water-works, etc., are raised through the issue of bonds (_debentures_), which are sold, usually at a price a little below par, to large financial institutions, banks, and insurance companies. generally speaking, such bonds are good _securities_, and are marketable anywhere. [illustration: a private bond.] at different times the united states government has issued bonds to relieve the treasury. these bonds are absolutely safe and are always marketable. _registered bonds_ have the name of the buyer _registered_; _unregistered bonds_ are payable to _bearer_. _municipal bonds_ are issued by cities and other municipalities to raise money for local improvements. if proper precautions are taken by buyers, municipal securities may be considered among the safest and most remunerative investments. when a new railroad enterprise is undertaken its promoters often expect to make the road not only supply the money for its construction but also give working capital in addition. this is done by the issue of mortgage bonds. default in the payment of interest throws the road into the hands of a receiver. the securities immediately fall in value and are perhaps bought up by a syndicate of crafty speculators who are permitted to reorganise the road and its management. this is the history of many of our roads. there are exceptional cases, of course, but the investor should be familiar with the facts before buying railroad mortgages. a bottomry bond is a kind of mortgage peculiar to shipping. it is a conveyance of the ship as security for advances made to the owner. if the ship is lost the creditor loses his money and has no claim against the owner personally. it is allowable for a loan made upon such a bond to bear any rate of interest in excess of the legal rate. a vessel arriving in a foreign port may require repairs and supplies before she can proceed farther on her voyage, and in occasions of this kind a bottomry bond is given. the owner or master pledges the keel or _bottom_ of the ship--a part, in fact, for the whole--as security. we have now upon the market stocks and bonds representing all conceivable kinds of property. not only are properties of many kinds used to issue bonds upon, but many kinds of bonds are often issued upon the same property. thus we find among our railroads not only first, second, and third mortgage bonds, but income bonds, dividend bonds, convertible bonds, consolidated bonds, redemption bonds, renewal bonds, sinking-fund bonds, collateral trust bonds, equipment bonds, etc., until they lap and overlap in seemingly endless confusion. receiver's certificates are issued by receivers of corporations, companies, etc., in financial difficulties, to secure operating capital; they are granted first rights upon the property and are placed above prior lien and first mortgage bonds. xvii. transportation the most common effect of cheapened transportation is to increase the distance at which it is possible for producer and consumer to deal with each other. to the producer it offers a wider market and to the consumer a more varied source of supply. on the whole, cheapened transportation is more uniformly beneficial to the consumer; its temporary advantage to the producer very often leads to overproduction. it has the effect also of bringing about nearly uniform prices the world over. the time was when nearness to market was of the greatest possible advantage. at the present time a farmer can raise his celery in michigan or his beets in dakota and market them in new york city about as easily as though he lived on long island. it is no longer location which determines the business to be carried on in a particular place, but natural advantages more or less independent of location. but the railroad or the steamboat very often determines where a new business shall be developed. it is this quickening and cheapening of transportation that has given such stimulus in the present day to the growth of large cities. it enables them to draw cheap food from a far larger territory, and it causes business to locate where the widest selling connection is to be had, rather than where the goods or raw materials are most easily procured. it is the quick and comfortable transportation facilities which our large cities possess that have given strength to the great shopping centres. shoppers for thirty or forty miles around can easily reach these centres, and the result is that trade gathers in centres rather than at local points. a city of a million population in the most productive agricultural section of country could not be fed if the food had to reach the city by teaming. with this growth of trade centres comes the increased gain of large dealers at the expense of the small; with it comes organised speculation and its attendant results, good and evil. prior to the completion of the organisation of trunk or through lines, freight was compelled to break bulk and suffer trans-shipment at the end of each line, where a new corporation took up the traffic and carried it beyond. to prevent this breaking of bulk and to expedite the carriage of freight, fast freight lines on separate capitalisation were organised. the purpose of the interstate-commerce law is largely to prevent discrimination and corruption in freight charges, to secure for every person and place just and equal treatment at the hands of the transportation companies. the freight rates are arranged and regulated by the traffic associations, and the various conditions and compromises necessary have made both classifications and rates about as complicated as anything possibly could be. the name differential as applied to freight rates refers to the differences which are made by railroad companies. certain roads are by agreement allowed to charge a lower rate than others running to the same points. to and from each of the eastern cities there are two classes of roads--the _standard_ lines and the _differential_ lines. the standard lines have the advantage of more direct connections; the differential lines reach the freight destinations by circuitous routes, in some instances by almost double the mileage. with a view to equalising these conditions the general traffic associations allow the differential lines to carry freight at a lower rate per mile than the rate charged by the standard lines. the transportation business of the united states is so varied and complicated that a proper study of its freight tariffs and classifications would require much more space than can be given the subject in these lessons. xviii. transportation papers the common transportation papers, familiar to all shippers, are the (1) _shipping receipt_, (2) _bill of lading_, (3) _waybill_. original receipts, stating marks and quantities of goods, go with each separate lot of merchandise to the freight sheds or vessels, and these are summed up in a formal bill of lading, for which they are exchanged when all the cases or bundles belonging to the particular shipment have been delivered. the duplicate receipt, or the part commonly marked _invoice_, is kept by the receiver of the freight, and the other end, commonly marked _original_, is given to the drayman. in making ordinary shipments it is not usual or necessary to make out a formal bill of lading. of course, when no bill of lading is made out, the receipt should be preserved by the shipper. the full contract is usually printed on the receipt, but it must be remembered that a receipt is not a negotiable instrument and cannot be used as security for money. [illustration: a shipping receipt (original).] a bill of lading is an acknowledgment by a transportation company of the receipt of goods specified, and contracts for their delivery at a certain place, under conditions stated thereon, upon payment of freight and expenses. bills of lading are negotiable and maybe transferred by indorsement, but are of no value apart from the goods to which they give title. a bill of lading goes with certain _named_ goods and cannot be transferred to other goods, even though of precisely the same kind and price. marine bills of lading are usually made in triplicate; one is kept by the shipper, another by the vessel, and the third is sent by mail to the person to receive the goods. [illustration: a steamship bill of lading.] the parties to a bill of lading are three--the shipper, the consignee, and the transportation company. the declaration of having received the goods in good order and condition, and the consequent obligation, subsequently expressed, of delivering them in like good order and condition, is sensibly lessened in its importance by the additional clause now adopted by almost all transportation companies--namely: "contents and condition of contents of packages unknown." should the goods or part of them be shipped in a damaged condition, or in a bad condition of packing, a note to that effect should be made by the transportation company on the bill of lading, which ceases then to be a _clean bill of lading_. [illustration: a local waybill.] like any other instrument of credit, a bill of lading may be deposited with a creditor as security for money advanced (or it may be transferred to a buyer) by means of indorsement, and the property or goods will be thereby either mortgaged or assigned. acting upon this principle, the shipper declares in the bill of lading that the goods shall be delivered unto the consignee or his assigns. when a shipper is unable to insert the name of the consignee at the time the bill of lading is made out, a _bill to order_ is drawn up wherein the consignee's name is superseded by the words _shipper's order_, or simply _order_; it being thus understood that the goods shall be delivered to whomsoever presents, at point of destination, the bill of lading duly indorsed by the shipper. by such a simple arrangement as a _bill to order_ the merchant is enabled to sell the goods while they are at sea, or in transit, and a consignment of merchandise may change hands several times before arriving at its destination. when a case of merchandise to be shipped has been properly entered and weighed it is then ready to be _manifested_ or _waybilled_, as no shipment is allowed to go forward without a waybill. the waybill is simply a memorandum of the consignment, together with full and complete shipping directions, giving also the number of the car into which the case has been loaded, and the point to which the car is "carded." the freight conductor has waybills for all goods which he carries. they are turned over with the merchandise to the agent of the railroad at the point of destination. our illustrations show (1) _a shipping receipt_--the half marked "_original_"; (2) _a steamship bill of lading_; (3) _a local waybill_. examination paper note.--_the following questions are set as an indication of the sort of knowledge a student should possess who has carefully read the several papers of this course. the paper covers only about the first half of the course. the student is recommended to write out the answers carefully. only such answers need be attempted as can be made from a study of the lessons._ 1. what in a general sense is meant when we speak of the currency of a country? 2. enumerate some of the advantages afforded to the community and to commerce in general by banking institutions. 3. a bank cheque is a demand order for money, drawn by one who has funds in the bank. how does a cheque differ from an order on john smith to pay bearer a certain sum of money? 4. why is it important that cheques should be very carefully drawn? 5. (_a_) a cheque has no date. does this make it void? (_b_) how about a cheque dated months ago? (_c_) is a cheque dated on sunday good? (_d_) why are cheques sometimes dated ahead? (_e_) are you at liberty to print your own form of cheque? (_f_) is it necessary that your cheque be written on the prescribed blank form? (_g_) how would you write a cheque for 75 cents? 6. how would you word a cheque to give to a person who is unknown at your bank, but who wishes to draw the money over the counter? 7. you are sending a cheque through the mails to john brown, philadelphia. how will you prevent the cheque from falling into the hands of the wrong john brown? 8. you identify a. b. at your bank. the cheque a. b. presented turns out to be a forgery. are you responsible? 9. a. b. transfers a cheque to you by a blank indorsement. it is then payable to bearer. how can you legally make it payable to your own order? 10. what is meant by power-of-attorney? how should an attorney indorse cheques for any person for whom he is acting? 11. if a note were about to be transferred to you by indorsement and delivery in payment of a debt, would it make any difference to you whether or not it was overdue? explain in full. 12. tell how you would receipt for a payment of a note. why is not an ordinary separate receipt sufficient? 13. why are notes protested? why is a formal protest sometimes desired even though the paper bears no indorsements? 14. if an indorser is compelled to pay a note, against whom has he a good claim? note to the foregoing examination paper it is a mistake to answer questions for a student if he is able of himself to find the answers. a question which sets a student thinking, even though he cannot immediately find a satisfactory answer, affords educational training of considerable value. a few of the answers to the foregoing questions are as follows: 5. (_a_) not necessarily so. (_b_) such a cheque would under ordinary conditions be all right. cheques should be presented as soon after date as convenient. (_c_) cheques dated on sunday are very commonly paid. cheques or notes delivered on sunday are void. the delivery makes the contract, not the dating. (_d_) that the maker may have a few days in which to deposit sufficient money to meet them. (_e_) you are at liberty to print your own form of cheque or to write it out in full if you wish. (_g_) write the words "_seventy-five cents_" plainly along the money line. 8. yes. business geography the trade features of the great commercial nations i. the trade features of the british isles london as a food consumer london is the greatest seat of trade and commerce in the world. its commercial greatness is evidenced by its greatness of population. its inhabitants number over 6,000,000. the houses in which this vast population lives, would, if placed end to end, make a continuous street that would stretch across all europe and asia. the mere effort of providing food for this vast population necessitates an enormous commerce. half a million of beeves are required every year to supply its meat market; also 2,000,000 sheep and 8,000,000 fowls. to supply its fish market 400,000,000 pounds of fish are required, and 500,000,000 oysters. grain, flour, fruit, butter, eggs, cheese, sugar, tea, and coffee, are brought to london daily in such quantities that the prices of these commodities all the world over are based upon what they will fetch in london. whole nations and provinces and districts get their subsistence from industries that have for their end the supplying of some of this enormous food demand. denmark, for example, owes its entire prosperity of recent years to its profitable manufacture of butter for the london market. brittany and normandy, in france, are almost wholly occupied in supplying that market with poultry and eggs. the islands of jersey and guernsey derive their principal wealth, not, as might be supposed, from the sale of milk and butter, but from the supplying of london with potatoes. canada during the last six or eight years has built up with london an immense trade in cheese, a trade that exceeds in importance any other that canada has, while even our own home states--illinois, iowa, and wisconsin, for example--have found new sources of wealth in catering to the london dairy trade. "elgin" and "ames" creamery butters are products well known to the london consumer. london the commercial centre of the world what is the reason of london's wonderful prosperity? already its population is one fifth the entire population of england and wales, and it is increasing at the rate of about 20 per cent. per decade. three hundred people are added to the number every day in the year, a rate of 110,000 inhabitants in the course of the year. it is now one half greater than the total population of all ireland. london's scotch population is almost as numerous as that of edinburgh, while its irish population is quite as numerous as that of dublin. every civilised country is represented among its people, and every civilised tongue is spoken among them. a sea of brick and mortar, even now fifteen miles long and ten miles broad, it is growing at the rate of a new house every hour of its existence. its streets are already 28,000 miles in length, and these are spreading out so rapidly that every year many whole villages and townships are enmeshed by them. every day 1,000,000 people enter london by railway, and at least 500,000 people have occupations in it in the daytime who reside beyond its limits at night. fifty thousand people have occupations in it in the night-time who reside beyond its limits during the day. it is the largest importing centre in great britain, and the largest in the world, and its exports are exceeded only by liverpool, and not always by liverpool. it is also the centre of the world's financial business. for example, traders in the east indies who ship cargoes of spices and other eastern produce to america, draw in settlement on london rather than on new york, while traders in america who ship cargoes of cotton to marseilles or riga, draw in settlement on london rather than on paris or st. petersburg. what is it that thus makes london the chief seat of population in the world, the commercial metropolis of the world, the great financial clearing-house of the world? london the centre of the land surface of the globe [illustration: london the natural centre of the world's trade.] london stands as nearly as possible in the centre of the land surface of the globe. its situation, therefore, eminently adapts it to be the great centre of the world's trade--the great distributing centre of the world's products. its ships can go to the farthest parts of the earth, and, loading themselves with the natural products of these parts, can bring them to its docks without breaking bulk, deposit them there for assortment, and then take them away again to other parts of the earth, and do this more economically than the ships of almost any other port in the world. but a greater reason is to be found in the fact that for centuries the british people have pursued a definite policy of manufacture, trade, and commerce, and have had the good fortune to have had that policy interfered with in a less degree than any other nation in the world by commerce-destroying war, whether internal or external. and whenever britain has been in external wars her navy has been able to protect her commercial interests. london, being the capital of the kingdom and its chief seat of trade, has naturally derived the principal benefit from these many years of peaceful industry and commerce. then, again, london is favourably adapted to trade in respect to its own country. it is a seaport, sixty miles inland, and is connected by navigable canals with all the other chief manufacturing and commercial centres of the country. its railway facilities, too, are so complete that there is not a manufacturing town in the whole island that is not within fifteen hours of freightage from it. then, too, the peculiar configuration of the coast-line of great britain makes every point on the island within an hour or two of carriage from a seaport. finally, all british seaports are in trade connection with london by a coasting service unequalled in the world for cheapness, completeness, and efficiency. in a word, london stands not only in the centre of the land surface of the globe, but also at the commercial centre of its own home territory--that is to say, within easy reach both by water and by land of all the trading and producing interests of a people that for centuries have been leaders in commercial and manufacturing industry and enterprise. great britain's commercial policy but that which more than anything else has made london the great trade centre of the world has been the policy, now for many years adopted by the british people, of allowing the goods and products of all other nations to enter their ports untaxed. every port in britain is a free port of entry for all imported merchandise except spirits, tobacco, wine, tea, coffee, cocoa, and chicory; and ships of all nations are allowed to trade at british ports upon terms exactly the same as those laid down for british ships. the result is that britain has become the entrepôt or distributing mart for the produce of the world. ships of all nations are found at her wharves, and commodities from all parts of the world brought in those ships are found in her warehouses. her mercantile navy numbers 21,000 vessels, and 8000 of these are steamships. the tonnage of these vessels amounts to over 8,750,000 tons, and of this nearly 8,000,000 is engaged in the foreign trade alone. her mercantile sailors number over 250,000 men, and over 150,000 of these are engaged in the foreign trade. london is, of course, the chief gainer from this perfect unrestriction of trade. twenty-seven per cent. of the whole trade of the country is in its hands. its merchants do business in every seaport on the globe, and the trade of great britain with ports in europe, the levant, egypt, india, the east indies, china, japan, and australasia, is almost wholly controlled by them. its shipping embraces the finest trading fleets known to commerce. its docks and wharves extend on either side of the thames for twenty-four miles from london bridge down to gravesend, and are the largest and finest in the world. [illustration: british mercantile marine. compared with that of other countries.] london the clearing-house of the world a similar explanation is to be given of the fact that london is the great financial centre of the world. the same policy which has made britain a great trading country has also made her a great manufacturing country. the food products of all the world pour in upon her shores, and britain has become a cheap place to live in. her artisans are supplied with the best food that the world can produce, and this at prices that are practically what the british demand makes them to be. the british artisan is therefore both well fed and cheaply fed. as a consequence of this, british manufactures are produced more efficiently and more cheaply than those of most other nations, and they are therefore exported enormously to every quarter of the globe. london, from its accessibility with respect to the great manufacturing centres at home, and from its trade connections and facilities for trade abroad, is the great distributing centre of this enormous manufacture. london exporters have accounts for goods sold by them all the world over. there is, therefore, no quarter of the world where money is not constantly owing to london; or, if not to london, then to manchester, birmingham, sheffield, leeds, glasgow, or some other manufacturing centre in close financial touch with london. in this, then, lies the explanation of the financial supremacy of london. no matter in what quarter of the world money is owed by any place, the final destination of that money is london; for in almost all cases it will be found that the locality to which the money is owed, if it be not london, will itself be a debtor to london. london, therefore, from necessity, and as a matter of custom and convenience, has become the great clearing-house of the world. the final adjustments of the indebtedness of all the commercial centres of the world are made there. [illustration: london bridge.] great britain the creditor nation of the world one other reason for the financial supremacy of london lies in the enormous wealth of britain. for now almost half a century britain has been importing far more than she has been exporting, and the total volume of her import and export trade is more than quadruple what it was in 1850. the consequence is that not only has britain been accumulating wealth, but she has been accumulating it enormously. her accumulated savings, therefore, have been at the world's disposal, and she has had so much money to invest that she has become the creditor nation of the world. the total investments of british capital in foreign countries (in loans, railways, manufacturing syndicates, etc.) is estimated to be the enormous sum of over $10,500,000,000. london, of course, is the investing, controlling, and supervising counting-house for all this capital. and as so much british capital finds in london its place of investment, it naturally follows that nearly all the remaining unemployed capital of the world, that seeks investment, either is sent to london as a market, or else assumes a price for investment elsewhere which the current price of capital in london warrants it to assume. the london market rate of capital, therefore, determines its market rate in every other commercial centre of the world. great britain a beehive of mercantile and manufacturing industry britain like all other civilised countries, was originally an agricultural country. although for some centuries she has been one of the chief manufacturing and mercantile countries of the world, it has been only during the past one hundred years, and especially during the past fifty years, that her development in manufactures and in commerce has been remarkable. britain is still, in respect of quality, the foremost agricultural country on the globe. her breeds of horses, cattle, sheep, and swine are the standard breeds from which almost all other breeds derive their origin, and by which from time to time they are improved. and nowhere is the raising of grains and roots for food of man and beast pursued with more skill and success than in britain. but agriculture is fast ceasing to be an important industry of britain. two million acres less are under cultivation now than were cultivated fifty years ago. the total amount of wheat raised is sufficient only for three months' consumption of the people; the remaining quantity needed must be supplied by importation. three fifths of the total population of the island live in towns, and only a small proportion of the population that live in the country is actually supported by agriculture. agriculture, in fact, supports only fifteen per cent. of the population in all britain, and in england only ten per cent. three and a half times as many people are personally engaged in manufactures as in rural pursuits. for three quarters of a century the population in towns and cities has been growing four times faster than the population of the rural parts. at the same time the working power of the urban population has been constantly growing more effective. in fifty years, by the general adoption of machinery, the effective working power of the british workman has been increased sixfold. in england eighty-six per cent. of the total work of the country is done by steam, and in scotland ninety per cent. great britain, therefore, has become practically one great beehive of mercantile and manufacturing industry. agriculture as a general occupation of the people, except in the production of the finer food products, such as choice beef and mutton and high-grade dairy products, is no longer profitable. indeed, during the last fifteen years the plant (including land) employed in agricultural industries has been depreciating in value at the rate of $150,000,000 yearly; that is, in these fifteen years the enormous sum of $2,250,000,000 of capital employed in agriculture has been obliterated. but the gain to capital employed in profitable mercantile and manufacturing pursuits has much more than compensated for this enormous loss in agriculture. great britain's coal-fields and iron deposits one reason for the great development which britain has made as a manufacturing and trading nation lies in the fact that britain was the first nation to utilise on a large scale the power of steam as a help to manufacture and trade. the steam-engine was a british invention. the first railways were built in britain. the first steamship to cross the atlantic was a british enterprise. a second reason lies in the fact that when britain began to use steam as a motive power she found her supplies of coal so near her iron mines, and so near her clays and earths needed for her potteries, that from the very first she was able to manufacture cheaply and undersell most of her competitors. her coal-fields have an area of over 12,000 square miles, and wherever her coal-beds are other natural products have been found near by, so that her manufacturing areas and her coal areas are almost identical. taking liverpool, manchester, birmingham, wolverhampton, sheffield, leeds, newcastle, durham, bristol, stoke, carlisle, cardiff, swansea, glasgow, paisley, and dundee as centres, around each of these lies a coal area of such richness as amply sustains it in its commercial and manufacturing pre-eminence. london is almost the only great commercial centre of britain that does not lie in the midst of or quite adjacent to a rich coal and other mineral region. but london is within easy distance, not only by rail, but also by canal and by coastwise sailing, of every coal-field and mineral deposit of britain. london, however, is an importing and exporting centre rather than a manufacturing centre. [illustration: the coal-fields of england.] london's special trade features the commercial supremacy attained by many of the large cities of britain is not wholly due to natural causes, or even to ordinary causes. much of it is due to extraordinary enterprise and forethought on the part of their citizens. london, for example, is the centre of the wool trade of britain. the woollen manufacturers of britain use about 250,000 tons of wool annually, and three fourths of this is imported. other cities that lie near the seats of the great woollen manufactures--liverpool, for example--have tried to secure a share of this vast importation of wool, but london, because of the special attention it gives to this trade, manages to keep almost the whole of the trade in its own hands. similarly, london almost wholly monopolises the trade of england with arabia, india, the east indies, china, and japan. it is therefore the great emporium for tea, coffee, sugar, spices, indigo, and raw silk. it also enjoys the bulk of britain's trade in fruits (oranges, lemons, currants, raisins, figs, dates, etc.) and in wines, olive oil, and madder, with the countries that lie about the mediterranean. by virtue partly of its situation, but largely because of the enterprise of its merchants, it absorbs nearly the whole of britain's french trade, and of england's trade with germany, belgium, holland, and denmark. this includes principally wines (from france), and butter, eggs, and vegetables. another great branch of its trade is that with the ports of the baltic, including those of russia, the imports comprising, besides wheat and wool, tallow, timber, hemp, and linseed. the tobacco imported from virginia into england goes almost wholly to london; so does almost the whole of the central american and south american trade in fine woods, dye-stuffs, drugs, sugar, hides, india-rubber, coffee, and diamonds. quite a large share of the trade of britain with canada is concentrated in london; also, more than one half of the trade of england with the west indies, the imports from the latter country comprising principally sugar, molasses, fruit, rum, coffee, cocoa, fine woods, and ginger. the special trade features of glasgow, liverpool, and manchester the great commercial centres of britain after london are glasgow (800,000), liverpool (700,000) and manchester (640,000, including salford). all these cities have derived the greater portion of their size from the progress they have made during the present century. all, of course, owe their progress and their prosperity largely to their natural advantages of situation, etc. liverpool stands on the margin of the atlantic, "the mediterranean of the modern world," and thus enjoys the principal share of the trade with america, especially that with the united states. great britain's imports from the united states amount to over $500,000,000 per annum, and her exports to the united states (exclusive of bullion, etc.) to over $100,000,000. (formerly the exports to the united states were twice this amount.) of this vast trade, amounting to one fifth of britain's total trade with the world, liverpool enjoys the lion's share. nearly all the cotton, not merely of the united states but of the world, that is used in europe is sent to liverpool for distribution. similarly, glasgow, situated with its aspect directed toward the same maritime routes, enjoys also an immense transatlantic trade both north and south. and manchester, situated in the very heart of the richest coal districts of the kingdom, and within easy reach of the great cotton port, liverpool, has built up a cotton-manufacturing industry surpassing that of all the rest of the world. the business enterprise of glasgow, liverpool, and manchester but the natural advantages of situation possessed by these great cities have been grandly supplemented by the enterprise of their inhabitants. glasgow is only a river port. for twenty miles below its site the clyde is naturally narrow, shallow, and shoal-encumbered. in places it is naturally not more than fifteen inches deep. by the expenditure of no less a sum than $60,000,000 this shallow stream has been converted into a continuous harbour, lined on either side for miles with wharves and docks, and easily capable of accommodating the largest and finest merchant ships afloat. as a consequence of this enterprise glasgow has become the greatest ship-building port in the world. no less than twenty shipyards--in efficiency and magnitude of the very highest class--are to be found along the banks of the once shallow, impassable clyde, between glasgow proper and the river's mouth. similarly, the enterprise of the ship merchants of liverpool has converted a port, that high tides and impassable bars would naturally render unfit for modern ships, into the greatest shipping port in the world. one hundred million dollars were spent in making the improvement, but $5,000,000 is the annual revenue derived therefrom in dock dues alone. and because of this enterprise liverpool can now boast of controlling one fourth of all the imports of the kingdom, and two fifths of all the exports, and of handling three fourths of all the grain and provision trade of the kingdom, and of having the largest grain warehouses in the world. [illustration: the manchester ship canal.] but manchester, a wholly inland city, forty miles distant from liverpool, its nearest port, has outdone even glasgow and liverpool in its endeavour to bring the sea to its own doors. it also has spent $100,000,000--not, however, in amounts spread over a number of years, and as occasion seemed to demand, but all at once, in one lump sum, in one huge enterprise. it has built a canal to the mersey where it is navigable, thirty-five and one half miles in length, and sufficiently deep and wide, so that the whole of its vast importation of cotton, and the whole of its vast manufacture of cotton and other textile fabrics, and as much else as may be desired, may be brought in from the sea or taken to the sea in merchant vessels of the very largest size now afloat. and it has done this in the face of engineering difficulties, and of obstacles raised against it by jealous competing interests that were almost insurmountable. great britain's specialisation of her industries in definite centres in no part of the world are manufacture and trade carried on with such strict regard to the conditions of economic production and the economic handling of goods as in the british isles. the free-trade policy of the empire permits everywhere within its borders not merely national but world-wide competition; and yet it is but truth to say that wherever great britain attempts to sell her goods abroad every nation and every community in the world rises against her. even her colonies are against her. her markets are open to every one's trade, and yet in almost every market in the world which she does not absolutely control barriers are raised against her trade. she is able to sell goods in foreign markets only because, despite these barriers, she is able to undersell all competitors in them, or to give better value for the same money than they. even when she obtains the control of new markets, as she has in india, china, egypt, west africa, etc., she allows every nation to trade in these markets on precisely the same terms as she herself trades in them. in the face of this world-wide competition, therefore, the industries of britain would cease to exist if every condition conducive to economy of production--climatic suitability, availability of cheap motive power, accessibility to cheap raw material, and accessibility to natural and cheap means of transportation--were not taken advantage of to the utmost. but this is just what britain does. she does take advantage to the utmost of conditions conducive to economy of production; and this is why, to a degree nowhere else attempted in the world, she has specialised her industries in definite favouring localities. the natural aptitudes of communities in great britain for special industries a result of this specialisation of industries in definite centres is that a natural aptitude for the industry specialised in a locality is developed among the inhabitants of the locality, and this, being stimulated by association, is transmitted from generation to generation with ever-increasing efficiency. again, this inherited aptitude of the community for the industry historically associated with it is a prime element in the economic prosecution of the industry. also, in turn, it acts as an important influence in continuing the industry in the locality where once it has been successfully specialised. in no country in the world, outside of asia, have great industries had such long-continued successful existence in definite localities as in britain. and therefore in no country in the world do the natural aptitudes of communities for special industries constitute such an important element of economic industrial production. a community of efficient "smiths," for example, has existed in and about birmingham since the fifteenth century. as a consequence of this the birmingham country has for several centuries been the greatest seat of the metal or hardware industries in the world. again, the manufacture of woollen cloths has been an industry successfully specialised in west yorkshire from the fourteenth century. it results that nowhere in the world is the woollen manufacture carried on more prosperously than in west yorkshire to-day. the potteries of staffordshire have been in existence time out of mind, and in the eighteenth century they took a pre-eminent place among the industries of the world. they hold that place of pre-eminence now, even though since then the methods of manufacture have been several times revolutionised. the cotton manufactures of great britain but the influence which more than anything else has determined the specialisation of industries in certain places in britain rather than in others has been the presence of coal-fields. in only a very few instances have great industries been maintained in districts that are not coal-producing. the busiest industrial centre in all britain is, perhaps, south lancashire, the great seat of the cotton manufacture. south lancashire is one great coal-field. liverpool, the great cotton port of the world, is at one edge of this field. manchester, the cotton metropolis of the world, is at the other edge. between and near these two chief towns is a whole nest of large towns and cities--preston, burnley, blackburn, rochdale, bolton, bury, ashton, stockport, oldham, etc.--every one of which is wholly devoted to the cotton interest. from their position all these towns obtain both their motive power and their raw material at the lowest possible cost. but, in addition to its advantages of cheap coal and cheap raw material, south lancashire has one other great advantage in favour of its special industry--its climate is eminently suited to the industry. its atmosphere is moist, and not too moist, and its temperature is not too cold. cotton thread can be spun and woven in lancashire which elsewhere would break. in scarcely any other place in england has cotton-weaving or cotton-spinning ever proved a success. the cotton industry of scotland is not so localised as it is in england, but paisley (65,000) is famous all the world over for its identification with the manufacture of cotton thread. ireland has no important cotton manufactures except in belfast. one third of the cotton manufactured in the world is manufactured in the united kingdom. the total product is about 14,000 miles of cloth daily. the number of separate mills is over 2500. the annual product is $500,000,000, which is one hundred times what it was one hundred years ago. the quantity of raw cotton imported annually to sustain this immense production is 1,750,000 pounds. [illustration: the great manufacturing districts of england.] the woollen manufactures of great britain a second great industry of great britain is its woollen manufacture. this industry is specialised in england, principally in west yorkshire, a district which is as well supplied with coal as is south lancashire. leeds (410,000) and bradford (232,000) are the two principal seats of the industry, but huddersfield and halifax are also important "cloth towns," and many other communities are identified with the manufacture of woollens. the noted "west of england" cloths are made principally in gloucestershire, where their manufacture in the town of stroud is a survival of an ancient industry once general throughout the whole county. in scotland there are two centres of the woollen industry. the first and most important is in southeast scotland, where, in the valley of the tweed (in galashiels, hawick, jedburgh, etc.), the celebrated "scotch tweeds" are manufactured. the second is in the valley of the teith (stirling, bannockburn, etc.). at one time the sheep that were pastured on the wolds of yorkshire were the chief supply of the raw material for this industry in the whole of britain, but that time is now long past. the total annual import of wool into the united kingdom is about 750,000 pounds, of which about one half is retained for home manufacture. two thirds of this import comes from australia. the number of wool and worsted factories in the kingdom aggregates over 2750. the value of the woollen goods produced annually is about $250,000,000, which is about one fourth of the total product of the world. the linen manufactures of great britain the third great textile manufacture of the united kingdom is that of linens. this is the one manufacture in which ireland surpasses her sister kingdoms, england and scotland. the cultivation of flax and the spinning of linen yarn have been domestic industries throughout all ireland from time immemorial. but at the present time the linen-manufacturing industry of ireland is almost wholly concentrated in belfast. in scotland, which now almost rivals ireland in the extent and perfection of her linen manufactures, the industry is principally located in fifeshire and forfarshire, especially in the towns of dundee and dunfermline, the latter town being greatly famed for its napery and table linens. linen, like cotton, requires a peculiar atmospheric condition of temperature and moisture for its manufacture, and only in few localities has the linen industry been successfully established. the total value of the annual linen manufacture of the united kingdom is $100,000,000. other textile manufactures of great britain the annual value of the total manufacture of textile fabrics in the british isles is about $1,000,000,000--not far short, indeed, of one fourth of the total manufacture of textile fabrics in all the world. great britain has over $1,000,000,000 invested in her textile industry, and one half of her total exports consists of textile manufactures. cotton, woollen, and linen cloths are the chief staples of this industry, but there are many other branches of it and many other localities in which it is specialised besides the ones already mentioned. leicester (204,000), which, like so many other manufacturing cities of england, lies at the centre of a coal-field, is the chief seat of the woollen hosiery manufacture. dumfries is the chief seat of the woollen hosiery manufacture in scotland. kidderminster, in worcestershire, is the chief seat of the "brussels" carpet industry; wilton, in wiltshire, of the wilton carpet industry. kilmarnock, in ayrshire, is the chief seat of the carpet manufacture in scotland. nottingham (233,000) is the metropolis of the cotton hosiery and lace manufacture of england. norwich (110,000), in eastern england, has a noted manufacture of muslins and fine dress-goods. the norwich textile manufacture is an instance of the continuance of an industry in a community historically associated with it, although its seat is far removed from a coal-field. the silk manufacture of great britain is almost entirely confined to the county of derby and adjacent districts in england. macclesfield, in cheshire, is the chief centre. coventry is noted for its silk ribbons and gauzes. but the manufacture of silk in britain is not prospering like that of her other textile fabrics. in fact, in forty years it has depreciated three fourths. british silk manufacturers are not as adept in weighting their products with dyes as their french competitors are, and in consequence english silks, though intrinsically better than french silks, look inferior and therefore cannot be sold at profitable prices. but, on the other hand, the jute manufacture of great britain is increasing by leaps and bounds. established only sixty years ago, the value of its annual output is now twice that of the whole manufacture of silk, and in twenty-five years has tripled. the chief seat of this industry is dundee (160,000), in scotland. the hardware manufactures of great britain the textile manufactures of great britain are in the aggregate first in importance, but the hardware manufactures come a close second. the total amount of great britain's hardware products is about $750,000,000, or one fourth of the total product of the world, and of this about one third is exported. even more than her textile fabrics, the hardware manufactures of great britain are associated with her coal-fields. the most distinctive "hardware centre" is that one which is identified with the great coal-field in the middle of england known as the "black country." birmingham (506,000), the chief place in this centre, is unrivalled in the world for the multifariousness and extent of its metal manufactures. it is literally true that everything from a "needle to an anchor" is made within its limits. but though its industries comprise principally those of iron and steel, its manufactures in gold, silver, copper, zinc, lead, and aluminium are also very important. birmingham, too, is unrivalled in the world in the application of art to metal work. its manufacture of jewellery, and gold and silver ornaments, is enormous. its manufacture of small wares is also enormous. for example, it turns out 15,000,000 pens weekly. its manufacture of buttons runs into the hundreds of thousands of millions. wolverhampton (88,000), also in the black country, is noted for its manufacture of heavy hardware and machinery. so also in oldham, in the lancashire district. so also in leeds, in the west yorkshire district. sheffield (352,000), also in yorkshire, is historically identified with its celebrated cutlery manufacture, an industry that first began there because of the quality and abundance of the grindstones found near by. with the coal-beds of durham and cumberland are identified the great ship-building and locomotive-building industries of newcastle (218,000), sunderland (142,000), and darlington, on the northeast side of england, and the great steel manufactures (the largest in the kingdom) and ship-building industries of barrow-on-furness, on the northwest side. with the coal-fields of south wales (noted for its smokeless coal) are identified the smelting industries of swansea (70,000). ores of copper especially, but also of silver, zinc, and lead, are brought from all over the world to swansea to be smelted. these south wales coal-fields also account for the fact that in respect to amount of tonnage cardiff (160,000) is one of the chief ports for exports in the world, ranking in this respect next after new york. the exports of coal from cardiff are now 12,000,000 tons annually. ii. the trade features of france france a richly favoured country france by nature is one of the most highly favoured countries in the world. its climate is genial. its temperature is so varied that almost every vegetable, grain or fruit needed for the sustenance of man may be raised within its borders. its soil, though not surprisingly fertile, yet yields abundantly such products as are suited to it. its mineral resources, especially in coal, iron, lead, marble, and salt, are very considerable. its area is compact. its facilities for foreign commerce are unsurpassed. it lies between the two bodies of water--the atlantic and the mediterranean--of greatest commercial importance in the world. and its people, especially those in rural parts, are exceptionally frugal and industrious. but france as a nation has not made the progress in the world that its natural advantages call for. it has been cursed with expensive and unstable governments and sanguinary wars. its upper classes, the natural leaders of its peoples, are excessively fond of pleasure and military glory, and the energies of the nation have been much misdirected. as a consequence, despite its natural advantages, france is losing ground among the nations of the world. its national debt amounts to nearly $7,000,000,000, the largest national debt known in history, being per head of population seventeen and one half times as great as that of germany, six times as great as that of the united states, and much more than one and one half times as great as that of great britain. but, what is of more serious consequence, the vitality of its people seems debilitated. for years the annual number of births in france has been steadily decreasing, while the annual number of deaths has been more or less increasing. over a great part of the country the number of deaths annually exceeds the number of births. in numerous years this is so for the whole country. the birth rate is the lowest in europe. the death rate, while not the highest, is yet higher than in many other countries. as a consequence of all this the population of france is almost stationary. during the last seventy years it has increased only 18 per cent., while that of great britain has increased 63 per cent., germany 75 per cent., russia 92 per cent., and europe as a whole 62 per cent. and even this increase, small as it is, is largely due to immigration from other countries. nor is the emigration of frenchmen to their colonies or to other countries to be set down as a sufficient explanation. the french are averse to emigration. at the present time the number of frenchmen residing abroad is only a little more than half a million, while of foreigners residing in france the number is not far short of a million and a quarter. [illustration: france, compared in size with the states of illinois and texas.] the french a thrifty, frugal people when france is compared with other countries in respect of commercial development and progress, the results will in almost every particular turn out unfavourable to france. for example, since the close of the napoleonic wars eighty-three years ago the national trade of great britain has quadrupled, while that of france has only trebled. at the close of the franco-german war france was eighteen per cent. ahead of germany in the carrying power of her shipping. now germany is seventy per cent. ahead of france in that respect. but it must be remembered that the franco-german war cost france in army expenses and in indemnity no less a sum than $3,250,000,000. the effect of that tremendous expenditure upon the prosperity of the nation can be estimated by one comparison. since that war the annual average savings per inhabitant in france have been $17. for the same period the annual average savings per inhabitant in great britain have been $19.50. had that war not occurred the average annual savings per inhabitant in france would have been $21.50. in short, no people in europe are comparable with the working classes of the french people in frugality and thrift, and because of this characteristic, if france were well governed, its prosperity would be equal to that of any country in the world, and this would be so in spite of the fact that france's interest bill imposes a tax of $6.50 a year on every inhabitant of the country. [illustration: street scene in paris, showing the bourse.] the importance of agriculture in france france has one element of stability, one characteristic inducive of thriftiness, that most other countries of europe lack. in most other european countries the land is held by few proprietors. in france it is held by many. in great britain and ireland, for example, the land that is devoted to agriculture is held by only 19,000 proprietors. in france it is held by 3,500,000 proprietors. there are also 3,500,000 district farms in france, though only sixty per cent. of the farm land of the country is cultivated by the owners. it follows from this that agriculture has in france a hold upon the affections and self-interest of the people that it has in no other country in the world. about forty-two per cent. of the total population of the country able to work are employed in agricultural pursuits. agriculture, therefore, is one of the most important industries of france. one fifth of the total earnings of her people are made in agriculture. it cannot be said, however, that agriculture in france is pursued as successfully as it is in some other countries--in great britain, for example. france, with sometimes the exception of russia, is the largest wheat-grower of all the nations of europe, but its production of grain per acre is not more than four sevenths that of great britain, while its production of grain per farming hand is only two thirds that of great britain. but so much of the agricultural effort of france is devoted to such industries as can be carried on in small farms or holdings--potato-raising, for example, and fruit-raising and poultry-raising--that the total money product per acre in france is not far short of what it is in great britain. that is to say, while agriculture is more profitably carried on in great britain than in france, it proportionately supports a larger number of people in france than in great britain. france's waterways and railways france, like germany, is well supplied with navigable rivers, and these, with its canals, constitute a complete network of navigable waterways that cover all the country and greatly promote the internal commerce of the nation. these navigable rivers aggregate 5500 miles, and the navigable canals over 3100 miles. the tonnage of goods carried on these waterways compares quite favourably with that carried by the railways. the railways aggregate 25,000 miles. the distinctive and important manufactures of france the most distinctive manufacture of france, the one in which she surpasses all other countries of the world, is the silk manufacture. france's total production of silk is not far short of one third of the total production of the world. lyons (466,000), on the rhone, is the chief seat of the industry, having had this pre-eminence ever since the jacquard loom was invented there at the beginning of this century. its production is not far short of three fourths of the total production of the country. the most important manufacture of france, however, is her manufacture of woollens. in this manufacture she comes next after great britain, her total production being a little ahead of that of both germany and the united states. her woollen mills number over 2000. her consumption of wool for this industry is about three fourths that of great britain, but the value of her production is only two thirds that of britain. lille (216,000) and rheims (108,000) are the chief seats of the woollen industry. of about equal value with the woollen manufacture of france is its hardware manufacture, but the importance of france's hardware manufacture is national rather than international. of next importance is the manufacture of cottons and linens. the chief seats of these industries are, for cottons, rouen (113,000), the "manchester of france," and for linens, lille. near lille is cambrai, the chief place of manufacture for that finer class of linens known as cambrics. a second distinctive manufacture of france is that of glass and porcelain. in this manufacture france quite equals great britain in respect of value, and surpasses her in respect of the artistic character of the wares. limoges (77,000) and st. cloud (near paris) are the chief seats of the french porcelain manufacture. it is at st. cloud that the celebrated "sèvres" porcelain is made. paris and the great seaports of france paris (2,536,834) is, of course, the chief trade centre of all france, but the trade interests of paris are general rather than special. the manufactures that are most localised in paris are those of articles of luxury, such as jewellery, perfumery, gloves, fancy wares, novelties, and fashionable boots and shoes. paris is also a great financial centre. marseilles (442,000), one of the oldest cities in europe, is the great seaport of france. its trade amounts to over $350,000,000 annually, and it ranks next after hamburg among the great seaports of central europe. its specialty is its great trade with the mediterranean and the east. the opening of the suez canal has been of incalculable advantage to marseilles. next as shipping port comes havre (119,000), at the mouth of the seine, with a total trade not far short of that of marseilles. havre is in reality the port or "haven" of paris. it is the great depot for french imports from north and south america. these comprise principally cotton, tobacco, wheat, animal produce, and wool. its import of south american wool is enormous, for three fourths of the wool used in france now comes from the region of the la plata. recently the seine has been deepened and now both rouen and paris may be considered seaports. by this means paris has direct water communication with london, and is, indeed, the third seaport in the country. next comes bordeaux (257,000), the chief place of export for french wines and brandies. about twenty years ago the wine industry of france suffered tremendous loss from the ravages of the insect phylloxera. over 4,000,000 acres of vineyard, representing a value of $1,000,000,000, were wholly or partially ruined by this terrible pest. the plague, however, has now been stamped out, but nearly 2,000,000 acres of vineyards have been permanently destroyed and have been devoted to potatoes and the sugar-beet root. the result is that the production of wine in france is now less than what is needed for home consumption, and over fifty per cent. more wine is imported than is exported. the remaining great shipping ports are dunkerque (40,000) and boulogne (37,500). calais (57,000) has a great passenger trade with england. iii. the trade features of germany germany the most prosperous nation in continental europe the greatest and most prosperous commercial nation in the old world after great britain is germany. its population is 52,000,000, as against france's 38,500,000; and while france's population is scarcely increasing at all, germany's population is increasing the most rapidly of any in europe. since the franco-prussian war france has gained in population only a little over 2,000,000, while germany in the same time has gained 12,000,000. in the middle of the present century the populations of germany and france were equal, being each about 35,000,000. since that date germany's population has increased by about fifty per cent. and france's by only about ten per cent. similarly, the commerce of germany not only greatly exceeds that of france, but is growing much faster than that of france. the total exports and imports of germany, exclusive of bullion, now foot up to nearly $2,000,000,000 a year. the total exports and imports of france, exclusive of bullion, foot up to only $1,500,000,000 a year. the total commerce of germany is therefore about one third more than that of france. at the close of the franco-prussian war the total commerce of france considerably exceeded that of germany. the character of germany's industries changing germany, like england, is rapidly changing the character of her industries and becoming a manufacturing and commercial nation instead of an agricultural nation. this is the cause of her well-known anxiety to secure control of territories in africa, asia, etc., as exclusive markets for her manufactures, for, unlike england, germany is at present a believer in exclusion in trade, both at home and in her colonies. fifty years ago about four sevenths of the people of germany were engaged in agriculture; now only about one third of the people are so employed. the growth of the great cities of germany is eight times faster than that of the rural districts, and in fifty years the aggregate population of the six largest cities of the empire--berlin, hamburg, leipzig, munich, breslau, and dresden--has grown sixfold, namely, from 600,000 to 3,600,000. in fifty years, too, the manufactures of germany have nearly doubled, the commerce nearly trebled, the shipping increased more than fivefold, and the mining output more than sixfold. while all this is true, it nevertheless is also true that the area of cultivated soil in germany is double what it was fifty years ago. but this is because much land, formerly waste or in pasture, has been brought under cultivation. yet even now only one half of the land of germany is cultivated, and thirty-three per cent. of the total food consumption of the people has to be imported. fifty years ago only five per cent. of the total food consumption was imported, and this small fraction consisted almost wholly of luxuries. germany's success in technical education [illustration: approximate size of the german empire. note.--the population of that part of the united states included within the circle is about 10,000,000. the population of the german empire is about 52,000,000.] germany's prosperity and progress cannot wholly be measured by statistics. no one can predict what it will be, for it is partly based upon elements that unfortunately other countries have not taken much account of. germany pays greater attention to the practical education of her people than any other nation in the world. her system of technical education extends over the whole empire, and provides technical instruction for every class of the people and for every occupation of the people--night schools for those already engaged in life's work, agricultural schools, forestry schools, commercial schools, mining schools, naval schools, and schools in every branch of manufacturing industry, besides, of course, schools for the education of those intending to follow the learned professions. as a consequence of this very general provision of technical education, there is engaged in german manufacturing pursuits a class of workmen not found in the workshops of any other country--men of industrial skill and experience, and at the same time of the highest scientific technical attainments in the branches of science that bear particularly upon their work. these men work at salaries that in other countries would be considered absurdly low. in almost all other countries the possession of a sound scientific education is a passport to social distinction, and every profession is open to him who is deserving to enter it. in germany, however, the learned professions, and especially the official positions of the army and navy, are almost the exclusive preserves of those who are born to social rank. the educated commoner, therefore, has to betake himself to manufacture, trade, or commerce. it follows that scientific skill and intelligence are more generally diffused in german commercial industries than in those of all other nations. so far, however, the german artisan has not been the equal in special technical skill of his more rigidly specialised english competitor, and as a consequence of this more than one sixth of germany's total imports consist of goods brought from england--principally the finer sort of textile fabrics and articles of iron and steel. this inferiority in specialisation in the german workmen cannot continue long, and the successful rivalry of germany with the manufacturing pre-eminence of great britain may soon be a startling fact. germany's mines and hardware manufactures it is in the development of her mines and of manufactures in which minerals are employed that germany has made most noticeable progress. she produces four times as much coal as france, and she has over 1000 separate iron-mines. her production of iron has increased tenfold in fifty years. she employs over 400,000 men in her mines, and by the use of labour-saving machinery one man can now produce as much as three men could produce fifty years ago. her hardware manufactures are one sixth of her total manufactures, and in the past half century they have increased sixfold. they are now double those of france, and are only one fourth less than those of great britain. she has 750 factories devoted to the making of machinery alone. two of these--krupp's at essen, and borsig's at berlin--are among the largest in the world. krupp's employs 20,000 men, has 310 steam-engines, and covers an area of 1000 acres. borsig's employs 10,000 men, and in fifty years, starting from nothing, has turned out nearly 4000 locomotives. one of krupp's hammers (a fifty-ton hammer) cost $500,000. germany's internal trade germany's commercial energies up to the present have been mainly concentrated on her internal trade. the total amount of this trade foots up to $7,000,000,000, against france's $6,000,000,000, and in fifty years it has trebled, while that of france has scarcely doubled. germany has more miles of railway than any other country in the world except the united states, her mileage being nearly 30,000, against france's 25,000 and great britain's 21,000. her natural and artificial waterways are also the best in europe, and her vast production of mineral wealth is transported from mine to foundry and factory, and her vast production of lumber and grain is transported from forest and field to seaport, largely by means of water carriage. the rhine, the elbe, the oder, and the vistula are all navigable throughout their whole courses through german territory, while the weser and the danube are also navigable throughout great parts of their courses. all these navigable rivers are interconnected by canals. the total length of possible river navigation is nearly 6000 miles, while the total length of canals and canalised rivers is 2700 miles. besides, in 1895 there was completed the kaiser wilhelm canal, a lockless sea-going vessel canal, twenty-nine feet six inches deep and sixty-one miles long, connecting the north sea and the baltic, and constructed at a cost of nearly $40,000,000. this canal effects a saving of almost one whole day for commercial steamers, and of three days for all sailing-vessels, engaged in the baltic and north sea trade. germany's foreign trade but while it is true that germany's internal trade is her most important trade, it is also true that her foreign trade has during the last half century made more progress than that of any other european country, and during the last three or four decades more progress than even that of the united states. since 1840 it has increased six and two third times, while that of great britain has increased six times, and france only four and one fifth times. it is now second in the world, being more than half of that of great britain, ahead of that of the united states,[1] and very considerably ahead of that of france, while in 1860 it was much less than half of that of great britain, less than that of the united states, and considerably less than that of france. germany, however, is not well favoured with respect to seaports, for in its transmarine trade it is largely dependent on foreign seaports--namely, ports in belgium, holland, france, italy, and austria. rotterdam in holland and antwerp in belgium are much more favourably situated with respect to the commerce of its chief mining and manufacturing regions than any of its own ports. there are only two german seaports with water of depth sufficient to accommodate the deep-drawing vessels in which foreign commerce is now mainly carried on--namely, cuxhaven, the outport of hamburg, sixty-five miles from hamburg, and bremerhaven, the outport of bremen, thirty-five miles from bremen, though recent improvements in the navigation of the elbe allow vessels of even twenty-six feet draught to ascend the elbe wholly to hamburg. but hamburg (625,000), for the reason that for centuries it was a free port of entry, has built up a very large foreign trade, being the fifth in the world in this respect, london, new york, liverpool, and rotterdam, alone being ahead of it. hamburg's foreign trade is almost one half greater than the whole foreign trade of all other german ports put together, while the foreign trade of bremen is about one fourth that of hamburg. bremen, like hamburg, was for centuries a free port of entry, but in 1888 both hamburg and bremen gave up in great part their free port privileges and entered the general customs union of the empire. both cities were extremely loath to give up their ancient unique commercial privileges, for they feared an immense loss of trade in doing so, but it was hoped that what they lost in foreign commerce would be made up to them in increased commerce with other parts of the empire. one reason for the great development of germany's foreign trade in late years is found in the facilities that it possesses for rapid transit to and from italy by means of tunnels through the alps. [illustration: north central germany, showing the ship canal and the leading commercial arteries.] footnote: [1] during the last two or three years the foreign trade of the united states has greatly expanded and has exceeded that of germany, and is making a close push upon that of great britain. the above statement was intended to represent the situation as existing during a period of some years. the special trade centres of germany berlin (1,700,000), the capital of the empire, is a chief seat of machinery manufacture. for many years frankfort-on-the-main enjoyed the pre-eminence of being next to london the greatest money market in the world; but since the establishment of the german empire frankfort's financial business has been absorbed by berlin. leipzig (400,000) has the distinction of being the seat of a book-publishing trade that turns out over 60,000,000 volumes in a year, amounting in value to $30,000,000. leipzig has also the honour of being the greatest fur market in the world. dantzig (120,000) is germany's chief port on the baltic, and the chief seat of its great export trade in timber, grain, flax, hemp, and potatoes. its harbour, however, is closed in winter because of ice. dresden (330,000) is noted for its porcelain manufacture, but the porcelain is not manufactured chiefly in dresden, but in meissen, fifteen miles from dresden. munich (407,000) manufactures largely the national beverage, beer. finally, nuremberg (162,000), in southern germany, is remarkable for its continuance into modern days of manufactures for centuries carried on domestically. of these the most noted are watches, clocks, pencils, and toys. iv. trade features of spain and italy italy, turkey, and spain, the three decadent nations of europe the mediterranean from the very earliest epochs of civilisation has been a chief highway of trade, and along its shores every sort of commercial activity has been prosecuted. for centuries and centuries the nations upon the borders, especially those upon its northern borders, were the leading nations of the world, and their empire, indeed, comprised the empire of the world. but during the last two or three centuries, and especially during the nineteenth century, commercial pre-eminence and pre-eminence in empire have departed from the mediterranean. italy, the ruler of the whole ancient world, and even in modern times a ruler of almost equal potency; turkey, during the middle ages a chief power both in europe and in asia; spain, for two centuries at the beginning of our modern epoch a chief power in europe and the mistress of almost the whole western world as well,--these countries have all sunk to positions of comparative insignificance, and italy alone shows signs of effectual regeneration. and yet on the whole earth's surface there are no lands more richly endowed by nature as abodes for man than italy, turkey, and spain. spain: its trade and its special trade centres spain, because of the varied climate of her several parts, is capable of producing almost all the edible fruits and grains known to both temperate and tropical regions. though there are some desert areas, a great portion of the soil is abundantly productive, and were agriculture pursued with the same skill as it is in other countries--in england and scotland, for example--spain would be one of the richest agricultural regions on the globe. but not only is agriculture very inefficiently pursued, but the country is also sparsely inhabited (only 90 to the square mile, as compared with 270 to the square mile in italy) and only one fourth of it is cultivated. as a consequence only those products are raised in spain in which, because of her advantages of climate, etc., she has least competition. the principal commercial agricultural product is wine, the vine being cultivated in every province in the kingdom. six hundred million gallons of wine are raised annually, which is more in value than the total quantity of grain raised. only one fifth of this, however, is exported (principally to france), and even of this the greater portion is wine of inferior grade, used for mixing. the remaining agricultural products of spain exported are chiefly oranges, lemons, grapes, raisins, nuts, olives, and onions. of these over $15,000,000 worth go to england annually. england and france, indeed, enjoy the great bulk of spain's foreign trade, but of late years germany and the united states are taking a small share of it. the mineral wealth of spain is enormous, and as the mines are often controlled by foreign capital they are worked with energy. the iron ore of the basque provinces of the north and the copper ore of the district about cadiz have been renowned for ages. thirty-five million dollars' worth of copper, iron, lead, silver, and quicksilver are exported to great britain annually. there are manufactures of cottons, woollens, linens, and silks, but none of these can be said to be very prosperous, although during the last twenty-five years, owing to a high protective tariff, the quantity of raw material used in textile manufacture in spain has doubled. spain produces excellent wool, but her woollen manufacture is unable to use it all and one fourth is exported. similarly, although spain is especially rich in iron-fields, she gets about one third of the hardware she needs for her own consumption from england. the total area of spain's coal-fields is estimated at 5500 miles, but hitherto little coal has been mined, partly because it is somewhat inaccessible. four million dollars' worth of coal is annually imported from england. whole mountains of rock salt exist, but little is mined and none is exported, although bay salt obtained in the south is exported to the fishermen of cornwall. another important export is esparto grass, which is sent to england to be used in paper-making. and still another is cork, although portugal, which adjoins spain, is the chief seat of the cork-producing industry. madrid (470,000) is the capital and largest city. barcelona (250,000) is the chief seaport of spain and the chief manufacturing centre. valencia (145,000), in the southeast, and seville (135,000) and malaga (115,000), in the south, are the principal seats of the fruit export trade of the country. cadiz (65,000), spain's principal naval seaport, has a famous export trade in sherry wines. the total population of spain is 17,500,000. [illustration: spain compared in size with california.] italy's lamentable condition italy's condition is in some respects better than that of spain, but in others worse. its population is 30,500,000, being three times more to the square mile than that of spain, and fifty per cent. more to the square mile than that of france. since 1830 the population has increased forty-five per cent., and this notwithstanding the fact that the loss by emigration is equal to one half of the natural increase from the surplus of births over deaths. two million people of italian birth are to-day residing in foreign countries. again, the italians, except those in the southern parts (the italians of naples and vicinity, for example), are the most industrious people in europe, with a special aptitude for gardening and tillage. in fifty years they have reclaimed 20,000,000 acres from forest, and increased the area of land under cultivation by one hundred per cent. in fifty years, too, they have trebled the amount of capital invested in agriculture. since 1860 they have increased the amount of material which they use in their textile manufactures (cotton, wool, silk, and linen) nearly fivefold. since 1850 they have increased their external commerce two and one half times. finally, since 1830, they have increased their internal trade two and one quarter times. but all these signs of prosperity in italy are negatived by the constantly increasing magnitude of her national debt. this now amounts to more than $2,500,000,000, or more than two and one half times the total net national debt of the united states, and about one fourth more than the total national, state, county, municipal, and school-district debts of the united states. and this vast debt for a people of 30,500,000 is exclusive of the provincial and communal debts, which amount to $275,000,000 additional. italy since her reorganisation as a kingdom in 1870 has set out to be a first-class military and naval power, and the cost is more than she can stand. she has a permanent army of nearly 800,000 men, 250,000 of whom she keeps under arms constantly. she has a fleet of seventeen battleships, two coast-defence ships, eighteen cruisers, and 272 torpedo craft, most of these being of modern type and first-class rating. she spends on her army nearly $50,000,000 annually, and on her navy nearly $20,000,000 annually. this, with an annual interest payment of $115,000,000, all unproductive expenditure, makes a demand upon her revenue that is draining her people of their life's blood. every sort of taxation is resorted to--direct and indirect; land, house, and income; succession duties, registration charges, and stamps for commercial papers; customs, excise and octroi; besides government monopolies; and all this exclusive of communal taxation. and yet since 1891 there has been an annual deficit of national revenue under national expenditure averaging $2,250,000. as a consequence of these taxes, and of the repressive effect they have upon industrial enterprise, the net earnings of the country per inhabitant are lower in italy than in any other european state except turkey, russia, and greece--lower, even, than in the danubian states and portugal and spain. italy's trade and special trade centres the most distinctive natural product of italy is silk, and the amount of raw and thrown silk exported is about $57,500,000 annually. silk culture is carried on all over the kingdom, though the industry flourishes most extensively in piedmont and lombardy, in the north. over 550,000 people are engaged in rearing silkworms, and the annual cocoon harvest approximates 100,000,000 pounds. silk-"throwing," or-spinning, is the principal manufacturing industry, and the amount of silk spun and exported is about 45,000 tons, most of which goes to france. after silk the products of the country that constitute the principal exports are olive oil, fruit (oranges, lemons, grapes, almonds, figs, dates, and pistachio nuts), and wine (in casks). the olive-oil export and the fruit export are each about a fifth of the export of silk, and the wine export about a sixth. other important and characteristic exports are raw hemp and flax, sulphur, eggs, manufactured coral, woods and roots used for dyeing and tanning, rice, marble, and straw-plaiting. the principal import is wheat, for agriculture, though generally pursued, is still in a backward state of efficiency, and the average grain crop is only one third what it is in great britain. one eighth the total amount of wheat needed to support the people has to be imported. in fact, the total amount of food-stuffs raised in the kingdom is much less than the amount required, being, for example, per inhabitant, not more than one half of what is raised in france. in particular, there is a deficiency of meat, and the amount of meat raised per inhabitant is the lowest in europe. as a consequence the italians are poorly fed, and it is estimated that four per cent. of the annual death loss is occasioned by impoverishment of blood due to insufficiency of wholesome food. after wheat and raw cotton, the next principal import is coal, for italy has no workable coal-fields. as far as possible water power is used as a motive power instead of coal, especially in the iron industries. an important import also is fish, for, owing to the great number of fast days which the italian people observe, and to the dearness and scarcity of meat, fish is a very general article of consumption. six million dollars' worth is imported annually, and perhaps an equal amount is obtained from local fisheries, for there are over 22,000 vessels and boats and over 70,000 men engaged in this industry. after silk-throwing, the most characteristic italian manufacturing industries are those which are of an artistic or semi-artistic nature, such as the making of fine earthenware, porcelain, glassware, mosaics, and lace. venice (154,000) and genoa (225,000) are still the principal seaports and trade centres of italy, but in commercial importance these famous cities are only the mere shadows of what they once were. naples (529,000), the largest city, is a place of little enterprise, for its imports, principally cereals, are three or four times the value of its exports, which are mainly cheap country produce. milan (457,000) and turin (348,000) are the great trade centres of the north interior, and the most prosperous places in the kingdom, being the chief seats of the silk-throwing industry. milan is also the chief seat of the italian cutlery manufacture. palermo (284,000) and messina (150,000), in sicily, are the chief ports for the export of italian fruits, and also of italian fish (anchovies, tunnies, etc.). rome (474,000) and florence (207,000) owe their chief importance to their art interest and to their historic associations, but florence has an important manufacture of fine earthenware and mosaics. rome is the chief seat of government. catania (127,000), in sicily, is the chief seat of the italian sulphur export trade. leghorn (104,000), the port of florence, is the chief seat of the export straw-plaiting trade. it should be noted that notwithstanding italy's extent of coast-line a large part of her foreign commerce is transacted northward by means of the railways that tunnel the alps. [illustration: italy and its chief commercial centres.] v. the trade features of russia russia, a country whose future is a problem the position of russia in the world is a sort of problem. its area is immense. more than one seventh of the land surface of the globe is included within its compact borders. of this vast territory the area of european russia alone is only a fourth; but even so it is larger than the area of all other european states put together. the population of russia is over 129,000,000, of which over 106,000,000 belong to european russia. but taking even european russia this is a population of only fifty-four to the square mile, the lowest proportion in europe, except in sweden and norway. and the population is increasing. the birth rate is the highest in the world. and though the death rate is very heavy, being fifty per cent. more than it is in england, the increase from births is so great that the population doubles in forty-six years. there is thus apparently a prospect that russia will, in the near future, play an important part in the drama of nations, her capacities and capabilities for growth seem so prodigious. and yet there is a reverse side to the picture. of the 106,000,000 inhabitants of european russia 10,000,000 belong to a cultured, progressive class, quite the equal of any people in europe. but the remainder are principally a low grade of peasantry, not long removed from slavery. the principal occupation of these peasantry is farming. but their farms are small, not more than ten acres apiece, and the total revenue they get from them does not average more than $65 a year per farm. the food of these peasantry is the poorest in europe. in the main it consists of rye bread and mushroom soup, worth about four cents a day. the houses are often mere huts, not more than five feet square. women as well as men work in the fields, and yet the total amount of food raised is not more per head of population than one tenth of what is raised by the peasantry of france. the value of food raised per acre, too, is but little more than one third of the average per acre for all europe. [illustration: russia, the british empire, the united states compared.] russia a country of social extremes the degradation of the peasantry of russia is not simply material. it is also moral. in the language of a recent traveller, "they are the drunkenest people in europe." the principal intoxicant is a sort of whisky called "vodka." with drunkenness exist also dirtiness, idleness, dishonesty, and untruthfulness. and as yet little has been done to ameliorate this degradation. ignorance prevails everywhere. even of the young people of the peasant class more than eighty per cent. can neither read nor write. there is no middle class. the gulf between the upper class and the lower is so wide as to be absolutely impassable. and for the most part the upper class is quite content to have this state of affairs continue. the "artels" of the russian peasants there is, however, some hope for the lower classes of russia. this is because of the prevalence among them, especially in villages, towns, and cities, of a communal custom in which self-restraint and self-government are necessary conditions of existence. in every branch of common industry "artels" are found; that is, communistic organisations, where all labour for a common purse in accordance with rules and regulations determined by the members of the organisations. these "artels" have done much toward increasing the industry, the honesty, the truthfulness, the thrift, and also the sobriety of their members. they exist throughout all russia, but in some parts more prevalently than in others. as yet, however, they scarcely affect the character and condition of the rural peasantry, and it is these who are most in need of elevation. it should be said, too, that the government is doing something to lessen the evil of drunkenness. russia principally an agricultural country russia's principal business is agriculture. more than one half her whole internal trade is agricultural. her agricultural products are one and one half times greater than the products of her manufactures and ten times greater than her mining products or her imports. and though her production of grain per acre is the lowest in all europe except italy, spain, and portugal, and her total production of all food products per acre by far the lowest in europe (not more than one third that of spain, which is next lowest), yet she manages to export a larger quantity of grain than any other country in europe, france only sometimes excepted. russia's export of grain for some years past has averaged 266,000,000 bushels a year. her export of wheat alone has averaged 94,000,000 bushels a year, or considerably more than a fifth of the total wheat export of the world. the explanation of this enormous export of wheat from so poor a country is that three fourths of the people live on rye. among the peasants wheat bread is practically unknown, and nothing could be more pathetic than the hard rye lumps which passed as bread during the last famine. other agricultural exports (besides grain) are flax, hemp, oil-seed cake, linseed and grass seed, butter, eggs, wool, hides, and hogs' bristles. wood, lumber, and timber are also extensively exported. england is russia's best customer. the amount of england's annual importation of the above products (including grain) exceeds $112,000,000. russia's mineral wealth in minerals russia is enormously wealthy, but the mining lands are not diffused throughout the empire but confined to definite areas. nor can they be said to be energetically worked. the great gold-fields of the ural mountains would not pay expenses as worked at present were they not supplied with convict labour. owing to the heavy import duty which is imposed on pig-iron nearly all the iron now needed for the iron manufactures of the empire is obtained at home, but this amounts to only 46 pounds per inhabitant, as against 810 pounds per inhabitant used in britain. coal is very abundant, especially in the valley of the donetz, but fire-wood is so plentiful for domestic purposes, and water power so plentiful for heavy manufactures, that the amount of coal mined in all russia is only one twelfth that mined in germany, and only one twenty-fourth that mined in britain. over 2,250,000 tons of coal are imported despite very heavy protective duties. there is one mineral product, however, in which russia excels all other european countries. this is petroleum. the oil-springs on the caspian sea produce an annual yield of crude petroleum of an average value of $15,000,000. the value of the petroleum and petroleum products exported in 1896 was over $22,000,000. russia's trade and manufactures despite russia's resources in farm products and in minerals, yet, owing to the ignorance and degradation of her people, she is a poor country, and her exports are always more than her imports. her total wealth per inhabitant is only $305, as against $780 per inhabitant for germany, $1260 for france, and $1510 for great britain and ireland. her total foreign trade is only $5 per inhabitant, whereas the foreign trade of her neighbour, germany, is $35 per inhabitant. her total internal trade is only $50 per inhabitant, whereas even in greece the internal trade is $65 per inhabitant, while in germany it is $130 per inhabitant, and in the united states $215 per inhabitant. the reason of all this is the lack of energy and industry in the people. their earnings per inhabitant average only 12 cents a day. another reason is the lack of modern labour-saving devices. comparing inhabitant with inhabitant, russia has only one sixth of the steam power which germany has. one half of all the manufactures of the country are produced domestically--that is, without motive power or machinery. no industry in russia is fully up to the needs of the people when judged by the standards of other countries. for example, notwithstanding the severity of the climate, only two pounds of raw wool per inhabitant are consumed in russia's woollen manufactures, as against seven pounds consumed in germany, and the total annual value of all manufactures is only $20 per inhabitant, as against $56 in germany, and $88 in britain. notwithstanding these unfavourable comparisons, the factory industries of russia are making progress. in seventy years the textile factories have increased fivefold and in thirty years twofold. in sixty years the cotton-manufacturing industry has increased sevenfold, and in fifteen years twofold. until recently russia exported wool. now she imports more wool than she exports. ninety years ago in russia iron was dearer than bread, and the peasants used wooden plough-shares and left their horses unshod. now the consumption of hardware, though still per inhabitant the smallest in europe, is yet in the aggregate the fourth in europe, although even so it is only two ninths what it is in britain. beet-root sugar-making is also a new industry, and 500,000 tons are made annually, the number of sugar works being 235. the beet-root crop of the country amounts to nearly 6,000,000 tons annually. but the consumption of sugar per inhabitant is only seven pounds annually, as against eighteen pounds per inhabitant in germany. a universal industry throughout russia is tanning, and russia leather, with its fragrant birch-oil odour, is a highly prized commodity the world over. but the amount manufactured is only 114,000 tons yearly, and the quantity exported is inconsiderable. russia's railways and navigable rivers the most characteristic physical feature of european russia is its _flatness_. in consequence its rivers are almost all navigable, and, as the most important of them are interconnected by canals, the facilities for transportation which they afford are very considerable. altogether the length of inland navigation thus afforded amounts to nearly 47,000 miles. this abundance of navigation facilities has retarded the growth of railways, but there are already 25,756 miles of finished railway in european russia alone. the total length of railway in all russia built and in building is 34,849 miles. the most important railway enterprise in the empire is the trans-siberian railway, which will afford through communication from the baltic to the pacific. the shortest possible distance between these two bodies of water is 4500 miles. the length of the railway will be 4950 miles, and its cost, it is supposed, will be $120,000,000. it is to be completed by 1905. russia's cities and towns [illustration: moscow.] st. petersburg (with suburbs 1,267,000), the capital of russia, is, like most european capitals, an important trade centre as well as the seat of government. its manufactures are general and numerous, but the chief ones are those concerned in making munitions of war. until 1885 st. petersburg was not a seaport, but in that year a canal was built which now permits vessels drawing twenty-two feet of water to enter its docks. its harbour, however, is closed with ice from november to may. near st. petersburg is reval, the chief cotton port of russia. the raw cotton importation of russia averages about $60,000,000 annually, most of which comes direct from the united states. moscow (988,000), the ancient capital of russia, is also a great manufacturing city, but its principal importance is derived from the fact that it is the great centre of the internal trade of russia. warsaw (615,000), the capital of polish russia, is a great railway centre, and the principal entrepôt of railway traffic between russia and the rest of europe. lódz (315,000), also in polish russia, is the great cotton-manufacturing centre of the empire. odessa (405,000) is the chief seaport of russia. it has an immense export trade in grain, tallow, iron, linseed, wood, hides, cordage, sailcloth, tar, and beef. riga (283,000), the chief port of russia on the baltic, has a large export trade with england in characteristic russian produce. kieff (249,000) is the centre of the russian sugar-refining industry. astrakhan (113,000), on the volga delta, is noted for its sturgeon fisheries, and its export of caviare, amounting, it is said, to $1,500,000 yearly. tula (111,000) is the sheffield of russia. even in 1828 there were 600 cutlery establishments in tula, but the manufacture was then principally domestic. it is now a city of factories, for it stands on a large coal and iron field. nijni-novgorod (99,000) is noted for its fair, an asiatic institution which modern civilisation will no doubt soon disestablish. once a year merchants to the number of 200,000 come to nijni-novgorod from all over russia, and even from india and china, to exchange their wares. the value of the exchange sometimes amounts to $100,000,000. orenburg (73,000), on the ural, is the terminal depot of the caravan trade of asiatic russia. archangel (25,000), on the white sea, is the chief emporium of trade in the north, with exports of characteristic northern produce. baku, on the caspian sea, is the chief seat of the petroleum industry of russia. all the towns and cities above named have grown enormously during the last twenty years. vi. the trade features of india india's past and present compared to the student of civilisation india is one of the most interesting countries in the world. it has always been one of the most fertile and populous regions of the globe. for centuries it was thought to be one of the richest. in consequence it has, time and time again, been the scene of invasion, conquest, and spoliation. but its riches never consisted so much in natural treasure as in the savings of an industrious and frugal people. since the year 1600 european nations have had much to do with india, especially england, france, portugal, and holland. during the last 140 years, however, england has been the dominant power there. whatever may be said as to the motive of england's interference in india's affairs in the first place, it can only be said that the present influence of england in india is immensely beneficial to the country. india's prosperity on the whole is now comparable with that of any civilised nation on the globe. and a people that once, because of repeated conquest and spoliation, had lost all sense of honour and self-respect, are now, under the benign influence of peace, law, order, and security, rapidly becoming honourable, self-reliant, and enterprising, and ambitious to possess all the rights and privileges of modern civilisation. india's size and population india is a much larger and more populous country than most people think it to be. in shape it is somewhat like a huge kite, each of whose diameters is over 2000 miles long, or more than the distance across the atlantic from ireland to newfoundland. its territory is about 1,700,000 square miles. of this area, over 1,000,000 square miles, a territory considerably greater than the territory of all the states of europe (including the british isles) except russia, is directly under british control. the remainder is indirectly under british control. the population is 308,000,000, of which 236,000,000 are directly under british control and 72,000,000 indirectly so. this population is made up of people who speak seventy-eight different languages, of which twenty languages are spoken by not less than 1,000,000 persons each. india's great fertility india owes much of its fertility to the fact that its soil is constantly being replenished by alluvium brought down from its high mountains by its immense rivers. the valleys of the indus (1800 miles long), the ganges (1600 miles long), and the brahmapootra (1500 miles long) include an area of 1,125,000 square miles, a part of which, the indus-ganges plain, consists of a great stretch of alluvial soil whose fertility is as rich as that of any portion of the globe. one hundred and eighty millions of people live in this plain. so finely pulverised is its soil that for a distance of almost 2000 miles not even a pebble can be found in it. and so fertile is it that there are some agricultural districts in the plain where the population exceeds 900 to the square mile. in that part of the plain which the ganges waters, 60,000,000 of people find support on the soil by agriculture, at a density of over 700 persons to the square mile, which is 140 persons more to the square mile than the density of belgium, the most thickly populated country in europe. india's irrigation canals and river embankments but, fertile as is the soil of india, and propitious to agricultural industry as is its climate generally, its climate is not always favourable. it suffers periodically from excess of drought. as a consequence artificial irrigation has to be resorted to, or much of this fertile country would oftentimes be a desert. in british india alone 28,000 miles of irrigation canals are under the control of the government, 14,000 of which have been constructed by the present (british) government--works of vast dimensions and the highest engineering skill. altogether 28,000,000 acres in british india are dependent for their necessary supply of moisture upon general irrigation, and 8,000,000 upon irrigation canals. were it not for these irrigation canals, 2,000,000 acres in scinde (northwestern india) would be a perpetual desert, for scinde is almost wholly rainless. on the other hand, in a great part of india the rainfall is excessive. some districts indeed are the wettest on the globe. in assam, for example (which is also one of the hottest places in india), the rainfall is 600 inches yearly, and it has been 650. as a consequence rivers in india often overflow their banks. therefore to protect the country on the lower river reaches from floods the british government has built over 1500 miles of embankments. india's mineral resources at one time india was famed for its wealth in precious minerals and precious stones. poets often celebrated its golden resources. but its wealth in this respect was always fabulous rather than real. india is in reality poor in minerals. it has a good deal of iron--iron of the choicest quality. it has also a good deal of coal, but its coal is poor, owing to its superabundance of ash. it has also a little copper and tin. it has gold-mines that are worked. diamonds, too, are found in southern india, and numerously so. the celebrated koh-i-nur (280 carats) was an indian product. but neither diamond-hunting nor gold-mining is any longer a profitable industry in india. the principal mineral industry of india is salt-mining, pursued in the punjaub, where there are solid cliffs of pure salt. owing to the fact that the people of india are mostly vegetarians (250,000,000 of hindoos would rather die than eat flesh), salt is a necessary article of diet and a universal commodity. its production, therefore, is controlled by the government as a means of raising revenue. india's wonderful agricultural resources [illustration: comparative sizes of india and the united states.] the real wealth of india lies in the luxuriance and economic value of its vegetation. as a consequence the principal industry is agriculture. only one tenth of the people live in towns. two thirds of the adult males in the country are engaged wholly in tilling the soil. every sort of agricultural product known to commerce is raised in india; for from the high levels on the mountain sides to the low levels on the coasts the vegetation of the whole world is produced within its borders. even in wheat india competes in the world's markets with countries like russia and argentina. in 1896 british india had 19,000,000 acres of wheat under cultivation, and (though a dearth year) an exportation of $4,000,000. in 1892 the exportation was $25,000,000. the district known as the central provinces of india has become one of the most important wheat areas in the world. but the principal agricultural product of india is rice. british india alone has 70,000,000 acres of rice under cultivation, and an annual exportation of $60,000,000. in all the coast regions rice is grown universally, and also in the lower parts of the river plains, especially in the ganges valley. it is the staple food of the people everywhere except on the higher levels. on the higher levels millet and maize (corn) are the staple foods. the next important agricultural product of india is cotton, of which $47,000,000 worth in the raw state is exported annually, besides what is used at home. the american civil war was the great cause of the starting of the cotton-growing industry in india. the next important agricultural product is jute, of which the export in the raw state is about $35,000,000. no country in the world can compete with india in the production of this fibre, for jute is very exhaustive of the soil, and in the ganges valley, where it is principally raised, the soil is annually replenished by alluvium. a fifth great agricultural product is tea, in which india now leads the world. england uses twice as much india tea as china tea, the reason being that india teas are produced with all the economic care of a high-class english or american manufactured product. the value of the tea export of india is about $27,000,000. other chief agricultural products are opium (which is a government monopoly), oil seeds, hides, and skins, indigo (in which india excels the world, the value of the export being $14,000,000), coffee (the best grown anywhere--except perhaps that of arabia and java--though the bean is sometimes injured in transit), raw wool, lac (for dyeing), cinchona or peruvian bark (which since it has been raised in india, has greatly reduced the price of quinine), raw silk, raw sugar, tobacco, and spices. spices are produced abundantly in india, but their quality is not equal to east indian spices. also the cotton, rice, sugar, and tobacco of india, though produced plentifully, are inferior in quality to those of the united states. nor are the wheat and corn of india so good as the wheat and corn of the united states and canada. improved cultivation will, however, in time improve the quality of all these products. of exports of natural products not agricultural the principal are wood (chiefly teak, the most valuable timber known for ship-building, and sal, a most valuable wood for carpentry) and saltpetre. india's growing manufactures though india is now chiefly an agricultural country her people from time immemorial have been adepts in manufacturing. the domestic textile manufactures and the domestic metal manufactures of india were for ages among the most beautiful and ingenious in the world. these domestic manufactures are principally pursued in small villages, of which there are over half a million in india. but under the influences of modern civilisation introduced by british rule, the domestic industries of the country are now giving way to factory industries. these have already become well established, and are rapidly increasing in number and importance. the stability of india as a nation is now so well assured that capital can be had there as cheaply as in england or the united states. besides, co-operative or joint-stock enterprises are becoming common. the indian people, with their natural aptitude for weaving, make the best of textile operatives, and india bids fair soon to become a formidable rival of western nations in textile manufactures. in twenty years the cotton spindles have increased sixfold. in ten years the cotton output has increased twofold. bombay has become one of the greatest cotton centres in the world, a sort of liverpool and manchester combined. it has practically shut the doors of india to english manufactured cottons of the cheaper grades. bombay manufactured cotton is even sent to england in immense quantities, but the principal export is to china. the total export of indian manufactured cotton is $23,000,000. another important modern manufacture is that of jute. the jute factories of bengal are now competing with those of scotland, and the total export is $17,500,000. a similar development is expected in iron manufactures, for already iron-smelting has begun. but, notwithstanding these developments, india still remains a tremendous market for the manufactured goods of england, especially in cottons and hardware and machinery. the value of the annual cotton importation from england is $100,000,000, equal to the total of england's exportation of goods of every sort to the united states. the value of the annual hardware and machinery importation from england is $35,000,000. india's external and internal trade the total yearly value of the exports of india amounts to the enormous sum of $350,000,000, more than a third of the total exportation of the united states for the banner year 1897.[2] of this england receives about one half. the total yearly value of the imports of india (exclusive of bullion) amounts to $255,000,000, which is considerably more than a third of the total importation of the united states. of this england sends out about two thirds. (india is therefore england's best customer, although from the united states england purchases vastly more.) of the internal trade of india no statistics are available, but with the rapid advances in modern conveniences for doing business which the country is adopting, the internal trade is also enormously increasing. already 20,290 miles of railway are built and opened, and 13,000 miles of canals and canalised river navigation. railways are rapidly being constructed in every part of the country. over 31,000 miles of metalled roads for highways and 106,000 of unmetalled roads are now maintained by the government as public works. there are 38,000 miles of telegraph routes. the government highways and canals as well as the railways are all splendidly engineered and solidly built works. the greatness of india is only just beginning. footnote: [2] the total exports of the united states for the years 1898 and 1899 have exceeded $1,200,000,000, each year. in the year 1897 they were about $1,050,000,000. india's cities and towns calcutta (862,000) is the capital of the empire of india and the second city in the british empire. although situated on an arm of the delta of the ganges, eighty miles inland, calcutta is an immense seaport, but its sea-going privileges can be maintained only by great engineering works, because of the silt which the ganges is constantly bringing down and depositing in its seaward channels. calcutta enjoys almost a monopoly of the whole trade of the ganges and brahmapootra valleys, and until the building of the suez canal it had almost a monopoly of the outward trade of the whole hindustan peninsula. its total trade is even yet very large, aggregating for outward and inward business together about $700,000,000 per annum, a sum which can be appreciated from the fact that it is about equal to the total import trade of the whole of the united states. bombay (822,000), the second city of the indian empire, owes its eminence to three things: (1) the opening of the suez canal, which has made it the port of india nearest england; (2) the starting of the cotton-growing industry in india, owing to the american civil war (the cotton-growing district of india is adjacent to bombay); and (3) the development of the railway system of india, which is making bombay rather than calcutta the natural ocean outlet for the trade of the country. madras (453,000), the third city of india, is also the third seaport. but it has no natural harbour, and its shore is surf-beaten and for months together exposed to the full fury of the northeast monsoons. an artificial harbour, however, has recently been built. besides the cities above mentioned there is one (hyderabad) with a population of over 400,000; there are two (lucknow and benares) with a population of over 150,000 each, and eleven more with a population of over 100,000 each. there are besides forty-seven towns with a population more than 50,000 each, and over a thousand towns with a population of about 10,000 each. vii. the trade features of china the vastness of china's area and population china, to the student of commerce, is the most interesting country on the globe. the reason for this is that its area is so large, its population so vast, and its chances for development so magnificent. the total area of the empire, according to late estimates, is 4,218,401 square miles. other estimates make it 4,468,470 square miles. the greatness of this area may be understood from a few comparisons. it is about one twelfth of the total land surface of the globe. it is two and one fourth times the size of european russia. it is almost one and one half times the total area of the united states, exclusive of alaska. but all of this territory is not of equal commercial interest. the chinese empire consists of six parts: china proper, manchuria, mongolia, tibet, jungaria, and eastern turkestan. because of recent treaties, which give to russia the right to build and "control" railways in manchuria--ostensibly for the purpose of securing for the great russian trans-siberian railway a shorter route to vladivostok, its pacific terminus--manchuria becomes practically a russian possession. turkestan, jungaria, tibet, and mongolia are thinly inhabited countries, scarcely semi-civilised. but the part which remains when these "dependencies" are left out of consideration--china proper--is at once one of the largest, most thickly populated, and most fertile countries on the face of the globe, and one also of the most richly endowed in mineral products. its area is 1,336,841 square miles. its population is 386,000,000. its population per square mile is not far short of 300. that is to say, its area is more than eleven times that of great britain and ireland, and almost one half that of the united states, exclusive of alaska; its population is ten times that of great britain and ireland, and more than six times that of the united states; while its population per square mile is greater than that of any european or american country except great britain (which, however, it nearly equals), holland, and belgium. in fact, more than one fourth of the total population of the globe is concentrated within the boundaries of china proper. china a country of great trade possibilities the great commercial nations of the world are now all trying to get shares of the trade of this vast and populous country. for not only is china (proper) large and populous, but it is also wealthy, for its inhabitants are both industrious and frugal, and, besides, as compared with the people of european countries they have been greatly spared the disastrous commerce-destroying effects of war, both foreign and internecine. centuries ago the chinese had made great progress toward civilisation. their skill in the manufacturing arts, and in agriculture and horticulture, was for ages superior to that of western nations. but, unfortunately for their advancement, they are conservative, self-conceited, and averse to improvement, especially if they have to learn improvement of others. as yet they have almost wholly ignored the ideas and methods of modern western civilisation. they have scarcely any railways, but few steamships, almost no steam-power manufactories, and no telephones. the only modern improvement which they have made much use of is the telegraph. some years ago (in 1876) a european company secured the privilege of building a short railway from shanghai, but it was scarcely built before the government got fearful of its influence and bought it up and stopped its running. but the chinese people are not averse to foreign trade; on the contrary, they are rather fond of it. if only the thing could happen in china that happened in japan--that is to say, if only the government could fall into the hands of rulers who were open-minded to improvement and inclined to be progressive--the rush that china would make toward civilisation and the adoption of modern trade methods and modern processes of manufacture would be startling. china's foreign trade at present the foreign trade of china is largely in the hands of the english. in the year 1896 the foreign export trade of china amounted to $167,000,000. of this amount $132,500,000 was with great britain and her dependencies; $10,000,000 with the united states; something over $8,000,000 with the continent of europe exclusive of russia, and less than $2,000,000 with russia. in the same year the foreign import trade of china was $102,500,000, of which $56,000,000 was with great britain and her dependencies; a little over $9,000,000 with the united states; $15,000,000 with the continent of europe exclusive of russia, and $12,500,000 with russia. (the rest of her trade was principally with japan.) the policy of the government of china has always been to prevent or restrict foreign trade; and even to-day foreign trade can be carried on in only twenty-six chinese ports--the so-called "treaty ports." the policy of great britain has been to secure by treaty as large a privilege of trading with china as possible; then to throw open the privilege to the world, but to follow it up with such commercial activity on her own part as would secure to her the lion's share of the resulting trade. of the twenty-six ports now by treaty open to the world for trade, twenty-three have been secured by great britain and three by japan. china's exports, imports, and resources china's principal exports are tea and silk, tea constituting about one third and silk (principally raw silk) fully one half of her total export trade. other principal exports are sugar, straw braid (one twentieth of her total exportation), hides, paper, chinaware, and pottery. her principal imports are opium and cotton goods, opium constituting a fifth, and cotton goods considerably more than a half, of her total import trade. other principal imports are woollen goods, metal goods and machinery, coal, and kerosene oil. a considerable importation is also made of raw cotton. but if china only had the blessing of an enlightened and progressive government this disposition of exports and imports would not long continue. china's resources of coal are among the finest and certainly among the largest in the whole world. her coal-fields, indeed, are estimated to be twenty times as great as those of all europe combined. much of this coal, too, is of the purest quality, and much of it very accessible to the miner. and near her coal-fields are vast deposits of some of the richest iron ores in the world. again, a great portion of the soil of china is extremely fertile. there are indeed two regions, one of "red soil" and another, much vaster, of "yellow soil," that are among the most fertile in the world. it is because of the extent and fertility of the yellow soil of china that "yellow" is the imperial colour, and the emperor called the "yellow lord." the climate, too, of china permits almost the whole range of useful vegetable products to be raised. the growth of cotton is already very great, because for seven centuries cotton has been the staple cloth for the clothing of the people. and already it is being manufactured by modern machinery. but both the growth of cotton and its manufacture by modern methods would be enormously increased if only facilities for internal transportation existed, and freedom from unjust taxation could be secured. if, in short, china only had railways and a good and enlightened system of government her progress and prosperity would soon make the western world envious. but her government is not only stupidly unprogressive, it is also disastrously wasteful. about seventy per cent. of the whole revenue of the country is lost to the public use through the malfeasance of officials. and only about 85 miles of railway have as yet been opened, although it must be said that 200 or 250 miles more are under construction. possibilities of increased foreign trade with china there are, however, even now several ways in which foreign trade with china may be increased. two of these are the supplying her people with woollen goods, and the supplying them with wheat and flour. the winters of a great part of china are so cool that warm garments are necessary. at present these are made principally of padded cotton. owing to the density of the population pasturage is scarce, and sheep are almost unknown. for an indefinite time, therefore, there will be a demand for woollen goods in china, a demand that will constantly increase as the superior convenience of woollen garments over garments of padded cotton becomes more and more known to the people. and though rice is now the staple food of the people even of all classes, the wealthy classes are fond of wheat bread and obtain it when possible. but the agriculture of the country does not permit of the profitable growth of wheat and flour, and wheat if used must be imported. the principal trading cities of china the cities of china are large and numerous. peking (1,500,000?), the capital, is not open to foreign trade. in fact, it has no trade of any sort, and derives its whole importance from being the seat of government. but tientsin (750,000), the port of peking, and an important "treaty port," has a large trade, both foreign and local. tientsin and peking are connected by rail, and since the russian government has obtained the right of connecting peking with the trans-siberian railway, it is more than likely that in time tientsin will become a terminus of that railway. of "treaty ports" other than tientsin the principal are shanghai, hankow, foochow, hangchow, amoy, and canton. shanghai (405,000) exceeds all other ports of china put together in the amount of its foreign trade. its foreign trade is, indeed, almost three fifths of that of the whole empire. and of the total number of foreigners residing in china (in 1896 said to be 10,855, of whom 4362 were british subjects and 1439 americans) about one half reside in shanghai. shanghai is, indeed, the new york of china, and if railways were only built from it (as has been proposed) to the capital, peking, and up the yang-tse-kiang to hankow, and by way of the coast cities to canton, china would begin a new era in her career. hankow (800,000), on the yang-tse-kiang, about 700 miles from its mouth, is the chief emporium of the tea-producing area of china. ocean-going steamships ascend the river to hankow for their cargoes. foochow (650,900) also has a great tea export trade. hangchow (700,000), one of the most beautiful cities in china, is also the chief city for the manufacture of silks, and of gold and silver ware, lacquered ware, and fans. amoy (100,000) has the best harbour in china and an immense import trade, ranking in that respect next after shanghai. canton (2,000,000?) is the largest city in the chinese empire. a considerable portion of its inhabitants live in boats. of these "house-boats" there are said to be 40,000. the foreign trade of canton is next to that of shanghai. once it was superior, now it is much inferior. its manufactures, however, are still important and include silk, cotton, glass, porcelain, paper, sugar, lacquered ware, and ivory goods and metal goods. nanking (150,000), once the capital of china and once the largest city in the world, is now comparatively a small city. although a treaty port, its commerce is not important. it was once famous for its beautiful tower of porcelain, 200 feet high, but that is now destroyed. there are many other large cities in china. [illustration: china and its chief trade centres.] hongkong hongkong (245,000) is a small island belonging to great britain situated in the mouth of the canton river, seventy-five miles from the city of canton. its population is made up principally of chinese, who have been attracted there by its trade privileges. the british population is only 13,000, even including the garrison of 2800. almost the whole population reside in the capital, victoria, for the island itself is a barren rock. forty-four per cent. of the total foreign trade of china passes through hongkong. its harbour is one of the finest in the world. it has magnificent docks. its port is entirely free, and there is even no custom-house. it is calculated that the foreign trade transacted by its merchants amounts to $100,000,000 a year, exclusive of what passes through its port without breaking bulk. the whole of the vast export trade of china in silk and tea is largely handled by hongkong firms. other commodities of which hongkong is the chief trade centre for china are opium, flour, salt, earthenware, oil, cotton, and cotton goods and woollen goods, which it imports from other countries and exports to china; and sugar, rice, amber, sandal-wood, ivory, and betel, which it imports from china and exports to other countries. its trade is not confined to great britain, but includes france, germany, the united states, and all other trading nations. but of course great britain has the greatest share. viii. the trade features of japan japan the great britain of asia japan consists of a group of islands situated to the east of the continent of asia, somewhat as the british isles are situated to the west of the continent of europe. but the japan islands are of volcanic origin and are very numerous. there are said to be 4223 of them. however, there are only four that are of important size, and it is these that are usually thought of when japan is spoken of. the area of these four islands is 147,655 miles, which is almost a fourth more than that of great britain and ireland. the population (census of 1895) is 42,270,620, which is 4,000,000 more than that of great britain and ireland. the population per square mile is 286, which, though large, is not quite so large as that of great britain. if, however, we do not take into consideration the northern island (yezo), which is still partly inhabited by uncivilised aborigines, the population per square mile is 375, which is considerably in excess of that of both china and great britain and ireland, though still considerably less than that of england alone. the above statistics do not include the island of formosa (area 13,500 miles, population almost 2,000,000), which was transferred from china to japan in 1895, at the close of the late chino-japanese war. japan's wonderful transformation the significant thing about japan is the rapidity with which it has become transformed from a semi-civilised nation into one of the great nations of the modern world. until the year 1868 japan was an unprogressive, unenlightened country of the usual asiatic type, scarcely differing in any way from an inland province of china of to-day. in that year a revolution took place which put the whole power of the empire into the hands of the present mikado, or emperor. immediately japan began to assimilate western ideas of civilisation and to adopt western methods of trade, commerce, manufacture, government, and education. until 1889 the government remained an absolute monarchy. in that year the mikado voluntarily promulgated a constitution by which a legislative parliament, or "imperial diet," and an executive cabinet of state ministers were instituted, so that the government of japan is now as "constitutional" as that of germany or great britain. the government is in other ways thoroughly modern. education, for example, is almost as well looked after as in germany or new england. there are 220 kindergartens established, 97 technical schools, and 49 normal schools for the training of teachers (one being for the training of high-school teachers), besides elementary schools, middle schools, high schools, special schools (1263 of these), and universities. the university of tokio is an imperial institution, supported entirely by the government, with colleges in law, science, medicine, literature, engineering, and agriculture. education, between the ages of six and fourteen, is compulsory. the army, too, is wholly a modern affair. it consists of 285,000 men, and an idea of its modernness may be gathered from the fact that an important part of its organisation is its training schools and colleges. even the non-commissioned officers are specially trained and educated. altogether the students in the military schools and colleges of japan number 2400. the navy, too, as is well known, is both modern and efficient. it consists of 5 battleships and 15 high-class cruisers, besides 46 other vessels,--torpedo craft, gunboats, convoy ships, etc.,--and it is intended to build an immense fleet of 19 battleships and cruisers, and 100 torpedo craft in addition. japan's agriculture japan being of volcanic origin, much of its soil is unfit for cultivation. the total productive area amounts to less than thirty per cent., and even of this only a small portion is capable of being tilled by modern methods. at present only twelve per cent. of the whole surface of the country is devoted to agriculture, even including pasturing. there is, however, but little pasturing, and the principal implement of cultivation is the spade. the modern plough is unknown. but manure (principally domestic manure and fish refuse) is very generously used, and by this means the returns are abundant. the principal food crop is rice. other food crops are wheat, barley, and the soya bean, but these not numerously so. the principal cultivated products for purposes of commerce are the mulberry tree (for supporting the silkworm), the tea plant, the lacquer tree, and the camphor tree. rice also is grown for export as well as for home consumption, and cotton is very largely grown for home manufacture. no milk, butter, or cheese is produced, scarcely any meat, no wood, and scarcely any leather. (for boots and shoes paper is used instead of leather.) of cattle there are only 1,000,000, as compared with 10,000,000 in the british isles, although the population of japan is considerably the greater. of horses there are 1,500,000, and the raising of horses is much encouraged by the government, but principally for military purposes. horses, indeed, are but little employed. in cities, for purposes of carriage and cartage, men are used instead of horses. even in rural districts horses are unknown for farming purposes, and not even the hand-cart or wheelbarrow is used. everything is carried. fruit is much raised,--oranges, apples, walnuts, plums, peaches, and grapes,--but japanese fruits are of very inferior quality. flowers are raised everywhere in great variety and in great abundance, and the chrysanthemum is the emblem of the country and is used on postage stamps. japan's manufactures: their future possibilities the future of japan depends upon its manufactures, but these also are not without their difficulties. the mineral wealth of the country is very great, principally in coal and iron. on the northern island alone (yezo) the coal deposits are two thirds those of all great britain. unfortunately, however, owing to the mountainous character of the country, railways in japan are difficult to construct, and the transportation of coal or of ore is difficult and expensive. as the coal deposits and iron deposits are not near together charcoal has been used for smelting purposes. iron, therefore, so far, has not been produced profitably, and its production has decreased. but silver is mined abundantly, and also kaolin, or the raw material used in the manufacture of the beautiful porcelain of the country. copper and antimony are also large articles of export. the principal manufactures of japan as yet are the textiles, especially silk and cotton. in these modern methods are used, although so far the productions of the native domestic looms are superior to those of the factory looms. the production of textiles by machinery has increased fourfold in ten years, and now amounts to about $40,000,000 annually. this, however, is not a large amount, being less than the textile production of any important state in europe, even switzerland, or sweden and norway, and is only one twentieth that of the united states. until recently the factory owner in japan has had the advantage of cheap labour. but the japanese artisan is also becoming "modernised," and is now demanding higher wages, and enforcing his demand by "strikes." and for all their deftness in domestic manufacture japanese workmen are not yet as skilful in machine labour as british or american workmen. it follows, therefore, that textile manufacturing in japan, especially the manufacture of cotton and wool, is not yet out of its tentative or probationary stage. but japan, having the advantage of an extensive home market for cotton goods (like the chinese, the japanese common people wear cotton garments all the year round, in winter padding them for warmth), and having the raw material at her own door (she already grows a large proportion of all the raw cotton she needs), and having, too, an abundance of coal at hand, must needs become a great cotton-manufacturing country. the same conditions hold with regard to the possibilities of japan's silk manufactures. possibilities of increased foreign trade with japan as in the case of china, the possibilities of increased trade with japan lie principally in woollen manufactures and in breadstuffs. in addition there is a fair chance of increased trade in metal manufactures. the use of woollen garments in japan in winter is extending even to the middle and working classes. and inasmuch as the country does not raise sheep, and is, indeed, not well able to raise sheep, such woollen clothing, woollen cloth, or raw wool as is used must be imported. hitherto the woollen manufactures which have been established in the country have not been very successful, and the probability is that japan's import trade in woollen clothing and woollen cloths will increase year by year. similarly, from the fact that the agriculture of the country is not adapted to the growth of wheat, nor seems ever likely to be so adapted, and also from the fact that both the higher and the middle classes of japan are rapidly adopting european and american habits of living, it is very probable that the importation of wheat and wheat flour into japan will also continue to increase year by year. and from the difficulty there is of smelting iron cheaply it is probable that the importation of iron and iron goods (which in raw iron, iron and steel rails, iron small wares and nails, spinning and other machinery, and steel ships, already amounts to $8,000,000 a year) is likewise likely to increase greatly year by year also. japan's modern trade facilities owing to the irregular conformation of the surface of the country, good roads in japan can scarcely be said to exist. but 20,000 miles of roads have been built, of which the state maintains about one fourth. there are also 2505 miles of railway, of which the state owns and maintains about one fourth also. there are 11,720 miles of telegraph routes, with 37,000 miles of wire; 520 miles of telephone routes, with 6347 miles of wire; and 387 miles of submarine cable routes, with 1481 miles of wire. the country also has a merchant navy of 827 steam vessels of modern type and 702 sailing-vessels of modern type, besides 668 native craft. owing to the irregular and rocky nature of the coast-line and the great number of small islands which exist, numerous lighthouses are needed; but japan's lighthouse system is one of the best in the world. japan's foreign trade japan has a foreign trade of $60,000,000 annually in exports and $86,000,000 annually in imports. of the export trade the principal part, running from a fourth to a third, is with the united states. the next largest part is with france, the next with hongkong, the next with china, and the next with great britain. but great britain's direct share is not more than a twelfth. of the import trade the principal part, almost one third, is with great britain. the united states' share is about a twelfth, and that of france about one twenty-fifth. the principal exports are raw silk (about one third of the whole), silk goods (about one tenth of the whole), tea, coal, copper, rice, and matches. the export of matches amounts to $2,500,000 annually. characteristic exports, though they do not figure largely in the total amount, are floor rugs, lacquered ware, porcelain ware, fans, umbrellas, bronze ware, repoussé work, paper ware and papier-mâché, fibre carpets, and camphor. there is also a large export of fish, shellfish, cuttlefish, edible seaweed, and mushrooms to china and other asiatic countries. the chief import is raw cotton (almost one fifth of the whole). other important imports are sugar (although she raises almost 100,000,000 pounds of sugar herself annually), cotton yarn, cotton goods, woollen cloths, flannels and blankets, kerosene oil, watches, and articles of iron and steel as above enumerated. the fishing industry is a very important one and over 2,500,000 people are engaged in it. the number of fishing-boats is about 400,000. the fish trade, which includes seaweed, is (when not for home consumption) principally with china. [illustration: japan's relation to eastern asia.] japan's special trade centres the foreign commerce of japan, like that of china, is allowed to be carried on only at certain ports, called "treaty ports," of which there are nineteen, the principal being yokohama, osaka, nagasaki, hakodate, niigata, and kobe. the two principal cities, not treaty ports, are tokio and kioto. tokio (1,300,000) is the capital and chief centre of the political, commercial, and literary activity of the empire. in many respects tokio is a "modern" city. its educational features are excellent. its sanitation also is good. kioto (340,000) was formerly the capital, but after the revolution of 1868 it was superseded in this respect by tokio. yokohama (170,000), distant from tokio eighteen miles, is the chief place of the empire for foreign trade. its foreign trade, indeed, is more than half that of the whole empire, being about $75,000,000 annually. osaka (487,000) is in respect to population the second city of the empire, but its foreign trade is not large and is carried on principally at hiogo, a port near it. niigata (50,000) is the only treaty port on the west side of japan, the surf caused by the winter monsoon making the flat west coast of the country very dangerous for shipping for half the year. other important ports are kobe (161,000) and nagasaki (72,000). nagoya (215,000) is an important inland town. ix. the trade features of africa africa fifteen years ago within a period of about fifteen years the continent of africa has been the scene of a vast partition. at the beginning of that period the amount of african territory that was subject to european control was comparatively small. the british were firmly established in south africa, and had possessions along the coasts elsewhere principally in the west. the french were firmly established in algeria and in senegal. the portuguese had their ancient settlements in mozambique and lower guinea. morocco on the northwest and abyssinia in the northeast were more or less well-established governments that were independent. egypt in the extreme northeast, with tributary possessions extending along the nile into the far interior of the continent, was also a more or less well-established government that possessed a quasi-independence, though it was nominally dependent upon turkey. but elsewhere, except in a few other places controlled by european authority, the whole continent may be described as having been in its original state of savagery or semi-savagery. no government existed anywhere that was either beneficent or stable. the slave-traffic abounded everywhere. european spheres of influence in africa the european governments that had possessions in africa were all doing their best to suppress the slave-traffic. but they could not take very salutary steps in this direction without exercising authority beyond the territorial limits they were supposed to occupy. gradually, for these reasons, and also for the reason that they were all anxious to extend their commercial dealings in africa, they began to exercise authority beyond their old-time territorial limits. in this way began the establishment on the part of european nations of what are known as "spheres of influence" in africa. at first england and france were the only nations that were at all active in establishing these spheres of influence. later on germany and italy and other nations began to establish them also. beginning, therefore, with the years 1883 and 1884 there has been a general establishment and gradual extension of these spheres until now the whole continent has been practically parcelled out among a few european powers. the great partition of africa [illustration: the partition of africa.] the ancient empire of morocco still exists in an independent state. abyssinia, though italy attempted to subjugate it, is again also independent. the little republic of liberia is nominally independent. some territory in the very heart of the sahara or great desert is yet in its aboriginal independence. but elsewhere, throughout the whole continent, africa is either british, or french, or german, or belgian, or portuguese, or italian. spain's holding is not worth mentioning. italy's holding also is scarcely worth mentioning. portugal's holding has not been increased in the recent "scramble"--only made more definite. france's holding, however, has been enormously increased, and is now the largest (3,300,000 square miles), although much of the french area is barren desert, and much of the rest of it uninhabitable by white people. great britain's holding also has been greatly increased, but not nearly so much so as it would have been if in the earlier years of the scramble the british government had not been singularly blind to the actions of other governments in the matter. germany, too, has got a substantial holding (925,000 square miles). the kongo free state, which, though nominally independent, is practically under the suzerainty of belgium, and must look to belgium for the funds with which to promote its development, is also a substantial possession, being a little less than germany's holding--900,000 square miles. great britain in africa great britain's holding, however, in the partitioned continent comprises its best portions. much of africa is uninhabitable by white men. wherever, however, white men can live--except in northern africa--there great britain has managed to get control. excluding the shore of the mediterranean, the best part of africa, considered from the view points of colonisation and commerce, is what is now known as "british south africa." this is an immense area--an area of almost 1,000,000 square miles. it comprises (1) that whole southern portion of the continent known as cape colony, and (2) that portion of the great central plateau of the continent which extends from cape colony northward to lakes nyassa and tanganyika--all except the two boer republics, the orange free state and the south african republic. british east africa (800,000 square miles) includes the territory of uganda, north of lake victoria, a territory which from the character of its native population and its possibilities of trade has been called the "pearl of africa." british west africa (500,000 square miles) includes the basin of the lower niger, the most densely peopled area in all africa, the seat of the great fula-hausa empire of sokoto-gandu, the wealthiest and greatest trading nation in the continent. furthermore, in the northeast, great britain exercises "protectorate control" over egypt--a control that is likely to be instrumental in reclaiming for egypt, and thus for civilisation and commerce under british authority, the whole of egypt's ancient possessions along the nile as far at least as uganda. the total area of the british possessions in africa, exclusive of the two boer republics and egypt, is over 2,300,000 square miles. the "dominion of south africa" "south africa" is practically "british south africa." the german portion is either largely barren or else inaccessible. the portuguese portion is only a narrow strip along the east coast, much of which is too unhealthy for habitation other than by natives. the two boer republics are rapidly filling up with british people, are being developed by british capital, and must in time become confederated with the states that environ them. one of them, too, is already under british suzerainty. british south africa, however, is as yet only a name. it has no real existence except in hope. the aspiration of statesmen in southern africa is that all the territories of southern africa under british control shall form one confederation, and that in this confederation the orange free state and the south african republic shall join. the territories entering into this confederation would therefore be as follows: the self-governing colonies of cape colony and natal, the crown colony of basutoland, the protectorates of bechuanaland and zululand, the territory now administered by the british south africa company, popularly known as "rhodesia," and the british central africa protectorate, with in addition the two boer republics previously mentioned. the length of this proposed south african dominion would be 1800 miles. its width would be from 600 to 800 miles. and, as said above, its area would be about 1,000,000 square miles. mr. stanley predicts that in a hundred years the "dominion of south africa" will have a white population of 8,000,000, and a coloured population of 16,000,000. south africa's agricultural possibilities of south africa as above defined cape colony and natal are at present the most important portions. their climate is in some respects the finest in the world. their soil is of remarkable richness. the number of distinct species of indigenous plants found upon it is greater than for any other equal area on the globe. the same remark was once true of the animals found in south africa, which again is testimony to the great fertility of the soil. but a serious drawback is the insufficiency and uncertainty of the rain supply. irrigation, however, is practised, and wherever irrigation is possible the land may be made to blossom like the rose. agriculture, however, is only indifferently pursued. the vine in cape colony produces more abundantly, very much more abundantly than anywhere else in the world, and yet neither grape-raising nor wine-making can be said to be successful. pasturing is the principal occupation of the people in rural districts. there are 17,000,000 sheep in cape colony, and 6,000,000 goats. natal, which is warmer, has 500,000 sheep. another principal occupation is ostrich-farming. the ostrich, once wild in south africa, is now bred domestically. cape colony has 230,000 ostriches. ostrich feathers fetch from $150 to $300 a pound. the raising of cattle is another principal occupation, and draught cattle are much used for transport purposes. cape colony has 2,000,000 cattle; natal, 1,000,000. the principal food crops are wheat and maize, but little is raised for export. in natal, sugar is an important product, and also tea. many magnificent timber woods are found, but the trees are stunted and little timber is exported. much has been wasted by fires. the great agricultural possibilities of south africa are wool, mohair (the hair of the angora goat), fruit, wine, and skins. the breadstuffs of south africa will probably all be needed for home consumption. south africa's great mineral wealth all the world over south africa is famous for its diamond-mines and its gold-mines. the diamonds are found principally in griqualand, north of the orange river, now a part of cape colony, but they are also found in the orange free state. the diamond areas are very circumscribed, the diamond-bearing "pipes" being supposed to be craters of extinct volcanoes. the principal "pipes" are at kimberley (28,718), in griqualand. these constitute the richest diamond-fields in the world. it is estimated that over $350,000,000 worth of diamonds have been taken out of kimberley since their first discovery there in 1867. the largest south african diamond yet found was worth $300,000, but many other large ones have been found. the annual diamond export now is about $20,000,000. for 1896 the export was $23,200,000; for 1897 a little less. the production and export are strictly limited, so that prices may not depreciate. next in interest to the diamond-fields are the gold-mines. these so far have been found principally in the south african republic, or "transvaal" as it is popularly called, in the "rand," or "reef," near the far-famed town of johannesburg (102,078). since gold was first discovered in the rand (1871) $250,000,000 worth has been taken out. the annual output now is nearly $50,000,000, but it is estimated that before the rand can be exhausted $2,250,000,000 worth of gold must be taken out--an amount much greater than the total public debt of the united states, national, state, and municipal. but north of the transvaal, in rhodesia, especially in mashonaland, is a territory popularly called the "land of ophir," where mining operations are only just begun, but where gold is supposed to be even more richly stored than in the transvaal. of this district the newly built town of salisbury is the centre. other mineral products of south africa are coal in natal, mined at newcastle, and copper in the northwest of cape colony, shipped at port nolloth. south africa's foreign trade the import trade of south africa so far consists of almost everything needed by the inhabitants except meat, flour, vegetables, and fruit, for there are as yet almost no manufactures. the principal exports are: (1) gold, $60,000,000 per annum, including that from the transvaal; (2) diamonds, $22,500,000; (3) wool, $12,500,000; (4) mohair, the hair of the angora goat, $3,000,000; (5) ostrich feathers, over $2,500,000; (6) hides and skins, $2,200,000; and (7) copper ore, $1,250,000. the export of wine and fruit, for the production of which the country is so well suited, and also of grain, is inconsiderable. shipping ports and railways of south africa british south africa, like all of africa, is wanting in seaports. in fact, it has but few. however, it has one, walfish bay, which territorially does not belong to it, inasmuch as it is in the middle of the coast of german southwest africa--the only port in that coast. the principal port in british south africa is cape town (83,718), which is also the capital and principal place. the next principal ports are, for cape colony, port elizabeth (23,266) and east london, and for natal, durban. lorenzo marquez, on delagoa bay, and beira, at the mouth of the pungwe, both in portuguese east africa, are natural ports for northern british south africa, and are used as such, railways being constructed from them into the interior. railroad-making, indeed, is now the all-important matter in south africa. lines are already built from cape town, port elizabeth, east london, durban, and lorenzo marquez to the diamond-fields of kimberley and the gold-mines of johannesburg. these also give to the pastoral and agricultural parts of the interior facilities of access to the sea. but the line from cape town to kimberley is being rapidly extended northward to salisbury, the central point of the gold-fields of rhodesia, and already has reached bulawayo, 1600 miles from cape town. the line from beira is also to end at salisbury. already a telegraph line extending from salisbury northward has reached the west shore of lake nyassa, and by the close of this year (1898) it will reach the south end of lake tanganyika. it is proposed that the railroad from bulawayo shall follow this same route, and it is the dream (or shall we say the hope?) of the empire-builders of south africa that this railway shall before many years be so far advanced northward that it will meet the railway that is now being built from cairo southward through the continent along the nile. mr. stanley predicts that the "cape to cairo" railway will be an accomplished fact before 1925. the white population of south africa, even including the boer republics, is still less than 750,000. x. the trade features of australia australia and australasia the term australasia, as now generally used, comprises australia (including tasmania) and new zealand, and a number of small neighbouring islands. so used it practically denotes a british possession; for such islands as are comprised by the term and yet do not belong to great britain are comparatively unimportant. but when we speak of australasia, we are generally thinking of australia, for australia is so large and important that it seems to overshadow the other parts of australasia. but in respect to politics or commerce australia is not one country; it is divided into several self-governing colonies. these are, in order of importance, victoria, new south wales, south australia, queensland, and west australia. but a movement is now being made to unite all these colonies, and tasmania as well, into one "australian confederation," just as the several provinces of canada, which were once independent colonies, have been united into one "dominion of canada." this confederation scheme, however, has not yet been accomplished.[3] new zealand, because of its distance (1200 miles) from australia, has so far shown no desire to enter into this confederation. footnote: [3] since the above was written the scheme has been developed a very considerable way toward completion. the name of the confederation is to be "the commonwealth of australia." the area and climate of australia australia is a continent not only in name but in fact. its area, including tasmania, is almost 3,000,000 square miles, which is about the area of the united states exclusive of alaska, and only about one fourth less than the area of the continent of europe. fully two fifths of this area lie within the torrid zone, and of the rest, even in victoria, the part farthest from the equator, the climate is so warm that it corresponds with that of spain, southern france, and italy. but over so vast a territory great differences of climate must occur, and consequently of products also. a general description of the climate and products of australia is therefore impossible. yet there are several characteristics which appertain to the whole continent. the chief of these are (1) the great dryness of the atmosphere--not merely its lack of rain, but its absolute freedom from moisture; (2) the remarkable inequality, or want of regularity, in the rainfall. occasionally the rainfall is excessive, but a more frequent and serious cause of trouble is excessive drought. the continent on every side has a low coast region, where the rainfall is heavier and the temperature generally hotter than in the corresponding table-land interior to it. but the vast table-land of the interior has comparatively little rain, and indeed in some parts of it, especially in the centre and west, the rainfall is so slight that the country is practically a desert. but even when all the desert areas of australia are excluded from calculation there still remains in the interior plateau, toward the east and south, an immense area of country of great fertility and productiveness. the murray river alone drains an area of 500,000 square miles, one sixth of the whole continent, a great part of which is of exceeding richness. in these fertile parts irrigation by artesian wells has been tried, and always with great success. and it is thought that almost the whole continent can be regained for agriculture, or at least for sheep-pasturing, by similar means; for even in the arid and so-called desert parts of the interior, there is very little soil that is not really fertile, for all of it is covered with thick brushwood. moisture alone is needed to make it bear crops abundantly. and this dryness of the atmosphere which prevails throughout the whole continent is not without its compensations. it renders the climate exceedingly healthful. australia a continent of peculiarities australia has many peculiarities. it has only one large river, and even that in summer becomes a series of isolated pools. it has no high mountain range, its principal mountains being only a series of ramparts marking off the lower coast lands from the interior plateau. again, its native quadrupeds are entirely different from those of other continents, being almost all, whether little or big, "marsupials," or "pouch-bearers," like the kangaroo. its birds are mostly songless. its flowers, for the most part, have no scent. its trees are leaved vertically and cast no shade. its indigenous inhabitants have made no progress toward civilisation. when europeans first came to the country they found no native animal that could be put to any use, nor any native fruit, vegetable, or grain that could be utilised for food. still, all european domestic animals thrive abundantly in the country, and so do all european fruits, grasses, grains, and vegetables. the english rabbits, indeed, have become a terrible pest. as many as 25,000,000 of them have been killed in a year without any apparent diminution in their numbers. over $1,000,000 a year has at times been spent to exterminate them, all to no effect. victoria victoria, the smallest of the australian colonies, had until recently the largest population (june, 1897, 1,177,304) and also the largest trade. in both respects, however, it is at present surpassed by new south wales. victoria has owed its past pre-eminence to its gold production. gold was discovered in the colony in 1851, and for years the output of the precious mineral was not less than $50,000,000 per annum. the present output of gold in victoria, however, is only $10,000,000 per annum. richer, however, than the gold-mines of victoria is the fertility of its soil. a large part of the soil is exceedingly fertile--with irrigation one of the finest fruit-bearing soils in the world. the arboreal vegetation of the country is magnificent. trees thirty feet in diameter rise to the height of 200 feet without a single lateral branch, and then 100 feet to 200 feet higher still. pear-trees grow to the height of eighty feet, with trunks three feet in diameter. but as yet wool-growing, wheat-raising, and vine-growing are the principal agricultural occupations of the people. the principal agricultural export is wool--$25,000,000 worth per annum. but a considerable portion of this comes from new south wales. the sheep kept number 15,000,000, the cattle 2,000,000. but the colony still remains principally a mining community. five ninths of the population live in towns. yet there are few towns, and two fifths of the whole population live in melbourne--a city almost exactly as large as boston. melbourne melbourne (451,110; with suburbs, 500,000), the capital city of victoria and the chief city in australia, is also one of the most beautiful cities in the world. its parliament buildings, town hall, post-office, treasury, mint, law courts, public libraries, picture galleries, theatres, churches, and clubs are all edifices of architectural magnificence and beauty, while its boulevards, parks and gardens are equally splendid. at one time money flowed freely and great commercial recklessness prevailed. but though melbourne has sustained several severe depressions its present condition is prosperous and its future is assured. it is, however, a pleasure-loving city, and it is as much on this account as on account of its great beauty that it is called "the paris of the southern hemisphere." nowhere else in the world, perhaps, are indoor amusements--the theatre, concerts, etc.--or outdoor amusements--cricket, football, horse-racing, etc.--more devotedly patronised than in melbourne. other important places in victoria are ballarat (40,000) and sandhurst (37,000), both mining towns, and geelong (25,000) locally noted for its manufacture of "tweeds." new south wales [illustration: australia. shaded portions show where the rainfall is sufficiently abundant.] new south wales (population 1,311,440) is the oldest colony of australia and the parent of both victoria and queensland. of all the colonies, it has, perhaps, the greatest range of productions. on the low coast lands its soil is of extraordinary fertility, and even in the dry interior, when irrigation is employed, the fertility is still extraordinary. as yet, however, but one acre out of every two hundred is under cultivation, the chief agricultural occupation being pasturing. over 50,000,000 sheep are kept, principally the merino. grass grows everywhere, and even the summits of the mountains are covered. drought, however, is a terrible drawback, and sometimes tremendous losses occur. in 1877 over 8,000,000 sheep perished, and in 1884 over 12,000,000. the total wool production is very large, averaging $50,000,000 a year. the export of hides, skins, leather, and chilled meat, principally mutton, amounts to $10,000,000 annually. chilled mutton and beef are sent direct to london, though the passage takes five or six weeks by steamer and twelve to sixteen weeks by sailing-vessel. scarcely less important than its agricultural products are the mineral products of new south wales. its coal-mines are the finest on the continent, and $4,500,000 worth of coal is exported annually, besides what is consumed locally. its gold production, though not very large, is general throughout the whole colony. its silver-mines in silverton and broken hill are among the most famous in the world, and its tin-bearing lands comprise over 5,500,000 acres. the foregoing comprise the staple products--the production of industries already well established. but fruit-growing, including all fruits, from apples, pears, and peaches, to olives and oranges, is a rapidly developing industry, no country in the world being better suited to it. wine-making, too, is quickly coming forward, the new south wales wines equalling in flavour those of france and spain. wheat-growing, cotton-growing, and even rice-growing are also in their several districts rapidly extending and prosperous pursuits. the development of new south wales has only just begun. sydney (including suburbs 410,000) is the capital and by far the largest city. sydney, like melbourne, is a beautiful city, but its beauty is natural rather than artificial, and it is well entitled to its name, "queen of the south." it is situated on port jackson, one of the finest and most beautiful harbours on the globe. sydney is the headquarters of all the various lines of steamships--british, american, french, italian, etc.--that trade with australia, and is indeed one of the great seaports of the world. south australia south australia (358,224 in 1897) occupies the whole central part of the continent from north to south. but as only a very small portion of this vast area is settled--the southeast corner--it may be described as in characteristics resembling victoria. its principal industry is wheat-growing. south australia is indeed the great granary of the continent, and is destined to be one of the great granaries of the world. like the other divisions of australia, south australia, when once drought has been overcome by irrigation, is destined to become a great fruit country, its warm, moistureless climate being peculiarly well suited to the ripening of fruits of exquisite flavours. already its olives are pronounced the finest in the world. the principal city and chief port is adelaide (with suburbs 144,352). like other australian ports, adelaide possesses excellent steamboat shipping facilities. in the north, on the timor sea, is port darwin, likely to be an important trade centre. queensland the most interesting of all the australian colonies is queensland (population 472,179), for it is a tropical country with a climate so salubrious that white people can live in it and be comfortable and healthy. the heat, instead of being enervating, is stimulating and bracing. a great portion of its soil is of unsurpassed fertility. the only drawback is the unequal distribution throughout the year of the rainfall. but wherever irrigation wells are sunk the climate becomes highly suitable for sheep-raising, and also for the growing of many kinds of fruit. there are already 15,000,000 sheep and 5,000,000 cattle in the colony, and wool is exported to the amount of $15,000,000 annually. other agricultural exports are frozen beef and mutton, and hides and skins. wool is the chief export. the second export in importance is gold, which reaches $10,000,000 per annum. tin is also exported, and coal, though little worked, is abundant. developing exports are sugar ($2,500,000 per annum), arrowroot, cotton, tobacco, rice, and coffee. a difficulty, however, in the development of these products is the labour question. white men cannot work in the plantations. chinese prefer to work in the mines. the natives won't work anywhere. no negroes are obtainable. as a consequence polynesians have to be imported. brisbane (100,913) is the capital and chief city and port. west australia west australia (population 162,394), the largest of all the australian colonies, has only been recently settled, and its constitution as a self-governing colony dates only from 1890. a large part of its area has never been explored, and a large part is known to be scrub desert. but there is scarcely any part of it, even of its "scrub" areas, but that will support sheep when once artesian wells have been sunk, and large portions of the colony, especially along the coasts, are as fertile as need be. and the climate, though very dry, is exceedingly healthful. perth (43,000) is the capital. albany is the principal port. the immense resources of australia. its probable future australia is undoubtedly on the eve of a period of great development. its resources are known to be immense. its climate has been found most favourable to human health, and the objectionable feature of the climate, the smallness and irregularity of the rainfall, has been studied and become understood and found remediable. once the confederation that is now in process of formation takes place, there is no doubt that australia will enter upon a new and prosperous commercial era. owing to the fact that its chief opportunities for wealth lie in the development of its natural resources, it is probable that for some time to come almost all the manufactured goods australia needs will have to be imported. already its importation amounts to $275,000,000, of which, of course, great britain supplies the principal share. this importation is principally clothing and materials for clothing, but it also comprises hardware and machinery, and in fact everything required by a highly civilised and money-spending people, except breadstuffs and provisions. the magnitude of this importation may be comprehended from the fact that it is more than one third of the total exportation of the united states for any year save one up to 1896, including our immense export of breadstuffs, provisions, and cotton. and besides the articles of export already mentioned--wool, meats, hides, skins, minerals, fruits, etc.--there is one other australian resource that is capable of almost indefinite development. this is its timber. the eucalyptus or gum-tree prevails almost universally in australia, and some of its commonest varieties, being both strong and indestructible by insects, are of almost unequalled value for ship-building, railway ties, and dock and harbour construction. that the australians are fully alive to the importance of developing their foreign trade is seen in the efforts they have made to provide facilities for bringing their products to ocean ports. there are 11,980 miles of railway, almost every mile of which has been built by the governments. this is one mile of railway for every 300 inhabitants, as against one mile for every 400 inhabitants in the united states. these railways run wholly to and from the seaboard. there are no manufacturing towns to be catered to. australian trade consists wholly in exchanging home-raised natural products for imported manufactures. equally remarkable with the railroad enterprise of the australians is their enterprise in telegraphic construction and the establishment of cable communications. for example, a telegraph line 2000 miles long, running across the continent from adelaide to port darwin, has been built by the province of south australia so as to connect with a cable from port darwin to java, singapore, etc., and thus with europe and america. for at least 1500 miles this telegraph line runs through one of the most desolate and inaccessible regions in the world. xi. the trade features of south america south america, a fertile continent with drawbacks south america is an immense but very fertile continent, whose natural resources are as yet scarcely begun to be utilised. though not so large as north america, it has a far greater area of productive soil--and, indeed, much of its soil is quite unsurpassed in fertility. it suffers, however, from two great drawbacks. 1. a great portion of its area (four fifths) lies within the torrid zone. in the low coast regions of this torrid area, and also in the low forest regions watered by the great flat rivers of the interior, the climate is for the most part unendurable to white men. 2. south america has been unfortunate in its settlement and colonisation. until in recent years colonisation as understood in anglo-saxon communities has scarcely been attempted in south america at all. all the earlier immigrations from the old world were prompted by the thought of getting gold and silver and precious stones--if need were by the spoliation and enslavery of the natives. only a small proportion of the population--not more than a quarter of the whole--consists of whites, and these are principally from spain and portugal. these conquerors of the continent have not in the main succeeded in establishing either stable forms of government or high types of civilisation. furthermore, the mixed races--the mestizos or metis, as they are called, the descendants of the earlier europeans and the natives--instead of advancing in civilisation have for some time past been retrograding. then, again, there is a large negro element, the descendants of africans once imported as slaves, to still further complicate the race question; and there is a considerable element partly negro and partly indian. in only one state, argentina, can affairs be said to be really prosperous, and even in argentina the civilisation developed by its prosperity is gross and material rather than refined and intellectual. the next most prosperous and important states are brazil and chile. perhaps uruguay, though the smallest of all the states, should be placed after argentina. the remaining independent states of the continent--venezuela, colombia, ecuador, peru, bolivia, and paraguay--are all states of the prevailing south american type. their governments are more or less unstable. they are terribly burdened with debt, and their credit is such that they must pay high rates of interest. the civilisation once introduced among their native races by the zeal of spanish missionaries is deteriorating if not vanishing. and even among their leading classes there is much to be desired in the observance of the ordinary principles of right and wrong. european immigration in south america all the south american states enumerated above, with the exception of brazil, were first taken possession of and "settled" by the spanish, and the spanish language still remains in them the language of government, education, and society. brazil was first taken possession of and "settled" by the portuguese, and in brazil the portuguese language prevails, just as elsewhere in the continent the spanish language prevails. among the natives many different languages are found, but in brazil a "common language" is used, one introduced by the original portuguese missionaries, and understood by nearly all the tribes. between brazil and venezuela is a triangular piece of country called guiana, which, unlike the rest of south america, is still under the control of european powers. it consists of three parts--french guiana, dutch guiana, and british guiana--colonies of france, holland, and great britain, respectively. leaving out guiana, south america has received its entire civilisation from spain and portugal, and, with the exception of argentina, uruguay, and brazil, there has been little or no emigration to any south american country except from these two european countries. to argentina, however, there has been a large emigration from italy especially, but also from france, great britain (mainly from ireland and wales), germany, and sweden. a similar emigration has taken place to uruguay, though the foreigners in uruguay are principally basques, a people that live on the border-land between spain and france, but are neither spanish nor french. in brazil the immigration, where it has not been portuguese, has been chiefly italian and german, and in the temperate region of the extreme south of brazil a large german population exists. everywhere in south america the parts most prosperous are the parts that have come most directly under the influence of recent european emigration. the argentine republic the argentine republic, or "argentina," as it is popularly called, is the most prosperous and most important of all the south american states. its area (1,319,247 square miles) is equal to the total area of the states of the united states east of the mississippi and missouri, including the dakotas, missouri, arkansas, and louisiana. although a portion of this vast area is not of much value for agricultural purposes, especially in patagonia, a very large portion of it does consist of soil of great fertility, while the climate, which for the most part is a temperate one, is such as is well suited to europeans and white people generally. the population may 10, 1895, was 4,094,911. of this population it is estimated that over 850,000 are italians, 183,000 french, 161,000 recently emigrated spaniards, 60,000 english, and 54,000 germans and swedes. the language of the government and of the schools is spanish. at one time in argentina there was a disposition to take the united states as a model in everything, but of late years there has been a tendency toward taking france as a model in manners and customs. this disposition to imitate european peoples is particularly true of the wealthy classes. argentina's rapid progress the pride and boast of argentina has been its rapid progress. in the thirty years ending 1886 the immigration was over a million. from 1886 to 1889 it was from 100,000 a year to 200,000 a year. in 1890, owing to the financial crisis of that year, it fell away almost to nothing. since 1890 it has gradually increased until now it is about 100,000 a year again. in 1869 the population was only 1,837,000. now it is over 4,000,000. similarly the capital city, buenos ayres, has made an increase not easily paralleled. in 1869 its population was only 187,126. in 1887 it was 423,996. by the census of 1895 it was 663,854. to-day it is said to be 750,000. of this number about one half are foreigners. the high protective tariff established by argentina in 1878 had the effect of instituting many small industries in buenos ayres, and to this cause the exceedingly rapid growth of its population is partly attributable. argentina's agriculture and manufactures the great prosperity of argentina has been due to the extent and immediate availability of its agricultural resources, for its forest wealth remains undeveloped, and its mineral resources are comparatively scanty. its vast treeless and stoneless plains have needed no "improvements" to make them fit for settlement, and the soil which covers them being of virgin richness bears crop after crop without fertilising and with very little cultivation. immigrants arrive in the country without a dollar and in twenty years are owners of estates of 5000 acres each. in no country in the world has agricultural extension been more rapid. in twenty years the acreage under cultivation increased 1400 per cent. the amount under cultivation in wheat alone increased 2600 per cent. the wheat production averages 40,000,000 bushels, which is not far short of one fourth of the total wheat export of the united states. the production for 1897 was 60,000,000 bushels, although the amount exported was much less than that. the wheat product is indeed very variable, owing to droughts and locusts, for, like australia, argentina is uncertain in its rainfall. the corn crop is steadier, and in 1896 amounted (for export alone) to 60,000,000 bushels. more important in the aggregate than the direct products of the soil are the indirect products. there are 22,000,000 cattle kept in argentina, 75,000,000 sheep, and 4,500,000 horses. the total exportation of animals and animal products amounts to $70,-000,000. of this exportation the principal item is wool, the wool-clip of argentina being, in weight, one seventh of the total wool-clip of the world. unfortunately, however, argentina wool is very dirty, and when washed reduces to one third, while australian wool reduces only to two thirds or three fifths and is free from seeds. the profit accruing to the argentina wool-grower is thereby lessened. but, nevertheless, wool-growing in argentina is a very profitable industry, and many farmers (principally irish settlers) have from 50,000 to 100,000 sheep each. cattle-farming is carried on mostly by native argentines, and many cattle farms are stocked with as many as 10,000 cattle and 2000 horses each. the great exports of argentina, therefore, after wheat and corn and wool, are hides and skins, tallow, chilled beef, and mutton and bones. there are five factories in buenos ayres engaged wholly in chilling mutton, and the export of chilled mutton to great britain alone is $5,000,000 a year. another growing agricultural product is wine, the yearly production being 1,500,000 gallons. notwithstanding argentina's magnificent forest areas, but little timber is exported or even manufactured for home consumption. the other principal manufacturing industries are carriage-, cart-, and harness-making, cigaretteand match-making, preserving and tinning meat, brewing, flourand corn-milling, and the making of macaroni. buenos ayres [illustration: the most prosperous part of south america.] buenos ayres, the capital of argentina, is the largest city not only in south america but in the whole southern hemisphere. the la plata, at whose mouth it stands, affords navigation into all the northern parts of the republic, as well as into the neighbouring states of uruguay, paraguay, brazil, and bolivia. the riverside at buenos ayres is at all times of the year a perfect forest of masts and smoke-stacks belonging to the shipping that supplies this navigation. recently, at a cost of $25,000,000, the river, which here is shallow, has been deepened and new wharves and docks have been built, and ocean-going vessels of the deepest draught (which formerly used to be lightened fourteen miles away) can now unload or be loaded right in the very heart of the city. the total commerce of the republic amounts to $200,000,000 or $225,000,000 a year, and of this trade buenos ayres transacts seven eighths in imports and three fifths in exports. the amount of this trade secured by the united states is about a tenth, running from $12,000,000 to $24,000,000. in 1896 it was only $12,500,000. the principal export trade is with france ($24,000,000), great britain ($14,000,000), germany ($13,000,000), and belgium. great britain does not buy argentina wool. the principal import trade is with great britain ($45,000,000), germany ($14,000,000), france ($12,000,000), and italy. the buenos ayreans are fond of display and of dress and of ornamentation, and the importations from france and italy are principally of goods to gratify this fondness. there is a considerable exportation of wheat, flour, tobacco, and maté (paraguay tea) to brazil and other south american states. buenos ayres is the centre of the argentina railway system, which consists of about 9000 miles of road. there are 25,500 miles of telegraph routes. the national debt amounts to $430,000,000. the provincial debts amount to about $140,000,000. the taxation amounts to nearly ten per cent. of the earnings of the people, as against four and one half per cent. in canada and five per cent. in australia. brazil brazil is a much larger and more populous country than argentina. its area (3,209,878 square miles) is as large as that of all the united states, less half of alaska. a great portion of this area is of superlatively tropical richness of production. but, unfortunately, the most fertile parts of brazil are the parts least fit for settlement by white men. the population by the last census is approximately 14,500,000, but less than 4,000,000 of this population are pure whites. the negroes that were lately slaves number over 2,000,000, and there are supposed to be about 1,000,000 indians. intermediate between the indians and negroes and the white population are the numerous mixed races or half-breeds. agriculture is the chief industry, but is of two kinds: the tropical agriculture of the central and south central seaboard, which is carried on principally by negro and mulatto labour, and the agriculture of the temperate region of the extreme south, which is carried on mainly by colonists from europe, the recent european emigration being almost wholly directed toward that region. almost the whole of the interior of brazil still remains unsettled and untilled. the coffee yield of brazil is enormous and is its principal product. the production amounts to 8,000,000 bags or over 1,000,000,000 pounds annually, which is more than two thirds of the total amount of coffee used in the world. labour for coffee cultivation is scarce and dear, and in the earlier stages of the production of the berry the brazilian coffee gets badly treated. but machinery is used wherever possible, and in the later stages of the production the brazilian coffee gets the best attention that skill can devise. as a consequence the coffee product of brazil is rising in the estimation of coffee-users. the shrubs are cultivated under palm-trees so as to keep them from the intense heat of the sun. three or four harvests of berries are obtained in a year. rio janeiro and santos are the two chief centres of the coffee industry. next to coffee the chief tropical product is sugar, the export of which is about 250,000 tons annually, principally from pernambuco. other products of the tropical area of brazil are cocoa and cotton, from the cultivated coast regions, and rubber and brazil-nuts, from the dense forests of the lower amazon; also dyewoods and cabinet woods, drugs, and diamonds. for many years brazil was celebrated for its diamonds--obtained chiefly from a town in the interior named diamantina. the present diamond production is not large. from the temperate agricultural region of the south, dried beef, hides, and tallow are the chief exports. the greatest customer of brazilian produce is the united states, which takes $70,000,000 worth. great britain is next, with $35,000,000 worth (in rubber alone in 1896 $15,000,000). brazil gets her goods principally from great britain, the united states, france, and germany--from great britain $20,000,000, from the united states $13,000,000. the imports include almost all articles needed for domestic and manufacturing purposes--particularly cottons and woollens, ironware, machinery, lumber, flour, rice, dried meats, kerosene, butter, and fish. there are, however, 155 cotton factories established in brazil, with capital to the value of $50,000,000, and cotton manufacturing is protected by very heavy duties. but agricultural machinery and such like manufactures are very lightly taxed. the principal food of the people is manioc flour (tapioca). rio janeiro rio janeiro (674,972), the capital and principal city, though a poor-looking place, is situated on a magnificent harbour--one of the very finest in the world. about 1500 vessels, with tonnage amounting to 2,500,000 tons, enter rio janeiro with foreign trade annually. nine thousand miles of railway have been built in brazil and 3500 more are in course of construction, and 12,000 miles of telegraph routes have been built. rio janeiro is the chief railway centre, but other centres are rio grande do sul, in the temperate regions of the south, and bahia and pernambuco, in the tropical regions. the public (national) debt of brazil is not far short of $1,000,000,000, bearing interest (a great part of it) at from four to six per cent. per annum. xii. the trade features of canada canada, practically an independent federal republic the dominion of canada comprises all that portion of the continent of north america north of the united states--except alaska and newfoundland and the coast of labrador. (newfoundland and the labrador coast is a colony in direct relationship to great britain.) canada is entirely self-governing and self-maintaining, and its connection with great britain is almost wholly a matter of loyalty and affection. it consists (1) of seven provinces: ontario, quebec, nova scotia, new brunswick, prince edward island, manitoba, and british columbia, which, in their self-governing powers and their relation to the general government, correspond very closely to our states; (2) of four territories--assiniboia, alberta, saskatchewan, and athabasca, which correspond somewhat to our territories; (3) of four other territories--ungava, franklin, mackenzie, and yukon, which are administered by the general government; and (4) the district of keewatin, which is under the jurisdiction of the lieutenant-governor of manitoba. the capital of the whole dominion is ottawa. each province has its own capital. size, soil, climate, and population of canada the area of canada is immense. it figures up to 3,456,383 square miles, which is almost 500,000 square miles more than the total area of the united states exclusive of alaska, and not far short of being equal to the area of all europe. but almost 150,000 square miles of this area are taken up by lakes and rivers; and a much greater portion than this, under present conditions of civilisation, is wholly uninhabitable, being either too cold or too barren. yet when all the necessary allowances have been made there still remains in canada an immense area with soil fertile enough and climate favourable enough for all the purposes of a highly civilised population. over 900,000 square miles are already occupied, and of the occupied area fully one half has been "improved." the older provinces are, acre for acre, as suitable for agricultural pursuits as the adjoining states of the union. manitoba, the "prairie province," is almost one vast wheat field, with a productivity for wheat unequalled anywhere except in the red river valley of minnesota and dakota. the manitoba grain harvest foots up to 50,000,000 bushels. british columbia is a land of almost infinite possibilities, not only because of its mineral and timber resources, but also because of its capabilities for agriculture and fruit-growing. the territories are so vast an area that no general description of them is possible, but it may be said that the great wheat valley of the saskatchewan, the sheltered grazing country of alberta, and the great wheat plains of the peace river valley in athabasca, are regions adapted in soil and climate to sustain a hardy and vigorous people. the population of canada is comparatively small. it is estimated at 5,250,000. over 1,000,000 people of canadian birth reside in the united states, and the number of americans residing in canada is only 80,000. out of the 2,425,000 persons who came to canada as immigrants in a period of forty years, no fewer than 1,310,000, or fifty four per cent., came over into the united states. it is stated that this exodus has ceased, and that if any great movement of population now exists it is toward canada. canada's forest wealth canada, like all new countries, depends for her prosperity upon the development and exportation of her natural products. these are of four great classes: (1), the products of her forests; (2), the products of her mines; (3), the products of her fisheries; (4), her agricultural products. canada's forest resources, when both extent and quality are considered, are the finest in the world. the forest area uncut was in 1891 nearly 1,250,000 square miles, or more than one third of the area of the whole country. the annual value of the timber and lumber produced is about $82,500,000. the annual value of the timber and lumber exported is about $32,000,000. two thirds of this goes to great britain, and over $9,000,000 in lumber and logs goes to the united states. quebec and ontario have unlimited supplies of spruce for wood-pulp manufacture, the annual output of which reaches 200,000 tons. the uncut lumber of british columbia, which includes douglas pine, menzies fir, spruce, red and yellow cedar, and hemlock, is estimated to be 100,000,000,000 cubic feet. canada's mineral resources canada is just beginning to realise the largeness of her mineral resources. the most talked of gold-mines are those of the klondike district, the extent of which is still uncertain. much more definitely known and almost as productive are the gold-mines of british columbia and the newly discovered gold-fields of the rainy river district in northern ontario. more important than the gold-mines of canada are its coal-fields. these are principally in nova scotia and british columbia. the latter province is destined to be the coal-supplying region for the whole pacific coast of north america. the yearly output at present is about 1,000,000 tons; the yearly output of nova scotia is about 2,000,000 tons, principally produced by american capital. in alberta there are said to be coal-fields having an area of 65,000 square miles. iron is found in abundance in both british columbia and ontario. ontario has in its nickel-mines of sudbury a mineral treasure not found elsewhere in equal abundance in the world. experts have estimated that 650,000,000 tons of this ore are actually in sight. ontario produces petroleum and salt. silver, copper, lead, asbestos, plumbago, mica, etc., are found in varying quantities. canada imports annually from the united states nearly $10,000,000 worth of coal and coke. canada's fisheries the fisheries of the gulf of st. lawrence and of the shallow waters bordering on nova scotia and newfoundland have for centuries been the most productive in the world. the canadian fishing interest in these waters is very great. cod, mackerel, haddock, halibut, herring, smelts, and salmon, are the principal fish, and the annual "take" is about $15,000,000. about $2,500,000 worth of whitefish, salmon-trout, herring, pickerel, and sturgeon are produced annually from the canadian lakes. the salmon-fishing of the rivers and great sea-inlets of british columbia brings about $4,500,000 annually. about one half of the total product is exported to great britain and the united states. canada's agricultural produce agriculture, including stock-raising, dairying and fruit-growing, is canada's greatest industry. over 23,000,000 acres are under crop and about 20,000,000 under pasture. over 3,000,000 acres are under wheat cultivation. ontario exports more than twice as much cheese as the whole of the united states, and her cheese product is recognised as the finest in the world. canada exports to great britain alone $15,000,000 worth of cheese annually. in 1896, in ontario alone, 170 creameries turned out over 6,000,000 pounds of butter at an average net receipt of 18-1/4 cents a pound. by the cold-storage facilities provided by the government canadian butter can be sent even from far inland points to liverpool or london without the slightest deterioration. england buys $6,000,000 worth of canadian bacon and hams annually, and canadian beef is already famous on the london market. american corn for stock-feeding is admitted to canada free of duty and about $10,000,000 worth is imported annually. a great deal of eastern and southern canada is well adapted to fruit-raising. the niagara-st. clair peninsula of ontario is especially famous for its peaches and grapes. canada's trade with the united states canada has made a great effort in the direction of encouraging home manufactures, but her most progressive and most staple industries are those concerned in the conversion of the raw products of the country into articles of common merchandise. her steam horse-power in proportion to population is the largest in the world. the capital invested in factories as a whole amounts to over $400,000,000, with an annual output of over $500,000,000. her total annual importation is now over $130,000,000. more than half of this is from the united states. canada's total annual exportation is about $160,000,000. of this over one third goes to the united states. canada's total trade with the united states is about forty one per cent. of her total trade with all countries, and almost equal to her total trade with great britain. canada's total trade with the united states is exceeded only by that of great britain, germany, and france, and her import trade with the united states is exceeded only by that of great britain and germany. [illustration: trade centres of canada and trunk railway lines.] canadian cities montreal (250,000) is the commercial metropolis of canada. it is situated on an island in the st. lawrence river, and, though 1000 miles from the open ocean, the largest sea-going vessels reach its wharves with ease. it is the headquarters of canada's two great railways--the canadian pacific system, with its 8000 miles of road, and the grand trunk system, with its 5000 miles of road. through passenger-trains run from montreal to vancouver on the pacific coast, a distance of nearly 3000 miles. montreal is the centre also of the great inland navigation system of canada. toronto (200,000), the capital of the province of ontario, is the second city of canada. while toronto has a great local trade and many important manufactures, it is specially noted as an educational centre. quebec (80,000) is the oldest city of canada and one of the oldest upon the continent. halifax (50,000), the eastern terminus of the canadian railway system, has one of the finest harbours in the world. winnipeg (35,000) is destined to be the centre of the great inland trade of canada. xiii. the trade features of the united states the character of our export trade having reviewed the industrial and trading conditions of the other great commercial nations of the world, it should now remain for us to review these conditions in the united states. but the united states is so large a country, and its trading and industrial interests are so diversified and extensive, that it would be impossible for us in the limits of our space even barely to touch upon all these interests. so that with respect to the "trade features of the united states" we shall simply confine ourselves to one part of the subject--namely, the character, extent, and importance of our foreign trade. and we shall, further, have to restrict ourselves in the main to our exports. these will be found to be principally not manufactures, but the products of our great agricultural, mining, and forest industries. the total value of the manufactures of the united states amounts in round numbers to the immense sum of $10,000,000,000 annually, a sum considerably more than a third (it is thirty five per cent.) of the total value of the annual manufactures of the world. but only a very small portion of this vast output is exported. the greater portion of it is used to sustain the still vaster internal trade of our country, a trade which amounts to more than $15,500,000,000 annually, an amount not far short of being one third of the total internal trade of the world, and not far short of being twice the internal trade of great britain and ireland, the country whose internal trade comes next to ours. our exports, therefore, are not in the main manufactured goods, but breadstuffs, provisions, and raw materials, the production of our farms, our plantations, our forests, and our mines. but principally they are the products of our farms and our plantations, for with the exception of cotton we do not export much raw material. nearly all the raw material we produce (other than cotton) we use in our own manufactures. and even this is not enough, for in addition we have to import considerable quantities of raw material for our manufactures from other countries, the principal items being raw sugar, raw silk, raw wool, chemicals of various kinds including dye-stuffs, hides and skins, lumber, tin, nickel, and paper stock. our export trade in detail our total exportation for the twelve months ended june 30, 1898, amounted to the unprecedented sum of nearly $1,250,000,000 ($1,231,329,950).[4] this is an amount almost a quarter of a billion dollars greater than ever before, the only years when the export even approximated this amount being 1897 and 1892, when the exportation was slightly over a billion dollars in each case. of this exportation the sum of $855,000,000, or seventy one per cent. of the whole, was for the products of agriculture, the principal items being (1) "breadstuffs," including wheat and wheat flour, corn and cornmeal, oats and oatmeal, rye and rye flour, $335,000,000; (2) cotton, $231,000,000; (3) "provisions," including beef and tallow, bacon and hams, pork and lard, oleomargarine, and butter and cheese, $166,000,000; (4) animals, including cattle, horses, sheep, and hogs, $47,000,000; (5) raw tobacco, $23,000,000; (6) oil-cake, $12,500,000, and (7) fruits and nuts, $9,000,000. the exports of the products of our mines amounted to only 1.6 per cent. of the total export, or scarcely $20,000,000, the principal items being (1) coal and coke, $12,500,000; (2) crude petroleum, $4,000,000, and (3) copper ore. the exports of the products of the forest amounted to only three per cent. of the total export, or $38,000,000, the principal items being (1) sawed and hewn timber, logs, lumber, shingles, and staves, $28,500,000, and (2) naval stores, including resin, tar, turpentine, and pitch, $9,000,000. the exports of the products of our fisheries amounted to only $4,500,000, or less than one half of one per cent. of the total exports. the exports of the products of our manufactures, according to the official returns, amounted to $289,000,000, or twenty four per cent. of the total export. but this sum included many items which represent raw natural products converted merely into material for subsequent manufacture, as, for example, pigand bar-iron, planed boards, sole leather, ingotand bar-copper, cotton-seed oil, and pigand bar-zinc. the principal items in the true "manufactures" list are (1) machinery, including metal-working machinery, steam-engines and locomotives, electrical machinery, pumping machinery, sewing-machines, typewriting-machines and printing-presses, and railway rails, hardware, and nails, $65,000,000; (2) refined petroleum, $50,000,000; (3) manufactures of cotton, $17,000,000; (4) vegetable oils and essences, $12,000,000; (5) agricultural implements, $7,000,000; (6) cycles, $7,000,000; (7) paper and stationery, $5,500,000; (8) furniture and other manufactures of wood, $5,000,000; (9) tobacco and cigarettes, $5,000,000; (10) fertilisers, $4,500,000; (11) boots and shoes, harness, and rubber shoes, $3,500,000; (12) telegraph, telephone, and other instruments, $3,000,000; (13) bags, cordage, and twine, $2,500,000; (14) books and pamphlets, $2,500,000; (15) sugar, syrup, molasses, candy, and confectionery, $2,000,000; (16) spirits, including brandy and whisky, $2,000,000; and (17) clocks and watches, $2,000,000. footnote: [4] for the year ending june 30, 1899, the total exportation amounted to $1,204,123,134. our exports and those of great britain compared the significance of these figures descriptive of our export trade will be better understood from a few comparisons. our total exportation for the year 1897-8 was, as said before, in round numbers, $1,250,000,000. for the year previous it was over $1,000,000,000. the exportation of great britain for the year 1896 was $1,500,000,000. for the year 1897 it was almost the same amount. for the year 1895 it was $1,450,000,000. but whereas our exportation of breadstuffs, provisions, animals, fruit, etc., and of raw materials, such as cotton, lumber, ores, etc., amounts to probably 77 or 78 per cent. of our total exportation, while our exportation of manufactured goods amounts to not more than 22 or 23 per cent., the exportation of breadstuffs, provisions, raw material, etc., which great britain makes is not more than one sixth, or 17 per cent., of her total exportation, while her exportation of manufactured goods is five sixths, or 83 per cent., of her total exportation. for example, great britain's export of textiles alone amounts to over $500,000,000 a year (for 1896 $526,647,525), while our total export of textiles, including cottons, woollens, silks, and fibres, is not more than $19,000,000 a year. great britain's total export of hardware and machinery amounts to over $250,000,000 a year; our total export of these articles does not amount to more than a third of this sum. on the other hand, great britain's total export of raw materials of all sorts is not more than $100,000,000 a year, while ours of cotton alone is almost two and one-third times that sum. and while great britain exports no breadstuffs or provisions to speak of, our exportation of these articles (including animals) amounts to the enormous sum of $855,000,000 a year. our imports and those of great britain compared [illustration: export trade of the united states and great britain compared.] similar differences with respect to our import trade and that of great britain are observable. our imports do not amount to more than from $600,000,000 to $800,000,000 a year. for the year ended june 30, 1897, they were $765,000,000. for the year ended june 30, 1898, they were $616,000,000. the imports of great britain, on the other hand, amount to over $2,000,000,000 a year. for the year 1896 they were $2,210,000,000. for the year 1897 they were $2,225,000,000. but, while our imports, with the exception of coffee, sugar, tea, fruits, and fish, consist chiefly of manufactured articles, such as woollen goods, cotton goods, silk goods, and iron and steel goods, with only moderate amounts of raw material (for example, hides, skins, and furs, $41,000,000; raw silk, $32,000,000; raw wool, $17,000,000), great britain, besides importing coffee, sugar, tea, fruits, and fish, the same as we do, and manufactured goods to a far greater amount than we do (not less than $500,000,000 annually), imports likewise an enormous quantity of raw material for her manufactures, all duty free, and a still more enormous quantity of breadstuffs, provisions, etc., also all duty free. for example, for the year 1897 her imports of raw materials for her manufactures were not less than $750,-000,000, while her imports of duty-free food products were not less than $825,000,000. the difference between the two countries, therefore, so far as their foreign trades are concerned is simply this: the united states is an immense exporter of food-stuffs, and also of raw materials for foreign manufacture; but for the raw materials for her own manufacture she depends principally upon her own products. in comparison she is only a moderate exporter of manufactured goods. great britain, on the other hand, is an enormous importer and consumer of food-stuffs and also of raw materials for her manufactures. she, in fact, depends very largely upon other countries for her food products and her raw materials, and obtains them wherever she can, very largely from the united states. she is also an enormous exporter of manufactures. [illustration: the united states manufactures and internal trade compared with the manufactures and internal trade of all other countries.] our cotton production and cotton export the one article of export that is of greatest importance in our commerce is cotton. the production of cotton in the united states is enormous. it is not far short of 5,000,000,000 pounds per annum. this is probably four times the amount produced upon the whole globe elsewhere. our export amounts annually to about 4,000,000,000 pounds, with a total value of about $240,000,000. our greatest competitors in the world's cotton markets are egypt and india. the export of cotton from egypt amounts to $50,000,000 annually. the export of cotton from india amounts to $45,000,000 annually. at least one half of our export of cotton goes to great britain. our next greatest customers are (in order) germany, france, italy, spain, and russia. we send about $7,500,000 worth annually to japan, and $4,000,000 worth annually to canada. all our southeastern states produce cotton, but the states that produce it most plentifully are (in order) texas (about one third of the whole), georgia, mississippi, and alabama. the area under cultivation in the whole country is about 21,000,000 acres, which is about one sixth of the area devoted to corn, wheat, and oats, or one half the area devoted to hay. the areas of greatest cotton production are (1) the "yazoo bottom," a strip on the left bank of the mississippi extending from memphis to vicksburg, and (2) the upper part of the right bank of the tombigbee. the productivity of cotton is much higher in the united states than it is in india, averaging not far short of 200 pounds per acre, as against less than 100 pounds in india. in india, however, the cotton crop has been grown on the same soil for ages, whereas in the united states the practice is to substitute new soils for old ones as soon as crops begin to fail. on the other hand, the united states cotton crop is much less per acre than the crop in egypt. there the yield per acre is from 300 pounds to 500 pounds. the remedy for this defect of productivity in our cotton crop as compared with that of egypt is manuring. where the manuring is properly attended to our cotton crop is comparable with egypt's. but the cotton of egypt is of better quality than the great mass of the cotton crop of the united states (the "upland" cotton crop). on the other hand in the low, flat islands off the coast of georgia and south carolina a species of cotton grows ("sea-island" cotton) which is the finest in the world, its fibres being the longest, finest, and straightest, of all cotton fibres produced anywhere, and the most beautiful in appearance in the mass. of this "sea-island" cotton about three to four million dollars' worth is exported annually at a price averaging from two and one fourth to two and three fourth times the value per pound of the "upland" cotton. the great cotton ports of our country are (in order of amount of exportation) new orleans, galveston, savannah, new york, charleston, mobile, and wilmington. new orleans' export is about a third of the whole, and galveston's about a fifth. our production and export of breadstuffs the item in the official returns that figures largest for exports is that which is set down as breadstuffs. this term includes wheat, corn, oats, rye, and other grains, and the flours or meals made from these. for the year ending june 30, 1898, our total export of breadstuffs was $334,000,000. this is an enormous increase over the year before, when the amount was not quite $200,000,000.[5] a large part of this increase was due to the high prices for breadstuffs which prevailed in the european markets during the past autumn and winter, but a part of the increase was due to an increased acreage and to good crops. the main products that composed this vast exportation were: wheat, $146,000,000; wheat flour, $70,000,000; corn, $75,000,000; cornmeal, $2,000,000; oats and oatmeal, $22,500,000; rye and rye flour, $9,000,000, and barley, $5,500,000. the magnitude of our breadstuffs exportation can be judged from the magnitude and importance of our exports of wheat and flour as compared with those of other countries. our average wheat export is two and one half times that of russia, four and one third times that of argentina, five and one half times that of india, and almost twenty-five times that of canada, while it is also four and one half times that of all other countries in the world combined. our flour export ($70,000,000) is without a rival. the export from canada is now not much more than $1,500,000 a year, and the export from hungary not more than $2,500,000 a year, and these are the only countries with which we have to compete in the western european markets. still it must be remembered that hungarian flour, owing to the dryness of the climate in which it is made, is the best in the world, while the flour of canada made from manitoba hard wheat is alike unsurpassed. as a rule much more than one half of our total exports of breadstuffs goes to great britain. germany is our next best customer, but her imports of our breadstuffs are not more that a fifth to a tenth of those of great britain. france comes next, but her importation of our breadstuffs is still more uncertain, ranging from a half to a hundredth of that of great britain. our other principal customers for our breadstuffs are (1) the other states of europe, (2) canada, (3) the countries of south america, (4) the west indies, (5) hongkong, (6) the islands of the pacific, and (7) british africa. our exportation of breadstuffs to japan and china (direct)[6] is still inconsiderable. since the close of the war of the rebellion our exportation of wheat has increased thirtyfold and our exportation of flour fifteenfold. our chief wheat-growing states are minnesota and california, each with about 50,000,000 bushels a year; then kansas, north dakota, illinois, and south dakota, each with about 30,000,000 bushels a year; and then ohio, indiana, nebraska, pennsylvania, missouri, and michigan. the best wheat is grown in the deep black soil, rich in organic matter, of the red river valley of minnesota, and in the dry, sunny climate of california. the total yield for 1897 was 530,000,000 bushels, which was about 70,000,000 bushels more than recent averages. the estimate for this year (1898) is over 600,000,000 bushels, which was also the yield for 1891. the total area sown to wheat was for several years about 35,000,000 acres, but the average is now increased to about 40,000,000 acres. large as is the gross production of our wheat, however, the yield per acre is somewhat small, being only from 12 to 13 bushels as against 18 bushels in ontario, 20 in manitoba, 26-1/2 in new zealand, and 30 in great britain. in fact, the wheat yield per acre is lowest in the united states of all the great wheat-producing countries of the world, except australia (7 to 11-1/2), italy (10-1/2), germany (10-1/4), india (9-1/4), and russia (8). but far greater than our production of wheat is our production of corn. of corn we have nearly 85,000,000 acres under cultivation and a production of nearly 2,500,000,000 bushels. our export of corn, however, is proportionately not large, and figures only to about 210,000,000 bushels a year, with a value (including cornmeal) of about $76,000,000. as is well known, chicago is the great commercial centre of the continent for breadstuffs. new york is the great port of export for the atlantic seaboard, san francisco for the pacific seaboard. duluth is the great receiving point for the wheat of the red river valley and the northern mississippi. buffalo is the great point where the wheat brought down from chicago, duluth, etc., in barges, "whale-backs," and immense propellers, is trans-shipped to the small boats of the erie canal for carriage to new york. minneapolis is the great milling point of the continent, its mills being the largest and most capacious in the world. footnotes: [5] for the year ending june 30, 1899, the amount was $274,000,000. [6] a portion of the exportation of breadstuffs made to hongkong is no doubt intended for consumption in china and japan. our export of provisions and animals [illustration: principal articles of domestic exports of the united states. (for the year ended june 30, 1898.)] the next most important item in our list of exports is provisions. but, like "breadstuffs," "provisions" also is a composite term, including two main divisions, "meat products" and "dairy products." practically there are three main divisions, "beef products," "hog products," and "dairy products." we have in these great products of our country an export trade of $165,500,000 per annum, and if we add "animals," a similar item, we have $46,500,000 more, or a total of $212,000,000 per annum. our export of fresh beef is nearly 300,000,000 pounds a year. almost the whole of this goes to great britain. our export of canned beef runs from 40,000,000 to 60,000,000 pounds a year. about three fifths of this goes to great britain, the remainder going principally to germany and other parts of europe and to british africa. we have about 50,000,000 cattle upon our farms and ranches, and our production of beef is estimated to be the enormous amount of 5,400,000,000 pounds a year, which is between a third and a fourth of the total quantity produced throughout the world. of course the greater portion of this is retained for our own home consumption, for we eat more meat per inhabitant than any other people in the world except the english. in addition to our beef we export about 400,000 cattle annually, more than seven eighths of which are taken by great britain, our other principal customers being the west indies and canada. the principal export, however, among our "provisions" is our hog products. we export annually of these products 100,000,000 pounds of pork, 850,000,000 pounds of bacon and hams, and 700,000,000 pounds of lard, with a value greater than $110,000,000. as with our beef products, so with our hog products--by far the greatest share goes to great britain. great britain, however, does not import largely of our pork or of our lard. and though she purchases from us over four fifths of our total export of bacon and hams, she does not pay for them so much as she does for the bacon and hams of ireland, denmark, and canada. the reason for this is that as a rule our corn-fed bacon and hams are too fat--a fault that could be easily remedied. after great britain our next best customers for our hog products are germany (principally in lard), the netherlands, sweden, and the west indies (the latter principally in pork). we keep on our farms from 40,000,000 to 50,000,000 hogs, and our production reaches nearly to 4,600,000,000 pounds of pork, bacon, hams, lard, etc., per annum. a great drawback to our swine-raising industry is the terrible swine plague which so frequently devastates our swine herds. were this plague stamped out by thorough preventive measures our swine industry would soon become very much larger and more profitable. the third principal item in our provisions export trade is "dairy produce." our export of butter now amounts to 30,000,000 pounds a year. our cheese export, once much greater, is now about 50,000,000 pounds a year. as in our beef products and in our hog products so again in our dairy products great britain is our chief customer. but our butter export to great britain is only one twelfth of her total importation of butter, and our cheese export to great britain is only about one eighth of her total importation of cheese. our cheese has lost its hold on the english market because of its relative deterioration of quality, and its export is not more than a half or a third of what it once was. much of our butter also is not suited to the english taste. but both our cheese and our butter are now improving in quality. our great competitor in the cheese export trade is canada. canada's export of cheese to great britain is $15,000,000 annually, while ours is only a fifth of that amount. our great competitor in butter is denmark. denmark's export of butter to great britain is $32,000,000 while ours is not more than a fourteenth of that sum. our competitors in the markets of britain for cattle are canada and argentina, but their exports together, however, are less than a third of ours. our competitors in the british markets for the sale of meats are principally the australasian colonies and argentina, but their principal exportation so far is chilled mutton, which they send to britain to the amount of many million dollars annually (argentina alone $5,000,000 a year, new zealand alone $10,000,000 a year), while our exportation of mutton is practically nil. we do, however, export $1,000,000 worth of sheep a year, but in this item we are frequently far exceeded by canada. chicago is, of course, the great commercial centre of the continent for "provisions" and "live stock," and new york the great shipping port. of the entire export trade of the whole country new york does two fifths. baltimore comes next with about one ninth. then (in order) come philadelphia, boston, and new orleans. the chief centres of our great provision and live-stock trade, other than chicago, are cincinnati, kansas city, indianapolis, buffalo, and omaha. our foreign carrying trade one aspect of our foreign trade is not so well understood as it ought to be. our foreign commerce is carried on largely in foreign ships. the reason is that no vessel is allowed to be registered as belonging to a united states owner unless she is built in the united states, and it therefore seems as if our ship-builders could not compete (in price) in the building of steel and iron ships with those of great britain and germany. formerly, when wooden ships were used, our foreign trade was carried on in our own vessels, and our "clipper" sailing vessels beat the world. in 1859 seventy per cent. in value of our foreign trade was carried in american vessels. since that date the proportion has decreased steadily until in 1896-97 it was only eleven per cent., and for 1897-98 it was even less than this. during the five years 1881-85 it averaged barely twenty per cent. taking into consideration tonnage only the proportion at present varies from twenty five to thirty per cent., showing that the american vessels are used for carrying the cheaper sorts of goods. the aggregate tonnage burden of vessels belonging to the united states registered as engaged in the foreign trade 1896 was for 792,870 tons. for the same year the aggregate tonnage burden of vessels belonging to great britain engaged in the foreign trade was considerably more than ten times that amount. of our export trade to europe united states vessels carry only five and one half per cent., and of our export trade to africa only four and one half per cent. but of our export trade to asia and oceanica our own vessels carry twenty six and one half per cent., while of our export trade to other countries on the american continent our own vessels carry nearly forty per cent. but as our atlantic trade is seventy six per cent. of the whole, and as our trade elsewhere than on the atlantic is more than one third carried by sailing-vessels, it is evident how largely our steamship ocean carrying trade has been allowed to fall into the hands of foreigners. seven tenths of our total export trade, and nearly two thirds of our total foreign trade, both export and import, are carried in british vessels. the next greatest carriers of our foreign trade are, first, the germans, then ourselves, then the norwegians, then the dutch, then the french, then the belgians. examination papers note.--_the following questions are given for the purpose of indicating to the student the sort of knowledge he ought to be possessed of after he has made a careful study of the papers of the course. the student is recommended to write out carefully the answers to the questions asked. only such answers need be attempted as can be made from a careful study of the papers._ _part i_ 1. great britain. give as full an account as you can of the causes which have made london the great commercial centre of the world. 2. great britain. england is said to be "a beehive of mercantile and manufacturing industry." give reasons for this statement and also show how england has become such. 3. great britain. (_a_) describe the foreign trade of great britain. (_b_) describe the steps taken by liverpool, manchester, and glasgow to improve their natural facilities for external trade. 4. france. (_a_) describe the conditions which (1) conduce toward, and (2) militate against, france's being a great commercial nation. (_b_) give an account of the distinctive manufactures of france. 5. germany. (_a_) give an account of what germany has accomplished in technical education. (_b_) compare germany and france as commercial nations. (_c_) give a brief account of germany's foreign trade. 6. spain and italy. (_a_) why are spain, italy, and turkey sometimes called "the three decadent nations of europe"? (_b_) give some account of spain's foreign trade. (_c_) give an account of the conditions that militate against italy's prosperity as a trading nation. 7. russia. (_a_) describe the social condition of the russian people. (_b_) what are the "artels" of russia? (_c_) describe russia's export trade. 8. india. (_a_) describe the present condition of the manufactures of india. (_b_) give a brief account of india's trade--(1) external, (2) internal. 9. china. (_a_) give an account of china's size, population, and trade resources. (_b_) give an account of china's present foreign trade. (_c_) give an account of the trade possibilities of china, and show in what manner an increase of the foreign trade of china is most likely first to occur. 10. japan. (_a_) describe the transformation which in recent times has been witnessed in the japanese nation. (_b_) describe japan's manufactures. (_c_) show in what respects an increase in the foreign trade of japan is presently possible. _part ii_ 1. africa. (_a_) describe the "partition of africa." (_b_) describe more particularly great britain's possessions in africa. (_c_) describe south africa's mineral wealth. 2. australia. (_a_) describe australia's "peculiarities." (_b_) enumerate the political divisions of australia, and for each describe briefly (1) its climate, (2) its resources and trade. 3. south america. (_a_) describe the social and political condition of the various peoples of south america. (_b_) describe the agricultural resources and export trade of argentina. (_c_) describe (1) the resources, and (2) the export and import trade, of brazil. 4. canada. (_a_) describe canada's resources (1) in forest wealth, (2) in minerals, (3) in fisheries. (_b_) describe canada's agricultural trade. (_c_) describe canada's trade with the united states. 5. the united states. (_a_) describe the export trade of the united states. (_b_) compare our export trade with that of great britain. (_c_) compare our import trade with that of great britain. 6. the united states. (_a_) describe our cotton production and our cotton export trade. (_b_) describe briefly our export trade in "breadstuffs." (_c_) describe briefly our export trade in "provisions" and "animals." finance, trade, and transportation[8] i. national and state banks origin of banking institutions [illustration: the bank of england, showing the threadneedle street entrance.] the world has had its bankers and money-changers for thousands of years. babylonian tablets have been found which record banking transactions which took place in the reign of nebuchadnezzar. modern banking institutions, however, had their origin in the twelfth century. the first institution of this character in europe was the bank of venice, founded a. d. 1171. it was based upon a forced loan of the republic. funds deposited in it could not be withdrawn, but were transferable on the books at the pleasure of the owners. the bank of genoa was founded in 1407, and for many years was one of the principal banks of europe. it was the first to issue circulating notes; these were negotiable only by indorsement--that is to say, they were not made payable to bearer. this was a long step in advance of the earlier system of deposit transfers which was also employed by this bank. the bank of amsterdam, established in 1607, was the earliest considerable institution of the kind which looked to the promotion of commerce. the bank of hamburg, established in 1619, was a bank of deposit and circulation based upon fine silver bars. the deposits were confined to silver. the bank of england is more than 200 years old and is to-day acknowledged to be the greatest financial institution in the world. nearly all the paper money of england is issued by this bank. this currency is based partly upon securities and partly upon deposits of coin. there are three or four banks in the united states more than one hundred years old. in 1781 robert morris, then superintendent of finance, submitted to congress a plan for the establishment of the bank of north america at philadelphia. in 1784 the state of massachusetts incorporated the massachusetts bank. the bank of new york was chartered in 1791. footnote: [8] suggestions as to method of study 1. read the lessons as printed very carefully. the aim will be to give fundamental knowledge as to the organisation and conduct of modern business. 2. books will not be necessary. the student, however, who wishes to make a more thorough study of the national banking system will find excellent chapters on the subject in "carroll's principles and practice of finance" (new york: putnams) and "white's money and banking" (boston: ginn & co.). 3. take up the papers of the course paragraph by paragraph and ask yourself the reason why each is introduced. discuss with your friends the advantages or disadvantages of particular requirements. our national banking system the national banking system of the united states was established by an act of congress in 1863, revised in 1864, and amended by later legislation. the great advantage of the system, it is said, is the feature of uniformity, the fact that it brings the banking business of the whole united states under one authority and under the supervision of one set of administrative officers. the note-issuing department is subordinate in its public usefulness to the facilities afforded by banks and clearing-houses for the interchange of credits. the essential features of national banks are briefly set forth as follows: 1. there is a bureau of the treasury department having charge of all matters relating to national banks, the chief officer of which is the comptroller of the currency. 2. any number of persons, not less than five, may form an association for banking purposes, to continue not more than twenty years, but renewable for twenty years with the approval of the comptroller. 3. the powers of the bank are limited to the discounting of promissory notes, drafts, bills of exchange, and other evidences of debt; receiving deposits, dealing in exchange, coin, and bullion, loaning money on personal security, and issuing circulating notes. it cannot hold real estate except such as may be necessary for the transaction of its business, or such as may have been taken as security for debts previously contracted in good faith. 4. there can be no national banks anywhere of less capital than $50,000, and these small ones are restricted to places of not more than 6000 inhabitants. in cities of more than 6000 and less than 50,000 inhabitants there can be no bank of less than $100,000 capital, and in cities of 50,000 inhabitants or more none of less than $200,000. one half of the capital must be paid in before the bank can begin business and the remainder must be paid in monthly instalments of at least ten per cent. each. 5. shareholders are liable for the debts of the bank to an amount equal to the par value of their shares in addition to the amount invested therein. 6. each bank having a capital exceeding $150,000 must deposit in the treasury of the united states registered interest-bearing bonds to an amount not less than $50,000. those having a capital of $150,000 or less must deposit bonds equal to one fourth of their capital stock. each bank may issue circulating notes to the amount of ninety per cent. of the market value of the bonds deposited by it, but not exceeding ninety per cent. of the par value of the same, and not exceeding ninety per cent. of the paid-in capital of the bank; but no bank is compelled to issue circulating notes. no bank-notes shall be issued smaller than $5. the notes are receivable at par for all dues to the united states except duties on imports, and are payable for all debts owing by the united states within the united states except interest on the public debt and in redemption of the national currency. 7. every bank in certain designated cities, called reserve cities, must keep a reserve of lawful money equal to twenty five per cent. of its deposits. all other banks must keep a like reserve of fifteen per cent., but three fifths of the said fifteen per cent. may consist of balances on deposit in banks approved by the comptroller in the reserve cities. 8. each bank must keep on deposit in the treasury of the united states lawful money equal to five per cent. of its circulation as a fund for redeeming the same. this five per cent. may be counted as part of its lawful reserve. this does not relieve banks from the duty of redeeming their notes at their own counters on demand. 9. one tenth of the net profits must be carried to the surplus fund until it is equal to twenty per cent. of the capital. 10. a bank must not lend more than one tenth of its capital to one person, corporation or firm, directly or indirectly, nor lend money on the security of its own shares, nor be the purchaser or holder of its own shares unless taken as security for a debt previously contracted in good faith, and if so taken they must be sold within six months under penalty of being put in liquidation. 11. each bank must make to the comptroller not less than five reports each year, showing its condition at times to be designated by him, and he may call for special reports from any particular bank whenever he chooses to do so. 12. each bank must pay to the treasurer of the united states a tax equal to one per cent. per annum on the average amount of its notes in circulation. the shares are liable to taxation by the states in which they are situated at the same rate as other moneyed capital owned by the citizens of such states. 13. any gain arising from lost and destroyed notes inures to the benefit of the united states. 14. the comptroller has the absolute appointment of all receivers and fixes their compensation. all moneys realised from the assets are paid into the treasury to the credit of the comptroller, and all dividends are paid out by him. 15. over-certification of cheques is strictly prohibited, rendering officers or clerks liable to imprisonment. 16. national bank directors are by law individually liable for the full amount of losses resulting from violations of the national banking laws. state banks upon the establishment of the national banking system the greater number of the banks incorporated under the laws of the several states were organised as national banks. with others, however, the rights of issue did not outweigh some inconveniences of the national system, and as a result there is now an important class of banks, and loan and trust companies, organised under state legislation and carrying on a deposit and loan business. the regulations under which they work are necessarily diverse, and the amount of public supervision over them varies in different states. the state banks in existence when the national banking system was organised were obliged to retire their note circulation, owing to the fact that the government imposed a tax of ten per cent. on their circulation. the object of the tax was to secure the retirement of the state bank-notes to make room for the circulation of the national banks. the internal mechanism of state banks differs but slightly from that of national banks. ii. savings banks and trust companies savings banks nearly $2,000,000,000 is deposited in the savings banks of the united states. this large sum represents the savings of about 5,000,000 people. the primary idea of a savings bank and of the post-office and other forms of saving institutions in foreign countries is to encourage thrift among the masses of the people. the older savings banks, especially those in the eastern states, have no capital stock. that is to say, they are mutual in their form of organisation. their capital is the accumulated deposits of a large number of people. the depositors are the owners. when taxes and other expenses are paid and a proper reserve set aside, the remaining profits go in the form of interest to the depositors. many of the savings banks in the western states are capitalised as are other financial institutions, and on the pacific coast they have capital stock or its equivalent in the form of a reserve fund in which the majority of the depositors are not interested otherwise than so far as it affords security for their deposits. as these banks are the custodians of the surplus savings of large numbers of people the laws of the several states have hedged them about with many safeguards, not only for the protection of the depositors but of the institutions themselves. it is eminently right and proper that the state, through its bank commissioners or otherwise, should so far supervise the operations of savings banks as to see that they perform their part of their contract with depositors. safety, at best, is relative only; there is no absolute safety for the twenty-dollar piece a man has in his pocket, whether he is on the street, at his office, or by his own fireside. we are reminded that 'riches take to themselves wings' and that 'thieves break through and steal.' no savings bank can keep money on hand or deposit it or loan it with absolute safety. all is comparative. it is a peculiarity of money that each dollar requires watching; general supervision is insufficient; hence it is that the safety of moneyed institutions depends upon the capacity and honesty of those in control, and not upon adherence to arbitrary rules. no set of rules can be adopted that will bind dishonest men nor that will compensate for want of experience and ability of honest ones. there is really no conflict between commercial and savings banks. in fact, a large number of the commercial banks of a country allow interest upon average balances and standing deposits in the same manner as savings banks. primarily the savings bank creates wealth, while the commercial bank handles it; the savings banks are creative, while the commercial banks are administrative. the aim of the savings bank is to gather money and invest it safely and thus bring profit to the depositor; the aim of the commercial bank is to lend money at fixed charges and thus bring profit to the institution. the former opens its doors to savers, the latter to borrowers. one serves by receiving and keeping and the other by lending. the savings bank aims at making men savers as well as producers. it offers the aid of the strong, who can manage well, to the weak and inexperienced. if the 5,000,000 depositors of savings in the united states were to hide away their own savings nearly $2,000,000,000 would be withdrawn from circulation. the savings bank invests its money. its managers are as a rule intelligent men, competent to make safe investments in solid securities. the best savings banks are conservative and do not encourage speculation. the rules and regulations of savings banks differ largely. in some institutions deposits of a dime at a time are accepted; in others a dollar is the limit. deposits usually begin to draw interest on the first day of each quarter, but they are entitled to it only if they remain until the end of the half-year. thus money deposited on the 1st of january is entitled to six months' interest on the 1st of july, though it is not entitled to any interest if withdrawn in june. some few banks allow interest to begin on the 1st of each month. most savings banks do not permit money to be withdrawn short of thirty days' notice. students of this course who are interested in securing definite information upon this subject regarding any particular bank should apply to that bank for a set of its rules and regulations for the information of depositors. trust companies there has grown up in this country a class of financial institutions which take a sort of middle ground between the commercial bank and the savings bank, so far as their service to the public is concerned. these are what are known as trust companies. national banks are prohibited by law from making loans on real estate, and though state banks are not hedged in this way, as a matter of good banking they usually avoid loans of this character. the policy of commercial banks is to make a great many comparatively small loans on short-time paper, while that of the trust company is to make large loans on long-time securities. the deposits of trust companies consist largely of undisturbed sums such as might be set aside by administrators, executors, trustees, committees, societies, or from private estates. they are such as are not likely to fluctuate greatly in amount. from the very nature of their deposits trust companies find it convenient and profitable to make larger loans and at longer periods than do ordinary banks. trust companies not only receive moneys upon deposit subject to cheque and for savings, and loan money on commercial paper and other securities, as do commercial banks; but they also act as agents, trustees, executors, administrators, assignees, receivers for individual properties, and corporations. they frequently assist as promoters or reorganisers of corporations and in the sale of stocks, bonds, and securities. they act also as agents for the payment of obligations maturing at future dates, such as the premiums on insurance, interest on mortgages and bonds, etc. trust companies are organised under the laws of the state in which they exist and are usually subject to all the supervision required in the case of state banks. iii. corporations and stock companies[9] corporations stock companies are usually referred to as corporations, though all corporations are not stock companies. a corporation is a body consisting usually of several persons empowered by law to act as one individual. there are two principal classes--(1) public corporations and (2) private corporations. public corporations are not stock companies; private corporations usually are. public corporations are created for the public interest, such as cities, towns, universities, hospitals, etc.; private corporations, such as railways, banks, manufacturing companies, etc., are created usually for the profit of the members. corporate bodies whose members at discretion fill by appointment all vacancies occurring in their membership are sometimes called close corporations. power to be a corporation is a franchise in the united states the power to be a corporation is a franchise which can only exist through the legislature. there are two distinct methods in which corporations may be called into being: first, by a specific grant of the franchise to the members, and, second, by a general grant which becomes operative in favour of particular persons when they organise for the purpose of availing themselves of its provisions. when the specific grant is made it is called a charter. in the case of private corporations the charter must be accepted by the members, since corporate powers cannot be forced upon them against their will; but the charter is sufficiently accepted by their acting under it. when special charters are not granted individuals may voluntarily associate, and by complying with the provisions of certain state laws may take to themselves corporate powers. in some of the states private corporations are not suffered to be created otherwise than under general laws, and in others public corporations are created in the same way. footnote: [9] for a preliminary treatment of the subject of this lesson the student is referred to part i. of this book, entitled "general business information," especially lessons xii. and xv. a corporation must have a name a corporation must have a name by which it shall be known in law and in the transaction of its business. the name is given to it in its charter or articles of association and must be adhered to. the necessity for the use of the corporate name in the transaction of business follows from the fact that in corporate affairs the law knows the corporation as an individual and takes no notice of the constituent members. corporate interests in municipal corporations in the united states the members are the citizens; the number is indefinite; one ceases to be a member when he moves from the town or city, while every new resident becomes a member when by law he becomes entitled to the privileges of local citizenship. in corporations created for the emolument of their members interests are represented by shares, which may be transferred by their owners, and the assignee becomes entitled to the rights of membership when the transfer is recorded; and if the owner dies his personal representative becomes a member for the time being. in such corporations also shares may be sold in satisfaction of debts against their owners. advantages of corporations and joint-stock companies over partnerships the following are given as a few of the advantages which are claimed for corporations and joint-stock companies over partnerships: 1. union of capital without the active service of the investors. 2. better facilities for borrowing. it is a common thing for a partnership to be changed to a stock company for the express purpose of raising money by the issue of bonds or stock. 3. limited agency of directors. a partner may pledge and sell the partnership property, may buy goods on account of the partnership, may borrow money and contract debts in the name and on the account of the partnership. directors of a joint-stock company must act in accordance with the provisions of the by-laws of the company. 4. the continuous existence of a company. 5. new shareholders are admitted more easily than new partners. 6. a retiring partner is still liable for existing debts. a shareholder may retire absolutely by selling his stock and having it legally transferred. iv. borrowing and loaning money[10] the money market money, like other articles of commerce, has for hundreds of years had its fields for the production of the raw products, its manufacturing establishments, its markets and exchange centres, its sellers and buyers, its wholesale and retail dealers, and its brokers and commission merchants. out of this trade in actual coin has grown a trade in paper notes, which are really only promises to pay coin, and out of this latter trade has grown up during recent years a still further enormous trade in securities representing all kinds of property. very often these securities are based solely upon the credit of the names attached to them, so that our modern system of borrowing and loaning money is really a system of borrowing and loaning credit. when our government borrows $100,000,000, as it did a few years ago, it gives "its bond" that the money will be paid. when states, or cities, or railroads, or other corporations borrow money they issue bonds guaranteeing payment at a particular time. when an individual borrows money he gives his "bond" in the form of a promissory note. these bonds pass from hand to hand and have a fairly constant value in the money market. they really represent the money trade to a much larger extent than does actual coin, so that the borrowing or loaning of money really means, to a very large extent, simply the borrowing or loaning of credit. if we borrow a $10 gold piece we borrow money; if we borrow a $10 bill or an indorser's name for the back of our note we simply borrow credit--in the one instance the credit of the united states and in the other the credit of the man who indorses our paper. footnote: [10] the student is also referred to part i. ("general business information"), lesson ix. borrowing from banks it is the business of a bank to loan money to responsible persons within reasonable limits. the regular customer of the bank is entitled to and will receive the first consideration if the demand is larger than the bank can safely meet. a business man should not hesitate, when occasion requires, to offer his bank any paper he may want discounted, if in his opinion it is good, nor should he be offended if his banker refuses to take it even without giving reasons. a portion of the loans of many banks consists of investments in solid bonds, but the bulk of the loans of banks is made on commercial paper. time and demand loans are made upon collaterals of many descriptions. the larger banks loan on an average from $50,000 to $100,000 a day. banks _discount_ paper for their depositors--and simply term the operation discounting; but when they go outside of their line of depositors in making investments in time paper they call it _buying_ paper. they generally buy from private bankers and note brokers. national banks are prohibited from loaning over ten per cent. of their capital to any one individual or corporation except upon paper representing actually existing merchandise. what are collaterals? if a business man borrow $1000 from a bank on his note and give ten shares of stock to the bank, to be held by it simply as security, the stock thus given would be termed collateral. these collaterals are not the bank's property and the bank is responsible for their safe keeping. if coupons mature while bonds are being held as collateral, the owners are usually allowed to collect the amount for which they sell. sometimes one note is given as collateral security for another which is discounted. accommodation paper notes and acceptances that are made in settlement of genuine business transactions come under the head of regular, legitimate business paper. an accommodation note or acceptance is one which is signed or indorsed or accepted simply as an accommodation and not in settlement of an account or in payment of an indebtedness. with banks accommodation paper has a deservedly hard reputation. however, there are all grades and shades of accommodation paper, though it represents no actual business transaction between the parties to it and rests upon no other foundation than that of mutual agreement. no contract is good without a consideration, but this is only true between the original parties to a note. the third party, or innocent receiver or holder of a note, has a good title and can recover its value even though it was originally given without a valuable consideration. an innocent holder of a note which had been originally lost or stolen has a good title to it if he received it for value, the law justly protecting such a holder against the fault or carelessness of others. note brokers merchants sell a great many of their notes in the open market--that is, to note brokers. the banks buy these notes from the note brokers. the assistance of the broker who handles commercial paper is a necessary and valuable aid to the purchasing bank. fully three fourths of all the paper purchased by banks in large cities is purchased upon the simple recommendation of the note brokers. as a rule these brokers simply transfer the paper without guaranteeing by indorsement its payment. notes bought by banks from note brokers without their indorsement are held to be guaranteed by them to be all right in all points except that which covers the question of whether they will be paid or not. the bank uses its best judgment in taking the risk. if the note dealer in selling notes to a bank makes what he believes to be fair and honest representations regarding any particular paper--statements of such a straightforward type that upon them no charge of false pretenses can be made to rest--he simply guarantees the note genuine as to names, date, amount, etc., and that in selling it he conveys a good title to the paper. as business men, however, they are very cautious and are exceedingly anxious that the paper they sell shall be paid, and as a rule they make good any losses which grow out of apparent misrepresentations on their part. bankers' rates for loans in loaning money on demand, when it is strictly understood between bank and borrower that the money so advanced is positively minute money--money returnable at any minute when the bank calls for it--banks usually charge low rates of interest. when interest rates are high bankers prefer to deal in long-time paper. this general rule is reversed when the situation is reversed. bankers aim also to scatter and locate their maturities so that as the seasons roll around they will not have very large amounts maturing at one time and very small amounts at another. they plan also to be "in funds" at those seasons when there is always a large and profitable demand for money. for instance, in the centres of the cotton-manufacturing interest the banks count on a large demand for money between october and january, when the bulk of the purchases to supply the mills are made. again, among those who operate and deal in wool there is an active demand for money in the wool-clip in the spring months. the wheat and corn crops are autumn consumers of money. midwinter and midsummer in the north are usually periods of comparative stagnation in the money market. all these things affect rates, and the successful banker is he who from observation and large experience shows the most skill in timing his money supply. v. collaterals and securities two distinct classes of securities there are two distinct classes of mortgage securities--one class based upon the actual value and the other upon the earning value of the property. when a man lends money upon a dwelling-house he bases his estimate of security upon (1) the cost of the property, (2) its location, (3) the average value of adjoining properties, and (4) the general character of the locality; that is to say, the value of the property is the basis of the security. on the other hand, the lender of money upon railway mortgages, for instance (that is, the buyer of securities known as railway mortgages), considers the general earnings of the road rather than the cost of building and equipping the road as the correct basis upon which to estimate the value of the security. these two classes of securities differ in other particulars. the value of the mortgage upon ordinary real estate is constant and the security itself is not so likely to change ownership, while the value of the railway mortgage may vary with the success or failure of the road, and the security itself is in the market constantly as a speculative property. the whole property of a railroad company, considered simply as real estate and equipment, is usually worth but a small fraction of the amount for which it is mortgaged. the creditors, as a rule, depend for the security of their money upon the business of the company. we have already learned that collaterals are mortgages, stocks, bonds, etc., placed temporarily in the hands of lenders as additional security for money borrowed. the student will note, further, that the borrowing value of such securities depends very largely upon the character of the property represented. mortgages as securities a mortgage is a conveyance of property for the purpose of securing debt, with the condition that if the debt is paid the conveyance is to become void. a mortgage in form is really a deed of the land, with a special clause stating that the grant is not absolute but only for the security of the debt. it is usual for the debtor at the time of executing the mortgage to execute also a bond or promissory note in favour of the creditor for the amount of the debt. this is called a mortgage note. mortgages are frequently given in cases where there is a debt existing to secure or indemnify the mortgagee against some liability which he may possibly incur on behalf or for the benefit of the mortgagor. for instance, when a man has indorsed another's note for the latter's accommodation or gone on his bond as surety the latter may execute to the former a mortgage of indemnity. the power of a corporation to mortgage its property is usually regulated by its character or by the general law under which it is organised. all mortgages must be recorded in the office of the register of deeds for the county in which the property is located. the object of recording is to give notice of the existence of the mortgage to any one who might wish to purchase the land or to take a mortgage upon it. there may be several mortgages upon the same property. the first mortgagee is entitled to be paid in full first, then the second, and so on. the mortgagee may use his mortgage as security for loans or he may assign it as he pleases. when the requirements of a mortgage are not met the holder has under certain conditions the right to foreclose--that is, to advertise the property for sale and, within a time fixed by law, to sell it to satisfy the mortgage. it is usual for the mortgagor to insure the property for the benefit of the mortgagee. although the terms of corporation mortgages are similar to those on real estate such as is represented by dwelling-houses, the commercial conditions make it inconvenient or impossible to foreclose and sell such properties. to stop all business of a railway or to shut down the work of a manufacturing concern would not only result in injury to the public but would reduce largely the earning value of the property. to overcome this difficulty where an active concern is financially embarrassed, the court appoints a receiver, who is responsible for the proper conduct of the business until a satisfactory reorganisation or sale is accomplished. mortgages upon improved property, if properly graduated in amount, should be safe and profitable investments. the buyer, however, must exercise great care and good judgment. should there be collusion between the loaning agent and the land-owner, the money advanced may be largely in excess of the actual property value. villages with less than a dozen houses are often the sites of investment companies doing business under pretentious names and offering mortgage investments at interest rates which by the local conditions are impossible. one of the devices of these enterprising companies is to offer their own guarantees as to both principal and interest of all mortgages negotiated by them. the investor should be sure of two things: (1) the safety of the principal, and (2) regularity in the payment of the interest. there is great danger of default from causes not anticipated by the mortgagor and over which he has no control. stocks as securities to make a profitable investment in stocks the buyer must anticipate the future. a mill that may be working day and night this year may be obliged to shut down entirely next year. a business which is open to public competition must take its chances on its future success. the greater the earnings, the more certain the competition. many corporations owning monopolies by virtue of patent rights have made large fortunes, but there is always the possibility of new discovery. electricity has succeeded gas; the telephone is competing with the telegraph; the trolley is cutting into the profits of railways. a good thing in stocks to-day does not necessarily mean a good thing next year. railroad stocks are of such varied character that it is impossible here to make more than general statements. many of our railroad stocks bring prices far above par and pay liberal interest on investments. some of them are so profitable that they are really not on the market and cannot easily be bought. others represent roads loaded down with mortgages and other obligations so heavy as to make the stock really a liability rather than a resource to its owner. the stock quotations represent in a general way the comparative value of these securities. of recent stock electric-railway stock is the most popular and in many instances the most profitable. the introduction of electric power has reduced the working expense one half and in most instances has doubled the traffic without any reduction in fares. the buyer should make sure that the road is in a busy community able to sustain it, that its franchise will protect it from dangerous competition, and that the securities have been legally issued. substitution securities there have recently been formed several large companies whose business it is to issue bonds on the security of other bonds. the idea is similar to that of real-estate title insurance. such companies are supposed to have superior facilities for investigating securities. they purchase those which they consider good and at the best prices possible. these they deposit with some trust company or banking institution. with these bonds which they buy as their original property they issue new bonds of their own, which they sell to the public and which they guarantee. the differences in prices and in interest make up their profits. loans and investments with the growth of wealth we find increasing numbers of persons who want to invest their means in good securities. to do this successfully and safely is a very difficult question. it is even more difficult to keep money profitably employed than to make it. changes and innovations are of continual occurrence. not only are new securities constantly coming upon the market, but new subjects as a basis of their production are industriously sought after. every newly discovered force or process in mechanics means the appearance of another detachment of paper securities. the war of the rebellion popularised the _coupon bond_, in consequence of its adoption by the government, and made it the favourite form of investment paper. railroads and other corporations soon availed themselves of the confidence which that species of paper inspired, and states, cities, and counties were soon flooding the country with obligations carrying long coupon attachments. many persons have purchased and paid good prices for mortgage coupon bonds, giving them no control over their security, who would have rejected share certificates standing for an equal interest in the property pledged and giving them the right to participate in its management, with the possibility of a greater return for their money. many of the states through careless legislation have permitted corporations to decide for themselves the amounts of obligations they might put out, and the privilege has been very much abused. we now have stocks and bonds upon the market representing nearly all conceivable kinds of property--telegraph and telephone companies, mining companies, cattle ranches, grain farms, water-works, canals, bridges, oiland gas-wells, electric lighting, trolley companies, factories and mills, patent rights, steamboat lines, apartment-houses, etc. not only are properties of many kinds used to issue bonds upon, but many kinds of bonds are often issued upon the same properties. one issue of bonds is sometimes made the basis of other issues. some one has said that there never was a time in the history of the world when it was so easy to invest money--and to lose it. of the securities that are offered with first-class recommendations it is probable that about one third are actually good, one third have some value, and one third are practically worthless. in making investments the first and main thing to be studied is safety. never buy a security of any kind without having read it. do not buy what are commonly known as _cheap securities_. do not rely solely upon the advice of a broker; he may have personal interest to serve. by far the greater number of losses to investors have been in securities purchased exclusively on the recommendation of interested commission men. it is a mistake to give preference to _listed_ securities--that is, those reported on the stock-exchange lists. stocks are too often listed simply for speculative purposes, and the price represents not so much the value of the property as the pitch of the speculation at the time. securities in the long run must stand upon their merits. as a rule the best time for an experienced investor to buy is when others are unloading. vi. cheques, drafts, and bills of exchange[11] bank cheques [illustration: showing cheque raised from $7.50 to $70.50.] a cheque is an order for money, drawn by one who has funds in the bank, payable on demand. banks provide blank cheques for their customers and it is a very simple matter to fill them out properly. in writing in the amount begin at the extreme left of the line. the illustrations given here show a poorly-written cheque and a copy of the same cheque after it has been "raised." the original cheque was for $7.50 and shows very careless arrangement. it was a very easy matter for the fraudulent receiver to change the "seven" to "seventy" and to add a cipher to the amount in figures. the running line was written in on the raised cheque to deceive the bank. in this case mr. carter and not the bank must suffer the loss. mr. carter cannot hold the bank responsible for his carelessness. drawers of cheques should exercise the greatest care in writing in the amount to prevent changes or additions. draw a running line, thus: ~~~_nine_~~~ before and after the amount written in words. if the words are commenced close to the left margin the running line will be necessary only at the right. the signature should be in your usual style familiar to the paying teller. the plain, freely written signature is the most difficult to forge. usually cheques are drawn "to order." the words "pay to the order of john brown" mean that the money is to be paid to john brown or to any person he "orders" it paid to. by indorsing the cheque in blank (see indorsements) he makes it payable to bearer. if a cheque is drawn "pay to bearer" any person--that is, the bearer--can collect it. the paying teller may ask the person cashing the cheque to write his name on the back, simply to have it for reference. safety devices to prevent the fraudulent alteration of cheques are of almost endless variety, but there has not been a preventive against forgery and alterations yet invented, which has not been successfully overcome by swindlers. a machine for punching out the figures is in common use, but the swindler has successfully filled in the holes with paper-pulp and punched other figures to suit his purposes. the safest cheques are those carefully written upon what is known as safety paper. footnote: [11] a part of the matter of this lesson has already appeared in part i. of this book ("general business information"), but it is here repeated to preserve the connection. identification when cheques are paid the banks of this country make it a rule not to cash a cheque that is drawn payable to order unless the person presenting the cheque is known at the bank--or unless he satisfies the paying teller that he is really the person to whom the money is to be paid. it must be remembered, however, that a cheque drawn to order and then indorsed in blank by the payee is really payable to bearer, and if the paying teller is satisfied that the payee's signature is genuine he probably will not hesitate to cash the cheque. in england all cheques apparently properly indorsed are paid without identification. in drawing a cheque in favour of a person not likely to be well known in banking circles, write his address or his business after his name on the face of the cheque. for instance, if you should send a cheque to john smith, boston, it may possibly fall into the hands of the wrong john smith; but if you write the cheque in favour of "john smith, 849 tremont street, boston," it is more than likely that the right person will collect it. if you wish to get a cheque cashed where you are unknown, and it is not convenient for a friend who has an account at the bank to go with you for the purpose of identification, ask him to place his signature on the back of your cheque and it is likely you will not have trouble in getting it cashed. by placing his signature on the back of the cheque he guarantees the bank against loss. a bank is responsible for the signatures of its depositors, but it cannot be supposed to know the signatures of indorsers. the reliable identifier is in reality the person who is responsible. cheques for special purposes if you wish to draw money from your own account the most approved form of cheque is written "pay to the order of _cash_." this differs from a cheque drawn to "_bearer_." the paying teller expects to see you yourself or some one well known to him as your representative when you write "_cash_." if you write "pay to the order of (your own name)" you will be required to indorse your own cheque before you can get it cashed. if you wish to draw a cheque to pay a note write "pay to the order of _bills payable_." if you wish to write a cheque to draw money for wages write "pay to the order of _pay-roll_." if you wish to write a cheque to pay for a draft which you are buying write "pay to the order of _n. y. draft and exchange_," or whatever the circumstances may call for. cheque indorsements in indorsing a cheque remember that the left end of the face is the top when you turn it over. write your name as you are accustomed to write it. if you are depositing the cheque, a blank indorsement--that is, an indorsement with simply your name--will answer; or you can write or stamp "pay to the order of (the bank in which you deposit)" and follow with your signature. either indorsement makes the cheque the absolute property of the bank. if you wish to transfer the cheque by indorsement to some particular person write "pay to the order of (naming the person)" and follow with your own signature; or you may simply write your name on the back. the latter form would be considered unwise if you were sending the cheque through the mail, for the reason that a blank indorsement makes the cheque payable to bearer. an authorised stamped indorsement is as good as a written one. whether such indorsements are accepted or not depends upon the regulations of the clearing-house in the particular city in which they are offered for deposit. the numbering of cheques [illustration: a certified cheque.] cheques should be numbered, so that each can be accounted for. the numbers are for your convenience and not for the convenience of the bank. it is important that your cheque-book be correctly kept, so that you can tell at any time how much money you have in the bank. at the end of each month your small bank-book should be left at the bank, so that the bookkeeper may balance it. it may happen that your bank-book will show a larger balance than your cheque-book. you will understand by this, if both have been correctly kept, that there are cheques outstanding which have not yet been presented at your bank for payment. you can find out which these are by checking over the paid cheques that have been returned to you with your bank-book. the unpaid cheques may be presented at any time, so that your actual balance is that shown by your cheque-book. cheques should be presented for payment as soon after date as possible. certified cheques [illustration: a bank draft.] if you wish to use your cheque to pay a note due at some other bank than your own, or in buying real estate or stocks or bonds you may find it necessary to get your cheque certified. this is done by an officer of the bank, who writes or stamps across the face of the cheque the words "certified" or "good when properly indorsed" and signs his name. (see illustration, p. 244.) the amount will immediately be deducted from your account, and the bank by guaranteeing your cheque becomes responsible for its payment. if you should get a cheque certified and then not use it deposit it in your bank, otherwise your account will be short the amount for which it is drawn. bank drafts [illustration: a bill of exchange.] nearly all banks keep money on deposit in other banks in large commercial centres--for instance, in new york or chicago. they call these banks their new york or chicago correspondents. a bank draft is simply the bank's cheque drawing upon its deposit with some other bank. (see illustration, p. 245.) banks sell these cheques to their customers, and merchants make large use of them in making remittances from one part of the country to another. these drafts or cashiers' cheques, as they are sometimes called, pass as cash anywhere within a reasonable distance of the money centre upon which they are drawn. bills of exchange a draft on a foreign bank is commonly called a bill of exchange. bills of exchange are usually drawn in duplicate and sometimes in triplicate. (see illustration, p. 246.) only one bill is collected, the others simply serving in the meantime as receipts. these bills are used to pay accounts in foreign countries, just as drafts on new york or chicago are used to pay indebtedness at home. vii. the clearing-house system[12] the clearing-house system a modern institution the clearing-house is a comparatively modern institution, the edinburgh bankers claiming the credit of establishing the first one. the earliest clearing-house of whose transactions we have any record is that of london, founded about 1775. for fully seventy-five years the london clearing-house and that of edinburgh were the only organisations of the kind known to exist. the monetary systems of most european countries centring around one great national bank located at the capital of each, found in this a means of effecting mercantile settlements. the new york clearing-house was established in 1853, from which date the american clearing-house system has grown to enormous proportions. no country in the world has so large a need of clearing-houses, for in no country is the bank cheque so generally used in the payment of ordinary accounts. transfer of credits in clearing-houses the purpose of the clearing-house is largely to facilitate the transfer of credits. this is explained by the following illustration: suppose that brown and smith keep their money on deposit in bank a and that brown gives smith his cheque for $100 and smith deposits it in the bank to his (smith's) credit. the officers of the bank will subtract $100 from brown's account and add the same amount to smith's account. no actual money need be touched. it is simply a matter of arithmetic and bookkeeping. credit has been transferred from brown to smith. if all the people of a city kept their money in one central bank there would be no need of a clearing-house. the bookkeepers of the bank would be kept busy transferring credits from one customer to another on the books of the bank. but if brown keeps his money in bank a and smith keeps his money in bank b it is necessary that bank a and bank b come together somewhere to conveniently make the credit transfer, and this is practically what they do in the clearing-house. then, again, if bank a should be located in san francisco and bank b in boston, the difficulty of transfer of credit is greatly increased. through the agency of clearing-houses located in money centres and of co-operation between banks at distant points, the transfer of credits between business men located anywhere in the united states, or for that matter in the world, has become a comparatively simple matter. if it were not for the agency of this system it would be utterly impossible for a great city to do the business of a single day. all the actual money in all the banks and stores and safes and pockets of new york city to-day would fall far short if used to pay to-day's transactions. it is estimated that the cash transactions of a single day are fifty times greater than the actual cash changing hands in one day. so that the great bulk of the business of the country, both cash and credit, is done on a system of credit transfers made possible wholly through the agency of our banking system. footnote: [12] see also lesson viii. of part i. of this book ("general business information"). organisation of clearing-houses each large city has its clearing-house system. to establish a clearing-house a number of banks associate themselves together, under certain regulations, for the purpose of exchanging daily at one time and place the cheques and other commercial paper which they hold against each other. the usual officers are a president, a secretary, a treasurer, and manager, and a clearing-house committee. the cheques, etc., which the banks take to the clearing-house are called the clearing-house exchanges, and the total amount of paper exchanged is called the day's clearings. those banks which bring a less amount than they take away are obliged to make the difference good in cash or its equivalent within a fixed time upon the same day. suppose, for illustration, that a clearing-house association consists of five banks--a, b, c, d, and e--and that bank a took to the clearing-house cheques against b, c, d, and e amounting to $20,000, and that b, c, d, and e took to the clearing-house cheques against a amounting to $21,000. then a is on this particular day a debtor bank, and owes the clearing-house, or the other banks through the clearing-house, $1000. the payment of the balances by the debtor banks and the receipt of the balances by the creditor banks complete each day's transactions. as the total amount brought to the clearing-house is always the same as the amount taken away, so the balances due from the debtor banks must be exactly equal to the amounts due the creditor banks. the clearings in new york city in one day amount to from $100,000,000 to $200,000,000, and the actual cash handled, if any, need only be for the actual debit balances. usually once a week (in some cities oftener) the banks of a city make to their clearing-house a report, based on daily balances, of their condition. the clearing-house establishes a fellowship among banks that has already proved in times of money panics of the greatest service to themselves and the community. payment of balances in clearing-houses clearing-house certificates are made use of in many cities for the payment of balances by debtor banks. these are issued against gold deposited with one of the associated banks. they are numbered, registered, and countersigned by the proper officer, and are used only in settlements between the banks. various methods of making settlements are in use. in some of the cities the balances are paid by drafts on new york or other money centres. the debtor bank sells some creditor bank new york exchange, and receives in return a cheque or order on the clearing-house, which when presented makes the debits and credits balance. it is estimated that the actual cash employed in new york clearings is less than one half of one per cent. of the balances. how distant banks are connected by the clearing-house system [illustration: illustrating cheque collections.] to illustrate the connection between banks at distant points let us suppose that b of haverhill, mass., who keeps his money on deposit in the first national bank of that city, sends a cheque to s of waconia, wis., in payment of a bill. s deposits the cheque in the farmers' bank of waconia and receives immediate credit for it in his bank-book, just the same as though the cheque were drawn upon the same or a near-by bank. the farmers' bank deposits the cheque, with other cheques, in, say, the first national bank of minneapolis, or it may send the cheque to its correspondent in new york--say the ninth national--asking to be credited with the amount. for sake of illustration, suppose that the cheque is deposited with the first national of minneapolis. now, this bank has a correspondent in chicago--the commercial national--and a correspondent in new york--the national bank of the republic. if sent to the commercial national, this bank has a correspondent in boston--the eliot bank, where the cheque would be sent. now, the first national of haverhill has a correspondent in boston--the national revere bank. the eliot bank would likely take this cheque to the boston clearing-house as a charge against the revere bank. the revere bank would deduct the amount from the first national of haverhill's deposit and send the paid cheque to the haverhill bank, where at the close of the month it would be handed to b, showing on the back the indorsement of s, and stamping representing all the banks through whose hands it passed. if the farmers' bank of waconia had sent direct to its new york correspondent, the ninth national, this bank would have sent to its boston correspondent, the north national, and the cheque would have been charged up through the clearing-house against the revere bank. if the first national of minneapolis had sent direct to its new york correspondent, the national bank of the republic, this bank would have sent to its boston correspondent, the shawmut national, etc. as a rule, banks collect by whatever route seems most convenient or advantageous. it is estimated that millions of dollars are lost to the banks each year on account of the time consumed by cheques en route. viii. commercial credits and mercantile agencies how the world's trade is largely transacted upon credit it is estimated that about ninety per cent. of the world's trade is transacted upon credit. and in no country of the world are commercial credits so freely granted as in the united states. this is a land of seemingly unlimited faith in humanity, and yet a land in which hazardous speculation, extravagance, and bankruptcy have often prevailed. statistics show that about ninety-five per cent. of our merchants "fail to succeed," and yet no other country can boast of such wealth, industrial energy, and generous confidence in business integrity. while credit is not money, in that it cannot settle a debt, it must be considered a very powerful agent in the creation of capital. credit is another name for trust. the business world bases its confidence or trust in men upon their character and resources. and the extent of this trust becomes the only limitation of the business man's purchasing power. he who can show conclusively the ability and disposition to fulfil obligations, has it within his power to command the capital or merchandise of others. credit is one of the fruits of a higher civilisation and a settled condition of a country's business. it bespeaks a quality of government, too, that is not to be depreciated. the nations that are most successfully and equitably governed and show the most stable conditions of currency also show us the most extensive and efficient credit systems. it is abundantly true that these same nations have on many occasions passed through periods of great distress from failures widespread and panics severe, but it must also be borne in mind that these very bankruptcies are more often the abuse of prosperity than the product of adversity. over-confidence in men and things has resulted in speculation and precipitated bankruptcy. and if it be urged that to the undue expansion of credit is traceable the greater number of our financial disasters, it may be said with still greater force that all our impetus to industrial achievement has been and still is dependent upon the generous exercise of credit. the construction of our railroads and canals, the operation of our mines, the improvement of our great farm areas, the building of our towns and cities, and the development of our extensive manufacturing interests are all the result of the trust reposed in men and the industrial interests they represent. the importance of a high standard of credit to business men reticence on the part of business men respecting their financial position may seriously impair their credit. it is universally regarded by the intelligent business man to be good policy to make known his condition. a refusal to do so throws a suspicion and doubt upon his financial ability, and at some future time when confidence in his integrity may be essential to the very life of his business, he may find the necessary help unobtainable. an applicant for credit should be willing to prove himself worthy of it. but the keen competition among merchants eager for sales often enables the buyer to obtain credit without the necessity of giving very much evidence as to his commercial standing. since some risks must be taken merchants frequently conclude to accept an account because of its possible acceptance by some competitor. if business is to be had risks must be taken, is the theory. when former customers apply for credit the merchant is guided by the record made in previous dealings. a business man's ledger is a very valuable history of credits. it is his compass in a sea of doubt. if upon the inspection of an old account it be discovered that in former years the customer paid cash and discounted his bills, and that later his method of payment was by promissory notes, and that on several occasions he asked for special favours, such as dating bills ahead or the privilege of renewal of notes, one is able to read a certain unmistakable sign of degeneracy in the customer's credit. new orders from such a customer will bear scrutiny; and a closer attention to the present condition of the account may save the firm from some bad debts. while it is possible to-day to determine the average losses from bad debts in the various lines of business, individual risks cannot be accepted on that basis. each requires special study. if an applying customer paints his financial condition in roseate colours, let him be willing to reduce his statement to writing, and when his signature is affixed his statement is much more reliable, because he knows of the impending liability of fraud if he has misrepresented. men averse to transforming an oral statement to writing have discredited themselves immediately. men who mean to be honest may be optimistic in picturing prospects and be inclined to set an unreasonable value upon their property and extent of business. it may be easier to tell the absolute truth about one's liabilities, because they are such persistently real things; but assets have elastic qualities in many men's minds and seem capable of any extension in an emergency. buyers who impress themselves most favourably upon the business house are frank in their statements. the explicit, candid man of few words will merit consideration. the cringing or pleading kind predisposes one unfavourably. stephen girard said of one who in tears asked for a loan: "the man who cries when he comes to borrow will cry when he comes to pay." to determine the right of a buyer to credit and the safe limit of credit to be extended to him is the seller's serious problem. it is customary to request references in order to discover how other firms regard the applicant's credit. but these references may be cautious of reply. a selfish desire to retain the customer for themselves, or the higher motive of a desire to be true to the interests of both the inquirer and the customer may produce dubious or very incomplete reports. if a bank be among the references one does not place too much stress upon a very favourable reply from it, because a merchant usually learns the lesson of expediency in making a friend of his banker. and, moreover, one endeavours to reveal only the best side of his business affairs to the bank. favourable replies from several firms showing a uniform line of credit go a great way toward reaching a safe conclusion. but in these days of vast and multifarious interests there has developed, as a result of this desire for adequate knowledge respecting men's credit, an agency for the exclusive purpose of arriving at definite and reliable evidence upon financial matters; and after years of experience men have learned to depend upon these mercantile agencies as the most valuable and trustworthy assistants. mercantile agencies mercantile agencies had their origin in the system adopted by several prominent firms of keeping on record all the information obtainable relating to their customers. in 1841 "the mercantile agency of new york city" began its history, and was the forerunner of the present great agencies whose record books of credits and ratings include the names of all the business houses and corporations in this country and canada. the pioneer institution of this character in the united states was the one bearing at present the name of "r. g. dun & co.," an outgrowth of "the mercantile agency of new york city." since 1860 it has borne the name of mr. dun, who was formerly a partner with mr. douglass when the agency was known as "b. douglass & co." another popular and influential concern is the one known as "the bradstreet company," familiarly spoken of as "bradstreet's." besides these two leaders there are many others, whose reports on credits are limited to particular lines of trade. the larger agencies soon found it necessary to establish branches in all the business sections of the country. a particular field of investigation is allotted to each branch, and an interchange of information is in constant progress. [illustration: a mercantile agency inquiry form.] to be a recipient of the valuable information afforded by these agencies business men, by paying an annual fee, are enrolled as subscribers and furnished with books of ratings, as they are called. besides this book special type-written reports with elaborate details respecting a firm's credit are sent upon the request of the subscriber. the volume of information recorded in these agencies concerning any one's credit is obtained through the effort of officials of the agencies known as reporters. these men of experience, integrity, and discernment are seekers after truths. usually each reporter has a distinct line of trade assigned him for research and investigation. this brings him into intimate acquaintanceship with every trader in his particular field. he is a constant solicitor of the banker and merchant for facts. his business is not merely to gather information respecting the resources of business men, but to investigate rumours that in themselves may be detrimental to one's credit, and to disprove them where possible and sustain and support the credit of a house. too often it is supposed that the reporter is seeking evidences of weakness when in reality his business is most frequently that of discovering elements of strength. information is freely given him as he interviews men whose businesses and experiences are the depositories for a wealth of credit information. he soon becomes a confidant of the merchant himself, who not only tells him all he knows about the customers and their accounts upon his books, but his own business affairs as well. indeed, the relation becomes so very reciprocal that the reporter often furnishes information to the merchant in the interview on some matter of credit of pressing notice. in this way a corroboration of facts or the denial of a rumour may be effected. he inspects the books of the offices of public record to find the evidence of mortgages, judgments, and transfers of property, and have the same recorded on the agency's books. it is the reporter who finally has gathered the information that determines a firm's ability to have and to hold a line of credit. it is essential to the life of the agency that its reports be honest and free from any element of doubt. the public confidence in the reliability of the reports will determine the prosperity of the company. perhaps at first glance it would seem as if the system of reporting financial information was a serious discrimination against the men of smaller capital and in favour of the wealthy. but mere capital is not the only element entering into an estimate of one's ability to pay. character and reputation are powerful forces in assisting a merchant in determining credit. an agency discloses facts and not opinions. and it is within the range of possibility of any one to create and maintain his credit. capital may grow gradually but credit is sometimes established or destroyed by a single act. the facts obtained by mercantile agencies are not public property. they are given in confidence and for the sole purpose of aiding the business with respect to the propriety of granting credit. the private reports are for the eyes of the interested inquirer and not the curious. whenever some particular item of interest finds its way to an agency that would affect one's credit seriously, such as the giving of chattel mortgage or the confession of a judgment or the sale and transfer of property, it is customary to send unsolicited a special report of these facts to all subscribers on the agency's books who have ever at any time made inquiry concerning the firm. one might expect that these agencies expose themselves to risk of prosecution for libel, but since no malice is ever intended in any report circulated, and since it rarely occurs that damaging reports are sent out by these institutions unless abundantly confirmed, there is little opportunity for litigation of this sort. another field of usefulness of the mercantile agency is in the exposure of the absconding debtor and his whereabouts, and also the dishonest trader who in arranging a fraudulent failure may be striving to open many new accounts. the unusual demands for reports respecting such a one lead to careful investigation. instead of a restrictive tendency a mercantile agency promotes the expansion of credit and yet permits of proper conservatism. it opens to the trader as a market for his merchandise every new and trustworthy account. it curbs speculation, stimulates diligence in business, habituates punctuality, and develops character. when we remember that the present annual internal commerce of our country is estimated at about 800,000,000 tons of merchandise carried an average distance of 120 miles, and that this volume of trade is worth over $10,000,000,000, we are forced to admit that the unique system of these credit agencies has done much to further and make possible this commercial prosperity. ix. bonds united states, state, and municipal bonds when a country borrows money it gives a guaranty that the money will be returned at a particular time and that interest will be paid at regular intervals at a fixed rate. this guaranty is called a bond. in actual practice, instead of borrowing the money required and then giving bonds for its return, countries usually issue the bonds first, and sell them to the highest bidder. for instance, if our government needed to borrow $1,000,000 it would issue bonds for this amount, stating definitely the rate of interest to be paid, and call for bids. if the rate of interest were four per cent. and a buyer paid more than $1000 for a $1000 bond he would, of course, make less than four per cent. upon his investment. such bonds are absolutely safe and always marketable on account of our strong financial standing among the nations of the world. similar bonds are issued by states, cities, towns, school districts, etc. they are not mortgages in the ordinary sense, and their worth consists entirely in the ability of the issuer through its taxing power to meet the obligations incurred. municipal bonds are issued by cities and other municipalities to raise money for local improvements. bonds and certificates of stock a bond is evidence of debt, specifying the interest and stating when the principal shall be paid; a certificate of stock is evidence that the owner is a part owner in the company, not a creditor of the company, and having no right to regain his money except by the sale of the stock or the winding up of the company's business. bonds issued by stock companies and corporations are really mortgages upon their resources. such a bond is usually secured by a mortgage upon the company's plant, franchises, and assets, or some part thereof. corporate bonds can only be issued by the consent and direction of the shareholders of the company or corporation. at the present time a mortgage securing the payment of corporate bonds is usually placed in the hands of a trustee--generally some trust company--which is supposed to act in behalf of the bondholders as a unit and which is empowered by the language of the bond, in the event of the failure of the corporation to perform the obligations it assumes in said bond, to foreclose the mortgage and divide the proceeds of sale among the bondholders.--carroll. classes of corporation bonds corporation bonds are of many classes, differing widely in their value as securities. only a few of the more important classes can be mentioned here. first mortgage bonds constitute, as the name implies, a first lien upon the property of the company issuing them. it is important in estimating the value of such securities to know whether they include only the property of the corporation at the time the bonds were issued or whether they are so worded as to include all property owned or acquired by the corporation. second and third mortgage bonds are second and third liens. the interest upon second and third mortgage bonds is paid only after the interest upon first mortgage bonds is satisfied. when bonds are issued to take up and put into one fund all previously issued mortgage bonds, the new bonds are sometimes called consolidated mortgage bonds. holders of previously issued bonds are not obliged to exchange them for any new securities. income bonds are usually secured by a mortgage on the earnings of the corporation issuing them. interest on such bonds must be paid before dividends are declared to stockholders. it is customary when such bonds are issued to set aside a percentage of the earnings as a sinking fund to meet the bonds at maturity. bonds are issued against all conceivable kinds of securities. not only are properties of many kinds used to issue bonds upon, but many kinds of bonds are often issued upon the same properties. this is especially true of railways, where mortgages of various kinds often lap and overlap in almost endless confusion. sinking funds money set aside by a municipality or corporation to _sink_ a debt at a certain future time is called a sinking fund. for instance, if a city should issue twenty-year bonds for $100,000 to secure money for street improvements the entire debt would fall due in twenty years, but to avoid having such a large amount fall due in one year, a proportional sum is set aside each year as a sinking fund--that is, to _sink_, or reduce, or wipe out the indebtedness when the bonds mature. bonds are not paid in advance of maturity. interest coupons [illustration: specimens of interest coupons.] most bonds have interest coupons attached. these are cut off and presented for payment as they mature. for instance, a four per cent. bond for $1000 would draw $40 interest yearly. this sum would be paid in two instalments of $20 each. if the bond were for twenty years there would be at the date of issue forty interest coupons, each calling for $20 and collectable at intervals of six months. x. transportation by rail the growth of our railroad system a railway map of the united states shows that most parts of our country have a thickly woven net of railroads. the mileage of our railroad lines is now 184,000 miles, the actual length of track on these roads being about 245,000 miles. the significance of these large figures becomes more manifest when a comparison is made between the length of our railroads and the length of those of europe and those of the world. the railroads in the united states comprise over four ninths of the total railway mileage of the world, and are considerably longer than the railroads of all the countries of europe combined. the facts are shown graphically by the following diagram: mileage in europe 155,000 mileage in u. s. 184,000 total for the world 434,000 the history of the construction of american railroads covers a period of seventy years. the greater part of our mileage has been built since 1870. the following table and diagram illustrate the growth of our railway net during each decade: year | miles ------|------- 1830 | 23 1840 | 2,800 1850 | 9,000 1860 | 30,600 1870 | 53,000 1880 | 90,300 1890 | 163,600 1898 | 184,000 it will be noted that the decades of most rapid railway development were the one from 1850 to 1860, following the discovery of gold in california, and the two between 1870 and 1890. we added 70,000 miles to our railway net between 1880 and 1890--a record that no other country has equalled. by 1892 we seem to have met the more urgent demands for new lines, and we are now annually building less than 2000 miles of new roads. the face value of the capital now invested in american railroads is $11,000,000,000. the number of persons employed in the railway service is 850,000. the railway corporation the agents that do the work of transportation by rail are the railway corporations. these "artificial persons" are created by the several states and intrusted with the performance of services of a public nature. in all the german states and to a large degree in many other european states, the governments themselves provide the means of transportation by rail; but in the united states the ownership and management of the railroads is rightly regarded to be a task of greater magnitude than the administrative department of our government is as yet able to cope with. the growth of the railway corporations of the united states has been typical of the evolution of industrial organisation in this country. the early railway corporations were small. the philadelphia, wilmington and baltimore railroad, for instance, comprised the lines of four companies. in 1850 the road connecting albany and buffalo included the lines of seven companies. during the last fifty years most of the small companies have united to form the corporations which now operate our large railway systems. though the last statistical report of the interstate commerce commission--the one for the year ended june 30, 1896--contains financial reports from 1985 companies, there were only 782 "independent operating roads," the remainder of the companies being subsidiary organisations. this report shows that forty-four of these operating companies have an aggregate mileage that equals nearly six tenths of the total railway mileage of the united states. indeed, the statistician to the interstate commerce commission declared in 1894 that "over 83 per cent. of the business of the railways and 82 per cent. of their earnings fall under the control of less than forty associations of business men." the pennsylvania system affords a good concrete illustration of railway consolidation. that corporation, with its 9000 miles of road, was built up by the union of over 200 railroad companies, and it now comprises within its organisation 177 corporations--most, though not all, of which are subsidiary railroad companies. this one railway system does one seventh of the entire freight business performed by all the railroads of the united states and handles one eighth of all the passenger traffic. the freight service of railroads the freight business of the railroads of the united states is much larger than their passenger service, the earnings from freight being nearly three times that from the passenger traffic. it is only in some of the new england states, the most densely populated parts of the united states, that the passenger receipts equal the freight earnings. the industrial conditions of the united states necessitate the movement of great quantities of bulky freight long distances. our principal grain-fields are from 1000 to 1500 miles from the manufacturing districts and seaboard cities. our richest iron deposits are in the states adjacent to lake superior hundreds of miles from the coal-beds of illinois, ohio, and pennsylvania. most of the cotton crop is moved long distances to reach the mills of new england and great britain. in fact, most of the products of our fields, forests, mines, and factories are marketed over wide areas. the average distance travelled by each ton of freight moved during the year ended june 30, 1896, was 124.47 miles; and, as the railroads carried 765,891,385 tons that year, the number of tons carried one mile was 95,328,360,278. a comparison of the revenues received from the freight and passenger services by the american, german, french, and british railways is instructive. for each dollar received from the passenger traffic the american railroads earn $2.95 from their freight business, the german roads $2.40, the french $1.31 and the british railways $1.17. the united kingdom has the greatest volume of passenger traffic per population of any country in the world. american passenger traffic on railroads relatively undeveloped the long distances of the united states necessitate a large freight traffic but act as a hindrance to travel. it is a generally accepted but erroneous supposition that americans travel more than any other people. a comparison of the passenger traffic in the united states with that in the united kingdom, germany, and france reveals some surprising facts. the figures are for 1896. the number of passengers carried one mile per mile of road upon the railroads of the united states was 71,705, in france the number was 273,315, in germany 315,399, and in the united kingdom 440,000. the average distance which the briton travels per year by rail is 244 miles; for the american the distance is 209 miles, for the frenchman 176 miles, and for the german 165 miles. the englishman takes 24.4 trips per year on an average, the german 11.3, the frenchman 9.6, and the american 8.2. americans travel extensively, but it is evident from the foregoing comparisons that the possibility of developing the passenger service in this country has by no means reached its limit. relation of transportation on railroads to economic organisation the economic changes which have accompanied the great development of transportation that has taken place during the last fifty years have revolutionised our industrial and social life. among the effects of developed transportation upon the economic organisation may be noted: first, that relations of producers and consumers have been fundamentally changed by placing a larger market at the service of both. many classes of commodities are now bought and sold in a world market that were formerly restricted to local trade. second, improved transportation has made the prices of commodities more uniform for different producers and consumers. the variations due to situation have been lessened. in a like manner there has been a decrease in those time variations in prices that result from changes in the supply of commodities. improved transportation also makes prices lower--not only because it reduces the costs of moving the raw materials of manufacture and the finished products of industry, but also because it enables the merchant to turn his stock oftener and thus do business with less expenses for capital. as a third effect of improved transportation may be mentioned the acceleration which it has given to the growth of cities. cheap and efficient transportation has led manufacturers to locate their plants where they can command a large supply of labour and where they have the greatest advantages for the distribution of their products. the great manufacturing establishments are now located in chicago, new york, philadelphia, pittsburg, and the other large cities. conditions of transportation have become a stronger factor than even the location of the sources of raw materials in determining where an industry shall be established. the effect of the railroad upon the location of agriculture has been no less potent. the railroad has brought new agricultural regions into cultivation and destroyed the profits of cereal agriculture in many parts of the eastern states. another important consequence of improved transportation and communication has been that of bringing the nations of the world into closer economic and social relations. with the growing solidarity of the economic interests of the countries of the world, with the multiplication of the intellectual and other social ties that unite the nations, their political relations inevitably change, and for the better. nothing is doing more to advance the attainments of the cherished ideal of international amity than is the development of transportation. xi. freight transportation by rail the origin of railroad traffic associations the performance of the transportation services necessitates the co-operation of carriers. when the government owns and operates the railroads of a country they are managed by a single authority, and the different parts of the railway system are fully co-ordinated; but when the railroads are operated by a large number of independent corporations, co-operation can be secured only by means of traffic associations composed of representatives of the railway companies, and intrusted with the power of making arrangements affecting joint traffic, and settling questions involving the interests of two or more companies. two distinct causes brought about the establishment of railway traffic associations. the first cause was the necessity of co-operation to facilitate the joint business of connecting lines. through tickets, joint fares and rates, through bills of lading, the interchange of cars between connecting roads, and the settlement of joint accounts led to the establishment of co-operative freight lines, car-service associations, claim associations, and various other general and local organisations for the promotion of the joint transportation business. the other cause of co-operation among the railways was the necessity of regulating competition. this cause first became potent after the process of consolidation had brought about the formation of numerous large railway systems, and had inaugurated the violent competition which led to discriminations in transportation charges, rate wars, and the other evils which have combined to produce "the railway question." the competitive struggles of rival railway systems began to be violent shortly after 1867, and soon led to the formation of railway traffic associations, with enlarged powers. the classification of freight, the determination of rates on competitive traffic, and the apportionment of that traffic, or of the earnings from it, among the competitors became functions of the associations. the work of albert fink the man who did more than any other person to develop traffic associations and to promote the co-operation of competing railroads was the late albert fink. it was his master mind that organised and put into successful operation in 1876 the southern railway and steamship association. the following year albert fink succeeded in organising the great trunk lines connecting the north atlantic seaboard and the states north of the ohio river. though smaller traffic associations similar to these two organisations had been previously established where but few obstacles had to be overcome, it was fink who first organised traffic associations including all the competing railroads serving large sections of the country. in discussing the work of traffic associations, which are to-day concerns of really enormous magnitude, railway pooling and the classification of freight especially demand consideration. railroad pooling railroad pools are agreements entered into by competing carriers, by which the railroads provide for the division with each other of their competitive traffic, or of the earnings from that traffic in accordance with stipulated ratios. thus there are traffic pools and money pools. during the decade preceding 1887, the year when the present interstate commerce law was enacted, most traffic associations had the pooling feature, and most of the competitive railway traffic was pooled, thus eliminating all competition in rates. pooling agreements have never been legal in this country. being illegal by the common law, they could not be enforced in the courts. section 4 of the interstate commerce law made it unlawful for the carriers subject to the act to pool their freights or the earnings from their freight traffic, and made it necessary for the traffic associations to reorganise without the pooling agreements. until march 22, 1897, it was supposed that the associations, without pooling agreements, were legal; but, on that date, in the case of the united states _vs._ the trans-missouri freight association, the united states supreme court held that the law of july 2, 1890, popularly known as the sherman anti-trust law, applied to railways, and made it illegal for railway companies to contract with each other to maintain rates. thus at the present time traffic associations are permitted neither to contain a pooling feature nor to provide arrangements for the enforcement or maintenance of rates, although the charges may be reasonable and be sanctioned by all the carriers interested. the associations may now legally exercise those functions which are connected with the joint business of their members, and they may act as bureaus of information regarding the competitive traffic. they have no power to make or to maintain rates. traffic associations including pooling should be legalised the best performance of the service of transportation by rail requires the fullest possible co-ordination of the different parts of our transportation system and the largest attainable measure of co-operation among the agents who perform the service. section 4 of the act of 1887 and the law of july, 1890, as far as the latter relates to railways, are based on an unsound theory. provision having been made for that kind and measure of governmental regulation of railway rates that will insure reasonable charges, the railways should be permitted to co-operate in rate-making and be given power to pool their competitive business. classification of railroad freight there are thousands of varieties of freight offered to the railroads for transportation. if each class of commodities were charged the same freight rate per ton per mile, the charges upon many articles of prime necessity, such as coal, lumber, and grain, would be so high as to prevent their being moved, while the rates on goods of high value per bulk would be much lower than they could readily pay. classification must precede the fixing of rate schedules. the railroads are interested in adjusting their charges to services performed in such a manner as to insure the greatest possible amount of traffic at rates that are properly remunerative. the public is interested in having the necessary revenues of the railroads so levied as to make the burdens as light as possible. to accomplish this a careful grouping of commodities is necessary. the goods are usually classified in five or six large divisions. the official classification referred to below has six classes. the first class consists of articles of high value, the sixth class of bulky commodities of low value, such as iron ore, lumber, grain in bulk, etc. in practice, however, the number of classes is at least doubled. goods of especially high value are made to pay once and a half, double, treble or quadruple the regular first-class rate. a commodity is also frequently placed in more than one class, the rating of classification being lower for car-load lots than for less than car-load shipments. the classification is further extended by omitting certain articles from the list of those classified. live stock and coal are illustrations of articles to which so-called "commodity," as distinct from "classification," rates are given. the individual shippers are constantly endeavouring to have their goods given commodity rates, and the effort of the railroad companies is to reduce the number of articles excepted from classification. commodity tariffs have been a fruitful source of unjust discrimination. from this description of freight classifications it will be perceived that the main basis upon which the grouping of commodities rests is the relative value of the goods. the gradations cannot, however, be made strictly according to value. the goods are frequently put into a lower class than their value would warrant in order to stimulate their production and shipment or to develop the industries depending upon those articles. at first each railroad worked out a classification of its own, and there were practically as many classifications as there were railway systems. the disadvantages of this soon became apparent with the development of long-distance traffic. the multiplicity of classifications made it difficult for shippers or purchasers to ascertain in advance what the charges on consignments would be; there was a constant tendency to increase the number of commodity tariffs, and unjust personal and local discriminations were in consequence made more numerous. it became evident that there would be great advantages in having one uniform classification for the whole united states. this ideal has not been reached yet, but the number of classifications has been practically reduced to three--the official, applying to the traffic north of the potomac and ohio and west of the mississippi; the southern, in force among the railroads in the southern states, and the western, which obtains in the territory west of the mississippi river. this amalgamation of the classifications has been brought about chiefly by the traffic associations and as the result of the enactment of the interstate commerce law. in order to avoid the discriminations prohibited by that law it was necessary to abandon the system of a separate classification for each railway. it is to be hoped that the attainment of the ideal of uniform classification will not be long delayed. the conduct of the freight business of railroads--transportation papers the manner in which the freight business is conducted affords a good illustration of the high degree of development to which modern business methods have attained. freight is accepted by each railroad for shipment not only to all points on its own system, but also practically to every railway station in the country, and even to many foreign cities. a waybill containing the initials of the number of the car used, the name of the consignor, the name and address of the consignee, the description and weight of the articles sent, the freight class and rate of the goods, and the total amount of freight charges, accompanies each shipment and is delivered to the agent at the place to which the goods are shipped. for the goods thus accepted for transportation, manifests, or "bills of lading," are issued to the consignor, which, like other representatives of property, may be transferred by the owner or may be deposited in a bank subject to draft. bills of lading are of two general kinds--"straight consignment bills" and "order bills." when a straight consignment bill of lading is issued the goods must be delivered to the consignee or to the person to whom he may order them delivered. an order bill of lading is one that may be transferred upon indorsement. the following concise description of an order bill of lading is taken from the "book of general instructions to freight agents," issued by the pennsylvania railroad company: when freight is consigned to "order" it is, as a rule, for the purpose of securing the payment at destination of a draft for the value of the property. the draft is usually attached to the bill of lading and sent through a bank for collection from the party at destination, who is to be notified of the arrival of the freight. the payment of the draft secures to the payer the possession of the bill of lading, which must be indorsed by the party to whose order the property is consigned. xii. railroad rates transportation charges have such a general and vital relation to industrial and social welfare that the problem of the just and equitable distribution of their assessment is one of paramount economic and political consequence. a consideration of the main factors which influence the railway companies in fixing charges should precede a discussion of the regulation of transportation by the government. general factors which determine railroad rates and fares the factors which have most weight in fixing schedules of rates and fares are what it will cost to perform the several services, what the services are worth to those for whom they are to be rendered, and the extent to which there is competition among rival carriers to secure the traffic concerned. though on the face of things it would seem that the railways should fix the charges for their various services in accordance with the costs of performing those services, it is neither practicable for them to do so nor is it desirable from the standpoint of public welfare that such a criterion should be adopted. it is impracticable for the railroads to base their charges upon cost of service, because it is impossible to determine accurately the elements which enter into the cost of performing the particular transportation service. the modern railroad is a very complex mechanism, employed in the performance of a multitude of different services. no railroad official is able to say just how much of the company's total expenses are to be charged against any one particular freight or passenger service. the cost of service would be an undesirable basis of rates, because the railroads would derive such a small part of their total necessary revenues from the carriage of goods having a high value in proportion to bulk and weight, that they would be obliged to charge much higher rates than they now do upon the cruder products of the farm, forest, and mine. these products are the basic materials of industry, and the lowest possible rate for their transportation is essential to social and economic progress. value of service and value of commodities value of service is a more desirable basis for rates and fares than cost of service. by charging according to value of service is meant that the shippers of commodities and the passengers who travel shall contribute to the railroad's aggregate expenses in proportion to the value which they derive from the transportation service. the rates and fares may cover a part or all of the value of the service obtained. in either case they are fixed with reference to that value and not with regard to the cost involved in performing the work of transportation. the levy of rates and fares in accordance with this theory, which is usually called "charging what the traffic will bear," is considered by most people to distribute transportation charges properly, because it is claimed that the true measure of a shipper's or a passenger's ability to pay for a desired service is the value which he will thereby derive. that this theory, nevertheless, does not afford an altogether satisfactory basis of charges, particularly in the freight traffic, may be readily shown. while it is true that the amount of value added by transportation to goods of low value is less for each unit of weight or bulk than the amount of value which is acquired by an equal weight or bulk of high-priced commodities, yet the _percentage_ increase in value is greater in the case of the goods of low cost. expensive articles can be carried long distances without adding very much to their cost to the consumers. measured in their percentages, then, the value of the service of transportation is relatively much lower in the case of the higher-priced commodities. the freight charges on wheat range from twenty to forty per cent. of its farm value, while the rate on shoes is possibly two per cent. of their factory price. that these charges are levied in accordance with the real ability of the articles to pay would be hard to establish. a partial theory of railroad freight rates without attempting in this connection to formulate a complete theory of freight rates, it may be said that there are three factors to which weight should be given in fixing charges: first, _the cost of service_. the total costs of transportation, including a fair return on invested capital, must be covered by total receipts. furthermore, the minimum rate charged any particular class of commodities ought to be sufficient to pay the operating expenses incurred in transporting the goods. second, _the value of the service_. this fixes the maximum rate that may be charged. were the railroads to charge more than the service is worth to the shipper the service would not be desired. third, _the value of the commodities_. between the minimum rate fixed by the operating expenses and the maximum charge determined by the value of the service actual rates may vary through a wide possible range. in determining what rates within this range will be theoretically most just and least discriminatory, consideration should be given both to the value of the service and--more than is the case at present--to the value of the articles transported. by doing this rates will be paid by the various articles of freight more nearly in proportion to their ability to pay. the effect of competition on railroad rates and fares whatever theory of rates may be accepted as ideally best, it cannot be strictly adhered to under the existing conditions of active competition obtaining in the united states. actual charges have to be fixed and revised to meet the varying circumstances under which railway traffic is conducted. this competition takes several distinct forms. one is that between railways and waterways. a large part of the domestic traffic of the united states has the choice of transportation by rail or by water on the great lakes and the tributary canals, by the navigable rivers, or by one of the many ocean routes followed by our coastwise commerce. there is also the competition of rival railways connecting common termini or serving the same cities. these forms of competition are the ones most frequently noted; but they perhaps exercise a less potent influence over rates than what is known as competition through the markets or through the channels of trade. the competition between rival centres of commerce and industry--between the atlantic cities and the gulf ports, for instance, or between the manufactures of new york and philadelphia and those of chicago or cincinnati for the markets of the southern states, to cite another example--is a force that must be considered in making rates and fares. even towns served by only one railway and by no waterway enjoy the benefits of this industrial competition. unless the railroad can give the industries in these local towns rates that will enable them to market their products, the industries will decline and the railway will lose its traffic. an interesting result of the competition of roads connecting common termini or joining a common industrial region with seaboard points is that the road whose line is the longest and whose expenses of transportation are greatest is obliged to charge the lowest rate. the short lines can charge more because they compete for traffic under more favourable circumstances. the lower charge of the longer line is called a differential rate, and it is customary for the shorter or "standard" lines to agree to allow the "differential" line a stipulated differential rate. this is the concession which the standard lines are obliged to make to temper competition and to prevent rate wars. the grand trunk, running from chicago to boston by way of montreal, is a good example of a differential line, and the new york central is a good instance of a standard line. governmental regulation of railroad transportation it is a maxim of common law that transportation charges must be reasonable, and the exaction of an unreasonable rate by a public carrier is a common-law misdemeanour punishable by the courts. but when, as the result of severe competition of railroads with waterways and with each other, unjust discriminations between persons, between places, and as regards classes of traffic--the abuses which constitute the railway question--became prevalent, the common-law provisions applying to railway charges were given statutory form and were supplemented and extended by such legislation as the circumstances peculiar to the situation seemed to demand. the comprehensive railwayand canal-traffic act passed by great britain in 1854 has been the model adopted for much of the railway legislation in the united states. the constitution of the united states gives congress power to regulate commerce "among the several states," but the jurisdiction over intrastate traffic lies with the state governments. the states began to pass general laws for the regulation of railroads fully twenty years before congress acted, and two thirds of the states have established commissions to administer those laws. the interstate commerce law after fifteen years of agitation and investigation the existing interstate commerce law was enacted in 1887. the law prohibits unreasonable rates and unjust discriminations between persons, places, and classes of traffic, prohibits pooling agreements, provides penalties for the violation of the law, and establishes a commission of five men to administer and enforce the statute. fortunately for the commission and for the country the first chairman of that body was the eminent jurist, thomas m. cooley, whose master mind did much to give vitality to the law. during the first five years after the law was passed it secured a fairly efficient regulation of interstate railway commerce, but recent decisions of the united states supreme court have so weakened the law that at present the commission has very little power. the commission can investigate complaints and make reports, it can collect statistical information, it can and does informally adjust many differences between shippers and carriers; but, to quote from the last report of the commission, "it has ceased to be a body for the regulation of interstate carriers." legislation to amend and strengthen the interstate commerce law is urgently needed. [illustration: judge thomas m. cooley. (first chairman of the interstate commerce commission.)] xiii. stock and produce exchanges the stock exchange the stock exchanges of the world must not be considered simply as noisy congregations of brokers speculating in securities under the guise of legitimate business. they really play an important and necessary part in the financial mechanism of the country, and are instruments of enormous value in subdividing and distributing capital, and in directing its employment in great commercial and industrial enterprises. the largest stock exchange of the world is that of london. it is not only the centre of the english market for stocks and securities but, like the bank of england, it is linked internationally with nearly all the financial centres of the world. almost every reputable security is marketable in london, either through the ordinary channels provided by arbitrage dealers, who buy in the cheaper and sell in the dearer markets, or through the agency of trusts and investment concerns. the magnitude and extent of the financial resources of the london stock exchange are enormous. its advantages to the business public outweigh altogether the drawbacks imposed by the too-speculative spirit of mankind. it is a great business barometer, extremely sensitive to all conditions likely to disturb the world's finances. the london stock exchange has scarcely more than one hundred years of history. in the early part of the century the elder rothschild was one of the giants "on 'change," and it was in this business that he amassed the great fortune which makes the name of his house a synonym for money power. the membership of the london exchange is not limited to a fixed number, as in paris and new york. in the paris bourse all agents are strictly forbidden to trade on their own account. [illustration: the paris bourse.] the new york stock exchange was formed in 1792. there are 1100 members. members are elected and must be nominated by two men who will say that they would accept the uncertified cheque of the nominee for $20,000. the initiation fee is $20,000. memberships have sold as high as $32,500, and the market value of a seat on the exchange varies only slightly from year to year. [illustration: interior view of new york stock exchange.] there are stock exchanges in all large cities, and scattered throughout the country in convenient centres are grain and produce exchanges, cotton exchanges, petroleum exchanges, etc. these exchanges are really the central markets for the commodities they represent. commodity exchanges deal in actual products, even though the dealers handle nothing but warehouse receipts or promises to deliver. stock exchanges deal in credits and securities, which may or may not have a tangible value back of them. there is no reason why bonds and shares should not be publicly dealt in--and in large quantities--as well as dry goods, corn or cotton; but, unfortunately, few stock exchanges confine their transactions wholly to legitimate business. you will look in vain in the quotations for the stock of dozens of corporations whose securities are among the choicest investments. it is upon fluctuations that stock speculations prosper, and it is often true that the largest profits are made on the poorest stocks. transactions are quickly collected and reported to the world. in hundreds of offices in new york, chicago, and other american cities may be seen a little instrument called a _ticker_, which automatically prints abbreviated names of stocks, with their prices, on a narrow ribbon of paper. these _tickers_ are rented to these offices by the telegraph companies, and as fast as the sales are made the quotations are ticked off in thousands of offices in all parts of the united states. technical terms of stock exchanges the term _bull_ is applied to those who are purchasers of stock for long account, with the purpose of advancing prices, as the tendency of a bull is to elevate everything within his reach. the term _bear_ is applied to those who sell short stock, with the purpose of depreciating values. the _bear_ operates for a decline in prices. the broker's charge for his services is called a _commission_, which in the new york stock exchange is one eighth of one per cent. each way on a par value of the security purchased or sold. a _point_ means one per cent. on the par value of a stock or bond. _stock privileges_ or _puts_ and _calls_ are extensively dealt in abroad and to some extent here. a _put_ is an agreement in the form of a written or printed contract filled out to suit the case, whereby the signer of it agrees to accept upon one day's notice, except on the day of expiration, a certain number of shares of a given stock at a stipulated price. a _call_ is the reverse of a _put_, giving its owner the right to demand the stock under the same conditions. a _put_ may serve as an insurance to an investor against a radical decline in the value of stocks he owns; a _call_ may be purchased by a man whose property is not immediately available, but who may desire to be placed in a position to procure the shares at the _call_ price, if they are not below that in the open market when he secures the necessary funds. the speculator usually trades on _margins_. if he has $500 to invest he buys $5000 worth of stock, his $500 being ten per cent. of the total amount. he expects to sell again before the remaining amount falls due. the _margin_ is usually placed by the speculator in the hands of a broker as a guaranty against loss. although these brokers are really agents for others, yet _on 'change_ they stand in the mutual relationship of principals. a _margin_ is merely a partial payment, but a broker buying stock for a client on _margin_ is compelled to wholly pay for it. if he has not the necessary capital his usual custom is to borrow from banks or money-lenders, pledging the stock as collateral security. in foreign exchanges the element of credit enters more largely into the conduct of business. where the credit of the client in london is established his broker does not, ordinarily, call on him for any cash until the next "settlement day." a _wash sale_ is a fictitious transaction made by two members acting in collusion for the purpose of swelling the volume of apparent business in a security and thus giving a false impression of its value. stocks sell _dividend-on_ between the time the dividend is declared and the day the books of the company close for transfer; after that they sell _ex-dividend_, in which case the dividend does not go to the buyer. when a company decides not to declare a dividend it is said to _pass its dividend_. to sell stock _buyer 3_ is to give the buyer the privilege of taking it on the day of purchase or on any of the three following days, without interest; and to sell stock _seller 3_ is to give the seller the privilege of delivering it on the day of purchase or on any one of the three following days without interest. _buyer 3_ is a little lower and _seller 3_ a little higher than _regular way_ when the market is in a normal condition. _bucket shops_ are establishments conducted nominally for the transaction of a stock-exchange business but really for the registration of bets or wagers, usually for small amounts, on the rise or fall of the prices of stocks, there being no transfer or delivery of the commodities nominally dealt in. there are thousands of these counterfeit concerns throughout the country conducted without any regard for legitimate commercial enterprises. future delivery grain is stored in warehouses until needed for milling or shipment. when we speak of _december wheat_ we mean wheat that is to be delivered to the buyer in december. the carrying charges include storage, interest, and insurance, so that wheat sold for _may delivery_ would necessarily bring a higher price than wheat sold for december delivery. carrying charges are in favour of the _short_ seller. when sold for immediate delivery it is known as _cash grain_. xiv. storage and warehousing bonded warehouses there is a government regulation that an importer who does not wish to pay immediately the customs duties on his goods may have them stored in a warehouse, provided he furnish a bond with a surety that he will pay the duty within three years or export the goods to some other country. it is also a requisite that the goods be deposited in a bonded warehouse in the care and custody of its proprietor, who also must furnish the government with a bond of indemnity. the bond of the proprietor is a general bond and usually covers what might be considered a fair amount of total values due the government at any time. officers of the united states are stationed at the bonded warehouse during business hours. these are there in evidence of the government's proprietary interest in the merchandise stored. when an importer makes entry at the custom house for bonding his goods, he at that time provides the security required. by a recent decision of the treasury department at washington goods in bond are in the joint custody of the united states government and the proprietor of the warehouse, and after the government has received its customs duties for the goods they are in the proprietor's sole possession. the government cannot interfere to enforce delivery of the goods to the importer. the claim of the warehouse proprietor for storage charges becomes a first lien after the government's claim is satisfied. when the importer has paid both customs and storage charges he is privileged to remove his goods. warehouse regulations it is the duty of united states storekeepers to check off the goods as they are received at the warehouse and to report the same to the custom house; and when goods are to be withdrawn to see that delivery is not made until a custom house permit is presented. upon payment of the import duty on goods in bond at the custom house at any time after importation, the customs officials issue a warehouse permit to the importer ordering the united states storekeeper in charge of the bonded warehouse to deliver the goods to the importer, and upon presentation of the permit the goods are released unless the proprietor holds them subject to storage charges. goods may be held in bond for three years with the duty unpaid, but after that time either the duty must be paid or the goods exported. if shipped to another country and afterward re-imported the goods would again be entitled to the three-year privilege. if goods are not exported and the customs charges are due and unpaid, the government may dispose of the goods at public sale to obtain its claim. goods arriving by steamer and unclaimed lie at the wharf forty-eight hours. if the owner does not appear to make entry for them within that time, after the entry for the vessel has been made, the goods are sent to a bonded warehouse and remain there on what is known as a general order, and if they stand there unclaimed for a year they may, at the expiration of that time, be sold by the government. the capital of a warehouse is its storage space. the rates vary from 1/4 to 3/4 of a cent per cubic foot. the charges may be based on the amount of space consumed and the weight of the merchandise. the latter often determines the floor elevation to which the goods may be assigned. the more convenient of access the storage location is, the greater the cost. warehouse receipts are issued as evidence of storage. all merchandise is conveniently bulked for numbering and marking, and these distinguishing marks appear on the receipts. negotiable and non-negotiable receipts are issued as the needs of the owner may require. the former permit advances to be made by bankers upon the merchandise as collateral security. free warehouses these differ from bonded warehouses only in the fact that the government has no control or interest in them. they are only for the storage of imported goods on which the customs duty has been paid or for goods imported free of duty or for merchandise of domestic production and manufacture. they are managed entirely by the proprietor, and the contracts for storage are, of course, between the proprietor of the warehouse and the owner of the goods. the storage rates in free warehouses are considerably lower than for goods stored in bonded warehouses--the latter being a much more expensive business to conduct. there is no time limit in free warehouses. goods may remain indefinitely. when they remain from six months to a year the charges are collected usually at certain periods to avoid accumulation. experience shows that goods in free warehouses do not stay so long as those in bond. the articles commonly found in these houses are domestic and imported wools, cotton, canned goods, peanuts, yarns, cotton piece goods, mattings, dry goods, etc. perishable goods, of course, do not find their way into bonded or free warehouses. these are placed in cold storage. banking features of warehousing many of the warehouses find it advantageous to do a banking business in connection with the storage features. very frequently, for the convenience of the importer, goods are consigned to the warehouse and sent subject to a sight draft for the amount of the invoice. the warehouse company will pay the draft with the exception of about twenty per cent., which the importer is expected to furnish. if the duty is paid then the value upon which a loan is estimated is based upon the market value of the goods in this country. after the draft has been satisfied the goods are placed in the stores of the warehouse company subject to the customs and storage charges. the amount advanced by the company bears interest at current money rates. in illustration let us suppose bonded goods to be shipped and invoiced at $10,000, customs duty $4000, and the goods consigned to a bonded warehouse. the draft ($10,000) is sent to the warehousing company, which advances $8000, and together with the $2000 received from the importer pays the draft. the $8000 loan made by the company is then charged to the importer at the usual interest rate, and when the borrower withdraws his merchandise from storage he will have to pay the government the $4000 customs duty and pay back his loan of $8000 to the warehouse company, together with interest and storage charges. if any portion of the goods stored is withdrawn for use in the business of the importer, the company will rebate a proportionate amount of the interest. if goods decline in value as collateral in storage the company will demand additional margin for its protection. if goods appreciate in value the loan may be increased. the market value of the goods is ascertained by the appraisement of some expert, who receives a commission for his services. cold storage the cold-storage warehouse is the natural result of the necessities of our great agricultural interests in the preservation of perishable products so sensitive to the deteriorating effects of temperature. the solution of the problem of the preservation of dairy products, meats, fish, poultry, fruits, and vegetables has developed a system that has eliminated the seasons and made possible the equalisation of prices of the finer class of edibles. the cornering of products and the creation of unreasonable prices are avoided. no article becomes a glut on the market as formerly. when there is a surplus of eggs and fruit, prices may be maintained by putting them in cold storage for a few days and offering them on the market when the conditions of trade warrant. temperature requirements for cold storage prior to the year 1890 cold storage was dependent upon the employment of ice, but in the evolution of the cold-storage warehouse ice is no longer a requisite. in fact, the temperature obtained by the employment of ice precluded a thermometric register much below the freezing point. the accepted temperature for butter and eggs was formerly 40° to 50°; but through the introduction of mechanical refrigeration, which has revolutionised the business economically as well as physically, eggs now are held in storage at a temperature of 31° and butter from 10° to 18°. under the former method of ice storage, goods that were offered on the market as "held goods"--that is, as coming from a cold storage--always brought several cents under the prices of fresh merchandise. but the remarkable modern methods of cold storage permit the carrying of dairy products for a number of months and their successful sale afterward in competition with fresh goods. eggs stored in march are taken out in the following november and have commanded as high and often higher prices than the fresh commodity. eggs have been kept two years and found perfectly sweet when used. in freezing poultry and fish the temperature now frequently given is zero and under. poultry does not carry so well as other merchandise. although it is possible to keep it for two years, yet it loses its flavour. five or six months' storage is its usual average limit. certain temperatures are maintained in the various compartments of a cold-storage warehouse according to the requirements of the products, and these temperatures are made possible by forcing through pipes arranged around each compartment a brine composed of about ninety-five per cent. of pure salt whose temperature has been reduced by the action of the chemicals. when a shipper stores his goods there is an implied contract with the storage company that the temperature required for the product will be furnished and maintained. failure to do this renders the company liable for any damage to property. so vital is this feature of the business, which is really the only liability assumed by the company, that the custom prevails of taking the temperature of each room as often as five times in every twenty-four hours, and keeping the record in temperature books open to the inspection of the shippers. a room filled with merchandise may not vary in temperature one degree in six months. cold-storage centres chicago very naturally is the leading cold-storage centre. its situation in the heart of the productive area and its advantages as a distributing centre have given it its prestige. but in the last two or three years the eastern cities, new york, philadelphia, and boston, have developed enormous cold-storage facilities, and chicago no longer is absolute in her dictation to the markets of the world. when it is remembered that the dairy interests of our country during the last three years averaged an annual value of $650,000,000, and that the greater portion of this found its way into cold-storage warehouses, the importance of this new and very necessary business is readily appreciated. cold-storage charges the cold-storage charges for eggs in thirty-dozen cases would be about 15 cents per case for the first month and 9 cents for every additional month. butter in sixty-pound tubs would be charged at the rate of 12 cents per tub for each month. cheese would cost one tenth of a cent a pound per month. the rates of eastern cities are usually higher than in the west. about ninety per cent. of the storage business of the east is in goods shipped from the west. the refrigerator car is a valuable adjunct to the business. the temperature of the cars is about 45°. although no ice is used in the modern cold-storage plant, yet the ice has become a very valuable by-product. since all the facilities for its manufacture are at hand it has become a matter of commercial expediency to employ them to the company's profit in the production and sale of a commodity indispensable to modern life. questions for review 1. give some particulars in which the bank of england differs from our larger national banks. 2. a bank cheque is a demand order for money drawn by one who has funds in the bank. how does a cheque differ from an order on a--- b---to pay bearer a certain sum of money? 3. you are sending a cheque through the mails to john brown, chicago. how will you prevent the cheque from falling into the hands of the wrong brown? 4. you identify a---b---at your bank. the cheque a---b--- presented turns out to be a forgery. are you responsible? 5. what is meant by power of attorney? how should an attorney indorse cheques for any person for whom he is acting? 6. what is a certified cheque? brown gives a an ordinary cheque for $1000, and b a certified cheque for $1000. he fails before either cheque is presented. why is b's security for his claim considered better than a's? 7. show how all the banks of the united states are connected through the clearing-house system. 8. how do state and national banks differ as to their organisation? 9. a national bank has a capital of half a million. a customer asks for a loan of $62,000 on indorsed paper. can the bank legally grant the loan? 10. give some particulars of the liabilities of the officers and directors of national banks. 11. what is meant by borrowing money on _collaterals_? how is this done? 12. tell how it is possible for a young man of good character, but without friends who have financial standing, to secure bonds for his faithful conduct in a responsible position. 13. when rates are high bankers prefer to deal in long-time paper. why? 14. account for the fact that london is the financial centre of the world. 15. explain in detail the business of a note broker, giving some particulars of his responsibility in connection with the paper handled. 16. enumerate the leading items of resource and liability in a national-bank statement. 17. a bank receives from the comptroller of the treasury $100,000 in new bank-notes of its own issue. what ledger entry? a bank retires $10,000 of its own bank-notes. what entry? 18. discuss fully the points which should enter into a proper estimate of the value of paper offered for discount. 19. give the successive and necessary steps in the formation of a joint stock company. 20. why are companies which properly exist and belong in one state sometimes organised under the laws of another state? 21. explain very fully the difference as to resource and liability between a bondholder and a stockholder. 22. how may a stock company be dissolved? 23. what is the difference between a voluntary association, such as a society or club, and a stock company? 24. explain very fully the meaning of _limited_ when it forms part of the legal title of a company. 25. is it legal to sell shares of stock and issue mortgage bonds upon the same property? what relationship do they bear one to the other? examination paper note.--_the following questions are given as a means by which the student may test for himself whether he has attentively pursued the lessons of the course or not. it is recommended that each student as he finishes the course write out the answers to the questions in full. only such answers need be attempted as the student can frame from a careful study of the course._ 1. (_a_) give some particulars in which the bank of england differs from our larger national banks. (_b_) enumerate some of the advantages afforded to the community and to commerce in general by banking institutions. (_c_) how do private banks and trust companies differ from national banks? 2. (_a_) what is a stock certificate? how does it differ from a mortgage bond? (_b_) at what rate must united states 4 per cents be bought to net 3.2465 per cent.? (_c_) give the successive and necessary steps in the formation of a stock company. how can the stock of a company or corporation be increased? 3. (_a_) what provision is usually made for the redemption of municipal bonds which have a long period to run? (_b_) what is meant when we say that a certain railway is in the hands of a receiver? (_c_) give some of the advantages which stock companies have over partnerships. 4. (_a_) tell how you would receipt for a payment on a note. why is not an ordinary separate receipt sufficient? (_b_) discuss fully the points which should enter into a proper estimate of the value of paper offered for discount. (_c_) explain in detail the business of a note broker, giving some particulars of his responsibility in connection with the paper handled. 5. (_a_) what are the advantages to the banks of a city of their central clearing-house? (_b_) show by a diagram how collections are made between distant points. (_c_) what is a certified check? 6. (_a_) enumerate some of the abuses of rate discrimination in the united states and tell how they are met. (_b_) what are the advantages to the public of freight organisations which arrange for through service? (_c_) explain in detail the methods adopted by leading and competing railway lines to regulate and adjust freight rates. (_d_) what are _differentials_? how are (1) through and (2) local passenger rates regulated? 7. (_a_) give the particulars in which a warehouse receipt resembles and differs from (1) a promissory note, (2) a bill of lading. (_b_) what are the advantages to the importer of bonded warehouses? (_c_) what are the duties of our foreign consuls with reference to the importation of goods? commercial law i. the different kinds of contracts commercial law relates to contracts. these are made by almost every one. a person cannot ride in a street-car without making a contract with the company for carrying him. if he goes into a store and buys a cigar, a stick of candy, or a tin whistle, he has made a contract with the man behind the counter, who owns the store or is his salesman. tramps and thieves are about the only persons who live without making contracts. in that respect they are like the birds of the air, getting whatever they desire whenever the chance is seen. a contract has been defined as an agreement to do or not to do some particular thing. these are the words used by one of the greatest of american judges. the reader may turn to his dictionary and find other definitions that contain more, if he pleases, but this will answer our purpose. all contracts may be put into three classes, and each of these will be briefly explained. first, sealed and unsealed contracts. what do we mean by a contract that is sealed? it is one to which the person who signs it adds, after his name, a seal. but what is a seal? it may consist of sealing-wax, stamped in a peculiar manner, or a wafer made of sealing-wax, or a paper wafer. in the olden times when people could hunt and fight but were not able to write their names, they put a seal at the end of a contract made by them; in other words, the seal supplied the place of a name. each person's seal differed from the seal of every other. it had its origin really in the ignorance of the people. as they were unable to write their names these distinct signs or marks, called seals, were put on instead of their signatures. with the changes brought by time the form of this device or seal, required by law, is much simpler than it was centuries ago. indeed, in every state persons use the letters "l. s.," with brackets around them, instead of a seal. they mean "the place of a seal," and are just as good in every way as any kind of seal that might be used. here are two of the forms of seals in most common use: [illustration] any contract that has a seal after the name of the signer is a sealed contract, and every other is called an unsealed, oral, or verbal contract. if a contract was written and a seal was added after the signer's name, and there was another exactly like it in form, but without a seal, this would be called an unsealed or verbal contract, and in law would differ in some important respects from the other. this is true in every state except california, where the difference between sealed and unsealed contracts is no longer known. the second class of contracts are called express and implied contracts. by an express contract is meant one that is made either in writing or in words. but the reader may ask, are not all contracts of this kind? by no means. many contracts exist between people which have not been put into words. suppose a should ask b for employment and it should be given to him, but no word should pass between them about the price to be paid. the law would _imply_ that b must pay him whatever his work was reasonably worth. if a should come at the end of the week for his pay and b should say to him: "i never made any bargain with you concerning the price, and i am unwilling to pay you anything," a could, if he understood the law, say to b: "you told me to work, and the law _implies_ that you must pay me whatever my work is worth." how much would the law give him for his work? just what the employer was paying other men for the same kind of work. another class of contracts are called executed and executory. an executed contract is one that is finished, done, completed. if i should go into a store and ask the price of a book and say to the salesman, "i will take it," and give him the money, and take the book with me, this would be an executed contract. an executory contract is one that is to be completed. suppose the salesman did not have the book and i should say to him, "please get it for me and i will come in next week and pay you for it," this would be an executory contract; and it would remain so until i came in and got the book, as i had promised to do, and paid the price. these are the three most general classes of contracts made by persons in daily life. almost all persons make contracts of each kind during their lives. sealed contracts are not as common as unsealed ones, yet they are frequently made. every deed for the sale of land or lease for the use of it is a sealed contract. ii. the parties to a contract to every contract there must be two or more persons or parties. when robinson crusoe was on his island all alone, eating breadfruit and entertaining himself by throwing stones at the monkeys, he perhaps had a good time, but he could not make any contracts. but as soon as friday came along they could make contracts, trade, and cheat each other as much as they pleased. a contract, therefore, is one of the incidents of society. a person sailing in a balloon alone could not make a contract, but if two were in the basket they might amuse themselves by swapping jack-knives or neckties, and these exchanges would be completed or executed contracts and would possess, as we shall soon see, every element of a contract. again, persons must be able, or competent, to make contracts. what kind of ability or competency must a person have? not every person can make a contract, even though he may wish to do so. a minor, or person less than twenty-one years of age, though he may be very wise and weigh perhaps two hundred and fifty pounds, can make very few contracts which the law regards as binding. in fact, the only contracts that a minor can make for which he is bound are for necessaries--clothing, food, and shelter. nor can he make contracts even for these things in unlimited quantities. a minor could not go into a store and buy six overcoats and bind himself to pay for them. the storekeeper must have common sense in selling to him and keep within a reasonable limit. in one of the well-known cases a minor bought a dozen pairs of trousers, half a dozen hats, as many canes, besides a large supply of other things, and, refusing afterward to pay the bill, the merchant sued him, and the jury decided that he must pay. the case, however, was appealed to a higher court, which took a different view of his liability. the judge who wrote the opinion for the court said that the merchant must have known that the minor could not make any personal use of so many trousers, canes, and hats, and ought not to have sold him so many. in short, the court thought that the merchant himself was a young minor in intelligence and ought to have known better than to sell such a bill to a person under age. of course it is not always easy to answer this question, what are necessaries? much depends on the condition of the person who buys. a merchant would be safe in selling more to a minor living in an affluent condition of life than to another living in a much humbler way. quite recently the question has been considered whether a dentist's bill is a necessity, and the court decided that it was a proper thing for a minor to preserve his teeth and to this end use the arts of the dentist. again, is a bicycle a necessity? if one is using it daily in going to and from his work, surely it is a necessity. but if one is using it merely for pleasure a different rule would apply, and a minor could not be compelled to pay for it. cigars, liquors, theatre tickets are luxuries; so the courts have said on many occasions. the courts, in fact, regard a minor as hardly able to contract even for necessaries, and he is required to pay for them for the reason that as he needs them for his comfort and health he ought to pay for them. in other words, his duty or obligation to pay rests rather on the ground of an implied contract (which has been already explained) than of an express one. the force of this reasoning we shall immediately see. suppose a minor should say to a merchant who was unwilling to sell to minors,--having had, perhaps, sad experience in the way of not collecting bills of them,--"i am not a minor and so you can safely trust me. i wish to go into business and wish you would sell me some goods." suppose that, relying on his statement, the merchant should sell him hats or other merchandise for which he would afterward decline to pay, on the ground that he was a minor. suppose he proved that he really was one--could the merchant compel him to pay the bill? he could not compel him to fulfil his contract, because, as we have already said, the law does not permit a minor to make a contract except for necessaries. the court, then, would say to the merchant: "it is true that you sold the goods to this minor; he has indeed lied to you; still the court cannot regard a contract as existing between you and him." on the other hand, a court will not permit a person to defraud another, and the merchant could make the minor pay for the _deceit_ or _wrong_ that he had practised on him; and the measure of this wrong would be the value of the goods he had bought. thus the court would render justice to the merchant without admitting that the minor could make a legal contract for the goods that he had actually bought and taken away. iii. the parties to a contract (_continued_) in the former article we told our readers that there were some persons who could not make contracts, and among these were infants or minors. in most of the states a person, male or female, is a minor until he or she is twenty-one years old. in some of the states, among them illinois, a female ceases to be a minor at eighteen years of age. by the roman law a minor did not reach his majority until the end of his twenty-fourth year, and this rule has been adopted in france, spain, holland, and some parts of germany. the french law, though, has been changed, with one noteworthy exception. a woman cannot make a contract relating to her marriage without the consent of her parents until she is twenty-five. among the greeks and early romans women never passed beyond the period of minority, but were always subject to the guardianship of their parents until they were married. married women are another class of persons who cannot make every kind of a contract like a man. once a married woman had but very little power to make contracts. however great might have been her wealth before marriage, as soon as she entered into this blissful state the law kindly relieved her of all except her real estate, giving it to her husband. on the other hand, he was obliged to pay her bills, which was one of his great pleasures, especially if she was a constant traveller to the silk and diamond stores. she could still keep her real estate in her own name, but that was about all. her husband took everything else; he could claim her pocket-book, if he pleased, and was obliged to support her in sickness or health, in sweetness or in any other "ness." the law has been greatly changed in all civilised countries in this regard, and to-day in most states she can make almost any kind of a contract. in some states, however, it is even now said that she cannot agree to pay the debt of another, but this is, perhaps, the only limit on her power to contract. she can engage in business, buy and sell, transfer notes, make contracts relating to the sale and leasing of her real estate, insure it, build houses, and do a thousand other things quite as freely as if there were no husband around. the most of these changes widening her authority to make contracts have come within the last fifty years. of course, unmarried women can make contracts like men, and many of them know it. another class who cannot make contracts are drunken persons. once the law regarded a drunken man as fully responsible for his acts, and if he made a contract he was obliged to execute or fulfil it. he could not shield himself by saying he did not know what he was doing at the time. the court sternly frowned on him and said: "no matter what was your condition at the time of making it, you must carry it out." this was the penalty for his misdeed. it may be the courts thought that by requiring him to fulfil his contracts he would be more careful and restrain his appetite. whatever the courts may have thought, they have changed their opinions regarding his liability for his contracts made under such conditions. now they hold that he need not carry them out if he desires to escape from them. there is, however, one exception to this rule. if he has given a note in the ordinary form, and this has been taken by a third person in good faith who did not know of the maker's condition at the time of making it, he must pay. but, we repeat, the third person must act in good faith in taking it, for if he knew that the maker was drunk at that time he cannot require him to pay any more than the person to whom it was first given. one other class may be briefly mentioned--the insane. they are regarded in the law quite the same as minors. for their own protection the law does not hold them liable on any contracts except those for necessaries. these are binding for the same reasons as the contracts of minors, in order that they may be able to get such things as they need for their health and comfort. for if the law were otherwise, then, of course, merchants would be afraid to sell to them. but as merchants can now safely sell to them whatever they truly need in the way of clothing, food, etc., to make themselves comfortable, so, on the other hand, the insane, like minors, must pay for these things, and it is right that they should. iv. the consideration in contracts having explained who can make contracts, we are now ready to take another step. besides having parties, there must be a consideration for every contract. this is rather a long word, but no shorter can be found to put in its place. what do we mean by this term? we mean that there must be some actual gain or loss to one or both parties to a contract, otherwise it is not valid. if, for example, a should say to b, "i will give you $100 to-morrow," b, perhaps, might go away very happy, thinking that with this money he could buy a bicycle or some other fine thing; indeed, it was just the sum for which he was longing; so on the morrow he goes to a for his money. he promptly appears, but a says to him: "i have changed my mind, and will not give you the $100." b asks: "did you not promise to give me this money?" "certainly." "well, why will you not fulfil your promise?" a replies: "i was a fool when i made that promise; you are not going to give me anything for it, so i am unwilling to give the money to you." suppose b in his sorrow should go to a lawyer, thinking, perhaps, that he could compel a by some legal proceeding to pay over the money. what would the lawyer tell him? why, he would say: "did you promise to give a anything for the $100?" "no, sir." "then the law will not help you out. you cannot get the money from him by any legal method. perhaps you can get $100 worth of fun in licking him for not giving you the money, but you cannot get the cash. but, mind, perhaps you had better not try to get your fun in that way, for this is contrary to law, and he might get much more than $100 out of you in the way of damages for licking him." in every case, therefore, there must be _something for something_. now this something may be a thousand things. it may be money or merchandise or work. in short, there is no end of the things that may serve as a consideration of a contract. an example may be given to explain what is meant by this. a man had been speculating in stocks, and one of the rules of the stock board is that a margin or sum of money that is to be paid for stock must be paid in every case. it may be that an additional margin or sum must be paid under some circumstances. the speculator in this particular case was unwilling to pay this margin, and he said to the broker: "if you will do as i wish, and not put up this margin, i will save you from any loss that may result from such conduct." it was contrary to the rules of that stock exchange for the broker not to put up the margin, and the consequence was that he was put off the floor; in other words, the board would not permit him to act as a member. of course, as he could not buy and sell any more stock, he lost money; and he went to his customer, the speculator, and told him that he was losing money in consequence of carrying out his order about the margin. the speculator said he was sorry, but he could not help it. the broker then insisted that the speculator must make good his daily loss in consequence of doing as he had promised. this the speculator would not do. the broker then sued him for the amount of his loss. the speculator defended on the ground that there was no consideration for the agreement he had made with the broker about the margin. the court said that the loss which the broker had suffered in consequence of carrying out his contract with the speculator was a good consideration for the contract and must be made good. _when a contract is sealed the law implies that there is consideration_, and there need not be an actual one consisting of money, labour, or any other thing. this seems like an exception to the rule requiring a consideration in all cases, but the reason is this: when a sealed contract is made, the law supposes or assumes that each party made it, clearly knowing its nature--made it carefully, slowly, and, consequently, that either a consideration had been or would be given. if, therefore, one of the parties should refuse to fulfil it the other could sue him in a court of law. the person who sought to have it carried out would not be obliged to show that he had given any consideration on his part for the undertaking, because the seal appended to his name would imply that a consideration had been given. a deed for a piece of land is a good illustration of a sealed instrument. the law assumes whenever such a deed is given that the seller received a consideration for his land. the money paid was a consideration received by the seller, and the land was the consideration received by the buyer. each gives a consideration of some kind for the consideration received from the other; and this is true in all cases. v. the essentials of a contract in our last paper we told our readers that there must be a _consideration in every contract_. sometimes this is _illegal_, and when it is the effect is the same as would be the giving of _no consideration_. suppose a robber having stolen money from a bank should afterward offer to return a certain portion if he is assured that he will not be arrested and compelled to change the style of his clothing and his place of residence for a season. he cannot endure the thought of missing a game of football; and as for striped clothes, though very comfortable, perhaps, he is sure they would not be becoming. suppose this agreement to return a part should be put in writing, and after fulfilling it he should be sued by the bank for the remainder, and also prosecuted by the state for committing the theft. very naturally he would present the writing in court to show that he had been discharged from the crime and also from the payment of any more money. but this writing would not clear him either from prosecution for the criminal offence or from liability to return the rest of the money. the bank would say that although he had returned a part, this was not a proper consideration for its agreement not to sue him; it had no right to make such an agreement, and consequently it could sue the robber for the remainder of the money just as though no agreement had ever been made. another illustration may be given. suppose a person having made a bet and lost is unable to pay the money and gives his note for the amount. when the note becomes due the holder or owner sues him for the money. he defends, as he is unwilling to pay, by saying there was no legal consideration for the note. the money he promised to pay was only a wager, which the law regards as illegal. and this would be a good defence. if the consideration is partly legal and partly illegal and can be divided then there can be a _recovery of the legal part_. suppose a man owed another $1000 for borrowed money and also a wager for the same amount, and had given his note for $2000. when it became due if the owner sued him he could recover only the $1000 of borrowed money; this much and no more, for the reason that the consideration could be divided, the legal part from the illegal part. if no separation was possible then the note would be void and the owner could get nothing. a person cannot recover for a _voluntary service_ that he has rendered to another. a man would be very mean indeed who refused to pay another for any service rendered to him that was truly valuable; yet if he would not do so the man rendering the service could get nothing through the law. suppose that a person when walking along a road should see some cattle astray in a corn-field having a good time with a farmer's corn. he knows they are in the field for business and in a short time, unless driven out, will get the best of nature and down her efforts in corn-raising. in the kindness of his heart he jumps over the fence and succeeds in driving them away. suppose there happens to be among the number an unruly animal which is unwilling to leave such a tempting field of plunder and turns on him and gores him, and he is taken to a hospital. the farmer finds out who drove out the animals, and of his injury, but declines to give him any reward whatever. can the man recover anything? the law says not, because the service is purely voluntary. the question has often been asked whether a person who has made a contract to work for another and has broken it can recover for the worth of his service during the period he was employed. some courts have said that a person thus breaking his contract cannot afterward recover anything, because he does not come into court with clean hands. other courts have said that though he can recover nothing on the contract he has broken, he can nevertheless recover on a contract which the law implies in such a case for the worth of his service during the period of his employment. on the other hand, the employer can set off against his claim any injury that he may have sustained. suppose he could show that the service was of no worth to him; that he was injured rather than benefited by what he did; then the employé could get nothing. the courts have been inclined of late years to uphold an employé in recovering whatever his service was worth--not, however, as done by virtue of an express or actual contract with the employer. he cannot sue on that; in other words, he cannot take advantage of his own wrong to recover anything from his employer, but he may recover on the contract which the law implies, as we have explained, as much as his service was worth to his employer, and no more. another element in a contract is the meeting of minds of both parties. _both must understand the matter in the same sense._ for example, a person offered to sell another "good barley" for a stated price, and the other offered to buy "fine barley" at the price mentioned. there was no contract between these persons, because it was shown that "good barley" and "fine barley" were different things in the trade. this, therefore, is one of the essential elements of a contract--the meeting of the minds of the contracting parties. whether they have assented or not is a question of fact, to be found out like any other question of fact. sometimes offers are made on time, and when they are several interesting questions may arise. suppose a and b are negotiating for the sale and purchase of a piece of land. a says to b: "i will give you a week to think the matter over." soon after parting a meets c, to whom he mentions his offer to b. c says: "i will give you a great deal more for the land and pay you now." "very well," says a; "the land is yours." and he at once writes a letter to b saying that he has withdrawn his offer, as another person has offered him more for the land and that he has sold it to him. now b might be very much surprised by this letter. very likely he would think a was a hard man and perhaps a dishonest one. perhaps he would go to a lawyer and ask him if he could compel a to sell the land to him if he accepted his offer within the time mentioned and paid to him the money. the lawyer would tell him--if he understood his business--that a had a perfect right to withdraw his offer, even though it was made on time. this would probably be brand-new knowledge to b, but he would know what to do on the next occasion. is this true in all cases? it certainly is of all offers made in that manner. how, then, can a person who makes an offer to another on time be compelled to regard it? the way is simple enough. the person to whom the offer is made should give something--a consideration--to a, who makes the offer, for the delay. then he would be bound by it. but the courts would say to b, if nothing were given: "why should a's offer bind him so long as he is to get no compensation or consideration for it?" and we shall see again and again in these papers _this element of consideration is ever present, and must be to make transactions legal_. so with respect to an offer on time--if the person to whom it is made is really desirous of having it continue, in order to find out whether he can raise the money to pay, or for some reason, he can make the offer binding by giving to the offerer a consideration for the specified time, whatever that may be. vi. contracts by correspondence _a great many contracts are made by correspondence._ a person writes a letter to another offering to sell him merchandise at a stated price. the other replies saying that he will accept the offer. is a contract made at the time of writing his letter and putting it into the post-office, or not until it is received by the person who made the offer? the law in this country is that a contract is made between two persons in that way as soon as the answer is written and put into the post-office beyond the reach of the acceptor. the post-office usually is the agent of the person who uses it, but when a person sends an offer to another by mail the post-office is regarded a little differently. it is the agent of the person who sends the offer and also his agent in bringing back the reply. consequently, when this is put into the hands of the agent the law regards the offerer as bound by his offer. in like manner, if a creditor should send a letter to his debtor asking him to send a cheque for his debt and he should comply, the post-office would be the agent of the creditor in carrying that cheque, because he requested his debtor to use this means in sending his cheque to him. but when a request is not made and a debtor sends a cheque on his own account, the post-office is his agent for carrying it to his creditor. a person making an offer by letter can of course withdraw it through the telephone or telegraph if he likes at any time before the letter has been received by the other party. suppose the price of things is rising and a, finding that his goods are also advancing, should, after making an offer of some of them by letter, send a telegram stating what he had written and withdrawing his offer. this would be a proper thing for him to do. if, on the other hand, a's offer had been received by b before his withdrawal and accepted, then a would be bound by it. can b, after mailing his letter of acceptance and before it has been received by a, withdraw his acceptance? no, he cannot--for the reason above given, that the post-office is the agent of a, in carrying both his offer and b's reply. if this were not so, if the post-office were the agent of b in sending his reply, then of course it could be revoked or withdrawn at any time before it reached a. suppose a should send an offer and afterward a withdrawal and the withdrawal should be received first. notwithstanding this, however, if the person to whom the offer was sent should accept the offer, could he not bind a? one can readily see that all the proof would be in the possession of b, the acceptor. if he were a man without regard for his honour and insisted that he received the offer first, a might be unable to offer any proof to the contrary and fail to win his case should b sue him. but the principle of law is plain enough; the only difficulty is in its application. doubtless cases of this kind constantly happen in which the acceptor has taken advantage of the other to assent to an offer actually received after its withdrawal. suppose b should in fact receive a's offer first in consequence of the neglect of the telegraph company to deliver a's message of withdrawal promptly, which if delivered as it should have been would have reached b before the letter containing the offer, what then? a doubtless would be bound by his offer, but perhaps he could look to the telegraph company for any loss growing out of the affair. if he could show that he had been injured by fulfilling the contract the telegraph company might be obliged to pay this. let us carry the inquiry a little further. suppose the messenger on receiving the telegram took it to b's office and it was closed and he made diligent inquiry concerning b's whereabouts and was unable to find him. suppose he had gone off to a horse race or to a football game, would it be the duty of the messenger boy to hunt him up at one of these places? by no means. if b was not at his place of business when he ought to have been, the company would not be bound to deliver the message to him elsewhere, except at his house, unless he had left a special direction with the company concerning its delivery. generally a telegraph company states very clearly its mode of delivering messages and the time when it will do so, the place, etc., to which it will take them, and it is not obliged to hunt all over creation to find the person to whom a message is addressed. that would be a very unreasonable rule to apply. therefore, if the company did its duty a could not recover anything from it. would a, then, it may be asked, be obliged to fulfil his contract with b? he has sent his withdrawal, which if delivered in time would have been received by b before the letter containing the offer. b, however, is away from his place of business, and perhaps is where he ought not to be--perhaps he is playing poker or doing something worse--ought a under such circumstances to be held by his offer? this is a closer question and one that we will leave our readers to think over. surely a would have a strong reason for claiming that he ought not to be held under such conditions. a person who makes an offer cannot turn it into an acceptance. an old uncle offered by letter to buy his nephew's horse for $100, adding: "if i hear no more about the matter i consider the horse as mine." the uncle, not hearing from the nephew, proceeded to take the horse. at this stage of the proceedings, however, the nephew was not inclined to suffer his good old uncle to make the contract entirely himself, and refused to give up the horse. the court said that one person could not do all the contracting himself, and this is what he virtually undertook to do. if a person could, by correspondence or otherwise, make a contract in this manner, one can readily see the dangers that might follow. some positive act must be put forth by the other party showing or indicating his assent before it will be regarded as given. a person, in truth, is not obliged to pay any attention to an offer of this kind. rewards are often made. they are found almost every day among the newspaper advertisements. these are binding under various conditions. an interesting question has been raised in the case of a runaway horse whose owner has made an offer to any finder who returns him. suppose a person at the time of catching the animal did not know of the reward but does know of it when returning the beast to his owner; can he claim the reward? this question has somewhat puzzled the judges, but the more recent opinion is that the catcher can claim the reward like a person who knew at the time of stopping the pleasure of the runaway. of course, there is no question concerning these rewards when they are known at the time of acting on them. in one of the cases tried not long since, an old farmer offered a reward of $15 to any one who would find the person who had stolen his harness and also $100 to the man who would prosecute the thief. the harness, in truth, was worth not even this small sum and the thief still less. yet he was caught and prosecuted, and then the prosecutor and finder claimed the rewards. the farmer's excitement had cooled off by this time and he was not so loud and liberal as he was at the time of finding out his loss. he refused to pay, saying that he did not really mean to offer these sums as rewards, and the court decided in his favour, declaring that his offer of reward could not be regarded strictly as one, but rather "as an explosion of wrath." in another case a man's house was burning up and his wife was inside, and he offered any one $5000 who would go in and bring her out--"dead or alive." a brave fellow went in and rescued her. then he claimed the reward. was the man who made the offer obliged to pay, and could he not have escaped by insisting that this was simply "an explosion of affection" and not strictly an offer or promise of reward? he tried to hold on to his money, but the court held that this was an offer he must pay. possibly after the recovery of his wife his valuation of her had changed somewhat from what it was while his house was burning up. one or two more cases may be given. some persons who prepared "carbolic-smoke balls" offered to pay £100 to any person who contracted influenza after having used one of the balls in the manner clearly set forth and for a stated period. this offer was in the form of a newspaper advertisement. a person bought one of them and followed carefully all the directions about its use. the influenza, though, did not disappear as advertised, so he sued to recover the offer; and, having proved clearly that he had complied faithfully with the directions and had not been cured, the court said that the owners must pay up and compelled them to give him the £100 offered. another case may be briefly mentioned. a offered to sell b his farm for $1000. b offered $950, which offer was declined. then b offered to pay $1000. by that time a had changed his mind and declined to accept b's offer. then b sued to get the farm, offering to pay the money; but the court held that b had declined a's offer and consequently that, as a had not made any other offer, there was no contract. finally, it may be added that the phrase "by return mail" does not always mean by the next mail, although the person to whom the offer is made cannot delay his answer long. on the other hand, the person to whom such a letter may be addressed can bind the other by an acceptance very quickly after the receipt of the offer, although not literally by the first mail going out. vii. what contracts must be in writing _some contracts must be in writing to be valid_; for instance, contracts relating to the sale and leasing of lands. this writing must be signed by the person who is charged with having made it. suppose that a has sold his farm to b for an agreed sum and refuses to give him a deed on his payment of the amount or offer to pay, and b wishes to compel a to carry out or execute his agreement. b must show a writing signed by a to that effect, otherwise the court will not pay any attention to the matter. on the other hand, if a claims that such an agreement has been made with b, who is unwilling to pay the money and receive the deed, he must show in court a writing signed by b that he has agreed to purchase the farm at a stated price and to receive a deed of the same. if such a writing is not forthcoming when required, he cannot recover anything from him. this is the meaning of the phrase, therefore, that a writing must be signed by the party charged with having made the agreement. _the writing need not be very formal._ it need not specify the amount that is to be paid; in other words, it need not specify the consideration. some courts say, however, that it must contain this fact or statement. it may be in pencil. i presume it would be sufficient if written on a blackboard with chalk. but it must be a writing of some kind signed by the party to be charged; that is the essential thing. the courts have also said that this writing need not be on a single piece of paper. if the two parties have made an agreement by a series of letters, an offer on the one side and an acceptance on the other, and the agreement can be fully shown from the series of letters, this is sufficient writing. if a man buys a farm and pays a part of the price and goes away saying that he will pay the remainder within a week, expecting then to do so and receive a deed, the seller, if he chooses, can escape giving that deed and parting with his farm. the payment of a part of the money does not bind the bargain, nor will the courts, though knowing this, compel the seller to give such a deed. the reader may ask, if this is the law, cannot the farmer practise a fraud on the buyer by receiving his money and keeping it and the farm too? he cannot do both things. if he refuses to give the deed he must, on the other hand, return the money; if he refuses to do this the buyer can compel him by a proper legal proceeding to refund the amount. in this way the buyer gets his money back again, but not the farm that he bought. it is said that this statute is as often used as a shield to protect men in doing wrong as in preventing frauds. in numberless cases persons, just like the farmer imagined, have used this statute as a means to protect them in not carrying out their agreements. this happens every day. this statute also relates to other matters. one clause says that an executor or administrator cannot be required to pay anything at all out of his own pocket on any promise that he has made unless it be in writing. every one knows about the duties of an executor or administrator. an executor is one who settles the estate of a person who has died leaving a will directing what shall be done with his wealth. an administrator is a person who settles the estate of a deceased person leaving no will. he is appointed by the law, which fully states his duties. let us suppose that an executor is employed to settle an estate, and that he employs a carpenter to make some repairs on a house belonging to the estate. the contract is fairly enough made between the carpenter and the executor. let us also suppose that he has no lien on the house for the work that he has done, or that he has lost his lien by reason of not having filed it in time, as the law requires. afterward he goes to the executor and demands payment for the repairs that he has made. let us suppose that the estate is insolvent and cannot pay all of its debts in full. at the time of making this contract neither party supposed this would happen. but, unhappily, debts have come to light so large and numerous that there is not property enough to pay all the creditors everything that is due them. the executor says to the carpenter: "there is not property enough to pay all of the creditors and you, unfortunately, must fare like all of the rest, and you cannot be paid a larger percentage on your share than the others." to the carpenter this would be unwelcome news, and he would doubtless say to the executor: "i made this contract with you expecting that you would pay me, and if the property of the estate is not sufficient you ought to pay me this. i am a poor man and cannot afford to lose any of my hard-earned money." the executor might say to him: "i am as poor as you and i cannot afford to pay you out of my own pocket, and in law you cannot compel me to do this." and, in truth, the carpenter could not do this unless the executor had made a contract in writing, agreeing in any event to pay whether there was money enough belonging to the estate or not. another clause says that _a person cannot be required to pay the debt of another unless the agreement is in writing_. if a went into a store to buy goods and b should be a little afraid to trust him, and c, a friend of a's, should happen to be present and say to the merchant, "let a have these goods and if he does not pay you i will," this would be the promise to pay the debt of another; and if a should not pay it c could shield himself behind this statute and escape without paying anything. there is another clause relating to the sale of ordinary merchandise. the law says that _contracts for ordinary merchandise must be in writing if the amount is over_ $50. in some states the amount is $35. long ago it was decided that this statute did not relate to contracts for work, and they therefore must be carried out or fulfilled in the same manner as though no statute existed, _for work is not merchandise_. viii. contracts for the sale of merchandise to make a contract of sale there must be, as we have seen, two or more parties, and a consideration must also be given. the sale is complete when the _property_, or _title_, or _ownership_ in the thing bought passes from the seller to the buyer. it is not necessary in order to make a valid sale to deliver the thing bought. if the _title_ or _ownership_ in the thing is not transferred, the sale still remains incomplete. the law supposes or assumes that a person will always pay for a thing purchased. if i should go into a store, inquire the price of a book, and, after learning the price, should say to the salesman, "i will take the book," and he should wrap it up and give it to me and i should then walk out with the book under my arm, he doubtless would come to me and say in his politest manner: "why, sir, you have forgotten to pay me for it." suppose i should say: "oh, yes; but i will come in to-morrow and pay." but if i happened to be a stranger, and especially if there was a suspicious look about me, and he should say they did not give credit in that store, and i was still inclined to walk out with my book, he could insist that there had been no sale and that i must give the book to him. the law would protect him in taking it from me if he did not use undue force. the law assumes, unless some different rule exists, that the buyer will always pay for the thing purchased, yet in law there is no sale unless the purchase money is actually paid. of course, credit may be given in a store--that may be the practice; and if it is understood between buyer and seller that credit is to be given, then a sale is complete as soon as the bargain is struck. indeed, so complete is the sale that if the buyer should say to the salesman, "i will leave this here and return and take it in a short time," and during his absence the store should be burned up and everything perish, the buyer would be obliged to pay for the book. in other words, after it had been sold, if still kept there the seller would be merely the keeper, or bailee, which is the legal term, and he would be obliged to use only ordinary care in keeping it. suppose a thief should come in and take it away--would the seller be responsible for the loss? not if he had used the same care in protecting it as in protecting his own property. another illustration may be used to bring out the nature of a sale more clearly. suppose i have bought a particular work in a store, either paying cash or buying it on credit, if that be the practice of the store, and i should say to the salesman: "i am going down street and on my return will call and take the book." during my absence i meet a friend and tell him of my purchase, and he should say to me: "i am very desirous to get that work; i am sure there is no other copy in town. will you not sell it to me?" suppose i gave him an order, directed to the seller, requesting him to deliver the work to the person to whom i have sold it. if he should take the order to the store he could claim the book as his own and the original seller would be obliged to give it to him. _it is very important_, however, in many cases _to make a delivery of the thing sold_. as we have already stated, the title as between the buyer and seller is actually changed or transferred at the time of making the sale and it is therefore complete. but if a delivery of the thing sold is not actually made and another person should come along and wish to buy it, and the seller should prove to be, as he sometimes is, deceitfully wicked, and should sell and deliver it to him, the second buyer would get a good title and could hold it just as securely as though it had not been previously sold to another. of course, the second buyer must be an innocent person, knowing nothing about the first or prior sale. if he did not know and pays the money for the thing he has bought and takes it away, he gets a perfectly good title as against the first buyer. if he was not innocent the first buyer could claim it and the second one would lose his money unless he was able to get it back again from the seller. of course, such a transaction is a fraud on the part of the seller. therefore it is safer in all ordinary transactions for the buyer to take the thing he has purchased unless he is sure that the seller is a perfectly honest man, who will not practise any such fraud upon him. suppose the seller had things in his keeping that had been sold but not taken away, and should fail in business, or that persons to whom he owed money should sue him and try to hold not only all of the goods still owned by him but even those which he had sold. could they succeed as against a person who had bought them in perfectly good faith? it is said that the buyer in such cases can get his goods after clearly showing that he had bought them and paid for them; but the evidence of his purchase must be perfectly clear, otherwise the court will not permit him to take them away and he will lose them. if a merchant is to deliver a thing as a part of the contract of sale, then, of course, he must do this; otherwise he is liable for his failure to carry out his contract. this rule applies to most purchases that are made in stores. the merchant intends to deliver the thing sold, the buyer purchases expecting this will be done, and the price paid for them is enough to cover the cost of taking them to the buyer's house; in other words, the price of the goods, whatever it may be, is intended to be enough to pay the merchant for his cost in delivering them, and in such cases the contract is not complete until a delivery has actually taken place. again, if the thing purchased is a part of a mass of goods, a separation must be made to complete the contract. if a man should buy 100 barrels of oil which were a part of 1000 barrels, a separation of some kind must be made of the particular ones sold. if one should buy trees in a nursery, to make the contract complete the particular trees must in some way be known, either by rows or every other tree--in short, in some way the trees must be clearly set apart. if part of a mass of timber is bought, the particular logs must be marked or in some way pointed out from the other part of the mass. this rule applies to all things bought that form a part of a large mass. the mode of pointing them out depends on the nature of the thing; a different kind of separation must be made in some cases from what is necessary in others. ix. the warranties of merchandise the rule of law in buying is, _the buyer must look out for himself_; and if things are not what he supposed they were he has no rightful claim against the seller. the maxim of the law is, "_let the purchaser beware_"--let him take care of himself. the rule of the roman law was different. it was the duty of the seller to tell the buyer of all the defects known by him in the thing sold, and if he did not he was responsible for any loss caused by any defect or imperfection found after purchasing that was known by the seller before. the modern principle may be looked at from two points of view. first, _the seller need not make known any defects which the buyer can find out himself_. suppose a man is thinking of buying a horse that is (though he does not know it) blind in one eye. the law says that the buyer ought to be able to see such a defect quite as readily as the seller, and if he does not the fault is his own. blindness in one eye is quite as easily seen as would be the lack of an ear or tail. and this principle applies very generally in all purchases. it covers all visible defects. nor can any one find much fault with this rule, because the buyer generally has as good eyesight as the seller, and if he takes pains, as he should, he is able to discover all ordinary defects. furthermore, the buyer doubtless often knows quite as much about the things he purchases as the seller. but the courts also say that it applies to other defects. suppose a horse has the heaves or the rheumatism, which is known to the seller but of which the buyer has no knowledge whatever. the seller is not obliged to make known this defect to the buyer, and if he is silly enough to purchase on his own wisdom he must abide by the consequences. if he does inquire and is deceived, that is another thing. but if he asks no questions, or the seller does not deceive him in any way, the seller is not responsible for defects known by him at the time of the sale. this also is a well-understood rule. _the seller_, we repeat, _must not deceive the buyer_. in one of the well-known cases a man owned a ship that he was desirous of selling. she was unsound in several places and the seller put her in such a position that her defects could not be readily found out. he did this for the purpose of deceiving the buyer and succeeded. when the buyer learned how he had been tricked he began a legal proceeding to get back a part of the money that he had paid, and won his case. and rightfully, too, for the reason that the seller had deceived him, which he had no right to do. another case may be stated of a man who was desirous of purchasing a picture, supposing that it was once in the collection of an eminent man. the seller knew perfectly well that the picture did not come from that collection and that the buyer was acting under a delusion. he did not say that the picture had belonged to the collection or had not; he was silent, although he knew that the buyer would not purchase it if he knew the truth about its former ownership. for some reason or other the buyer did not make any inquiry of the seller, or if he did was not told. but after purchasing the picture the buyer learned that he was mistaken and that the seller knew this at the time of making the sale. he sought to recover the money he had paid and succeeded, the court saying that a fraud had been practised upon him; that it was the duty of the seller, knowing what was passing in the mind of the buyer, to have told him the truth about the former ownership of the picture. it will be seen, therefore, that _the seller must not deceive the buyer in any way or practise any fraud on him_; if he does he will be responsible for the loss or injury befalling the other. what, then, ought a buyer to do in purchasing a horse, for example, in order to guard himself against the unwelcome discovery of disease or other defect? clearly, _he ought to require the seller to give him a warranty_. a proper way is, if the transaction be an important one, to have the warranty in writing and signed by the seller. it need not be very long; a few words usually are enough. there is a very important difference that every one ought to understand between words that are spoken at a sale, which are mere representations, and words that form a warranty of the thing sold. if i should go into a store to buy a piece of flannel, and ask the salesman if it was all wool, and he should assure me that it was, and i, ignorant of the quality of the material, and desirous of buying a piece of all-wool flannel, should say to him: "i know nothing about it; i rely entirely on your statement," and he should say: "it is all right; all wool, and no cotton," his words would be a warranty, and if the flannel proved to be made partly of straw or cotton, or something besides wool, i could sue the seller on his warranty, and recover for the loss i had suffered, whatever that might be. but suppose i were a flannel manufacturer myself, and knew at the time he was saying this to me that the flannel was partly cotton; in short, knew a great deal more about it than he did, and was not deceived in any way by what he said, his words would not be a warranty, because my action in buying the flannel would not be influenced by them. what test, then, is to be applied? evidently whether or not the buyer acts on the words spoken and is deceived by them. if, relying on them, he buys and is deceived or misled to his loss or injury, then the words will be taken as a warranty and protect the buyer. if, on the other hand, he is not deceived by what is told him, and he buys on his own knowledge and judgment, then the words are not a warranty. one or two other points may be briefly noticed. the law says that _the seller always warrants the title to the thing sold_--in other words, that he is the owner. he may not say one word about the matter, but the law implies that he is the owner and would not sell a thing that did not belong to him. if he should prove not to be the owner, the buyer could recover for his loss. _another point about adulterations._ the common law does not regard an article as adulterated, giving the buyer the right to claim something back, unless it has been materially changed by the foreign substance. all, or nearly all, of the states have made statutes within recent years, or re-enacted old ones, holding sellers strictly responsible for the quality, especially of provisions, sold. these statutes generally require the seller to sell absolutely pure articles, and he cannot shield himself by saying that he was ignorant and innocent of their nature if they proved to be other than pure articles. if a grocer should sell cotton-seed oil for olive oil, even though doing so ignorantly, without any intention to deceive, he would nevertheless be held liable under the statutes that now exist in most of the states; and public opinion strongly favours the strict execution of these statutes. x. common carriers _what is meant by a common carrier?_ a person or company that is obliged to carry merchandise or passengers for a price or compensation from place to place. a common carrier cannot select his business, like a private carrier, but _must_ carry all merchandise that is offered; or, if he is a carrier of persons, all persons who desire to go and are willing to respect all reasonable regulations that relate to carrying them. _the principal common carriers are railroads, steamboats, and canal companies._ the liability of common carriers is very important to all who travel or send merchandise. a common carrier is liable for all losses not happening by the act of god or by the public enemy. by "act of god" is meant unavoidable calamity, such as lightning and tempests, and by "public enemy" is meant a nation at war with another. once these were the only exceptions. carriers were therefore insurers of the goods left with them to be carried to some other place. this early rule of law fixing their liability has been greatly changed. carriers can now make a contract relieving themselves of all liability for losses in carrying goods except those arising from their own negligence. the courts in a few cases have said that they can relieve themselves even from this, but this is not generally the law. they can, though, by special contract relieve themselves from all other liability. a railroad company, therefore, can make a contract for carrying wheat from chicago to new york, relieving itself from all liability for loss by fire unless this shall be caused by its negligence. if a fire should occur without any negligence on the part of the company and goods on the way should be destroyed, it could not be held responsible for the loss if there was such a contract between the shipper and carrier. _a carrier is no longer an insurer for the safe carrying of goods._ the courts have permitted carriers to thus lessen their liability because they are willing to take goods at lower prices than they would if they were to be responsible for all losses. they now virtually say to the shippers: "if you are willing to be your own insurers, or insure in insurance companies, and hold us for no losses except those arising from our own negligence, we are willing to carry your goods at a much lower rate." and, as shippers are willing to take the risks themselves for the sake of getting lower rates, the practice has become universal for lessening the liability of carriers in the manner described. suppose that goods are burned up by fire. the shipper must be the loser unless he can show that it was caused by the negligence of the carrier. as he often can show this, he imagines that the carrier is still living under the old law and is liable as he was in the early days of railroad and steamboat companies. in truth, this is not so. his liability is measured by his contract, and there can be no recovery for any loss unless negligence on the carrier's part is clearly shown, and in many cases this is not easily done. though common or public carriers are obliged to take and transport almost everything, _they may make reasonable regulations about the packing, etc., of merchandise_. suppose a shipper were to come to a railroad company's clerk with a quantity of glass not in boxes, and should say to him, "i wish this glass to be carried to new york"; and the clerk should say to him that the rules of the company required all glass to be packed in boxes lined with straw, and that the rule could not be set aside, however short might be the distance. very likely the shipper would say to the agent: "this is expensive; i wish you to take it as it is." and if he should say to the agent that he was willing to run the risk of breakage, then, perhaps, the clerk might take it in; yet, even on those terms, some carriers would not. at all events, if the clerk should insist on following the rules, the shipper could not justly complain, for this rule is a very reasonable one, as the courts have many times declared. suppose a shipper should ask a carrier to take a load of potatoes or apples to montreal in very cold weather. the carrier says to him: "there is danger of the apples being frozen. i am unwilling to carry them unless you will take the risk of their freezing." he could insist on these terms, because it would be unreasonable to require carriers to transport such merchandise and keep their cars heated. they are not made in that way and every shipper knows it, nor are carriers required to heat them. the courts have said that any reasonable regulations respecting the merchandise to be carried, the packing, etc., must be respected. a carrier could refuse positively to carry dynamite or powder unless it was packed in a very careful manner. doubtless many things are carried in ways quite contrary to the regulations, without the knowledge of the carrying companies. packages are rarely examined and things may be put within, out of sight, of which carriers know nothing. a carrier is not required to have cars enough to carry all goods on unusual occasions. but it must have enough to carry without delay all that come from day to day. xi. the carrying of passengers millions ride on steamboats, in the street-cars, and by steam-railways, and the question is an important one with them. _what are the rights and duties of company and passenger? first, it is the duty of a company carrying passengers to provide every one with a seat._ this rule does not apply to street-cars but it does to steam-railways. in some cases it is said of the street-car passengers that those who use the straps pay the money from which dividends are paid. but the rule is otherwise that applies to railway companies. they must furnish seats for their passengers and cannot demand fares until seats are secured. having taken him on board and seated him, what degree of care must the company use in carrying the passenger? it may seem strange to say that the company is not obliged to use as much care as in carrying a barrel of apples or an animal. goods must be moved, kept dry, perhaps, and cared for in other ways. an animal must be fed. in carrying cattle stops must be made for rest. but the passenger takes care of himself. he gets in and out and provides his own rations. therefore the law puts on the carrier the duty of using only a reasonable degree of care in taking him from place to place. in other words, the railway is not an insurer of life, as it is of goods or other merchandise. as passengers are of themselves able to get around and use some care with respect to their own movements, the law lessens the responsibility. perhaps the reader would like to know _what the company must do in carrying a passenger's baggage_. this is a very practical question. if he takes his grip in the seat with him, he alone is responsible for its safety. if some one should get in the seat beside him and in going out should take the grip along with him, the owner could not ask the company to make good his loss. on the other hand, if he delivers his grip to the company, then the company is bound by the same rule as when carrying other goods and merchandise. the price paid for his ticket is also enough to pay the cost of carrying his trunk or other baggage, therefore the carrier cannot escape paying for its loss when having possession of it on the ground that the service is purely voluntary and without compensation. as the company gets compensation it must pay for any loss while taking baggage from one place to another unless the loss or damage should be due to no fault or negligence of the company. every now and then we receive a cheque for a trunk or other piece of baggage stating that in the event of loss the company will not be responsible beyond a certain amount--$50, or $100, or other sum. is that statement on the cheque worth anything? the courts have held that if one of these cheques is taken by a passenger and he reads it he is bound thereby. this is a contract between carrier and passenger, consequently he is bound by the figures mentioned under ordinary circumstances. this rule is just and is based on a good reason. as every one knows, whenever a trunk is lost it is very difficult for the carrier to get any proof of the real value of its contents. all the evidence is in the hands of the passenger. if he is without a conscience and apparently proves that the things in it were worth $200 or $300, he may succeed in getting this much, although it might have been full of shavings. it is because of much experience of this kind that carriers have tried to limit the amount for which they will be responsible, and so long as they do this in a fair, open way the law regards their conduct with favour. if, however, a passenger receives such a cheque and at once puts it in his pocket and does not know its true nature, then the courts have held that he was not bound by any limit of this kind. again, a person has no business to put diamonds and rubies and jewellery and the like in his trunk. if he does and they are lost, he cannot compel the carrier to pay for them. the courts have said that passengers have no right to put such things in their trunks expecting to make carriers pay for them when they are lost. if there are things of unusual value in a trunk, the carrier should be informed or else the owner should assume the risk. one word more. an express company is a common carrier and is bound by the same rules as other carriers except so far as such rules may be changed by definite contract. when a definite contract is made, then the rules of ordinary carriers do not apply. xii. on the keeping of things there are some principles of every-day importance relating to the keeping of things. in our last lecture was mentioned the carriage of merchandise by common carriers. they not only carry merchandise--they also keep it. when merchandise reaches its destination and shippers have had a reasonable time to take it away, but neglect to do so, a common carrier is no longer liable for its safe keeping as a common carrier but only as a warehouseman. what do we mean by this? as we have seen, a common carrier, unless he makes a special contract for carrying the merchandise, is liable for everything lost or injured except "by the act of god or the public enemy"; or, as we have already said, he is an insurer for safely taking and keeping the merchandise while it is in his charge. when the merchandise has reached the final station, and the person to whom it is shipped or sent has had ample time to take it away and does not do so, the carrier still keeps the merchandise in his warehouse or depot, but he is no longer liable as a carrier for keeping it but simply as a warehouseman. in other words, if goods are kept by him for this longer period, he is liable for their loss only in the event of gross negligence on his part. if a fire should break out and the goods be burned, unless it happened by his own gross negligence, he would not be liable for the loss. so, too, if a thief should break into his warehouse and steal the goods, he would not be liable for the theft unless it was shown that he was grossly negligent in not providing a safer building. if the rats and mice should destroy the goods while they were in the common carrier's building, the same rule would apply; or if they were injured or destroyed in any other manner, he would not be responsible for the loss unless gross negligence was shown. different rules apply, depending on whether the keeper, or bailee, gets any compensation for storage. in our lecture relating to sales we stated that the seller would not be liable for the loss of anything intrusted to his keeping after it had been bought of him unless he was grossly negligent, for the reason that no reward or compensation is paid to him for storage. there are, therefore, two rules which govern many cases. if a person keeps a thing for a reward or compensation, then he is bound by a stricter rule of diligence than in those cases in which he receives nothing for his service. this accords with the common reason of mankind. evidently if a person keeps a thing simply as an act of kindness, he ought not to be responsible in the same sense that one is held responsible who is paid a fixed price for such service. another good illustration is that of a bank which keeps the bonds of a depositor in its safe for his accommodation. the bank does not pretend to be a safe-deposit company or anything of the kind, but it has a large vault and wishes to accommodate its customers by keeping their stocks and bonds and other articles for them while they are off on vacations or for other reasons. it is a common thing for a customer to go to his bank, especially in the country, and ask the cashier to keep his valuables during his absence. the cashier is willing to comply, and the things are intrusted to him; but as the bank receives no compensation for this service it is not responsible for their loss unless it is grossly negligent in the matter. suppose they are put in the safe among other valuables belonging to the bank and a robber breaks in and takes them away--is the bank responsible? certainly not. on the other hand, if the customer should leave his valuables at a safe-deposit company, a different rule would apply, because that company charges him for keeping the articles. it is therefore bound by a stricter rule than the bank. it must use the greatest care, and if neglectful in any respect it is responsible for the consequences. suppose a person should say to me: "will you be good enough to leave this package with a jeweller on your way down street?" i say to my friend: "certainly, with the greatest pleasure." what degree of care must i use in carrying that package? only ordinary care. suppose in going along the street a thief, without my knowledge, should walk beside me and slip his hand into my pocket and take the package, and on my arrival at the jewellery store i should find that it was gone. should i be responsible for the loss? certainly not, because i had neither received nor expected to receive any reward for taking the package to the store. of course, if it could be shown that i was unnecessarily negligent in carrying the parcel, the owner might be justified in claiming damages. one thing more may be added. if a bailee should be a scoundrel and sell the thing left with him for safe-keeping and receive the money, the true owner could, nevertheless, claim the thing wherever he could find it. the owner would not get a good title. this rule of law applies to everything except negotiable paper. a person who buys that in good faith, honestly, not knowing that it was stolen, and pays money, gets a good title. _this is the only exception to the above rule in the law._ xiii. concerning agents very many persons act as agents for others. much of the business of modern times is carried on by persons of this class. all the managers of corporations are agents of the railways, banks, manufacturing companies, and the like. they are to be seen everywhere. every salesman is an agent. in short, _the larger part of the modern commerce of the world is done by agents_. agents are of two kinds, special and general; and there are important differences between the two. a general agent is a person who transacts all the business of the person hiring or appointing him, called a principal, or all his business of a particular kind. a principal might have several general agents for the different kinds of business in which he was engaged. suppose he has a cotton-factory and a store and a farm; he might have three general agents, each managing one of these enterprises. a general agent may be appointed in different ways. this may be done by a written contract. very often, however, no such contract is made, and the person comes to act in a different way. a cashier of a bank, for example, is a general agent to transact its business, but the mode of appointing him rarely consists of anything more than a resolution of the board of directors. more often than otherwise his appointment is purely verbal, by word of mouth. and, again, the authority of an agent thus to act is often found out by his acts, known and approved by his principal, or in other ways. suppose that a should manage b's store for him, buying and selling merchandise with a's knowledge; by thus putting him before the world as b's agent the law would say that he really was so, and b would be bound by his acts within a limit soon to be explained. this, perhaps, is the more common way in which the world learns of the authority of an agent's act. he does a great variety of things which it is well known must be within the knowledge of his principal or employer and, as they are known by the employer and the employer says nothing in the way of disowning or repudiating these acts, he is bound by them. sometimes, indeed, persons pretend to be agents for others when really they have no authority to act. when this is done, and the person for whom they are pretending to act finds out what they are doing, then it is his immediate duty to take such action as the circumstances require to disown the acts of such pretenders. if this is not done he may be bound by them. his action in adopting or approving is called the ratifying of an agent's act; and when this is done the agent's action is just as valid as though authority had been given to him to act in the beginning. the principal's conduct in thus ratifying an agent's acts relates back to the time when the agent first began to act. a special agent is appointed to do a particular thing and this is more often done in writing. perhaps the most common illustration is the appointment of some one to act for another at the annual meeting of a corporation to vote on stock. such a person is called a proxy, and persons often act as through another in this manner. sometimes one person serves as a proxy or agent for a very large number of shareholders. the liability of a principal for the acts of a general agent are very different from his liability for the acts of a special agent. in the former case the principal is said to be responsible for all the acts of his agent that are within the general scope of his business. in other words, if it is generally known that a is acting as the general agent of b in conducting his business,--we will say managing his cotton-factory,--a will bind his principal b for everything done by him as general agent in conducting that business. suppose a was acting as a general agent of an insurance company and, among other things, was told by the president or board of directors of the company not to insure property in a given place below a stated rate. suppose a person should go to this agent, desiring to have his property insured, but at a lower rate, and suppose that the agent should finally yield and make a lower rate as requested. could his company repudiate the contract? clearly not, for it was a's duty to make contracts for insuring properties. if the insured knew that the agent had been expressly limited in the rates for insuring and that he was going contrary to his instructions in making the lower rate, then, indeed, the company would not be bound by the contract. otherwise it could not repudiate the act, for it would fall within the general principle that a principal is bound by the acts of his agent done within the general scope of his business or employment; and such a contract clearly would be within the limit. for, indeed, this is the very business of the agent--to effect insurance. the only thing necessary, therefore, for a person doing business with a general agent is to find out whether he is such an agent; and when this is learned then a person can safely transact business with him, doing anything within the general scope of his powers, unless the person actually knows that some limit or restriction has been put upon the agent. it is not his duty to find out what the powers of a general agent are, but simply whether he is a general agent or not. but the rule is very different that applies to the liability of a principal who employs a special agent. in such cases it is the duty of the person doing business with him to inquire what his powers are, for the principal will not be bound beyond these. such an inquiry, therefore, must be made. he must ask the agent to show the authority under which he is appointed, or in some way clearly convince the other what his powers are before any business can be safely done. the authority of a special agent is often stated in writing, and the paper is called a power of attorney. _in selling land an agent should always have such a power_, because a good title to land can only be given in writing, and this power of attorney should be copied in the records kept for this purpose with the deed itself to show by what authority the agent acted in selling the land. every now and then when a person buys a piece of land and examines the title to find out whether it is perfect or not, he discovers that somewhere in the chain of title a deed was made by the agent of the seller instead of the seller himself, and the buyer had forgotten to put the power of attorney on record with his deed. the omission to do this is often serious. it is in truth just as important for an agent to have a proper power of attorney in such a case as to give a proper deed for his principal, and the one paper should be recorded quite as much as the other, as both are parts of the same story. _sometimes an agent appoints a subagent._ this may be orally or in writing. a good illustration is that of the collection of a cheque deposited with a bank. suppose a cheque is deposited in a bank in chicago drawn on a bank in newark, n. j. the chicago bank is, in the first instance, the agent for collecting it. the bank would send the cheque to another in new york, which would be its subagent, and that bank in turn would send it to a third bank in newark, which would be a subagent of the new york bank. thus there would be two subagents, besides the agent, employed in collecting the cheque. there is an important question relating to the liability of one of these agents or subagents in the event of the negligent performance of the duty; which is responsible? generally, it is said, if the general agent appoints a subagent he is nevertheless responsible for his act. suppose a street contractor employs a subagent to repair a street and he digs a hole and improperly guards it and some one falls into the place and is injured, can the person thus injured look to the contractor or to the subcontractor for compensation for his injury? the contractor is liable in such cases. it may be added, however, that although he is liable to the person injured, he may be able to recover of the subcontractor or subagent. but this rule does not apply to the banks in every state. in some of them the first bank in which the cheque was deposited is liable for the negligence of others that may be afterward employed in collecting it, and this rule prevails in the federal courts. in a larger number of states the first bank fully performs its duty in selecting a proper or reputable agent, and in sending the cheque to it for collection. should the second or subagent be neglectful, the depositor of the cheque could compel that agent, and not the first, to make its loss good. xiv. the law relating to bank cheques a cheque has come to be one of the most common of all writings. almost everybody receives more or less of them. there are some principles that ought to be understood by every holder or receiver of a cheque which, we fear, are not as well known as they should be. _first of all, a person ought to present his cheque for payment soon after receiving it._ some people are quite negligent in this matter and carry cheques around in their pocket-books for several days before presenting them for payment. it may not be convenient to take them to a bank, and so they are carried around; perhaps their owners forget they have them. they ought not to do so, for the reason that the maker of a cheque really says to the holder: "this is an order that i give to you on my bank for the money mentioned. if you go at once you can get payment, but i do not promise to keep it there always for you--only for a short time." now if a person is willing to accept a cheque at all, he ought to present it within the time the holder intended, and if he does not and the bank fails, the loss falls on the holder and not on the maker. _what time does the law fix for presenting cheques for payment?_ the rule everywhere is that the holder must present a cheque received by him, if drawn on a bank in the place where he lives, on the day of receiving it or on the next day. if the cheque is drawn on a bank at a distance, out of town, then he should send it to that bank, either directly or by leaving it with another bank for that purpose, on the same day as he received it or the next day. in other words, _he must take steps to collect the cheque either on the day of receiving it or the following one_. a friend of mine gave a cheque to a merchant in payment of a small bill. both lived in the same town, where the bank on which the cheque was drawn was also located. about a week afterward the bank failed and the merchant wrote to him, stating the unwelcome fact and that the cheque had not been collected and desired him to send another. i asked my friend if he complied with the request, and he said: "certainly." i told him that he ought not to have done so, for he was under no obligation either in law or morals to do such a thing. had he known the above rule he would not have sent the second cheque, for it was pure negligence on the part of the merchant in not presenting it--in fact, on the same day it was received. a person may, of course, hold a cheque for a much longer period than the time above mentioned and present it and receive payment, but the point that we are trying to make clear is that _the risk of holding it_ during this period _is the holder's and not the risk of the maker of the cheque_. i suppose the merchant in the above case had, perhaps, lost the cheque. every now and then one is mislaid and, consequently, is not presented for payment when it should be, but the maker ought not to suffer for the negligence of the receiver of his cheque. the rule of law that we have given is founded on justice, and if the receiver is negligent in not presenting it as he should, the holder ought not to suffer. _it is the duty of a bank to pay a cheque just as it is drawn, and if it makes any mistakes it must suffer._ the reason for this rule is that the maker does not expect to see his cheque again after it leaves his hand, and when he puts his money in a bank for safe-keeping the bank virtually says to him that it will pay only on his order just as he has written. it will guard his interests carefully and pay no forged cheques or cheques that have been altered in dates or amounts, to his injury. now, it is quite a common thing for cheques to be forged, and still more common for them to be raised. a scoundrel gets a cheque that is genuine, ordering a bank to pay $18, and changes it to $1800. he presents it for payment and it is paid. by and by the depositor finds out that he has not as much money in the bank as he supposed he had there. what has happened? some one has altered one of his cheques and drawn out too much. he goes to the bank and makes inquiry, learns that this is so, and then demands that it shall make the amount good to him. usually a bank is obliged to pay. there is one limit to this rule. _a man making a cheque must be careful to write it in such a way that changes or alterations cannot easily be made._ if he is careless, leaving ample space so that changes can be made in the amount, then he will be considered negligent, and a bank would not be obliged to make good his loss. if, on the other hand, he is careful in drawing his cheques then a bank's duty to protect him is plain, and it is liable in the event of neglecting to do so. a few years ago a man drew a cheque for $250, dated it three days ahead, and left it with his clerk, directing him to draw the money on the day written in the cheque and pay the men who worked for him, and went away. the clerk thought that he would like to keep that money himself and take a little journey also, so he changed the date to one day earlier, went into the bank on that day and drew the money, and started for the klondike or some other place. the maker of the cheque soon found out what had happened and demanded of the bank to make the amount good. the bank said to him: "suppose the clerk had waited one day longer and then drawn the money, you would have been the loser just the same." the man admitted all this, but replied, nevertheless, that he had not changed the date; that the bank ought to have seen the alteration before paying, and as it did not it was negligent in that regard, and the bank was obliged to lose. when a person takes a cheque he naturally supposes that the bank on which it is drawn owes the money to him because he can truly demand it. _suppose a bank refuses to pay, can the holder then sue the bank for money?_ in six states--illinois, south carolina, missouri, kentucky, colorado, and texas--the holder of such a cheque can sue the bank and get his money. the courts in those states say that a cheque is an assignment or transfer of the amount of money stated to the holder of the cheque from the time that the cheque was given him. the law in all of the other states is otherwise, and a bank for a good reason can decline to pay a cheque, and, in any event, the holder cannot sue the bank for the amount. if it will not pay he must look to the maker and not the bank for payment. of course, _a cheque must always be drawn against a deposit, and it is a fraud on the part of a person to draw a cheque on a bank when he has no money there_. sometimes mistakes are made by banks in their bookkeeping, and they think they have not the money to pay when in truth they have. in such cases they sometimes decline to pay, but even if they had the money the law says that there is no contract between the holder of a cheque and the bank on which it is drawn, and therefore the holder cannot sue it should it refuse to pay. this rule, however, is rather losing ground and the other is coming into more general favour--that a cheque does operate to transfer the money of the maker to the holder and, consequently, that he has a right to sue the bank for the money. cheques are made payable either to bearer or order. if a cheque is made payable to bearer it can be transferred from one person to another simply by handing it to him--by delivery; but if a cheque is made payable to order, then the person who receives it, if wishing to transfer it to some one else, must write his name on the back. if he writes his name on the back it is called a blank indorsement, and this form is often used in transferring cheques. if, however, a person intends to send a cheque through the mail he should never write it payable to bearer, but always payable to the order of a particular person, so as to require his name to be written thereon in order to make a good transfer. this is a much safer way of sending cheques than simply by making them payable to bearer. xv. the law relating to leases a lease is an agreement, and, as every one knows, usually relates to the hiring of lands and houses. _if the agreement is to be for a longer period than one year it should be in writing_, for if it be not either party can avoid it, not morally but in law. the statute of frauds, which has been explained, would shield either party in not carrying out such an agreement if it were not in writing if by its terms it was to last for a longer period than one year. there is another very important reason for putting such an agreement in writing. much of the law relating to the two parties, landlord and tenant, is one-sided and in favour of the landlord. our law on that subject is based on the english law. it was imported in the early colonial days, and, though it has been greatly changed by statute and by decisions of the courts, it is still very one-sided, as we shall see before finishing this paper. for this reason, especially, all leases relating to houses and stores or other buildings, even for a short period, should be in writing, with the rights and duties of both parties fully stated, so that both may clearly know what to do and to expect. unless something is said in the lease concerning repairs the landlord is not obliged to make any. this statement shows at once the need of having a written lease. if the house is out of order--the locks, blinds, doors, and windows are not in good order--the tenant cannot claim anything of the landlord or require him to put them in good condition. even if a house should become unfit for habitation in consequence of fire, or is blown down, or is flooded with water, the landlord is not bound to do anything unless he has stated that he will in his lease. a fire broke out not long since in a large warehouse and burned it so completely as to render it wholly unfit for use; indeed, all the merchandise in it was wholly consumed. nevertheless, when the lease expired and the tenants refused to pay as they had agreed to do, the landlord brought a legal proceeding against them to compel them to pay during the entire period, as though they had been staying there and selling goods and making money, and they were compelled to pay. _this is the common law on the subject_, and every tenant is bound to pay in such cases unless he has clearly stated in his lease that he is not to be holden in the event of the destruction of the building by fire, flood, lightning, or other cause. furthermore, it may be added that leases nowadays are often furnished with blank spaces to be filled up with names, the amounts to be paid, times of payment, etc., and persons often sign them without even reading them. they should not do this. they should be careful to read them over two or three times or more, until they fully understand them and are sure of their nature before signing or executing them. people are still more negligent in taking out insurance policies without reading them. they are very long and parts of them are printed in fine type and, perhaps, are quite difficult, especially for old eyes, to read. in truth some of the most important parts are put in the finest print--some of the exceptions against loss and other matters, which, we are quite sure, if a person when taking out a policy should read over and understand he would insist on having changed. if a house becomes unfit for living therein by its own fault--for example, if it is overrun with rats, or becomes so decayed that the weather invades and is thereby rendered unfit--the tenant, so the law says, has indeed the privilege of quitting, if he did not know these things at the time of entering; but if he did, he would be required to live there, however much he might dislike the company of rats or the presence of the snow or rain, and also to pay his rent; or, if quitting for that reason, he would still be responsible for the rent as he would if living in the house. an eminent legal writer has stated the principle in this way: the tenant can leave if the defect was not known or anticipated by him, or known or anticipated if he had made a reasonable investigation or inquiry before he took the lease. a tenant is not required to make general repairs without an agreement, but he must make those that are necessary to preserve the house from injury by rain and wind. if the shingles are blown off or panes of glass are broken others must be put in their places; and it is said that he would be bound even for ornamental repairs, like paper and painting, if he made an agreement to return the house in good order. a tenant of a farm must manage and cultivate it by the same rules of husbandry as are practised in his vicinity, and if his lease ends by any event that is uncertain and could neither have been foreseen nor foretold, he is entitled to the annual crop sowed or planted by him while he was in possession. as we have stated, if the house is wholly destroyed the tenant must still pay the rent, for the reason, which to many may seem absurd, that the law regards the land as the principal thing and the house as secondary. it is true that a man, in the event of his house burning down, might pitch a tent on the ground and live there, but it would be a decidedly chilly way of living, especially in the winter-time, in the northern part of our country. if a tenant should agree to return and deliver the house at the end of the term in good order and condition, reasonable wear and tear only excepted, he would be obliged to rebuild the house if it burned down. once more, we ask, in view of these things, ought he not to make a written lease and well understand its terms before signing it? the times for paying rent are usually specified in the lease, if one is made. when they are not the tenant is governed by the usage of the country or place where he lives. when nothing is said about underletting the whole or a part to some one else the tenant has a right to do this, but remains bound to the landlord for his rent. generally when written leases are made there is a clause stating that the tenant cannot underlet any portion or all without the landlord's consent. _a tenant is not responsible for taxes unless it is expressly agreed that he shall pay them._ if a lease be for a fixed time the tenant loses all right or interest in the land as soon as the lease comes to an end, and he must leave then or the landlord may turn him out at once, or, in other language, eject him. if, however, he stays there longer with the consent of the landlord he is then called a tenant at will and cannot be turned out by the landlord without giving a notice to him to quit. the statutes of the several states have fixed the length of time that a notice must be given by the landlord to his tenant before he can turn him out. in many states a notice of thirty days must be given; sometimes sixty days' notice is required, or even longer. it is an important question _what things a tenant may take away with him at the expiration of his lease_. of course, there is no question whatever with respect to many things. besides his wife and children he may take all his furniture and other movable property. but there are many things fixed to the house by the tenant that he desires to remove if he has the right to do so, and many questions have been asked and decided by the courts relating to this subject. the method of fastening them to the house is the test usually applied to determine whether they can be taken away or not. if they are fastened by screws in such a way as to show that the tenant intended to take them away, he can do so, otherwise he cannot. in modern times the rule has been changed in favour of the tenant, and whatever he can remove without injuring the house, leaving it in as good condition as it would otherwise be, he can take away; for example, ornamental chimney-pieces, coffee-mills, cornices that are furnished with screws, furnaces, stoves, looking-glasses, pumps, gates, fence rails, barns or stables on blocks, etc. on the other hand, a barn placed on the ground cannot be removed, nor benches fastened to the house, nor trees, plants, and hedges not belonging to a gardener by trade, nor locks and keys. of course, all these things may be changed by the written lease, and it should be clearly stated what things may be removed concerning which any doubt may arise. we have heard of a case in which a tenant put a pier-glass into a house, fastening it by means of cement. he asked and was given the landlord's permission to do this at the time of putting it in, but when the lease ended the landlord would not allow him to take it out, and an appeal was made to a court, which decided in favour of the landlord. doubtless this decision is correct. if the glass could have been taken away without injuring the wall then it belonged to the tenant. this shows the need of putting such matters in writing; otherwise the tenant will suffer unless the landlord be a man of the highest integrity. xvi. liability of employer to employés persons who are employed in mills, in erecting buildings, by railroad companies, and others, are frequently injured while pursuing their employment, and the question has often arisen whether the employer was liable for the injury thus suffered by them. the more important of these questions we propose to answer in this and the following lecture, as they are matters of every-day importance to many people. first of all, an employé to recover anything for the loss that may have happened must show that in some way _his employer was negligent_. he cannot get something simply because he has been injured. the law in no country has ever said that he could. in all cases he must show that his employer failed in his duty in some way toward him to lay the foundation of an action against him. this is the first principle to keep clearly in mind. again, it is said that an employé cannot recover if the injury has happened to him in consequence of the negligence of a fellow-servant. by this is meant a person engaged in the same common employment. it is not always easy to determine whether two persons employed by the same company are fellow-servants, as we shall soon see, but the principle of law is plain enough that in all cases where they are thus acting as fellow-servants they cannot recover for any injury. the law says this is one of the risks that a person takes when he enters the service of another. suppose a person is at work mining coal and is injured by another person working by his side through his negligence. however severely injured he may be he cannot get anything, because the person through whose negligence he has been injured is a fellow-workman. but many employés may have the same common employer and yet not be fellow-servants. for example, a brakeman would be a fellow-servant with the conductor and engineer and other persons running on the same train or on other trains belonging to the same company, but he would not be a fellow-servant working in the same line of employment with those who are engaged in the repair-shop of the company. this statement is quite sufficient to show the difficulty there is sometimes in deciding whether a person is a fellow-servant or not. if a person is injured through the negligence of another employed by the same company who is not a fellow-servant, then he can recover if there are no other difficulties in the way, otherwise he cannot. it does not follow that fellow-servants are of the same grade or rank; the test is whether they are acting in the same line of employment. the brakeman's position is not so high as that of the engineer or conductor, yet all three are acting in the same line of employment, and if any one of them was injured by another in that part of the service the employer would not be liable. in a very large number of cases, therefore, employers are not liable for accidents happening to their employés, because they are injured through the negligence of other employés engaged in the same line or subdivision of the common service. perhaps employers escape more frequently on this ground than on any other from paying anything for losses. yet there is another ground on which they often escape paying anything. an employé is supposed when making his contract with his employer to take on himself all the ordinary risks arising from his employment. these in many cases are very numerous. he does not assume extraordinary risks, but he does assume all ordinary risks that are likely to happen to him. employés are injured every day and yet can recover nothing, because their injury is simply a common one, the risk of which they have assumed. would it not be possible to make an employer liable for them all? undoubtedly an employé could make a contract of this kind if he wished and his employer was willing to do so, but if they did the employer would be unwilling to pay as high wages. the greater the risk assumed by the employé the larger is the compensation paid; the one thing is graded by the other. it was stated when considering the rights and duties of common carriers that they have been lessening their liabilities; on the other hand, they are carrying for smaller prices than they once did. doubtless a carrier would be willing to assume more risks--every kind of risk, in short--if he were paid enough for it, but shippers ordinarily are willing to assume many risks for the sake of the lower rates and insure their risks in insurance companies. just so the working-men prefer higher wages and assume many risks of their employment. there is nothing unfair in this. for example, the persons who are engaged in making white lead run an unusual risk in pursuing their employment. it is said nowadays that if they use the utmost care in protecting themselves from inhaling the fumes that arise in some stages of this process, they can live quite as long as other people. but unless they do exercise every precaution their system finally becomes charged with the poison that arises from this process and their lives are shortened. they well understand this before beginning the work; they are told of the risks and are paid high wages. if, therefore, they undertake such employment, well knowing the risks, they have no right to complain if their health after a time suffers. no fraud has been practised on them, and we do not know that they do complain if they suffer any ill effects from their work. xvii. liability of employers to employés (_continued_) in our last lecture we stated some of the principles relating to the liabilities of employers to their employés; in this lesson the subject will be continued. _an employer is bound to use some care or precaution, and if he does not will be responsible for his neglect._ one of these is he must employ persons who are fit for the work they are set to do. if an employer in mining should put a man to work by the side of another to mine coal who he knew was not a skilful workman, and, in consequence of this unskilful workman's unskilfulness, other miners were injured, he would be responsible for hiring such a man. every one will see the justice of this rule. _the employer must also give proper instructions to the person employed whenever he does not understand his duties._ if a person is employed to run a laundry machine who does not understand how to work it, and other employés are injured through his ignorance, the employer would be liable. he must, therefore, tell such a person what to do; he has no right to hazard the lives of others by putting any one who has no knowledge of a machine to work without instructing him properly. again, if a person pretends to be capable, and the employer, believing him, engages him, and it is soon found out that he is not, then it is the duty of the employer either to dismiss him or to give him proper instructions. the rule, however, on this subject is not the same everywhere. it is sometimes said that if an employé continues to work by the side of another after knowing that this other is incompetent, it is his duty to give notice to the employer, and if the employer continues to employ him, to quit. if he does not he assumes the greater risk arising from his knowledge of the incompetency of the other. _it is the duty of the employer to furnish proper appliances for his workmen._ he must furnish proper tools and machinery and safe scaffolding, and in every respect must show a reasonable degree of care in all these particulars. but the courts say that he is not obliged to exercise the _utmost_ care, because the employé takes on himself some risk with respect to the tools and machinery he uses. for example, it is said that employers are not obliged to use the latest appliances that are known or appear in the market for the use of their workmen. if an employer has an older one that has been in use for years, and the employés have found out all the dangers attending its use, and a new one appears that is less dangerous to use, the law does not require the employer to throw the older one away and get the other. it is true that in many states within the last few years statutes have been passed by the legislatures requiring employers to be much more careful than they were formerly in protecting their machinery. many injuries have happened from the use of belting, and the statutes in many cases have stated what must be done in the way of enclosing belts, and of putting screens around machinery, and in various ways of so protecting it that persons will be less liable to suffer. furthermore, inventors have been very busy in inventing machinery with this end in view. the old-fashioned car-coupler was a very dangerous device, and many a poor fellow has been crushed between cars when trying to couple them. a coupler has been made in which this danger no longer exists; in truth, there has been a great advance in this direction. _an employer must also select suitable materials on which to work._ this is a well-known principle. if he does not, then he is responsible for the consequences. in one of the cases a person was injured while erecting a scaffolding from the breaking of a knotty timber. the testimony was that the knot was visible on the surface and if the stick had been examined the defect would have been seen. that seemed a slight defect, surely, but the consequence of using the timber was very serious, and the court rightly held that as this defect could have been seen, had the timber been properly examined, the employer was responsible for the injury to a workman who was injured by the breaking of it. _an employer must also select suitable places for his employés._ in one of the cases a court said a master does not warrant his servant's safety. he does, however, agree to adopt and keep proper means with which to carry on the business in which they are employed. among these is the providing of a suitable place for doing his work without exposure to dangers that do not come within the reasonable scope of his employment. in one of the cases a company stored a quantity of dynamite so near a place where an employé was working that he was killed by its explosion. the court held that it was negligence on the part of the company in requiring its employé to work so near the place where this explosive material was kept. it is said that if an employé knows that a machine which he is to operate is defective when accepting employment he can recover nothing for the consequences. he assumes the risk whenever he thus engages to work. if the service be especially perilous and yet he clearly understands the nature of it and is injured when performing it, he can get nothing. doubtless in many of these cases he is paid a larger sum for working under such conditions. whatever may be the truth in this regard, the principle of law is well understood that, if he has a full knowledge of the risk of his situation and makes no complaint about the nature of the machinery that he is to operate, he accepts the risks, however great they may be. in one of the cases an employé was injured by the kick of a horse belonging to his employer, but he recovered nothing, because he understood the vicious nature of the animal. the horse had kicked others; in fact, its reputation for kicking was well known, and the employé began work with his eyes wide open. this rule also applies if tools, machinery, etc., become defective and the employé continues to work after the defects are found out. of course, every one knows that tools wear out and machinery becomes weaker, and that is one of the natural consequences of using them. and so it is regarded as one of the risks ordinarily taken by an employé, and therefore he can get nothing whenever he is injured through the operation of a defective machine caused by the natural wear and tear of time. examination paper note.--_the following questions are given as an indication of the sort of knowledge a student ought to possess after a careful study of the course. the student is advised to write out the answers. only such answers need be attempted as can be framed from the lessons._ 1. (_a_) what is a contract? (_b_) what is the difference between a simple and a special contract? (_c_) what contracts can be made by a minor? when and how can he ratify them? (_d_) if a person makes a contract to work for one year and breaks it after working six months can he collect six months' wages? (_e_) give illustrations of six different kinds of contracts. 2. (_a_) when is it necessary that contracts be in writing? (_b_) in what case is a failure of consideration a good defence to a contract? (_c_) is a consideration required to make an offer binding? (_d_) is the delivery of goods essential to make a sale complete? 3. (_a_) what are the different kinds of warranties? (_b_) suppose a should buy goods and pay for them, but not take them away, and afterward b should buy them and take them away--could a recover the goods from b? 4. (_a_) what is the difference between a public and a private carrier? (_b_) must a public carrier take everything offered? (_c_) what rules of liability apply to common carriers, and how can they be modified? preparing copy for the press and proof-reading i. preparing copy our purpose in these few lessons is to give some explicit directions as to the general make-up of manuscripts intended for printing. every person who has even a business card or a circular to print should have a knowledge of the common phraseology of a printing house. as to paper, the size in most common use for manuscripts is what is known as _letter_. the sheets in any case should be of uniform size. avoid all eccentricity and affectation in the preparation of your manuscript, or "copy," as printers call it. the more matter-of-fact and businesslike it is the better. if at all possible have your manuscript type-written, and under no circumstances should you roll the sheets when preparing them for the mails. there are a number of large publishing houses which positively refuse to touch rolled manuscripts. the very first impression created by such a manuscript is one of extreme irritation. a rolled proof is pretty nearly as discouraging, yet many printers still follow the annoying practice of rolling their proofs. every printing establishment of any note has its methods and customs as regards orthography, the use of capitals and of punctuation. as a rule it is best to leave doubtful points to the printer. any little deviation desired may be easily remedied in the proofs. paragraphs should be boldly indicated by setting the line well back in the "copy." extract matter included in the text should be clearly shown, either by marking it down the side with a vertical line from beginning to end or by setting the whole well back within the compass of the text. such matter is commonly set in slightly smaller type. with regard to the corrections in the proofs it must be remembered that the more carefully an article is written the smaller the expense for author's corrections. this charge is often a great source of contention between the author and the printer, and, altogether, is an unsatisfactory item. a printer is bound, with certain reservations, to follow the "copy" supplied. if he does that and the author does not make any alterations there is no extra charge and nothing to wrangle about. a small correction, trivial as it may seem to the inexperienced, may involve much trouble to the printer. a word inserted or deleted may cause a page to be altered throughout, line by line, and a few words may possibly affect several pages. the charges made for corrections are based on the time consumed in making the necessary alterations. ii. on the names and sizes of type the beauty of printed matter depends very largely upon the selection of a suitable style of type. for books and newspaper work there are in use two general classes known as (_a_) _old style_, (_b_) _modern_. these names refer to the shape of the letter and not to its size. the several sizes of type commonly used in all plain work are as follows: 1. pearl. 2. agate. 3. nonpareil. 4. minion. 5. brevier. 6. bourgeois. 7. long primer. 8. small pica. 9. pica. 10. english. 11. great primer. pica is universally considered as the standard type, just as the _foot_ is the standard of measurement. the twelfth part of a pica is the unit, called a _point_, by which type bodies are measured. in many printing offices the type is known as _6-point_, _8-point_, _10-point_, _etc._, instead of as _nonpareil_, _brevier_, _long primer_, _etc._ the following specimens show the sizes of the type in common use: [illustration: sample type faces pearl, agate, nonpareil, minion, brevier, bourgeois, primer, small pica, pica, english, primer.] the student must bear in mind the fact that these names refer to the _size_ of the type. for instance, there may be a dozen different styles of brevier or of pica; a particular specimen of printing may be entirely in long primer, yet some words may be capitals, others italic, others boldface, and so on. agate is the size of type used in measuring advertisements. there are fourteen agate lines in an inch. a complete series of type of a particular size is called a _font_; as a font of brevier, or of pica. such a font would include: capitals small capitals lower-case _italic capitals_ _italic lower-case_. also _figures_, _fractions_, _points_, _references_, _braces_, _signs_, _etc._ printers divide a font of letters into two classes: 1. _the upper-case_ } _sorts._ 2. _the lower-case_ } the _upper-case sorts_ are _capitals_, _small capitals_, _references_, _dashes_, _braces_, _signs_, etc. the _lower-case sorts_ consist of _small letters_, _figures_, _points_, _spaces_, etc. type lines are often bulked out by the insertion of thin strips of lead, this being called _leading_. where no leads are employed the matter is said to be _solid_. iii. the terms used in printing composition. this is the name given by printers to the work of setting the type. the compositor holds in his hand a _composing-stick_, into which he places the type letter by letter, adding the spaces where necessary. a great deal of the newspaper work of the present day is set by type machines. distributing. the type of a particular page or article after it has been used on the press or for electrotyping is distributed letter by letter in the _cases_. this work is much more rapid than composition. type to be used a second time is said to be _standing_ or is called _standing matter_. spaces. spaces are short blank types and are used to separate one word from another. to enable a compositor to space evenly and to "justify" properly, these spaces are cast to various thicknesses. an _em quadrat_ is a short blank type, in thickness equal to the letter _m_ of the font to which it belongs. quadrats are of various sizes. calendered paper. this name is given to very highly rolled or glazed paper such as is used in illustrated work. _laid_ paper has a slightly ribbed surface. _antique_ paper is rough and usually untrimmed at the edges. it is made in imitation of old styles. caps. and lower-case. these names are used to designate capitals and small letters. clarendon. this name is commonly given to a _bold_ and _black-faced type_, such as used in text-books to bring out prominently particular words. dummy. an imitation in style and size of a book or pamphlet that is wanted, usually made up with blank paper. electrotype. electrotype or stereotype plates are made from type. books are usually printed from such plates. galley proof. as the type is set up it is removed from the composing-stick to long forms called _galleys_. a proof taken of the whole galley at once is called a _galley proof_. book work should be revised in galleys before it is made up into pages. impression. a _flat-pull_ or first impression is a simple proof usually pulled in job offices by laying a sheet of damp paper on the inked type and pounding with a flat-surfaced weight to get the impression. indent. to set a line some distance forward, as in the case of a new paragraph. letterpress. printed matter from type as distinguished from plate printing. make-up. to measure off type matter into pages. off-set. it frequently occurs that as the result of insufficient drying or from other causes the impression of one sheet appears on the back of another; such work is said to _off-set_. overlays. in making ready for the press the pressman finds it necessary to add here and there, by pasting, thicknesses of paper to his roller to bring out properly the light and shade of an illustration or to get an even ink impression from the type or plates. this work is called _making overlays_. in expensive illustrated work specialists are engaged solely for the purpose of making overlays. press proof. the final proof passed by the author or publisher. process-blocks. blocks produced by the photoengraving and other mechanical processes. query. a mark made on a proof by the printer to call attention to a possible error, sometimes expressed by a note of interrogation (?). register. the exact adjustment of pages back to back in printing the second side of a sheet. signature. the letter or figure at the foot of a sheet to guide the binder in folding; also used by printers to identify any particular sheet. the various marks and signs used by printers will be explained in the lesson on proof-reading. iv. marks used in proof-reading the most important of the signs used in making corrections for the printer are as follows: 1. [illustration] delete or expunge. 2. [illustration] a turned letter. 3. [illustration] wrong-font letter. 4. [illustration] change capital to small letter, ("lower-case"). 5. [illustration] insert period. 6. [illustration] transpose words or letters as indicated. 7. [illustration] change roman to _italic_. 8. [illustration] change _italic_ to roman. 9. [illustration] space to be inserted. 10. [illustration] matter wrongly altered to remain as it was originally. dots are placed under the matter. 11. [illustration] a bad or battered letter. 12. [illustration] space to be reduced. 13. [illustration] close up. 14. [illustration] push down space or lead. 15. [illustration] new paragraph. 16. [illustration] something foreign between the lines, or a wrong-font space making the type crooked. 17. [illustration] line to be indented one _em_ of its own body. when letters or words are set double or are required to be taken out a line is drawn through the superfluous word or letter and the mark no. 1, called _dele_, placed opposite on the margin. (_dele_ is latin for _take out_.) a turned letter is noted by drawing a line through it and writing the mark no. 2 on the margin. if letters or words require to be altered to make them more conspicuous a parallel line or lines must be made underneath the word or letter--namely, for capitals, _three lines_; for small capitals, _two lines_; and for italic, _one line_; and on the margin opposite the line where the alteration occurs the sign _caps._, _small caps._, or _ital._ must be written. where a letter of a different font is improperly introduced into the page it is noted by drawing a line through it and writing _w. f._ (_wrong font_) on the margin. where a word has been left out or is to be added a _caret_ must be made in the place where it should come in and the word written on the margin. a caret is made thus: ^ where letters stand crooked they are noted by a line, but where a page hangs lines are drawn across the entire part affected. where a faulty letter appears it is denoted by making a cross under it and placing a similar mark on the margin. where several words are left out or where new matter is to be added the added matter is written wherever convenient, and a line is drawn from the place of omission to the written words. in making a correction in a proof always mark the wrong letter or word through and insert the alteration in the margin, not in the middle of the printed matter, because it is liable to be overlooked if there is no marginal reference to the correction. to keep the different corrections distinct finish each off with a stroke, thus /; and to make the alterations more clear or less crowded mark those relating to the left-hand portion on the left margin and those relating to the right-hand portion on the right margin. * * * * * the hints given here are intended for the general public and not for the printer, and to the student of these lessons let us say that the first essential of good proof-reading is clearness. be very sure that the printer will understand the changes which you desire him to make. quite often it is an advantage if you wish a particular style of type used to cut out a sample of that style and paste it on your copy or on your proof, indicating that you want it to be used. instructions to the printer written either on the copy or on the proof should be surrounded by a line to separate them from the text, or to prevent any confusion with other written matter intended as copy or as corrections. when the corrections have been duly made and approved by the author or editor it is customary to write the word "press" on the top of the first page. if intermediate proofs are wanted, mark on the proofs returned to the printer "send revise." the final or "press" proof is always retained by the printer in case of any dispute. it is his voucher, and he retains it for future reference. it is a good plan to make corrections in a different coloured ink from that used by the printer's proof-reader. if you are having a pamphlet or book printed the different proofs will reach you in the following order: 1. _galley proofs._ 2. _revised proofs_ (if any). 3. _page proofs._ 4. _foundry proofs._ [illustration: a printer's proof.] so far as possible, make all the necessary changes while the type is in galleys. once made up into pages, a very slight change, particularly such a change as the crossing out or addition of a sentence, may make a great deal of trouble. when the pages are passed upon they are sent to the foundry for casting. the foundry proofs are the last proofs pulled. corrections made on these make it necessary to alter the electrotype plates, which is rather an expensive process. to change a word, a piece of the metal plate has to be cut out and another with the new word soldered in. [illustration: a printer's corrected proof.] a page is said to _overrun_ if it is too long. if the space to be occupied is limited it is a good plan to adapt your copy to it by counting the words and by comparing the count with that of some printed page in the same size of type. return proofs to your printer or publisher as promptly as possible. as a rule printing houses cannot afford to keep type locked up and unused waiting for the return of proofs. there are many imperfections in typography, such as wrong-font and inverted letters, awkward and irregular spacing, uneven pages or columns, crooked words and lines, etc., which it is the business of the printing house to correct. no book or pamphlet, therefore, ought to go to press until it has been read and revised by an experienced reader. strict uniformity should always be preserved in the use of capitals, in spelling, and in punctuation. where authors have their manuscripts type-written and make two or three revises upon the type-written sheets before their copy is turned over to the publishing house, the labour of proof-reading and the expenses of corrections are reduced to a minimum. the errors shown in our illustration are more numerous than are likely to appear in any proof sent out from a publishing house. +------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's notes | +________________________________________________+ | | | page 35 favorable changed to favourable | | 49 favor changed to favour | | 65 (5) changed to 5. | | 115 contantly changed to constantly | | 130 ierland change to ireland | | 150 battle-ships changed to battleships | | 152 bread-stuffs changed to breadstuffs | | 162 duplicated "from" deleted | | 163 bread-stuffs change to breadstuffs | | 205 june, 1898 changed to june 30, 1898 | | 208 proportiona t changed to proportion at| | 223 duplicated "in" deleted | | 258 typewritten changed to type-written | | 350 everyday changed to every-day | | 384 comma added after figures | | 389 colored changed to coloured | | 390 nessary changed to necessary | +------------------------------------------------+ [illustration] cyclopedia _of_ commerce, accountancy, business administration volume 3 _a general reference work on_ accounting, auditing, bookkeeping, commercial law, business management, administrative and industrial organization, banking, advertising, selling, office and factory records, cost keeping, systematizing, etc. _prepared by a corps of_ auditors, accountants, attorneys, and specialists in business methods and management _illustrated with over two thousand engravings_ ten volumes chicago american technical society 1910 copyright, 1909 by american school of correspondence copyright, 1909 by american technical society entered at stationers' hall, london all rights reserved authors and collaborators james bray griffith, _managing editor_ head, dept. of commerce, accountancy, and business administration, american school of correspondence. robert h. montgomery of the firm of lybrand, ross bros. & montgomery, certified public accountants. editor of the american edition of dicksee's _auditing_. formerly lecturer on auditing at the evening school of accounts and finance of the university of pennsylvania, and the school of commerce, accounts, and finance of the new york university. arthur lowes dickinson, f.c.a., c.p.a. of the firms of jones, caesar, dickinson, wilmot & company, certified public accountants, and price, waterhouse & company, chartered accountants. william m. lybrand, c.p.a. of the firm of lybrand, ross bros. & montgomery, certified public accountants. f. h. macpherson, c.a., c.p.a. of the firm of f. h. macpherson & co., certified public accountants. chas. a. sweetland consulting public accountant. author of "loose-leaf bookkeeping," and "anti-confusion business methods." e. c. landis of the system department, burroughs adding machine company. harris c. trow, s.b. _editor-in-chief_, textbook department, american school of correspondence. cecil b. smeeton, f.i.a. public accountant and auditor. president, incorporated accountants' society of illinois. fellow, institute of accounts, new york. john a. chamberlain, a.b., ll.b. of the cleveland bar. lecturer on suretyship, western reserve law school. author of "principles of business law." hugh wright auditor, westlake construction company. glenn m. hobbs, ph.d. secretary, american school of correspondence. jessie m. shepherd, a.b. associate editor, textbook department, american school of correspondence. george c. russell systematizer. formerly manager, system department, elliott-fisher company. oscar e. perrigo, m.e. specialist in industrial organization. author of "machine-shop economics and systems," etc. darwin s. hatch, b.s. assistant editor, textbook department, american school of correspondence. chas. e. hathaway cost expert. chief accountant, fore river shipbuilding co. chas. wilbur leigh, b.s. associate professor of mathematics, armour institute of technology. l. w. lewis advertising manager, the mccaskey register co. martin w. russell registrar and treasurer, american school of correspondence. halbert p. gillette, c.e. managing editor, _engineering-contracting_. author of "handbook of cost data for contractors and engineers." r. t. miller, jr., a.m., ll.b. president, american school of correspondence. william schutte manager of advertising, national cash register co. e. st. elmo lewis advertising manager, burroughs adding machine company. author of "the credit man and his work" and "financial advertising." richard t. dana consulting engineer. chief engineer, construction service co. p. h. bogardus publicity manager, american school of correspondence. william g. nichols general manufacturing agent for the china mfg. co., the webster mfg. co., and the pembroke mills. author of "cost finding" and "cotton mills." c. h. hunter advertising manager, elliott-fisher co. frank c. morse filing expert. secretary, browne-morse co. h. e. k'berg expert on loose-leaf systems. formerly manager, business systems department, burroughs adding machine co. edward b. waite head, instruction department, american school of correspondence. authorities consulted the editors have freely consulted the standard technical and business literature of america and europe in the preparation of these volumes. they desire to express their indebtedness, particularly, to the following eminent authorities, whose well-known treatises should be in the library of everyone interested in modern business methods. grateful acknowledgment is made also of the valuable service rendered by the many manufacturers and specialists in office and factory methods, whose coöperation has made it possible to include in these volumes suitable illustrations of the latest equipment for office use; as well as those financial, mercantile, and manufacturing concerns who have supplied illustrations of offices, factories, shops, and buildings, typical of the commercial and industrial life of america. joseph hardcastle, c.p.a. formerly professor of principles and practice of accounts, school of commerce, accounts, and finance, new york university. author of "accounts of executors and testamentary trustees." horace lucian arnold specialist in factory organization and accounting. author of "the complete cost keeper," and "factory manager and accountant." john f. j. mulhall, p.a. specialist in corporation accounts. author of "quasi public corporation accounting and management." sherwin cody advertising and sales specialist. author of "how to do business by letter," and "art of writing and speaking the english language." frederick tipson, c.p.a. author of "theory of accounts." charles buxton going managing editor of _the engineering magazine_. associate in mechanical engineering, columbia university. corresponding member, canadian mining institute. f. e. webner public accountant. specialist in factory accounting. contributor to the engineering press. amos k. fiske associate editor of the _new york journal of commerce_. author of "the modern bank." joseph french johnson dean of the new york university school of commerce, accounts, and finance. editor, _the journal of accountancy_. author of "money, exchange, and banking." m. u. overland of the new york bar. author of "classified corporation laws of all the states." thomas conyngton of the new york bar. author of "corporate management," "corporate organization," "the modern corporation," and "partnership relations." theophilus parsons, ll.d. author of "the laws of business." e. st. elmo lewis advertising manager, burroughs adding machine company. formerly manager of publicity, national cash register co. author of "the credit man and his work," and "financial advertising." t. e. young, b.a., f.r.a.s. ex-president of the institute of actuaries. member of the actuary society of america. author of "insurance." lawrence r. dicksee, f.c.a. professor of accounting at the university of birmingham. author of "advanced accounting," "auditing," "bookkeeping for company secretary," etc. francis w. pixley author of "auditors, their duties and responsibilities," and "accountancy." charles u. carpenter general manager, the herring-hall-marvin safe co. formerly general manager, national cash register co. author of "profit making management." c. e. knoeppel specialist in cost analysis and factory betterment. author of "systematic foundry operation and foundry costing," "maximum production through organization and supervision," and other papers. harrington emerson, m.a. consulting engineer. director of organization and betterment work on the santa fe system. originator of the emerson efficiency system. author of "efficiency as a basis for operation and wages." elmer h. beach specialist in accounting methods. editor, _beach's magazine of business_. founder of the bookkeeper. editor of _the american business and accounting encyclopedia_. j. j. rahill, c.p.a. member, california society of public accountants. author of "corporation accounting and corporation law." frank brooker, c.p.a. ex-new york state examiner of certified public accountants. ex-president, american association of public accountants. author of "american accountants' manual." clinton e. woods, m.e. specialist in industrial organization. formerly comptroller, sears, roebuck & co. author of "organizing a factory," and "woods' reports." charles e. sprague, c.p.a. president of the union dime savings bank, new york. author of "the accountancy of investment," "extended bond tables," and "problems and studies in the accountancy of investment." charles waldo haskins, c.p.a., l.h.m. author of "business education and accountancy." john j. crawford author of "bank directors, their powers, duties, and liabilities." dr. f. a. cleveland of the wharton school of finance, university of pennsylvania. author of "funds and their uses." [illustration: the supreme court building at springfield, ill.] foreword with the unprecedented increase in our commercial activities has come a demand for better business methods. methods which were adequate for the business of a less active commercial era, have given way to systems and labor-saving ideas in keeping with the financial and industrial progress of the world. out of this progress has risen a new literature--the literature of business. but with the rapid advancement in the science of business, its literature can scarcely be said to have kept pace, at least, not to the same extent as in other sciences and professions. much excellent material dealing with special phases of business activity has been prepared, but this is so scattered that the student desiring to acquire a comprehensive business library has found himself confronted by serious difficulties. he has been obliged, to a great extent, to make his selections blindly, resulting in many duplications of material without securing needed information on important phases of the subject. in the belief that a demand exists for a library which shall embrace the best practice in all branches of business--from buying to selling, from simple bookkeeping to the administration of the financial affairs of a great corporation--these volumes have been prepared. prepared primarily for use as instruction books for the american school of correspondence, the material from which the cyclopedia has been compiled embraces the latest ideas with explanations of the most approved methods of modern business. editors and writers have been selected because of their familiarity with, and experience in handling various subjects pertaining to commerce, accountancy, and business administration. writers with practical business experience have received preference over those with theoretical training; practicability has been considered of greater importance than literary excellence. in addition to covering the entire general field of business, this cyclopedia contains much specialized information not heretofore published in any form. this specialization is particularly apparent in those sections which treat of accounting and methods of management for department stores, contractors, publishers and printers, insurance, and real estate. the value of this information will be recognized by every student of business. the principal value which is claimed for this cyclopedia is as a reference work, but, comprising as it does the material used by the school in its correspondence courses, it is offered with the confident expectation that it will prove of great value to the trained man who desires to become conversant with phases of business practice with which he is unfamiliar, and to those holding advanced clerical and managerial positions. in conclusion, grateful acknowledgment is made to authors and collaborators, to whose hearty coöperation the excellence of this work is due. table of contents (for professional standing of authors, see list of authors and collaborators in front of volume.) volume iii law of contracts and agency _by john a. chamberlain_ page 11 law in general--contracts--consideration--revocation--illegal contracts--mistake--assignments--discharge of contract--warranty- recision--remedies for breach--forms of contracts--appointment of agents--sub-agents--factors--brokers--auctioneers--real estate brokers law of partnership and corporations _by john a. chamberlain_ page 77 creation of partnership--agreements--rights and liabilities- change of membership--survivorship--dissolution--powers of corporations--capital stock--calls and assessments--watered stock--common and preferred stock--dividends--officers and agents law of negotiable instruments, banking, and insurance _by john a. chamberlain_ page 112 negotiability and assignability--law merchant--notes, drafts, bills of exchange, and checks--bonds--indorsement--forgery- fraud and duress--consideration--defences--dishonor and protest- functions and powers of banks--deposits--loans and credits- discount--exchange--interest--insurance contracts--policies- suretyship--subrogation--indemnity law of sales, mortgages, and carriers _by john a. chamberlain_ page 179 sale, barter, and bailment--when title passes--effect of fraud- warranties--seller's lien--title to property bailed--degree of care required--pledges--collateral securities--redemption- mortgages--form of mortgages--foreclosure--title to goods after delivery--stoppage _in transitu_--interstate commerce act- passengers--baggage law of real property _by john a. chamberlain_ page 236 crops and emblements--party walls--fixtures--fences--private ways and highways--varieties of estates--waste--deeds- possession--deeds and mortgages--transfer of mortgages and mortgaged premises--satisfaction--redemption--foreclosure- parties to trusts--varieties of trusts--rights of tenant- rent--distress--leases--actions for possession--trade marks law of wills and legal actions _by john a. chamberlain_ page 287 parties and terms in wills--publication--revocation and alteration--advancement, abatement, and ademption--form of wills--varieties of courts--legal actions and their enforcement index page 311 [illustration: the building of the law school of the university of chicago] commercial law part i law in general =1. rights.= men are endowed with certain individual rights. these rights are principally of two classes, personal and property. men have the right to live in peace and quietude. in so far as it does not interfere with the same privilege on the part of others they have the right to be unmolested in the pursuit of happiness. they have the right to defend themselves against the attacks of others, to satisfy bodily hunger and thirst, and to preserve their bodies in health and strength. besides these personal rights, men have the right to acquire and keep property. this right is also subject to the limitation of not interfering with the same privilege on the part of others. men have the right to acquire property, both chattel and real. for the purpose of rendering their existence and enjoyment secure, they have the right to keep the title and possession of this property in themselves. in primitive times, property rights were few. personal rights were recognized and enforced by might. as the requirements of civilized life became more complex, property rights were needed and recognized. rules of conduct and rules for the holding and transfer of property were recognized and enforced. might ceased to be the principal method of enforcing rights. rules began to be recognized and enforced with regard to persons and property. these rules are known as laws. =2. law.= law may be defined to be a rule of human conduct. it may be said to embrace all rules of human conduct recognized by courts of law. laws are necessary to enable men to enforce and enjoy their rights, both personal and property. customs of men become rules by which human affairs are regulated. men may disagree as to what their rights are, or as to their exact scope or limitations. in this event, rules of conduct or laws must determine their scope and limitations. disputes among men arise about their personal or property rights. the rules recognized by the courts in settling these disputes are laws. these rules or laws relate both to persons and property. a law which prohibits murder is a rule by which the state protects the lives of its citizens; a law which prohibits theft is a rule for the protection of property. =3. sources of law.= law is derived from the customs of the people and from the written declarations or agreements of the people or their representatives. the customs of the people, constituting a large part of our law, are found principally in the decisions of courts. each state of this country prints and keeps a permanent record of at least the most important decisions of its court of last resort. many decisions of lower courts are printed and preserved. every law library of importance has the printed reports of the supreme court of each state of this country; as well as the reports of the higher courts of most of the countries where the english language is spoken or officially recognized. the reports of the higher courts of england, ireland, canada, australia, and of many of the island possessions of this country and of england, are found in most law libraries. the second source of law is the written declaration of the people or their representatives. these declarations consist of legislative acts, treaties and constitutions. in this country, legislative acts may be either national or state. many statutes are nothing more than recognized customs enacted into written laws. other statutes are variations or restrictions of recognized customs. national legislative acts are numbered consecutively, printed and bound into volumes known as the _federal statutes_. each state numbers its statutes consecutively and prints and binds them into volumes known as the _state statutes_. =4. divisions of the law.= there are two great divisions of the law, _written_ and _unwritten_. the greater portion of the law consists of the customs of the people, as evidenced and preserved by the written decisions of the courts. these customs, to be recognized as law, need not be found in written decisions, but the most important ones have become embodied therein. new customs are necessary and are recognized to meet new and changing conditions. these new customs are continually adding to our unwritten law. while this great portion of the law is called unwritten law, the greater portion of it actually is in writing, and is preserved in permanent form by our court reports, both national and state. the second division of law is known as written law. it consists of treaties, constitutions, and legislative acts. _treaties_ are international compacts. _legislative acts_ are the laws passed by the people or their representatives. in this country they consist of the laws passed by the united states congress, and by the representative bodies of each state. _constitutions_, in this country, consist of the state constitutions and the united states constitution. in england the constitution is not written, but is a part of the unwritten law of the land. =5. classification of law.= a number of useful classifications of the law are recognized. any classification is more or less arbitrary, and no classification has been recognized universally. law may be classified as _public_, _administrative_, and _private_. public law embraces the law of nations, called _international law_; the laws regulating the enforcement and recognition of constitutional provisions, called _constitutional law_; and the laws protecting citizens against the actions of dangerous characters, called _criminal laws_. the public as a unit is said to be interested in public law. public laws are recognized and enforced in theory, at least, for the benefit of the public and not for any particular individual. for example, if a murder is committed, the state through its officers prosecutes and punishes the criminal on the theory that a wrong has been done the state. the heirs or representatives of the person murdered can sue and recover money compensation, called _damages_, from the murderer, but the state punishes the criminal. this work does not treat of public law. _administrative law_, sometimes called _law of procedure_, embraces the rules and regulations relating to the enforcement of personal and property rights. the laws relating to courts, the method and manner of starting legal actions, the trial of cases, and the rendering and enforcement of judgments are common examples of administrative law. _private law_ embraces the _law of contracts_ and of _torts_. contracts consist of agreements of every nature. the great majority of dealings of men are carried out by means of contracts. this is the most important, as well as the most extensive subject known to the law. torts embrace all private wrongs not arising out of contracts. any injury inflicted by one person upon the person or property of another, which is not a breach of contract, is a tort. tort is the french word for private wrong. if _a_ carelessly drives his automobile into _b_'s wagon, he commits a tort. if _a_ carelessly drives his horse over _b_'s field, he commits a tort. if _a_ wrongfully strikes _b_, he commits a tort. torts and crimes frequently over-lap. the same act may constitute a tort and a crime. if _a_ drives his automobile faster than the laws of the state or city permit, and while so doing runs over and injures _b_, he commits both a tort and a crime. he is liable to the state for imprisonment or fine for the crime, and he is liable to _b_ in money for damages for the tort. the same act may constitute a crime, a breach of contract, and a tort. if _a_, engaged as a chauffeur to operate an automobile carefully and skillfully, violates the speed law, and in so doing runs over and injures _b_, he commits a crime and is liable to the state for punishment or fine. he is also liable in damages to _b_ for the tort committed, and is liable in damages to his employer for breach of contract. this work has largely to do with the law of contracts and torts. the term _commercial law_, applied to this work, is a term used arbitrarily to embrace the laws relating to commercial affairs. it has no distinct place in the general classification of law. contracts =6. contract, defined and discussed.= a contract has been defined to be an agreement between two or more competent parties, enforceable in a court of law, and based upon a sufficient consideration, to do or not to do a particular thing. the law relating to contracts is the most important, as well as the most extensive, branch of commercial law. it touches, directly or indirectly, most of the dealings of men. it is the legal basis of all business transactions. in the daily routine of their life, most families make many contracts. by reading the morning paper left at his door, a person impliedly agrees to pay the publisher the customary price. by ordering the daily supply of groceries by telephone, the housewife impliedly contracts to pay for their value, upon delivery, or at the customary time of payment. by purchasing a number of car tickets from the street car conductor, a person makes a contract. by ordering a lunch, a person impliedly agrees to pay the customary price. in the more important business transactions, formal contracts are written out and signed. in these transactions the parties endeavor to define their duties and obligations clearly and expressly, in order that they may understand each other and in order that neither can dishonestly claim that the contract contains a certain provision or condition. contracts are legal or illegal, void or voidable, depending upon their form and nature. an understanding of the necessary elements of valid contract is the foundation, to the understanding of commercial law. =7. offer, acceptance and agreement.= to constitute a transaction a valid contract, there must be an offer on the one hand, and an acceptance on the other. this necessitates at least two parties to every contract. one must make a proposition, the other must accept it. the acceptance must be of the exact terms of the offer, to constitute a legal acceptance. if the attempted acceptance is not made in the precise terms of the offer, it constitutes a counter offer, which, to constitute a contract must, in turn, be accepted by the original offeror. if _a_ offers _b_ one hundred dollars for _b's_ horse, and _b_ in turn agrees to take one hundred dollars, the transaction constitutes a valid contract. if _a_ offers _b_ one hundred dollars for _b's_ horse, and _b_ in turn offers to sell the horse for one hundred and twenty dollars, the transaction does not constitute a contract, for the reason that _a's_ offer has not been accepted. _b_, however, makes a counter offer, which if not assented to by _a_, constitutes no contract. if, however, _a_ agrees to accept _b's_ offer to sell the horse for one hundred and twenty dollars, this constitutes a valid contract, in which _b_ is the offeror and _a_ the acceptor. these counter offers in response to offers may go on indefinitely without constituting contracts. so long as the response to the offer varies the terms of the offer, it constitutes a counter offer, and not an acceptance. to constitute an acceptance, the exact terms of the offer must be agreed to. courts lay down the principle that there must be a meeting of the minds of the contracting parties, to constitute the transaction a valid contract. this means that the offer must be accepted in its precise terms. the minds of the contracting parties cannot meet, unless the acceptance is of the exact terms of the offer. this principle is sometimes called _mutuality_. an acceptance must be communicated to the offeror. a mere mental operation, or an attempted acceptance, not communicated to the offeror, does not constitute a legal acceptance. the offer, or acceptance, may be in the form of an act as well as by verbal or written communication. if a person orders a barrel of flour of his grocer, the order constitutes the offer, and the delivery of the flour and the receipt of same by the purchaser, constitutes the acceptance. the purchaser is bound to pay the market price for the flour, regardless of the fact that the price has not been mentioned. an offer can be recalled at any time before acceptance. to recall an offer, the offeror must communicate his intention so to do, to the acceptor before acceptance. agreements to hold offers open for a stipulated time are recognized. these options are, in themselves contracts, and to be binding must contain all the essential elements of a contract. an offer which has been accepted constitutes an _agreement_. an agreement, as the word suggests, means a meeting of the minds of two or more parties. the word is frequently used as synonymous with contract, but it is merely an element of a contract. while there must be an agreement in every contract, an agreement of itself does not constitute a contract. there may be an agreement between persons under legal age, but this agreement does not constitute a contract. besides an agreement, or meeting of the minds, a contract must have competent parties, a legal valuable consideration, and a lawful object. these are often called the elements of a contract. =8. parties to a contract.= a contract must have at least two competent parties. each party to a contract may consist of one or more persons. to be competent to make a contract, a party must be of legal age. legal age is twenty-one years for males, and ordinarily, eighteen for females. legal age is fixed by statutes of the different states. these statutes differ somewhat as to the legal age of females. some fix it at twenty-one, others at eighteen, and some even younger than eighteen, in case of marriage. intoxicated persons, insane persons and idiots are not competent to make contracts. artificial persons or corporations can make contracts within the scope of the powers given them by the state. a person who does not voluntarily consent to the terms of a contract is not a party to it. where fraud or duress is used in obtaining a party's consent to a contract, the contract is at least voidable. it is not enforceable if the defrauded party objects on that ground. =9. consideration.= consideration may be _good_ or _valuable_. good consideration consists of love and affection existing between near relations. good consideration is a sufficient consideration to support a deed given by one relative to another. but this is the only kind of contract supported by a good consideration. valuable consideration has been defined to consist of some right, interest, profit or benefit, accruing to the promisor, or some forbearance, detriment, loss or responsibility, given, suffered or undertaken by the party, to whom the promise is given. in short it is a benefit to the promisor, or a detriment to the promisee. all contracts, with the exception of sealed instruments, must be supported by a valuable consideration. sealed instruments, except where abrogated by statute, import a consideration. _a_ promises to sell his watch to _b_ for ten dollars. _b_ accepts the offer by offering to pay _a_ ten dollars. there is a valuable consideration, consisting of _b's_ promise to pay _a_ ten dollars. _a_ promises _b_ two dollars if _b_ will guard _a's_ house for two hours. there may be no actual benefit resulting to _a_, since it may have been unnecessary to have the house guarded. but if _b_ guards the house for two hours, _a_ is legally bound to pay him the contract price of two dollars. the valuable consideration is the detriment or responsibility of _b_ in guarding the house for two hours. mutual promises constitute a valuable consideration. if _a_ promises _b_ two dollars if _b_ will work for him next thursday, and _b_ promises _a_ to work for him next thursday, the contract is mutual, and is supported by a valuable consideration. the consideration consists of the promise on the part of each of the contracting parties. a past consideration will not support a contract. by a past consideration, is meant a benefit received in the past, for which no legal liability was incurred or exists. _a_ gives _b_, his son, five hundred dollars. one year later, in consideration of the past gift, _b_ promises to construct a dam for _a_. the consideration is past and does not support the attempted contract. a consideration, to be valuable and sufficient to support a contract, need not be adequate. a mutual promise, no matter how slight or trivial, or the payment of anything valuable to the promisor, is sufficient. sometimes the inadequacy of the consideration tends to prove fraud in the making of the contract. when it is sought to avoid a contract on the ground of fraud, the inadequacy of the consideration may be considered in connection with the question of fraud. when fraud does not enter into the question, adequacy of the consideration is not questioned. _a_ sells _b_ one hundred acres of land. the deed recites a consideration of one dollar. the deed of transfer is good and the smallness of the sum named does not affect the contract. a promise to do something which one is already legally bound to do does not constitute a valuable consideration to a contract. _a_ owes _b_ one hundred dollars upon a promissory note. the note is past due and _a_ fails to pay it. _a_ promises to pay the note within ten days, on condition that _b_ promise to give _a_ a barrel of apples. _b_ agrees. _a_ cannot compel _b_ to deliver the barrel of apples, nor has _a_ any defense to the payment of the promissory note, since his promise to pay the note was a promise to do something he was already bound to do. an illegal consideration does not support a contract. any consideration contrary to established law is illegal. _a_ promising to pay _b_ one thousand dollars if _b_ will burn _c's_ barn is an example of illegal consideration. =10. express and implied contracts.= some contracts expressly set forth the exact terms and conditions to be performed by both the contracting parties. for example, _a_ makes a contract with _b_, by the terms of which, _b_ is to construct a house for _a_. the contract is carefully prepared in writing, _b_ is to receive five thousand dollars ($5,000.00) when the house is completed, and the contract contains provisions as to the details of the work and materials. such a contract is called an _express contract_ by reason of the terms having been expressly agreed upon by the parties. a contract need not be in writing to be express. the parties may enter into an express contract orally as well. few contracts are made, however, in which some things are not implied. for example, in the contract for the building of a house it is practically impossible, or at least, is impracticable, to set forth in exact detail all the duties of the builder. for example, it would be unnecessary to give the size of the nails and number or quantity of same to be used. the contract impliedly requires the builders to use the proper size and quantity. a contract, however, in which the parties endeavor to set forth the principal things to be done, is known as an express contract. an _implied contract_ is one in which the parties do not expressly agree upon some of the important terms. _a_, a contractor, orders of _b_ one thousand feet (1,000 ft.) of no. 1 white pine ship lap siding. the price is not mentioned. _b_ delivers the lumber and _a_ by implication is obliged to pay _b_ the reasonable value thereof. the greater portion of business contracts are implied. an implied contract should not be confused with uncertain contracts. uncertain contracts are void by reason of their uncertainty. _a_ offers _b_ one thousand dollars for five acres of land. _b_ accepts the offer. in case the parties had no particular five acres of land in mind, the contract is void by reason of this uncertainty. the parties' minds did not meet on the question of what particular piece of land was to be transferred. in most implied contracts the article to be delivered is a part of a large quantity, and the particular part does not matter. articles ordered from stock, such as groceries, shingles, slate, cement and lumber are common examples of this principal. =11. unilateral and bilateral, executory and executed contracts.= the mutuality or meeting of the minds, constituting one of the essential elements of the contract, may result from an express promise for a promise, or from an act performed in response to a promise. _a_ promises to sell his automobile to _b_ on the following day for five thousand dollars ($5,000.00). _b_ promises to pay _a_ five thousand dollars ($5,000.00) the following day. the mutuality consists of the mutual promises of _a_ and _b_. such contracts are known in law as _bilateral_ contracts. _a_ promises to pay _b_ one thousand dollars ($1,000.00) if _b_ will move his house to the rear of _a's_ lot. _b_, without promising to do so, moves the house. this act on the part of _b_ constitutes the acceptance of the contract and completes the mutuality. such contracts are known in law as _unilateral_ contracts. a contract to be performed in the future is known as an _executory_ contract. _a_ promises to pay _b_ seventy-five dollars, if he will work on _a's_ farm during the month of august of the following year. _b_ accepts _a's_ offer and promises to work for _a_ as proposed. the contract is to be performed at a subsequent date, and constitutes an executory contract. an _executed_ contract is one which is performed. _a_ promises to sell his bicycle to _b_ for fifty dollars ($50.00); _b_ pays the fifty dollars ($50.00) to _a_ and receives the bicycle. this contract is executed. a contract may be executed as to one party and executory as to the other. if _a_ agrees to sell and deliver his team of horses to _b_ for five hundred dollars ($500.00) and _b_ pays _a_ five hundred dollars ($500.00) but _a_ does not deliver the team to _b_, the contract is executed as to _b_ and executory as to _a_. =12. contracts of infants.= a person under legal age is known in law as an infant. the legal age is fixed by statute in the different states. in most states this age is twenty-one for males and eighteen for females. in some states the legal age for females is under eighteen in case of marriage. an infant's contracts are voidable. voidable does not mean that the contract is illegal. it is not contrary to law for an infant to make contracts. he may lawfully make them. the law will not compel him to carry them out. he may carry them out voluntarily if he chooses. a competent party, contracting with an infant cannot avoid the contract on the general ground of the infancy of the other party to the contract. the infant, however, may avoid the contract by reason thereof. an infant may ratify his contract after becoming of legal age. this ratification is effected by the infant's accepting benefits under the contract after attaining his majority. ratification may also be effected by an infant after he has reached his majority by promising to carry out the contract. to have such a promise amount to a ratification the infant must make the promise with knowledge that he may avoid the contract if he chooses. an infant is liable on his contracts for necessaries. _necessaries_ is a variable term, depending upon the social position of the infant. those articles essential to the health and sometimes to the comfort of the infant are considered necessaries. food and clothing are the most common examples. a person selling an infant necessaries, cannot recover in excess of their reasonable value regardless of the contract price, and cannot recover at all, if the infant is already supplied. most courts hold that a party selling necessaries to an infant must determine at his peril that the infant is not supplied. articles which would be luxuries for one infant, might be necessaries for an infant accustomed to wealth. an infant is not entitled to his wages unless he has been emancipated. the father or guardian is entitled to the wages. emancipation may be by written declaration to that effect, on the part of the father. it may also be implied from the refusal or failure on the part of the father to treat the infant as his child. =13. novation and contracts for the benefit of third persons.= if _a_ owes _b_ one hundred dollars ($100.00) and _b_ owes _c_ one hundred dollars ($100.00), the three parties may agree that _a_ may pay _c_ one hundred dollars ($100.00), discharging the indebtedness of both _a_ and _b_. this contract is valid in law, and is called _novation_. much of our common or unwritten law was taken from the common law of england. the common law of england did not permit a third party, for whose benefit a contract was made, to enforce the contract. for example, if _a_ and _b_ enter into a contract by which _a_ is to pay _c_ some money, _c_ cannot enforce the contract. this kind of a contract is commonly known as a contract for the benefit of a third person. with a few exceptions, the states of this country refuse to follow the english doctrine. the general american doctrine is that a third party may enforce a contract made for his benefit. for example, _a_, a furniture dealer was indebted to _b_ for a bill of goods; _c_ purchased _a's_ business, and in a formal written contract, as part of the consideration, agreed to pay _b_ the amount of _a's_ bill. after the transfer of the business, _a_ became insolvent and _b_, learning of the contract between _a_ and _c_, sued _c_ thereon and was permitted to recover. the general american doctrine will not permit two parties, making a contract for the benefit of a third, to rescind or avoid the contract after the third party has been notified of it, and has assented thereto. of course, two parties cannot bind a third party to perform any condition of a contract without his consent. this would violate some of the fundamental principles of contracts. there would be no consent, no meeting of the minds, and sometimes no consideration. =14. contracts of insane persons, idiots, and drunkards.= an insane person, or one that does not understand the nature of the contract in question, is not bound by his contracts. he may avoid them. like an infant, he may ratify them when he becomes sane, if he chooses. statutes of all the states provide for the determination of insanity by judicial decree. such a judicial determination is presumed to give notice to all. an idiot's contracts are the same as an insane person's. a drunkard can avoid a contract made while he was intoxicated, and if the drunkenness amounts to insanity, it is regarded in law as such. contracts made by a drunkard when not drunk, or by a lunatic during a lucid interval are valid and binding. =15. contracts of married women.= at common law, upon marriage, the wife lost her legal identity in her husband. her estate became his, her personal property became his, and she could not thereafter enter into any legal obligation. the statutes of the states generally at the present time permit a married woman to contract as independently as a man, relative to her separate estate. in some states there are a few limitations, such as contracting directly with her husband or as surety for her husband. =16. custom and usage as part of a contract.= parties may enter into any contracts they choose, so long as the terms are legal. if parties expressly agree, either orally or verbally, on the precise terms of a contract, these terms cannot be varied by usage or custom. usage and custom may be used, however, to explain the intent of the parties. merchants and traders recognize various trade customs, without which it would be impossible to interpret their contracts. for example, _a_ ordered five thousand barrels of cement of _b_, at eighty-five cents a barrel, to be delivered in sacks f. o. b. mill. in a suit for the purchase price, the court permitted _b_ to show that there was a well-known custom in the cement trade to add to the invoices forty cents per barrel for sacks, making the invoice selling price of the cement and sacks one dollar and twenty-five cents ($1.25) per barrel. to constitute a part of the contract, usage and custom must be of such a general nature as to be considered within the contemplation of the parties. =17. contracts in writing.= parties may make contracts verbally, as well as in writing. a contract is not illegal because it is verbal. it is good business policy to make important contracts in writing. their terms are easily proven. there is not the temptation to attempt to vary the terms. parties cannot claim they did not understand each other. it may be laid down as a general rule that oral contracts are as legal as written ones. by the term, _legal_ is meant that the law does not prohibit them. parties may lawfully make oral contracts, and carry them out if they choose. some contracts, however, are not enforceable at law unless in writing. these contracts are legal. parties may lawfully make them and voluntarily carry them out, but they cannot invoke the aid of the law in enforcing their terms. =18. statute of frauds.= the class of contracts, required by law to be in writing in order that they be enforceable, is said to be within the statute of frauds. the statute of frauds originated in england in 1677. it was passed for the purpose of preventing frauds and perjuries. it required that certain important contracts must be made in writing, in order to be enforceable at law. the purpose of the statute was to remove the temptation of fraud and perjury in connection with the making and enforcing of certain contracts. two sections of the english statute apply especially to contracts; the fourth and the seventeenth. the fourth section is as follows: "no action shall be brought whereby to charge any executor or administrator, upon any special promise to answer damages out of his own estate; or whereby to charge the defendant upon any special promise, to answer for the debt, default, or miscarriage of another person; or to charge any person upon any agreement made upon consideration of marriage; or any contract or sale of lands, tenements or hereditaments, or any interest in or concerning them; or upon any agreement that is not to be performed within the space of one year from the making thereof; unless the agreement upon which such action shall be brought, or some memorandum or note thereof shall be in writing and signed by the party to be charged therewith, or some other person thereunto by him lawfully authorized." the seventeenth section of the english statute of frauds is as follows: "no contract for the sale of any goods, wares, or merchandise for the price of ten pounds sterling or upwards, shall be allowed to be good except the buyer shall accept part of the goods so sold, and actually receive the same, or give something in earnest to bind the bargain, or in part payment, or some note or memorandum in writing of the said bargain, be made and signed by the parties to be charged by such contract or their agents thereunto lawfully authorized." the english statute of frauds has been enacted in substance in all the states. reduced to single propositions the statute provides: 1. that an executor or administrator shall not be bound by contract to pay damages out of his own estate, unless the contract be in writing. for example, _a_ is executor of _b's_ estate. _c_ is a creditor of _b_. _a_ orally promises _c_ to pay _b's_ debt. this contract is not enforceable because not in writing. 2. a party promising to answer for the debt, default or miscarriage of another, shall not be bound unless the contract is in writing. for example, if _a_ owes _b_ $100 and _c_ promises _b_ to pay _a's_ debt, the contract is not enforceable if not in writing. this clause of the statute is discussed more at length in the chapter on suretyship. 3. a contract made in consideration of marriage is not enforceable unless made in writing. for example, _a_ orally promised _b_ that if he would marry her, she would convey to him her farm. _b_ married _a_, but could not enforce the contract. a promise to marry is not within this section of the statute. 4. any contract or sale of lands must be in writing to be enforceable. for example, _a_ orally promises _b_ to sell his house and lot for ten thousand dollars ($10,000.00). the contract is not enforceable. most of the states do not require that leases of less than a year's duration be in writing, to be enforceable. 5. an agreement, not to be performed within the space of one year, must be in writing to be enforceable. for example, _a_ orally promises to work for _b_ as sales agent for three years. this contract is not enforceable. 6. no contract for the sale of goods the price of which exceeds fifty dollars ($50.00) shall be enforceable unless made in writing. this provision of the english statute has not been reënacted by all the states. about half the states do not require that contracts for the sale of personal property shall be in writing, regardless of the price involved. some of the states fix the price as high as two hundred dollars ($200.00) and others, as low as thirty dollars ($30.00). the details of the entire contract need not be in writing to satisfy the provisions of the statute. a memorandum embodying the substance of the agreement, showing the consideration, and signed by the party to be bound, or by his authorized agent, is sufficient. contracts called _specialties_, have to be in writing, regardless of the statute of frauds. the most common examples are bills and notes, drafts and checks. these special contracts are made to circulate as money, and must be reduced to writing to be enforceable. there can be no such thing as an oral check, or draft, or promissory note. the oral contract for which they are given may be enforced, if not within the provisions of the statute of frauds. =19. contracts by correspondence and telegraph.= parties need not meet personally to enter into contracts. they may legally make them by telegraph or by letter. it is well settled by the courts that a party may make an offer by letter, and that in so doing he impliedly gives the party addressed, the right to accept by letter. in law, the contract is complete the moment the letter of acceptance is mailed, regardless of its ever being received. the offeror may stipulate in his offer by letter, that the contract shall not be made until he is in receipt of a reply. in this event, the acceptor's letter must actually be received by the offerer, before the contract is complete. but if no such stipulation is made, the contract is complete when the letter of acceptance is mailed. if no time for acceptance is stipulated in the offerer's letter, the acceptor has a reasonable time in which to accept. what is a reasonable time, depends upon the nature of the transaction, and the circumstances surrounding it. if the offeror stipulates in his letter that the offer must be accepted by any stipulated time, the offer, of itself, lapses at the expiration of that time. if _a_ mails a letter to _b_, offering to sell one hundred bushels of wheat for one hundred dollars ($100.00), and the following day _b_ mails a letter, properly addressed, postage prepaid, to _a_, accepting the offer, and the letter is lost, the contract is complete and _b_ may recover from _a_ thereon. if _a_, by letter offers to sell _b_ one hundred bushels of wheat for one hundred dollars ($100.00), the offer to remain open until thursday, and _b_ mails his letter of acceptance wednesday, and the letter is lost, the contract is binding and _a_ is liable thereon. if _a_ by letter offers to sell _b_ one hundred bushels of wheat for one hundred dollars ($100.00), the offer to be accepted upon receipt of _b's_ reply, and _b's_ reply is lost in the mails, there is no contract. =20. revocation.= it is a well recognized principle of contracts that an offer may be revoked, or withdrawn, at any time before acceptance. in case of revocation by mail, however, the letter of revocation must be received by the acceptor, before he has mailed his letter of acceptance. for example, _a_ mails _b_ a letter offering to sell _b_ one hundred bushels of wheat for one hundred dollars ($100.00). _b_ mails his letter of acceptance. by the next mail _b_ receives a letter of revocation. the contract is valid since the letter of revocation was not received, until after the letter of acceptance was mailed. the only offers that cannot be withdrawn at any time before acceptance, are what are known in law as _options_. options are contracts to keep an offer open for a stipulated length of time. they require a consideration, an agreement and all the elements of an ordinary contract. they are contracts. _a_ agrees by letter to sell _b_ one hundred bushels of wheat, and to keep the offer open three days. on the second day, and before _b_ has mailed his acceptance, _b_ receives a letter from _a_, by which _a_ withdraws his offer. _b_ cannot now accept _a's_ offer, since there was no consideration for _a's_ promise to keep the offer open three days. _a_ writes _b_, offering to sell him one hundred bushels of wheat for one hundred dollars ($100.00), and to keep the offer open for ten days. _b_ writes _a_ that he will give him $2.00 if he will keep the offer open ten days. _a_ accepts the offer. on the sixth day _b_ receives a letter from _a_ revoking the offer to sell, and on the following day _b_ mails his letter of acceptance. there is a valid contract in this case, since _b_ had a contract with _a_ based on a valuable consideration to keep the offer open ten days. contracts by telegraph are analogous in principle to contracts by letter. an offer by telegraph impliedly authorizes the receiver to accept by telegraph and the offer is accepted when the reply message is deposited with the operator. if lost, or not sent, the contract is not affected in the least. =21. contracts under seal.= formerly, at common law, contracts under seal were frequent. at the present time few contracts are made under seal. originally a seal was an impression made in wax placed on a written document. sealed instruments differ from other written instruments in that they import a consideration. at common law, no consideration need be proven to a sealed instrument. formerly, private seals were in common use. later, a scroll made with the pen or a line or any mark designated as a seal was sufficient. private seals have been abolished by statute in many of the states, so that their use is now limited. the modern tendency is not to use sealed instruments, or when used, to regard them as different in no respect from other contracts. =22. sunday contracts.= all the states of this country have statutes prohibiting the transaction of business on sunday. these statutes are based on "the lord's day act" of england. the english statute provides that persons shall not do or exercise any worldly labor, business or work of their ordinary callings, upon the lord's day, or any part thereof, works of necessity and charity only excepted. while the statutes of the different states differ in details, they are based upon the english statutes. under the english statute, it is difficult to determine in many cases what constitute "works of necessity and charity." the duties of clergymen, physicians and of nurses clearly are covered. it is sometimes stated that a person cannot make contracts, within the ordinary scope of his customary business, on sunday. this is true, if it does not relate to charity or necessity. deeds, notes and ordinary contracts, made and delivered on sunday are void. subscriptions for church funds may legally be made on sunday. =23. illegal contracts.= a contract prohibited by law, or made for the purpose of doing something prohibited by law, is illegal, and void. if _a_ promises _b_ one hundred dollars ($100.00) if _b_ will poison _c's_ horse, the contract is contrary to law and illegal. if _b_ poisons _c's_ horse, he cannot recover the one hundred dollars ($100.00) from _a_. contracts which are against public policy are illegal and void. public policy means the public welfare. marriage brokerage contracts and contracts in restraint of trade come within this provision. lobbying contracts, contracts to influence votes, and for railroad rebates are against public policy and void. =24. wagering or gambling contracts.= in england, at common law, wagering or gambling contracts were valid. gambling contracts were recognized as legal by some of the states at one time. at the present time, by statute the states declare gambling contracts illegal and void. a contract for the sale of goods, to be delivered in the future, even though the seller does not have possession of the goods at the time the contract of sale is made, but expects to purchase them from a third person, is not regarded as a gambling contract, and is valid. contracts for the purchase of stocks or goods in which there is no expectation to deliver, but simply an agreement to pay the difference in price at a certain date according to the state of the market, are gambling contracts, and void. =25. fraud and duress.= fraud may be said to be misrepresentation of a material fact, known by the party making the misrepresentation to be false, and made for the purpose of influencing the other party to the contract, and acted upon by the other party to his detriment. for example, _a_ offers to sell _b_ a horse for two hundred and fifty dollars ($250.00). he tells _b_ the horse is sound, knowing that the horse has a disease which renders him worthless. he makes the representation of soundness for the purpose of inducing _b_ to buy. _b_ relies upon the representation, purchases the horse, and afterwards discovers the worthless condition of the horse. _b_ can return the horse and recover the purchase price. this is known as rescinding a contract on the ground of fraud. a fraudulent contract is not void, but voidable. the defrauded party may avoid the contract if he chooses, but the contract itself, is not without effect, simply by reason of the fraud. a mere failure to disclose facts or conditions, if not accompanied by active measures to distract the defrauded party's attention from the thing to be concealed, ordinarily does not amount to fraud. if one party by means of threatened or actual violence compels another to enter into a contract, or to part with something of value, the contract is said to have been obtained by duress. such contracts may be avoided by the injured party, who may recover what he has lost. _a_, a police officer, wrongfully arrests and imprisons _b_ and releases him only after _b_ has signed a promissory note for one hundred dollars ($100.00). _a_ cannot recover on the note. _a_, who is superior in physical strength to _b_, by threats of personal violence, compels _b_ to admit that he is indebted to _a_ for one hundred dollars ($100.00), which _b_ pays _a_. _b_ may recover the money from _a_. the contract is voidable on account of duress. =26. mistake.= one of the essential elements of a contract is that there must be a meeting of the minds of the contracting parties. if there is a mutual mistake on the part of the contracting parties, their minds do not meet and no contract results. _a_ offers to sell _b_ his farm for five thousand dollars ($5,000.00). _a_ has two farms. _a_ has one in mind, and _b_ the other. their minds do not meet and there is no contract. a mistake as to the legal effect of a contract does not avoid it. this is known as a mistake of law. a mistake on the part of one of the parties only, ordinarily does not avoid the contract. =27. impossible contracts.= parties may enter into any kind of a contract they choose, so long as the provisions and conditions are legal. as a general rule, a party is liable in damages to the other party, for failure to observe and carry out the terms of his contract. there is, however, a class of contracts, known in law as impossible contracts. many contracts are made upon the assumption that the persons making the contract, or the particular thing under consideration will continue to exist until the contract is performed. _a_ agrees to paint a picture for _b_, for one thousand dollars ($1,000). _a_ fails in health or dies. _a_ or his estate, is not responsible in damages to _b_, since the contract contemplated _a's_ remaining in health and life. _a_ agrees to make _b_ a chair out of a particular piece of walnut lumber. the lumber is destroyed by fire through no fault of _a_. _a_ is not liable in damages, since the parties contemplated the continued existence of the lumber. if, however, _a_ contracts to build _b_ a walnut chair within ten days for fifty dollars ($50.00) and his factory and walnut lumber are destroyed by fire, _a_ is answerable to _b_ in damages, for failure to deliver the chair. he has entered into a lawful contract, and has not excepted liability on account of fire. a contract for personal services is rendered of no effect by the failure of health, or by death of the party, who is to perform the services. where, however, the contract provides for the doing of a certain specific thing, not to be performed by a certain person, and not depending upon the continued existence of a certain thing, the parties are bound to perform, regardless of accident. floods, earthquakes or lightning do not excuse performance. these accidents are known in law as _acts of god_. (see _acts of god_ chapter on carriers.) acts of god do not excuse performance unless expressly provided against in the contract. a law changed after the contract is made, making it unlawful to perform the contract, excuses performance. strikes do not render it impossible to perform contracts, within contemplation of the law. if a party desires to become exempt from performance by reason of strikes, he must put such a provision in his contract. if the party to the contract, to whom the performance is due, renders performance impossible for the other party, the latter is excused on the ground of impossibility. for example, _a_ contracts to do the wood finishing on _b's_ house within six months, _b_ to construct the masonry work. _b_ fails to construct the masonry work; this exempts _a_ from liability. =28. conflict of laws.= the laws of different states differ in some particulars. where this difference affects the interpretation or enforcement of a contract, the doctrine of conflict of law applies. if a contract is valid in the state where made, it is usually valid everywhere. this rule is subject to the limitation that a state will not enforce a contract clearly against the policy of its own laws. if a contract is made in one state, to be performed in another, the laws of the latter apply. otherwise, the laws of the state where the contract is made apply. the laws relating merely to the court procedure or the method of enforcing a contract, belong to the state called upon to enforce the contract, and, even though the laws of the state where the contract was made differ, the former will apply. the laws of new york permit an express company to limit its liability for loss of goods to fifty dollars ($50.00), if so stipulated in the bill of lading, in case no valuation is fixed by the shipper. the laws of ohio do not permit an express company to limit its liability in this way. _a_, in new york, shipped goods valued at four hundred dollars ($400.00) to _b_, in cleveland. _a_ placed no valuation on the goods and accepted a receipt limiting the liability of the express company for loss of the goods, to fifty dollars ($50.00). the goods were lost. _b_ sued the express company in ohio for the value of the goods. the court held that the law of ohio held, since, by the terms of the contract, the goods were to be delivered in ohio. =29. assignments of contracts.= by assignment of a contract, is meant the transfer of one's property rights in the contract. one cannot assign his duties under a contract. for example, _a_ contracts with _b_ to have the latter build him a house, for five thousand dollars ($5,000.00). _b_ cannot transfer to another, the obligation on his part to construct the house. _b_, may, however, transfer to another, his right to recover the money for the house. _a_ may also transfer to another, his right to have the house constructed. contracts for personal service such as the painting of a picture, or the writing of a book, cannot be assigned. in such cases the personal work of a particular person is contracted for and cannot be transferred. an assignment of a contract is a contract for the sale of a property benefit of a contract. the assignment must contain all the elements of a simple contract. the assignor of a contract can transfer only such property rights as he possesses. the other party to the contract retains any defense against the assignee, which he had against the assignor. _a_ agrees to build a house for _b_, for five thousand dollars ($5,000.00), according to certain plans. _a_ constructs the house with variations, subjecting him to a reduction in price of five hundred dollars ($500.00). _a_ assigns his rights in the contract to _c_ and _c_ can compel _a_ to pay him only four thousand five hundred dollars ($4,500.00). the defense of _b_ against _a_ is good against _a's_ assignee, _c_. upon assigning a contract, the assignor or assignee must notify the other party to the contract, of the assignment, else payment to the assignor will discharge the other party. for example, _a_ owes _b_ one hundred dollars ($100.00). _b_ assigns the claim to _c_. _c_ does not notify _a_ of the assignment and _a_ pays _b_. _b_ is insolvent and _c_ cannot recover from him. _c_ cannot recover from _a_, since _a_ has received no notice of the assignment. the following is a recognized legal form of assignment. for valuable consideration, i hereby assign all my right, title and interest in the annexed (account, contract, or whatever the instrument may be) to______ _____________________ signature of assignor. date_____________ =30. joint and several liability in contracts.= if _a_ makes a contract with _b_, only two parties are bound by the contract and are liable for its breach. if _a_ and _b_ contract with _c_ and _d_, four parties are bound and are liable. _a_ and _b_ may be liable as one party to _c_ and _d_, or they may be liable as two parties to _c_ and _d_. if the contract shows by its terms that _a_ and _b_ contract as a unit, and not as separate individuals, their contract is said to be _joint_. if the terms of the contract show that _a_ and _b_ intend to contract as individuals, as well as a unit, their contract is said to be _joint_ and _several_. if the terms of the contract show that _a_ and _b_ intend to contract as individuals only, and not as a unit, their liability is said to be _several_. the importance of this distinction is that in case of a joint obligation, all the joint obligors must be joined when sued, else the case may be dismissed if objection is made; while in case of a joint and several obligation, or of a several obligation, individual obligors may be sued separately. a promissory note reads, "we promise to pay" and is signed by _a_ and _b_. this is a joint obligation, and in a suit thereon _a_ and _b_ must be joined, or the one sued may have the case dismissed, by reason thereof. if, however, judgment is rendered against both, and they hold no joint property, the creditor may enforce his judgment against either. this is known in law as, _liability in solido_. a promissory note reads, "we or either of us jointly and severally promise to pay," and is signed by _a_ and _b_. _a_ and _b_ are severally, as well as jointly liable, and may be sued separately. where two or more parties sign a contract, binding themselves to do one thing of a series of things, the law presumes the obligation to be joint. if the language used shows, that the parties singly, or individually bind themselves to do the thing, or series of things in common, the contract is several, as well as joint. _a_ owes _b_ three hundred dollars ($300.00) upon a promissory note. _c_, _d_ and _e_ sign the following guaranty: if _a_ fails to pay the note when due, _c_ individually promises to pay _b_ one hundred dollars ($100.00), _d_ individually promises to pay _b_ one hundred dollars ($100.00), _e_ individually promises to pay _b_ one hundred dollars ($100.00). as to each other _c_, _d_ and _e_, are severally liable. as to _b_,--_c_, _d_ and _e_ respectively are jointly and severally liable, with _a_ for one hundred dollars ($100.00) each. =31. discharge of contract by performance and tender.= a contract is terminated, when the parties thereto perform its provisions. the liability of parties ceases by performance of the provisions of the contract. _a_ promises to construct a house for _b_, according to certain specifications, within a year. _b_ promises to pay _a_ five thousand dollars ($5,000.00), upon completion of the house according to contract. _a_, within a year, constructs the house according to the plans and specifications. _a's_ obligation is at an end. _b's_ obligation still requires him to pay _a_ five thousand dollars ($5,000.00), and he is liable to a suit for this amount until it is paid. when _b_ pays _a_ five thousand dollars ($5,000.00), his obligation and the contract are terminated, as to both parties. tender of payment is equivalent in law to payment. by _tender_ is meant an offer to pay in recognized legal money. _a_ has an option for the purchase of a house of _b_, for five thousand dollars ($5,000.00). _b_ desires to have the option lapse, having obtained a better offer. if _a_ offers _b_ legal tender before the option expires, the contract is complete in law. united states statutes stipulate what constitute legal tender. these statutes provide that the following shall constitute legal tender: 1. gold coin. 2. silver dollars. 3. subsidary silver coin up to ten dollars. 4. nickels and pennies not exceeding twenty-five cents. 5. united states notes, except for duties on imports, and interest on public debts. silver certificates, bank notes and private checks are not legal tender. =32. discharge of contract by subsequent agreement.= contracts may be terminated by another contract, made after the contract in question has been entered into. for example, _a_ promises to construct, within one year, a house according to certain plans, for _b_. _b_ promises to pay _a_ five thousand dollars ($5,000.00), upon completion of the house. _a_ completes the excavation of the cellar and _b_ fails in business, and desires not to have the house constructed. he offers _a_ five hundred dollars ($500.00), for the work already done, and to release him from his obligation. _a_ accepts _b's_ proposition. the original contract has been terminated by the subsequent one. =33. warranty and remedies for breach of warranty.= a _warranty_ is a contract collateral to the principal contract, by which a party to a contract specifically covenants certain things. warranties apply especially to sales of personal property. (see _warranty_ under sales of personal property.) _a_ promises to build a house for _b_ and warrants the paint to stand untarnished and uncracked for one year. the covenant on _a's_ part relating to the paint is a warranty. breach of warranty ordinarily does not entitle the other party to rescind the contract. that is, it does not permit him to refuse to carry out his part of the contract, but entitles him to bring an action for damages, for its breach. =34. recission and discharge of contracts by breach.= if a party fails or refuses to carry out a provision of a contract, he is said to have committed a _breach of contract_. when one party to a contract commits a breach, the other party may accept the breach and sue for damages, or he may refuse to accept the breach and wait until the time for complete performance arrives, and then, if the other party has not performed, sue for damages. when a party to a contract commits a breach, and notifies the other party of his refusal further to carry out the contract, the other party cannot increase the defaulting party's damages by continuing performance thereafter. for example, _a_ contracts with _b_ to have a fence finished and erected around _a's_ house. after _b_ has half of the fence manufactured and erected, _a_ refuses to go on with the contract. _b_ cannot increase the damages by manufacturing and erecting the balance of the fence. the reason for this is that it would not benefit _b_ at all, but would merely injure _a_. _b_ is entitled to recover his profit for the entire job, when _a_ breaks the contract. he could recover no more by manufacturing and erecting the balance of the fence. the law does not recognize trivial things. a party cannot claim breach of contract for failure of the opposite party to a contract, to perform an unimportant thing. the law recognizes substantial performance as actual performance. this does not mean that a party cannot put such terms in a contract as he chooses, but means that, in the absence of any provisions of the contract to the contrary, a party is not presumed by law to contract for trivial things. time of performance is an illustration of this principle. _a_ contracts with _b_ for the building of a house. _b_ promises to complete it in one year. if completed in one year and a day, there is a substantial performance, unless the contract expressly shows that the precise day of performance was regarded as important. where contracts provide for separate performances, a failure or refusal to fulfil one performance will not always amount to a refusal or failure to perform the balance. _a_ agrees to ship _b_ five thousand barrels of cement, in car load lots of one hundred and fifty barrels each to be shipped each week. _b_ receives and refuses to pay for the first car. this may not amount to a breach of the entire contract, so as to justify _a_ in refusing to ship the balance. the tendency of american courts, however, is to treat this as as one contract; that is to treat the promises as dependent, and not independent. the acceptance by one party, of a breach of contract made by the other, and the refusal on the part of the former further to carry out the contract, is known in law as _recission_. to rescind a contract, a party must return what he has received thereunder, called putting the other party _in statu quo_. he must also accept the breach promptly. for example, _a_ promises to sell _b_ three horses to be delivered one each day, upon the three following days. _a_ delivers one and fails to deliver the second. to rescind the contract, _b_ must return promptly to _a_ the horse already delivered. he may then sue _a_ for damages suffered. if _b_ does not promptly return the horse to _a_, he must permit _a_ to go on with the contract, waiving the delay, or pay for the horse already delivered, less damages for _a's_ breach of contract. =35. discharge by bankruptcy.= by a united states' statute, certain persons may become bankrupts and thereby be discharged from their obligations. by the terms of this act, the bankrupt's property is turned over to an officer, called a trustee in bankruptcy who disposes of it, and distributes it _pro rata_ among the bankrupt's creditors. any person except a corporation, who owes debts, may become a voluntary bankrupt. the united states statute further provides that certain persons may be declared bankrupts at the instance of their creditors. the united states statute provides that: "any natural person, except a wage earner, or a person engaged chiefly in farming or the tillage of the soil, any unincorporated company and any corporation engaged principally in manufacturing, trading, printing, publishing, mining or mercantile pursuits, owing debts to the amount of one thousand dollars ($1,000.00) or over, may be adjudged an involuntary bankrupt, upon default, or on impartial trial and shall be subject to the provisions and entitled to the benefits of this act. private bankers, but not national banks or banks incorporated under state or territorial laws may be adjudged involuntary bankrupts." any of the above enumerated parties may be made an involuntary bankrupt at the instance of creditors if he has committed an act of bankruptcy. the bankruptcy statute defines an act of bankruptcy as follows: "acts of bankruptcy by a person shall consist of his having (1) conveyed, transferred concealed or removed, or permitted to be concealed or removed, any part of his property with intent to hinder, delay or defraud his creditors or any of them; (2) transferred, while insolvent any portion of his property to one or more of his creditors with intent to prefer such creditors over his other creditors; or (3) suffered or permitted, while insolvent, any creditor to obtain a preference through legal proceedings and not having at least five days before a sale or final disposition of any property affected by such preference vacated or discharged such preference; or (4) made a general assignment for the benefit of his creditors, or being insolvent, applied for a receiver or trustee for his property, or because of insolvency a receiver or trustee has been put in charge of his property under the laws of a state, of a territory, or of the united states; or (5) admitted in writing his inability to pay his debts, and his willingness to be adjudged a bankrupt on that ground." bankruptcy discharges a bankrupt from his contracts. =36. remedies for breach of contract.= originally, at common law, there was no power given a party to a contract, to compel the other party specifically to perform the provisions of the contract. for example, _a_ promises to pay _b_ one thousand dollars ($1,000.00) for one thousand bushels of wheat, to be delivered within ten days. _b_ fails and refuses to deliver the wheat. _a_ could not at common law, and cannot under the present rules of law, compel _b_ to deliver the wheat. _a's_ remedy is an action for damages. _a_ may go into the market at the time and place of delivery, provided for in the contract, and purchase one thousand bushels of wheat of the quality provided for in the contract, and collect as damages from _b_ the advance in price, if any, together with expenses connected therewith. if _a_ is obliged to pay one thousand five hundred dollars ($1,500.00) for the wheat, which by the terms of the contract, he had purchased for one thousand dollars ($1,000.00) from _b_, he may recover five hundred dollars ($500.00) damages from _b_. if _a_ succeeds in obtaining the wheat for nine hundred dollars ($900.00), he can only recover nominal damages from _b_, commonly five cents, for breach of contract. in case _a_ obtains the wheat for nine hundred dollars ($900.00), _b_ cannot recover one hundred dollars ($100.00) from _a_, since he has violated the contract, and cannot take advantage of his own wrong. parties frequently fix the amount of damages for a possible breach at the time the contract is made. this is known in law as _liquidated_ damages. if reasonably compensatory, the courts will recognize and enforce liquidated damages; if clearly unreasonable they are regarded as penal, and the courts will not enforce them. for example, _a_ agrees to construct a rolling mill for _b_, for fifty thousand dollars ($50,000.00), and to complete the structure within one year, and to pay damages of two hundred dollars ($200.00) per day, for each and every day consumed, in excess of a year in finishing the structure. if this is a reasonable loss to _b_, for the failure to have the use of the mill, the courts will enforce the provisions; otherwise they will remit the excess over the fair value of _b's_ loss. =37. equity and specific performance.= originally, at common law in england, the king and his subordinates heard suits. certain specified actions or remedies, only, were allowed. it was soon observed that many complaints were made, and disputes arose, which did not come within the scope of these common law actions. the king appointed a chancellor to assist him. it was the duty of the chancellor to hear disputes, not within the scope of the recognized common law action, and to determine and decide these upon equitable principles. this court became known as the court of _chancery_, or court of _equity_. a regular system of courts of chancery grew up in england, with fixed rules of procedure and of recovery. this country has courts of equity. in many states, the same judge sits as a court of law, and of equity. equity does not hear cases where there is a complete and adequate remedy at law. equity courts have a judge only, and no jury. courts of equity sometimes specifically enforce contracts in case there is no adequate remedy at law. for example, _a_ purchases a lot of _b_ in a particularly desirable locality. there is no other vacant lot near it. in case _b_, refuses to carry out his contract, by conveying this lot to _a_, equity will compel _b_ to convey the lot to _a_. here _a_ has no adequate remedy at law. money damages will not enable him to procure what he contracted for. specific performance is rarely granted in case of sales of personal or chattel property. there are a few exceptions. if _a_ purchases "maud s." from _b_ for ten thousand dollars ($10,000.00), "maud s." being a two minute race horse, purchased for breeding purposes, and _b_ refuses to deliver her, a court of equity might grant specific performance. money damages might not enable _a_ to purchase a similar horse. the same principle applies in case of purchases of rare works of art. while a contract for personal services cannot be specifically enforced by a court of equity, some relief may be granted by injunction. for example, _a_, an actress, agrees to perform for one year for _b_ and later refuses. while a court manifestly cannot compel _a_ to perform for _b_, it will by injunction prevent her performing for others. =38. forms of contracts.= the following is a form of simple contract. chicago, ill., june 23, 1909. contract entered into this.... day of........ 1909, by and between _a_, the first party, and _b_, the second party. in consideration of the promises hereinafter made by the second party, the first party agrees........ (here state first party agreement). in consideration of the promises of the first party, the second party agrees........ (here state agreement of second party). signed............. first party. signed............. second party. the following is a form of a formal contract. articles of agreement entered into in new york city this.......day of.... 190-by and between _a_, hereinafter designated as the first party, and _b_, hereinafter designated as the second party. whereas, the first party is a wholesale dry goods merchant having a place of business in new york city, and is desirous of employing a traveling salesman, and whereas, the second party is a traveling salesman having had ten years' experience in the dry goods business, now, therefore in consideration of the promises hereinafter made by the second party the first party agrees, first. to pay the second party the sum of $2400 in installments of $200 payable each month for a period of 12 months. second. to pay the second party's traveling expenses not to exceed $50.00 per week, to be mailed weekly as ordered by second party. third. to furnish second party a full line of samples. in consideration of the promises of the first party the second party agrees, first. to devote his entire time and attention to the business of selling goods of the first party. second. to furnish lists of customers called upon each day, said lists to be mailed to said first party, new york address, each evening. third. to waive his right to any salary in excess of his traveling expenses if his sales do not average $5000 per week. in witness whereof the parties have affixed their names and seals in duplicate the day and year above written. .............first party. .............second party. principal and agent =39. in general.= _agency_ is the term applied to the legal relation existing between persons who transact business or perform duties through representatives. few duties are performed, and few business transactions are completed solely through the personal efforts of the interested parties. most business dealings are completed in part, at least, by representatives or agents. much important business is transacted by corporations. corporations must act through agents. they have no identity apart from officers and agents. individuals, as well as the smaller business concerns, perform many of their duties and make many of their contracts through representatives or agents. the law relating to agency, next to the law of contracts is probably the broadest as well as the most important branch of commercial law. its application is almost universal. a distinction is sometimes drawn between representatives appointed to make contracts with third persons, and representatives appointed to perform menial or mechanical work, by calling the one class, agents, and the other servants. there is little reason for any such distinction. the same rules of law apply to both agents and servants. the principal distinction is in the nature of the service, which need not be considered in discussing the general legal principles. the party appointing another to represent him in his relation to third persons is called the _principal_. the person appointed to act as a representative is called the _agent_. the legal relationship existing between the principal and the agent, and the principal, agent and third person, constitutes the _law of agency_. if a dry goods merchant, _a_, employs _b_, a traveling salesman, to sell his goods, and _b_ sells goods to _c_, _a_ is the principal, _b_ the agent, and _c_, the third person contracting with _a_, through _a's_ agent _b_. =40. who may be a principal.= a principal is one who appoints an agent. _a_, employs _b_ to deliver goods; _a_ is principal and _b_ agent. any person, natural or otherwise, competent to enter into a contract, may enter into a contract through an agent. there is one possible exception to this rule. it is a well recognized rule of law that an infant cannot appoint an agent. an infant may enter into a contract which is not void at law, but which is merely voidable. (see subject, "infant" in chapter on contracts.) that is, an infant may lawfully make and carry out a contract. the law does not prohibit it. but the law will not compel an infant to carry out his contracts, except for necessaries. when it comes to the appointment of an agent, however, the law refuses to give an infant this power. by an infant is meant a person under legal age. any person of legal capacity may appoint an agent. in other words, a person may do through an agent the things he, himself, may do. an insane person, an idiot or a drunken person cannot appoint an agent. a corporation may do business through agents, limited only by its corporate capacity. a partnership may do business through agents, limited only by the purposes for which the partnership is formed. =41. who may be an agent.= any one, except a very young child and persons whose interests are opposed to those of the principal, may act as agent. a child may be employed to deliver goods, and thus make and complete contracts for his principal. persons of unsound mind may serve as agents. persons who cannot act as principal, through lack of capacity to contract, may act as agent for others. for example, _a_, fourteen years old, cannot be bound by a contract with _b_ for the purchase of one hundred bushels of wheat, but _a_ may be employed as agent by _c_, a competent person, to purchase of _b_ one hundred bushels of wheat. a person whose interests are opposed to those of his principal is disqualified from acting as agent. that is, a person cannot be agent for both parties to the same transaction. for example, if _a_ is employed as traveling salesman by _b_ to sell goods, he cannot serve as agent for _c_ in the purchase of goods from _b_ without the knowledge and consent of both _b_ and _c_. artificial persons, such as partnerships and corporations, may act as agents. it is usually held that children under seven years of age cannot act as agents, by reason of tender age. =42. how agents may be appointed.= agents may be appointed by any act of the principal which shows that it is the principal's will that the agent shall act as the principal's representative. agents may be appointed by oral statement, by written document, by conduct on the part of the principal, or by ratification of an unauthorized act. most agencies are created by oral authority. any word by which the will of the principal is manifested is sufficient. _a_ tells _b_ to order a barrel of flour from _c_. this constitutes _b_ an agent for _a_. _b's_ asking _a_ if he shall order a barrel of flour from _c_, to which _a_ nods, constitutes _b_, _a's_ agent. _a_ writes to _b_ and requests him to order a carload of flour from _c_. this constitutes _b_, _a's_ agent. _b_, without any authority from _a_, orders a car load of flour from _c_, which _a_ accepts, and for which he promises to pay. this constitutes _b_, _a's_ agent by ratification. some few contracts of agency must be in writing. _a_ employs _b_ to act as his salesman for a period of two years. as between _a_ and _b_, the contract is not enforceable, by reason of the _statute of frauds_ (see statute of frauds, chapter on contracts). but as between _a_ and third parties dealt with by _b_ as agent, _a_ cannot refute the agency. some contracts which must be made in writing, such as land contracts require the agent's authority to be in writing. if a person knowingly permits another to act as his agent, he cannot afterwards repudiate the agency. for example, _a_ stands by and watches _b_ sell _a's_ horse to _c_. although _b_ had no authority to make the sale, _a_, by his conduct, cannot claim there was no agency. an agent's assertion of agency does not of itself constitute an agency. if _a_, without _b's_ knowledge, claims to _c_ to have authority to sell _b's_ horse and does attempt the sale, title to the horse does not pass to _c_, because _a_ had no authority to make the sale. a mere declaration of authority on the part of the agent without the knowledge or consent of the principal does not create an agency. =43. purposes for which an agency may be created.= with the exception of fulfilling contracts for personal services, a person may do, through an agent, anything he may lawfully do by himself. for example, _a_ employs _b_, an artist of fame, to paint a picture. manifestly _b_ cannot employ a student or another artist to paint the picture. _a_ contracted for _b's_ personal skill and work, and cannot be made to accept the work of another. in the majority of business transactions, however, the personal element does not enter. the thing to be done, or the article to be furnished, is the feature of most contracts. by whom the thing is done, or by whom the article is furnished, does not matter. for example, _a_ purchases one hundred bushels of wheat from _b_. _b_ delivers the wheat through his agent. ordinarily _a_ cannot, nor does he wish to complain. _a_ contracts with _b_ to have _b_ furnish him an oak chair of given dimensions. _b_ employs _c_ to make and deliver the chair. _a_ cannot complain so long as the chair corresponds to the terms of the contract. a party cannot do through another what he himself cannot lawfully do. for example, a party cannot employ an agent to purchase votes for him. neither can a person lawfully corrupt legislators by means of an agent, nor lawfully commit a crime by means of an agent. =44. ratification of agency.= where a person assumes to act as an agent for another without authority, or in performing an agency, exceeds his authority, he does not bind the person for whom he assumes to act, unless such person subsequently, with knowledge of the fact, consents to be bound thereby. such assent is known in law as _ratification_. a person cannot ratify an act which he, himself, has no power to perform. for example, _a_, pretending to act for _b_, offers _c_, a legislator, one hundred dollars ($100.00) to vote against a certain measure. _b_ cannot ratify this act, since he himself cannot lawfully perform it. if however, _a_, knowing that _b_ desires a certain rare picture, finds it and orders it in _b's_ name, _b_ may ratify the act by accepting and paying for the picture. [illustration: main reading room, u.s. congressional library, washington, d. c. in center of central circular desk, is the housing for the book-handling machinery. card catalogue in foreground. view facing entrance. the corinthian order has been used.] much discussion has arisen as to the ability of a person to ratify a forgery of a negotiable instrument. the courts differ on this question. it is, however settled that in case of a forgery, if the alleged principal fails to deny the signature when the paper is presented to him, or by remaining silent, induces another to purchase it, or to injure his position by reason thereof, the alleged principal is estopped from further denying the authenticity of the signature, and may be compelled to pay the instrument. for example, _a_ forges _b's_ name to a promissory note payable to _c_. _c_ presents the note to _b_ for payment. _b_ may refuse to pay the note by reason of forgery. if, however, _a_ forges _b's_ name to a note, payable to _c_, and _d_ shows _b_ the note, saying that he is about to purchase it if it is genuine, and _b_ remains silent and permits _d_ to buy the note, _b's_ silence amounts to a ratification of the forgery and he must pay the note to _d_. when an alleged principal's attention is called to the fact that an alleged agent has assumed to act as his agent, he must choose between repudiating the act and accepting it. this choice is known in law as the principal's _right of election_. =45. classification of agents.= agents are usually classified as _universal_, _general_ or _special_. by universal agent is meant an agent empowered to represent his principal in every capacity. a principal could have only one universal agent. in business affairs, a universal agency is seldom, if ever, found. it is useful, however, as a classification to show the different kinds of agents, depending upon the degree of their authority. a general agent is one authorized to perform all the duties of his principal of a certain kind. _a_, an insurance company, appoints _b_ its sole agent to solicit insurance in the city of boston. _b_ is a general agent for the purpose of soliciting insurance in the city of boston. general agencies are common in business practice. a special agent is one authorized to act for his principal in a particular matter or transaction. for example, _a_ employs _b_, an attorney, to try a certain law suit. _b_ is a special agent. in practice it is not always easy to determine whether an agent is a general or a special one. a principal does not always limit his agent's powers by actual authority conferred upon the agent. his intention and his instructions to the agent may limit the latter's authority, but third persons may rely upon the apparent authority of the agent, rather than the actual. for example, _a_ employs _b_ as a traveling salesman to sell dry goods. he instructs _b_ not to sell any bills less than five hundred dollars ($500.00) in amount. _b_ sells _c_ a bill amounting to four hundred dollars ($400.00), _c_ does not know of the limitation of _b's_ authority. _a_ is bound by _b's_ sales to _c_. _c_ has the right to rely upon _b's_ apparent authority. _a_ has given _b_ actual authority to sell goods, and this authority carries with it the implied or apparent authority to sell in any reasonable amounts. actual authority to do certain things carries with it the right to do those things which impliedly, or from custom or usage apparently accompany the authority conferred. third persons dealing with an agent must, on the other hand, ascertain at their peril that an agent has the authority claimed. for example, if _a_, without authority, claims to be agent for _b_, and sells an order of goods to _c_, and collects from _c_ a certain amount, when in fact he is not the agent of _b_, _c_ has no contract with _b_. a third person dealing with an agent must ascertain at his peril, that the alleged agent has authority from his principal to act as agent in a certain capacity. when this is ascertained, the third person has a right to treat the agent as having the authority to do all the things necessarily or customarily belonging to his agency. =46. duties of principal to agent.= the relation of a principal to his agent arises out of a contract, express or implied. the contract may expressly provide that the agent is to receive a specified sum for his services. in this event, the principal is legally liable to pay this amount to his agent. the principal may have a defense to his contract, the same as to any contract. but if the agent has performed his contract of agency, he can enforce payment therefor. for example, _a_ employs _b_ to sell furniture for a compensation of one hundred dollars ($100.00) per month and expenses, the contract to cover a period of twelve months. when _b_ performs this service, he may, by legal action, compel _b_ to pay him one thousand two hundred dollars ($1,200.00). if _b_ fails to work for _a_ as provided for by the terms of the contract, and at the expiration of six months enters _c's_ employ, in most jurisdictions, he can recover nothing from _a_, since he has not fulfilled his contract. in some jurisdictions, he may recover from _a_ the value of his services, less the damages _a_ has suffered by reason of breach of contract. many agencies are created without any express provision as to compensation. in this event, a contract relation exists, as much as in the former case. there is an implied contract that the agent shall receive a reasonable compensation for his services. for example, _a_, a contractor, requests _b_, a teamster, to haul stone for the construction of a bridge. _b_ works for _a_ a week, nothing having been said as to compensation. _b_ can recover from _a_ the reasonable and customary value of his services. there is also a duty on the part of the principal to protect his agent against unnecessary risks of injury. there is a duty on the part of a master to protect his servant. an agent or servant assumes the risks which naturally belong to the kind of work in which he is engaged. for example, _a_ employs _b_ to work in a saw mill. _b_ assumes the risks incident to the employment. if a log accidentally rolls on him, _a_ is not liable in damages, or if _b_ carelessly cuts his hand on the saw, _a_ is not responsible. but if the boiler explodes through carelessness of _a_, or if the saw flies to pieces on account of wear, and injures _b_, _a_ is liable. it is said that a principal or master is obliged to furnish his agent or servant with a reasonably safe place in which to work, and with reasonably safe tools and instruments with which to work. if the principal negligently fails to these things, and the servant is injured without negligence and carelessness on his part, the principal is liable to him in damages for any injuries. =47. duties and liabilities of principal to third persons.= when a person employs another to act for him, he is liable to third persons for the acts performed by the agent, so long as the agent acts within his authority. if _a_ appoints _b_ his agent to purchase live stock, _a_ must pay third persons for the live stock purchased in his name by _b_. a person employing another to act as his agent is responsible to third persons for acts performed by the agent, which are within the apparent authority of the agent, as well as for the acts which are within the actual authority. if _a_ appoints _b_ his agent to purchase live stock and instructs him to purchase only hogs, but limits his authority to pay over five cents per pound, and _b_ purchases at five and a half cents from _c_, who does not know of this limitation, _a_ is bound by the contract. in giving an agent authority to do certain things, the agency carries with it the customary or implied authority to perform those acts incident to the general character of the agency. thus, authority to purchase usually carries with it authority to fix the price. this is especially true of authority to sell. notice to an agent is notice to a principal. if an agent is authorized to sell goods, and in making a sale, is notified by the purchaser that the goods are purchased conditionally, in the absence of any special instruction limiting the power of the agent to sell conditionally, brought to the attention of the purchaser, the principal will be bound by the condition. a principal is liable to third persons for his agent's torts or wrongful acts. if _a_ directs his agent _b_ to destroy _c's_ property, _a_ is liable to _c_ for the damage done. a principal is not only liable to third persons for the damages done under his express direction by his agent, but he is also liable for the acts carelessly done by the agent in the course of his employment. a street car company employs _b_ as motorman. _b_, carelessly and negligently, while operating a car runs over _c_. _a_ is liable for _b's_ negligent act. a principal, however, is not liable for the wrongful acts of his agent, performed outside of his employment. _a_, a street car company, employs _b_ as conductor; _c_, standing on the street insults _b_. _b_ stops his car, gets off and assaults and injures _c_. _a_ is not liable, since _b_ did not commit the act complained of while in the course of his employment, but went outside the course of his employment and acted on his own behalf. =48. duties and liabilities of agent to principal.= an agent must obey the instructions of his principal. if he disobeys his instructions, he is liable to his principal for losses sustained. for example, if _a_ employs _b_ to sell flour at four dollars ($4.00) per barrel and _b_ sells one hundred barrels at three dollars and seventy-five cents ($3.75), he must respond in damages to _a_ for twenty-five cents a barrel. if, however, a discretion is given the agent, and he makes a reasonable mistake in using his discretion, he is not liable. if his instructions are not clear, and he carries out what he thinks are his instructions, which prove not to be the desire or intention of his principal, he is not liable. an agent must account to his principal for money collected, and for moneys or property coming into his possession by reason of his agency. if he deposits money in his own name and it is lost through a bank failure, he is responsible to his principal. if he carefully deposits it in the name of his principal and the bank fails, he is not responsible. an agent must act carefully in the performance of his principal's work, or as it is usually said, he must not act carelessly or negligently. he must act as a reasonably prudent man would act, under similar circumstances, or be liable to his principal in damages. an agent must be loyal to his principal's interests. he cannot act secretly for another. he cannot act secretly as agent for both parties to a transaction. if he makes profits in his agency dealings, he must account for them to his principal. _a_ employs _b_ to sell christmas novelties. _b_, shortly before christmas receives a large order from _c_, who offers _b_ one hundred dollars ($100.00) in excess of the regular price, if the goods arrive the following day. _b_ succeeds in having the goods reach _c_ the following day. _b_ must account for the extra one hundred dollars ($100.00) to _a_, his principal. an agent must faithfully carry out his agency. he is responsible for failure to act loyally. _a_ employs _b_ to sell butter. _b_ obtains an offer from _c_, a rival butter manufacturer, to commence work for him on commission two weeks hence. _b_ tells his customers not to purchase for two weeks, at which time he can make them a better price. _b_ is liable to _a_ in damages for this act of disloyalty. he has broken his contract. an agent, who is employed to perform personal services, cannot transfer his responsibility or agency to another. one who agrees to act as agent for another without compensation, cannot be forced to fulfil his agency. he is not liable in damages to his principal for failure to act, but if he chooses to act without compensation, he is liable if he acts with great negligence. if _a_ requests _b_ to drive his horse home and _b_ drives the horse and leaves him without tying him, and the horse runs away and destroys the carriage and ruins himself, _b_ is liable for gross negligence. =49. rights and liabilities of agent to third persons.= an agent acting within the scope of his authority, in making contracts with third persons, binds his principal by the contract, but does not bind himself. _a_ is authorized by _b_ to purchase a horse. a purchases a horse from _c_, notifying _c_ that he is purchasing as agent for _b_. _c_ must look to _b_ for the purchase price, since _a_ acted solely as agent and is not personally liable under the contract. if an agent, intending to act as agent, makes a contract in his own name, without informing the third party with whom he is dealing, of the agency, he binds himself. under these circumstances, he usually binds his principal also. this question is discussed more at length under the title "undisclosed principal." if _a_ is employed by _b_ to purchase a horse, and _a_ purchases a horse from _c_ for two hundred dollars ($200.00), without telling _c_ of the agency, the purchase price to be paid the following day, _a_ binds himself personally to pay _c_ the two hundred dollars ($200.00) and _c_ is not obliged to look to _b_ for payment. if an agent, honestly believing he has authority to act as agent when he has not, makes a contract as agent for his supposed principal, he binds himself personally and not his principal. _a_ writes to _b_, "purchase for me _c's_ bay team, if same can be secured for two hundred and fifty dollars ($250.00), half payable in six months." _b_ reads the letter and purchases the team in the name of _a_ for two hundred and fifty dollars cash ($250.00), overlooking the condition in _a's_ letter that half was to be paid in six months. _b_ binds himself to _c_ and does not bind _a_. when an agent falsely or fraudulently represents himself as agent, he binds himself and not his alleged principal. if an agent, honestly believing he has authority to act, does not have such authority, but discloses all the facts connected with his authority, to the third person with whom he is dealing, he is not personally bound. _a_, having previously acted as agent for _b_, in purchasing onions by the crate, receives the following wire from _b_, "purchase one hundred crates, ship at once." _a_, supposing this refers to the purchase of onions, shows the telegram to _c_, and tells him that in the only other transaction in which he acted for _b_ he purchased onions, and that he supposes this wire refers to onions. he purchases one hundred crates of onions from _c_, and later discovers that _b_ intended turnips, instead of onions. _a_ is not bound personally. he has acted honestly and revealed all the facts in his possession to _c_, who must act at his risk as to _a's_ actual authority. =50. undisclosed principal.= a principal, whose agent deals with a third person for his benefit, without disclosing the name of his principal, or perhaps without disclosing the fact of agency, is said to be an _undisclosed principal_. for example, _a_ employs _b_ to purchase one hundred crates of oranges. _b_ purchases the oranges from _c_ for _a_ in his own name, not telling _c_ that the purchase is made for _a_. in this case, _a_ is an undisclosed principal. as a general rule an undisclosed principal, when discovered, is liable upon the contract of his agent. in case of an undisclosed principal, the agent is liable personally as well as the undisclosed principal. if _a_ instructs _b_ to purchase for him five cars of coal, and _b_ purchases the coal of _c_ in his own name, without disclosing the fact of his agency, _b_ is personally liable to _c_ for the purchase price. the undisclosed principal is not liable to a third party if the third party with full knowledge of the agency, elects to hold the agent. if _a_ employs _b_ to purchase goods for him, and _b_ purchases the goods in his own name from _c_, and _c_, before payment, learning that the goods were purchased for _a_, elects to hold the agent _b_, by suing him for the purchase price, or by doing or saying anything that shows his determination to hold the agent, rather than the principal, he cannot thereafter hold _a_. the undisclosed principal may enforce against third persons the contract of his agent. if _a_ employs _b_ to purchase goods from _c_ and _b_ makes the purchase in his own name for future delivery, _a_ may compel _c_ to deliver the goods to him. this rule applies in all cases where the third party is not injured by its application. the liability of an undisclosed principal to third persons, upon contracts made by an agent in the agent's name, is subject to the further exception, that when the third party has led the undisclosed principal to believe that he is looking to the agent alone for fulfillment of the contract, and relying upon such conduct the undisclosed principal settles with the agent, he is no longer liable to the third party. in this event the third person is said to be estopped from the right to sue the undisclosed principal. this rule is based upon equitable reasons. there can be no such thing as undisclosed principal in case of a negotiable instrument. no one is liable on a negotiable instrument, such as a note, draft, or check, except the maker, indorser, drawer or acceptor. =51. apparent authority of agent.= while it is true that an agent must have authority from his principal, before he can bind his principal in the capacity of agent, and while it is equally true that third persons, in dealing with agents, must determine at their peril that the agent has actually received authority to act for his principal, a third party has the right to rely upon the implied and customary powers accompanying an actual authority conferred upon an agent. few contracts are made express in all their terms. language is not susceptible of such nicety. in the express or implied contracts used in creating agencies, many things are implied. a third person dealing with an agent, is not limited by the actual authority conferred upon the agent by his principal, if the character of the authority apparently confers other customary or implied powers. third persons are said to have the right to rely upon the apparent rather than upon the actual authority of the agent. this does not mean that an agent can create an agency and bind his principal without having received any authority from his principal to act as agent, but means that where an authority of a certain character has been conferred upon an agent, third parties dealing with the agent, have a right to rely upon the apparent or customary powers conferred, rather than upon any secret or unexpected limitations upon such authority. for example, an agent has authority to sell silk goods and to make exchanges in silk. this authority is printed on the order sheets furnished the agent. the agent exhibits these order sheets to the customer and exchanges are made. the principal cannot claim that the agent had authority to exchange only goods of the principal's manufacture. the authority conferred upon the agent to make exchanges, apparently was to make exchanges of any silks. the principal cannot complain if third parties rely upon the apparent authority. =52. secret instructions.= so long as the agency is legal, a principal may create an agency of as limited an extent, or of as broad a nature as he desires. so long as the limitations which the principal places upon his agent's authority are not of a nature to mislead third persons, the agent cannot bind his principal by exceeding these limitations. but if a principal confers an authority upon an agent which impliedly embraces a number of powers, the principal cannot limit these powers by secret instructions. the limitations upon an agent's apparent authority must be brought to the attention of the third party. for example, _a_, a wholesale dry goods dealer, may employ _b_, a salesman, to take written orders only. if _b_ attempts to take oral orders, the principal, _a_, will not be bound thereby. but if _a_ gives _b_ authority to take written orders only, and secretly instructs _b_ to take no order less than fifty dollars ($50.00) in amount, or in excess of two thousand dollars ($2,000.00), and _b_ takes _c's_ order for forty-five dollars ($45.00), _c_ not knowing of this limitation, _a_ is bound. if, however, _a_ instructs _b_ to take only written orders, and in amounts ranging only from fifty dollars ($50.00) to two thousand dollars ($2,000.00), and prints these conditions plainly upon the order blank, _c_, in signing one of these order blanks for forty-five dollars ($45.00), does not bind _a_. in this case, _a_ has placed the limitation of _b's_ authority in _c's_ possession. =53. wrongful acts of agent.= an agent is personally responsible for wrongful acts committed. the fact that he acts in a representative capacity, does not excuse him from committing wrongs, nor does it relieve him from personal liability therefor. the principal, as well as the agent, is liable for the wrong committed, if authorized. if _a_ instructs his agent, _b_, to sell goods by fraudulent representations and _b_, by means of said fraud, sells goods to _c_, _b_ personally, as well as _a_ is liable to _c_, for the wrongful act. in the language of the courts, an agent is liable to third parties for _malfeasance_, but not for _misfeasance_. that is, an agent is liable to a third party for wrongful acts done, but is not liable to third parties for mere failure to observe the terms of his agency. in the latter case, he is liable to his principal only. =54. delegation of authority and subagents.= where personal judgment and discretion are required of an agent, he cannot transfer his duties to another, without the consent of his principal. _a_, a wholesale dry goods merchant, employs _b_, an experienced traveling salesman, to sell goods. _b_, by his contract, is bound to give his personal skill to _a_ and cannot employ _c_ to act as salesman for him. _a_ presumptively employs _b_ to use his own skill and judgment. _b_ is not permitted to delegate his authority to another. where, however, mere mechanical or ministerial work is to be performed the agent is permitted to employ others to assist him, or to perform the work. for example, _a_ employs _b_, an expressman, to carry his trunk to the depot. _b_ may employ a boy to assist him in performing the work, or may employ another to perform the work. usage and custom have much to do in determining whether or not an agent is permitted to delegate his authority. the performance of a mere ministerial duty may be delegated. _a_ employs _b_ to act as stenographer in reporting the trial of a case. when it comes to writing out the testimony, _b_ may perform the task himself, or delegate it to another. when an agent employs a subordinate, or delegates his authority to another on his own responsibility, the agent stands as principal for the sub-agent, and the original principal is not responsible to third persons for the acts of the sub-agent. if, however, the agent is authorized by the principal to appoint a sub-agent, the agent is bound only to exercise care in the selection of such sub-agent, and the original principal is liable to third persons for his acts. the sub-agent is answerable to the principal, and not to the agent for his acts. for example, _a_, a florist, employs _b_ to deliver a box of flowers. _b_ employs _c_. the nature of the duty is such that _b_ may delegate it. but if _c_ is negligent in the performance of the work, _b_ is liable to _a_ for the negligence, for the reason that _a_ did not expressly or impliedly direct _b_ to employ another. _a_, in chicago, deposits for collection, a check drawn on a new york bank. _a_ knows that it is the custom of bankers to employ other banks for the purpose of making collections. if the chicago bank uses due care in selecting another bank to assist in making the collection, and this bank makes the collection and fails before the chicago bank receives the money, _a_ must stand the loss, and not the chicago bank. _a_ authorized the employment of a sub-agent. there is some conflict of authority on the legal question involved in the above example. =55. agent's authority to collect.= an agent authorized to solicit orders is not thereby authorized to make collections on such orders. if, however, the agent is entrusted with the goods, and delivers them at the time the sale is made, he is authorized to receive payment therefor. an agent authorized to sell, is not authorized to exchange or trade goods. he is authorized to make sales for cash only. if he accepts checks, or sells on credit, he is personally liable for losses. there is a tendency at present to permit the agent to accept checks in payment. the custom of making payment by check is so well recognized in many lines of business, that in some transactions it impliedly gives an agent this authority. this was not formerly the rule, and is still disputed by many courts. =56. agent's signature to written instruments.= the proper method for an agent to employ in signing a written instrument, as agent, is to describe himself as agent for his principal in the body of the instrument, and then sign his principal's name at the end thereof, by himself as agent. for example, if _a_, is agent for _b_ in making a contract of sale, the body of the instrument should state that "_b_ by _a_, his agent, agrees," and the signature should be (_b_..............) (by _a_, his agent) if the contract is merely signed "_a_, agent," the agent probably binds himself only. this is especially true in case of sealed instruments, such as deeds. in case of promissory notes, an agent who has authority to make such instruments, may make them in the name of his principal without using his own name at all. the more common form, however, is to sign the principal's name, per the agent as agent, or to sign the agent's name as agent for the principal, giving the principal's name. the mere signing of the agent's name as agent is a mere description, and probably binds the agent and not the principal. for example, if _a_ is agent and _b_ the principal, a promissory note executed by the agent should be signed (_b_..............) (by _a_, his agent) a simple contract should state in the the body of the instrument that _a_, as agent for _b_, is making the contract, and the contract should be signed (_b_..............) (by _a_, his agent) or _a_, agent for _b_. a promissory note or simple contract made and signed in the name of the principal, the agent's name not appearing, is probably binding, but it is not good business practice. the exact condition of affairs should be shown, and the name of the agent, as well as that of the principal, should appear in the document. =57. authority of agent to warrant.= as to whether or not an agent authorized to sell personal property has implied authority to warrant its quality, is not uniformly settled. if there is any rule on the question, it probably is controlled by usage and custom. if there is a general well known custom to warrant a particular article, the agent has implied authority to warrant the quality of the article sold. if no such usage or custom exists, or if the usage or custom is purely local and not general in its application, the agent has no authority to warrant the quality of the goods sold. it must be remembered that a principal is bound by the general character of authority he confers upon his agent, by the agent's apparent authority rather than by the actual authority, unless the latter is actually brought to the notice of third parties. it has been held that an agent authorized to sell a horse is authorized to warrant the soundness of the horse, and that an agent authorized to sell reapers is authorized to warrant their durability and fitness. it was held that a principal, who authorized an agent to sell goods at a certain price, did not authorize the agent to warrant to third persons that his principal would not sell to others at a less price. =58. factors.= a factor, usually called a commission man or consignee, is an agent entrusted with possession of his principal's goods, and ordinarily empowered to sell in his own name. like any agent who has possession of his principal's goods with power to sell, a factor has power to collect. he differs from a broker in that he has possession of the goods of his principal, and is authorized to sell in his own name, rather than in the name of his principal. in the absence of contrary custom or express direction, a factor may sell on credit. a factor, until instructed otherwise, may use his discretion as to the time and price of sales, and is entitled to deduct his commission based upon custom in the absence of special contract. a factor may sue the purchaser in his own name, for the purchase price. the principal may sue in his own name also. persons dealing with factors may hold the principal responsible for the contracts and representations of the factor, the same as any undisclosed principal. factors are also personally liable to third persons for their contracts. a factor must account to his principal for money collected, less his commission and expenses. he is not obliged to keep such money separate from his own, but he must keep accurate account of same, and remit promptly when it is due, according to custom or special contact. =59. brokers.= a broker differs primarily from a factor in that ordinarily he does not have possession of the article dealt in, and acts in the name of his principal rather than in his own name. there are many kinds of brokers engaged in common business life. some of these are insurance brokers, pawnbrokers, bill and note brokers, and merchandise brokers. in the absence or special authority, a broker does not have authority to collect. =60. auctioneers.= an auctioneer is a special kind of agent employed to dispose of goods to the highest bidder at a public sale. some states provide by statute that auctioneers must be licensed, and that they may charge only certain fees. most licensed auctioneers are required to give bond. in the absence of statutory regulations, any person competent to perform the duties of an auctioneer may so act. an auctioneer differs from an ordinary agent in that, in some respects, he is agent for both seller and purchaser. he is agent for the seller in offering the goods for sale, and in obtaining bids. when the highest bid is received, however, and the hammer falls, he is deemed to be agent for the purchaser, with authority to complete the sale in the purchaser's name. if the contract of sale is within the statute of frauds and required to be in writing, the auctioneer has the authority of the purchaser to sign his name to a memorandum of sale, either by himself or through his clerk. the bidder is bound by this contract, made in his presence at the time and place of the sale. the owner may fix such reasonable terms as he chooses, and the auctioneer must follow out the terms made by the owner. if an owner advertises the terms of the sale, bidders are deemed to have notice of these terms. these terms cannot be varied by the auctioneer. if, however, the owner publishes no special terms of sale, the auctioneer has implied authority to fix customary and reasonable terms. bidders have the right to rely on such terms and the principal is bound by them. in the absence of special instructions to the contrary, an auctioneer must sell for cash. he has possession of the goods, consequently has implied authority to receive payment of the price. he has no implied authority to warrant the goods. he cannot bid in his own interest. if bidders fraudulently combine not to bid against each other, for the purpose of obtaining the goods at a cheap price, no title passes to the highest bidder, by reason of the fraud. so long as the auctioneer acts within his authority and reveals the name of his principal, he incurs no personal liability. but if he exceeds his authority in making a sale he is liable in damages to his principal. if he does not reveal the name of his principal to bidders, he is liable personally to them. an auctioneer is entitled to recover from his principal the amount of his compensation, including disbursements and expenses incurred in the sale, care and preservation of the property. he is said to have a _lien_ on the goods or proceeds of the sale, for his compensation. by this is meant that he has a right to retain possession of the goods until his compensation is paid, or in the case of sale, to deduct his charges from the proceeds of the sale. when authorized to sell goods on credit, in case payments are not made when due, the auctioneer may sue in his own name. he may also sue in his own name for wrongful acts of third parties, whereby the goods are injured. the principal also may bring this action in his own name. the principal is liable for the acts of his auctioneer, committed within the actual or apparent scope of the latter's authority. =61. del credere agency.= an agent authorized to sell is not permitted to sell on credit, unless expressly so authorized or unless the custom or usage of the particular kind of agency impliedly carries with it this power. some agents are, by their contracts of agency, authorized to sell on credit, on condition that they guarantee to save their principals from losses resulting therefrom. such an agency is called a _del credere_ commission, and the agent is called a _del credere_ agent. this term means that in consideration of the agreed commission or salary paid the agent, the latter agrees to pay to the principal, when due, the sums which third parties, who buy the principal's goods from the agent, fail to pay. this agreement to indemnify the principal against losses on credits made by the agent, is regarded as an original promise on the part of the agent, and not a promise to pay the debt of another. by reason of this attitude on the part of the courts in interpreting this contract as an original promise on the part of the _del credere_ agent to pay his own debt, and not the debt of another, the contract does not have to be in writing. (see statute of frauds.) for example, _a_, a manufacturer of farm machinery, employs _b_ as agent to sell farm machinery on credit, on condition that _b_ personally guarantees the sales. _b_ sells a mowing machine to _c_, to be paid for within ninety days. _c_ fails to make payment. _a_ may sue and recover the amount of the purchase price from _b_. =62. real estate brokers.= a real estate broker is one employed to make contracts involving the sale or leasing of real property. the sale of lots, of houses and lots, and farms are common examples. a real estate broker is seldom authorized to do more than find a purchaser or tenant, not being authorized to make the lease or contract of sale. by reason of this limitation generally placed on a real estate broker's authority, many disputes arise over real estate brokers' rights to compensation. a principal may enter into any kind of contract he desires with a real estate broker, and is liable when the broker has performed his contract, and not before. the difficulty is in determining when the broker has substantially performed his contract. if _a_ hires _b_ to procure a purchaser for his house and lot, and agrees to pay him 2% of the selling price when he obtains the signature of a financially responsible purchaser to a contract of sale, _b_ is not entitled to his commission until he obtains such a party's signature to a contract. the fact that _a_ has entered into this contract with _b_, does not, in the absence of an express stipulation to the contrary, prevent _a_ from selling the property himself, or from employing as many other brokers as he pleases to attempt to make the sale. most brokers, however, are employed on certain terms to obtain a purchaser or tenant. if the agent succeeds in obtaining such a purchaser or tenant, the principal must pay the broker the agreed compensation. the owner cannot act unfairly by the broker. if the broker obtains a tenant or purchaser by seeking him out, and by interesting him in the property, the owner cannot avoid the payment of commission by discharging the broker and completing the deal himself. in the absence of an express agreement to give the broker a certain fixed time in which to make the sale or find a tenant, the owner may discharge the agent at any time he sees fit, just as the agent may cease his efforts at any time he chooses. the owner cannot discharge the agent just as the latter is completing the sale, in order to take advantage of the agent's efforts, without paying him the agreed compensation. the agent, in this event is held substantially to have performed his contract. contracts with real estate brokers should be carefully drawn, and should contain express stipulations as to the powers and limitation of the broker's authority. the temptation is great on the part of both parties to claim that the sale was, or was not made, through the efforts of the broker. the contract of a real estate broker differs not at all from any other contract. the conditions are such, however, that the agreement is frequently indefinite, and it is difficult to determine when a substantial performance has been made. in the absence of any agreed compensation, the real estate broker is entitled to receive the customary fees. in the absence of any custom regulating the commission, he is entitled to receive a reasonable compensation. a real estate broker is not permitted to represent both parties, or to receive compensation from both parties. if a broker is promised compensation from the purchaser which he agrees to accept, without the consent of the owner, he cannot receive compensation from either party. =63. termination of agency.= if an agent performs the terms of his agency, the agency is said to be terminated by performance. he ceases to be agent, by reason of having performed his contract. if an agent is employed to act as agent for a specified time, the lapse of the stipulated time, of itself, terminates the agency. an agency is a contract, express or implied, and it may be terminated at any time by any act of the parties thereto showing such to be their intention. there is one exception to this rule, and that is, that an agency coupled with an interest cannot be terminated by an act of one of the parties. this exception is discussed in a separate section. where an agency is terminated by failure or refusal of the principal, or agent to carry out his terms of the contract, the defaulting party is liable in damages to the other party. this does not prevent the termination of the agency however. [illustration: a corner in the new york office of the h. w. johns-manville co.] where an agency is terminated by the failure or refusal of either party to observe the conditions of the contract of agency, the agency still subsists on the part of third persons, who have dealt with the agent, and who have not received notice of the termination. upon revoking the agent's authority, the principal must notify third persons, who have dealt with the agent, or who have knowledge of the agency contract, and who would be likely to continue to deal with him as agent. if the principal does not give third parties such notice, he is still liable to them on contracts subsequently made by the agent in the principal's name. for example, if _a_, a wholesale druggist, employs _b_ to sell goods for one year and _c_ knows of the contract, and at the expiration of six months, _a_ discharges _b_ for failure to give him his exclusive time, _a_ must notify _c_ of _b's_ discharge, else _b_ can still bind _a_ by making contracts with _c_. =64. revocation of agency by operation of law.= when one of the parties to an agency contract dies, becomes insane or bankrupt, the agency is said to terminate _by operation of law_. when the principal dies, the agency terminates. death of itself, constitutes notice to third persons of the termination of the agency. this is true of all agencies except those coupled with an interest, discussed in another section. if any agent and a third person innocently make a contract in the name of the principal after the death of the principal, and without notice of the principal's death, the contract is not enforceable against the principal's estate. death of the principal revokes the agency. death of the agent also revokes the agency. insanity of the agent, or of the principal terminates an agency not coupled with an interest. it is regarded the same as death of one of the parties. an agency is terminated by the bankruptcy of either principal or agent. mere insolvency on the part of the principal or agent does not, of itself, terminate the agency, but bankruptcy, voluntary or involuntary, terminates it, and is of itself, notice to third persons. an innocent third person who has parted with his money on a contract made with the agent after the agency has been terminated by reason of insanity, or bankruptcy of the principal, may not enforce his contract, but may recover his money. injury or disability of an agent, rendering it impossible for him to carry out the terms of the agency, terminates the agency. =65. agency coupled with an interest.= an agency coupled with an interest cannot be terminated by attempted revocation of the principal, nor is it terminated by death, insanity or bankruptcy of the principal or agent. if the agent has an interest in the subject of the agency outside his interest in his compensation, he is said to have an agency coupled with an interest. such an agency is irrevocable. _a_ pays _b_ one thousand dollars ($1,000.00) for one eighth interest in a patent, and in consideration of this purchase is given the agency to sell the patented article for a fixed commission. this constitutes an agency coupled with an interest, and is not revoked by an attempted revocation of the principal or by the principal's death. _a_ is indebted to _b_, his attorney, for one hundred dollars ($100.00). _a_ gives _b_ a note for one hundred and fifty dollars ($150.00) to collect, agreeing to pay him 10% of the amount collected, and to permit him to deduct the one hundred dollars ($100.00) indebtedness. this constitutes an agency coupled with an interest, and cannot be revoked by _a_. to constitute an agency coupled with an interest, the interest must be coupled with the subject matter of the agency, and not merely with the compensation the agent is to receive. for example, if _a_ sends his attorney, _b_, a note to collect, agreeing to give _b_ 25% of the amount collected, this does not constitute an agency coupled with an interest, and may be revoked at any time by _a_. quiz questions law in general 1. how many classes of rights are there? 2. name them. 3. how did men derive these rights? 4. what limitations, if any, are there to rights? 5. have property rights always been recognized? 6. _a_ finds a watch in the street and, without making any attempt to find the owner, keeps it. is the right of possession in _a_? 7. in primitive times were personal or property rights more generally recognized? 8. how were rights originally enforced? 9. how are rights enforced at present? 10. how did laws originate? 11. define _law_. 12. what does law embrace? 13. what connection have laws with courts of justice? 14. what connection, if any, have customs to laws? 15. what is the purpose of law? 16. what class of laws is enforced for the benefit of the state? 17. _a_ steals _b's_ horse. _b_, by proper legal action, recovers possession of the horse. is the law enabling _b_ to recover the horse a law for protection of citizens, or for the protection of property? 18. what are the sources of law? 19. do decisions of courts form any part of law? if so, what? 20. what are the new york state reports? 21. what are the philippine island reports? 22. is the treaty existing between the united states and japan, law? if so what kind of law? 23. define statutes. how are statutes enacted? 24. to what classification of law do statutes belong? 25. is the english constitution written or unwritten law? 26. do customs and statutes bear any relation to each other? 27. how is the record of the state statutes kept? 28. what are the general divisions of law? 29. is any part of the unwritten law written? 30. is all unwritten law written? 31. is any written law unwritten? 32. is unwritten law stable? 33. how, if at all, can the written law of a state or country be changed? 34. are treaties unwritten law? how, if at all, are the records of congress kept? 35. give a general classification of law. 36. is there a universally recognized classification of law? 37. define _administrative law_ and give an example. 38. define _public law_ and give an example. 39. define _private law_. classify private law. 40. define _constitutional law_. 41. define _criminal law_ and give an example. 42. can the heir or personal representative of a murdered man ever recover money compensation for the murder? 43. if so, is it by means of private or public law? 44. is a criminal tried and punished by private or by public law? 45. define _law of procedure_ and give an example. 46. what do contracts embrace? 47. what does the word _tort_ mean? 48. give an example of a tort. 49. does the same act ever constitute a breach of contract, a tort, and a crime? 50. define _commercial law_. contracts 1. define _contract_. 2. give an example of a business transaction which constitutes a contract. 3. what is the purpose of putting important contracts in writing? 4. what is meant by _offer_? 5. give an example of offer. 6. a coat marked $25 is placed by a merchant in a window. does this constitute an offer? 7. an advertisement is put in a paper advertising chairs for $7.00 each. does this constitute an offer? 8. what is an _agreement_? 9. is an agreement a contract? 10. give an example of an agreement. 11. what is meant by _acceptance_? 12. give an example of a contract having no acceptance. 13. _a_ offers to sell _b_ his watch for $10.00. _b_ offers _a_ $8.00. is there an acceptance? is there a contract in the above case? 14. what is a _counter offer_? give an example of a counter offer. 15. what is meant by the term _meeting of the minds_? 16. give an example of an acceptance not of the exact terms of the offer. 17. what is meant by _mutuality_? 18. distinguish _meeting of the minds_ and _mutuality_. 19. may there be an acceptance of a contract by an act? if the above question is answered in the affirmative, give an example. 20. must an acceptance be communicated to the offer? 21. _a_ writes _b_, "i will sell you my horse for $150. if i do not hear from you to the contrary by thursday noon i will consider the horse yours." _b_ does not reply. after thursday noon, to whom does the horse belong? 22. define _option_. give an example of an option. 23. does an option require a consideration to render it valid? 24. what is an _element_ of a contract? 25. give the elements of a contract. 26. how many parties to every contract? 27. what is meant by _legal age_? 28. _a_, a male, sixteen years old, contracts with _b_, a female, eighteen years old. can _b_ avoid the contract on the ground of the infancy of _a_? 29. is fraud or duress a defense to a contract? 30. how many kinds of consideration are there? 31. is a good consideration sufficient to support a contract? 32. define _valuable consideration_. 33. give an example of a contract which may be supported by a good consideration. 34. what is meant by a _sealed instrument_? 35. is something beneficial to the promisee a sufficient consideration to a contract? 36. _a_ promises _b_ to pay him $100 if _b_ will promise to work for him for one month. _b_ promises. is there a consideration to this contract? if so, what is it? 37. define _mutual promise_. 38. is a mutual promise a valuable consideration? give an example of mutual promise. 39. define _past consideration_. give an example of past consideration. 40. does a past consideration support a contract? 41. what is meant by _adequate consideration_? 42. does a consideration have to be adequate to support a contract? 43. may adequacy of consideration be considered in determining whether or not fraud was used in procuring a contract? 44. give an example of a promise to do something one is already bound to do. 45. is a promise to do something one is already bound to do a sufficient consideration to support a contract? 46. give an example of illegal consideration. 47. does an illegal consideration support a contract? 48. do all the terms of a contract have to be express? 49. define _express contract_. 50. a housewife orders a sack of flour from her grocer by telephone. the flour is delivered and accepted by her. is this an implied contract? 51. give an example of an express contract. 52. do any contracts have every term expressly set forth? 53. define _implied contract_. 54. are uncertain contracts void or voidable? give an example of an uncertain contract. 55. give the distinction between _unilateral_ and _bilateral_ contracts. 56. _a_ promises to sell his dog to _b_ if _b_ will promise to pay him $5.00 the following day. _b_ promises to pay _a_ $5.00 the following day. is this contract unilateral or bilateral? 57. _a_ promises to pay _b_ $100 if _b_ will dig a well for _a_. _b_ digs the well. is the contract unilateral or bilateral? 58. distinguish _executory_ and _executed_ contracts. 59. _a_ promises to pay _b_ $5,000 if _b_ will deliver to him a deed of his farm. _b_ delivers the deed. is the contract executed or executory? 60. is the above contract executed as to _a_? is it executory as to _b_? 61. are infants bound by their contracts? define _infant_. 62. are infants' contracts void? 63. distinguish _void_ and _voidable_. 64. can a competent party contracting with an infant avoid the contract on the ground of infancy of the other party? 65. can an infant ratify a contract after becoming of legal age? 66. explain how, if at all, an infant may ratify his contracts. 67. define the term _necessaries_. 68. _a_, an infant, has not sufficient clothing. _b_, a merchant, sells him a coat worth $7.00, for $14.00. can _b_ recover anything from _a_? if so, how much? 69. is an infant entitled to receive his wages? 70. what is meant by _emancipation of an infant_? is emancipation of an infant ever implied? 71. what is meant by _novation_? give an example of novation. 72. are contracts made for the benefit of a third person enforceable by such third person? 73. are contracts of an insane person enforceable? 74. are contracts of insane persons, intoxicated persons, and idiots void or voidable? 75. _a_, while intoxicated, purchased a coat from _b_ for $10.00. the following day, when sober, _a_ promises to pay for the coat. can _b_ enforce the contract? 76. can an insane person make a valid contract during a lucid interval? 77. can married women enter into contracts? 78. do custom and usage ever enter into a contract? 79. _a_ purchases forty barrels of yellow grease from _b_, like sample furnished. the grease arrives, ranging in color from white to black. _b_ offers to show a custom among grease dealers, known to _a_, that a composite sample is used in selling grease. can he show this custom as part of the contract? 80. are oral contracts ever valid? why, if at all, do some contracts have to be in writing? 81. what is meant by the _statute of frauds_? 82. when and where did this statute originate? what was the purpose of this statute? 83. does the statute serve any useful purpose at the present time? 84. do the states of this country have a _statute of frauds_, or is it a part of their unwritten law? 85. by the terms of the _statute of frauds_ what contracts must be in writing? 86. are contracts covered by the statute of frauds illegal if not in writing? 87. _a_ orally promises _b_ to work for him for two years for the consideration of $2,000. can either party enforce the contract? 88. what is meant by the term _specialty_? are specialties included in the statute of frauds? 89. can you make an oral promissory note? 90. can contracts be made by letter and telegraph? 91. _a_, by letter, offers _b_ $1,000 for _b's_ team of horses. _b_ mails a letter of acceptance which is lost in the mails. is there a valid contract? 92. _a_, by letter, offers _b_ $10 for a harness. by the following mail, _a_ writes revoking the offer. _b_ receives the letter of revocation five minutes after mailing his acceptance. is the contract revoked? 93. _a_, by letter, offers _b_ $1,000 for his racing horse and says, "i will consider my offer accepted upon receipt of your reply." _b's_ letter of acceptance is lost in the mail. is there a valid contract? 94. _a_ wires _b_ that he will pay him $100 per share for his pennsylvania railroad stock. _b_ hands his telegram of acceptance to the telegraph operator who fails to send it. the following day _a_ wires a revocation of his offer. is there a valid contract? 95. does a revocation by wire or letter have to be received to be effected? 96. does an acceptance by wire or letter have to be received by the offerer to constitute a valid acceptance? 97. in what respect do sealed instruments differ from ordinary contracts? 98. at present what constitutes a seal? 99. at present is it the tendency of the law to favor sealed instruments? 100. are sunday contracts void or voidable? 101. what makes sunday contracts unenforceable? 102. what was _the lord's day act_ of england? 103. what is meant by works of charity and necessity? 104. _a_ makes and delivers a promissory note to _b_ for $100 on sunday. is the note enforceable? 105. what makes a contract illegal? 106. are illegal contracts void or voidable? give an example of an illegal contract? 107. what is a gambling contract? 108. are gambling contracts void? 109. why are gambling contracts illegal? 110. define _fraud_. 111. is a false representation made during the formation of a contract known by both parties to be false, a defense to the contract? 112. give an example of a false misrepresentation which will serve to avoid a contract? 113. can there be duress without personal violence? define _duress_. 114. give an example of duress. 115. do duress and fraud render a contract void or voidable? 116. define _mistake_ in connection with making a contract. define _mistake of fact_. 117. define _mistake of law_. 118. does mistake of one party to a contract avoid the contract? 119. does mistake of law avoid a contract? 120. does mutual mistake render a contract void or voidable? 121. what is meant by a _contract impossible of performance_? give an example of a contract impossible of performance. 122. _a_, on april 4, enters into a contract dated april 2, by which he promises to deliver to _b_ within twenty-four hours, five tons of coal. is _a_ liable on this contract? 123. do floods, earthquakes, or lightning preventing performance excuse performance? 124. is a party to a contract excused from performance by reason of a strike? 125. may a party to a contract stipulate against strikes and acts of god in such a manner as to avoid liability therefor? 126. if a party to a contract renders performance impossible can he force performance? 127. what is meant by _conflict of law_? 128. does the law of the place where a contract is made, or the law of the place where the contract is enforced, prevail? 129. if a contract is made in one place, to be performed in another, the law of which place prevails in the interpretation of the contract? 130. what is meant by _assignment_ of a contract? 131. _a_, a singer, contracts to sing at _b's_ opera house for one week. can _a_ assign her contract to _c_, another singer? can _b_ assign his contract to _d_? 132. what is meant by _giving notice of assignment_? 133. is an assignment a contract? 134. what are the elements of a valid assignment? 135. does an assignment require a consideration? 136. write an assignment of a simple contract. 137. define _several liability_. 138. can a party be jointly and severally liable on the same contract? 139. if two parties are jointly liable on a contract can one of them be sued thereon without the other? 140. if two parties are severally liable on the same contract, can both be sued together thereon? 141. define liability _in solido_. give an example of liability _in solido_. 142. how may a contract be discharged by performance? give an example of a contract discharged by performance. 143. what is meant by _tender_? what constitutes legal tender? 144. does united states statute or a state statute make certain money legal tender? 145. what kinds of money constitute legal tender? 146. _a_ owes _b_ $5.00. he tenders him the amount in nickels. is the tender good? 147. _a_ owes _b_ $500.00. he tenders him a certified check for the amount. is the tender good? 148. can a contract be discharged by a subsequent agreement? 149. _a_ agrees to dig a well for _b_ for $10.00. before _a_ starts work, _b_ changes his mind, and offers _a_ $1.00 in settlement. is the contract discharged if _a_ accepts the $1.00? 150. define _warranty_. 151. give an example of warranty to a contract. 152. does breach of warranty discharge the contract? 153. does breach of warranty give rise to an action for damages? 154. define _rescission_. 155. give an example of rescission. 156. define _statu quo_. 157. define _breach of contract_. 158. give an example of breach of contract. 159. in case of breach of contract must the other party wait until the time for performing the entire contract elapses, or may he sue at once? 160. define _bankruptcy_. 161. by what kind of law is bankruptcy regulated? 162. does bankruptcy discharge a contract? 163. define _voluntary bankruptcy_. 164. who may become a voluntary bankrupt? 165. define involuntary bankruptcy. who may become an involuntary bankrupt? 166. define _act of bankruptcy_. 167. enumerate acts of bankruptcy. 168. at common law could one party to a contract compel another to perform it specifically? under present law can a contract for sale of personal property be enforced specifically? 169. what is the measure of damages for failure to deliver merchandise under a contract of sale? 170. how did the court of equity originate? 171. are juries used in courts of equity? 172. what classes of cases are tried in equity? 173. does a court of equity have jurisdiction of a case where there is a plain and adequate remedy at law? 174. with what kind of contracts is equity especially concerned? 175. give an example of a contract which may be enforced specifically by a court of equity. 176. write a form for a simple contract between _a_ and _b_ for the sale of a horse. principal and agent 1. what is meant by the term _agency_? 2. give an example of a transaction completed by an agent. 3. is there a limitation upon the kinds of business which may be transacted by an agent? 4. distinguish principal and agent from master and servant. 5. define and give an example of _principal_. 6. define and give an example of _agent_. 7. define and give an example of _agency_. 8. define _infant_. 9. is a married woman seventeen years of age an infant? 10. may an infant be a principal? 11. define and distinguish _void_ and _voidable contracts_. 12. may an idiot, insane, or drunken person act as principal? 13. may a corporation or partnership transact business through agents? 14. may a child eight years of age act as agent? 15. in general, what persons may act as agents? 16. may a person act as agent who is not capable of acting for himself? 17. may a person whose interests are opposed to those of his principal act as agent? 18. may corporations or partnerships serve as agents? 19. must an agent's authority to act as agent be in writing? 20. may an agent be appointed or authorized to act by implied contract? 21. define and give an example of _implied contract_. 22. what is meant by _ratifying an act of an agent_. 23. give an example of a principal's ratification of an unauthorized act of an agent. 24. give an example of a contract of agency which must be in writing. 25. why must some contracts be in writing? 26. what are the principal provisions of the statute of frauds? 27. must contracts of agency authorizing an agent to complete a land transfer be in writing? 28. must a contract authorizing an agent to procure a purchaser for a house and lot be in writing? 29. can a third party rely upon the statements of an agent that he has authority to act as agent? 30. may a person do through an agent anything which he may lawfully do by himself? 31. _a_ employs _b_ to purchase votes for an act pending in a state legislature. is _a_ or _b_, or both, guilty of a crime? 32. _a_ employs _b_ to paint a picture, and _b_ employs _c_ to paint the picture. must _a_ accept the work of _c_? 33. what things are necessary to enable a person to ratify the acts of an alleged agent? 34. may a forgery be ratified? 35. give a classification of agents. 36. _a_ is employed to deliver a package for _b_. what kind of an agent is _b_? 37. give an example of a universal agent. 38. enumerate the duties a principal owes his agent. 39. _a_ employs _b_ to work in his garden. _b_ works for ten days, no compensation having been agreed upon. how much, if anything, can _b_ recover from _a_? 40. if an agent abandons his agency before the time of his agency expires, can he recover anything for work performed? if so, how much? 41. what duty, if any, does a principal owe to his servant as to furnishing a safe place in which to work? 42. what rules, if any, does a servant assume? 43. in general, what are the liabilities of a principal to third persons who deal with an agent? 44. is a principal liable to a third person who has dealt with an agent, who acted within the apparent but not the actual scope of his authority? 45. is a principal liable to third persons for lots committed by an agent within the scope of the agent's authority? 46. give an example of a lot or private wrong committed by an agent while acting for his principal, for which the principal is not liable. 47. enumerate, in general, the duties an agent owes his principal. 48. is an agent liable to his principal for mistakes of judgment or discretion? 49. is an agent who acts without compensation ever liable to his principal for negligence? if so, give an example. 50. enumerate, in general, the liabilities of an agent to third persons with whom he deals. 51. _a_, an agent for _b_, sells goods to _c_, in his own name. _c_ afterwards discovers that _a_ is agent for _b_. can _c_ hold _a_? 52. if an agent procures a contract for his principal by means of fraud is the agent liable personally on this contract? 53. if an agent, believing he has authority to act as an agent, where in fact he does not, reveals all the facts of his agency to a third party with whom he is dealing, is he liable personally to such third party if it turns out that he acted without authority? 54. define and give an example of _undisclosed principal_. 55. is an undisclosed principal when discovered, liable for the acts of his agent? 56. is an agent of an undisclosed principal personally liable to third persons for acts of agency after the undisclosed principal is discovered? 57. may there be an undisclosed principal to a negotiable instrument? 58. what is meant by _apparent authority_ of an agent as distinguished from _actual authority_? 59. give an example of an agency where the apparent authority of the agent conflicts with the actual authority. 60. if an agent appears to have authority to act for another, but in fact never received any authority, can third persons rely upon his apparent authority? 61. do customary powers belonging to an agent come within the meaning of apparent authority? 62. may a principal limit an agent's apparent authority by printing limitations in the agent's order sheet and in making contracts with third persons? if so, give an example. 63. define and give an example of _secret instructions_. 64. can a principal evade responsibility to third persons by secret instructions given to an agent? 65. if a third party dealing with an agent knows of the secret instructions, is he bound by them? 66. define and give an example of _sub-agent_. 67. is a sub-agent responsible to the agent? 68. is an agent ever responsible for the acts of a sub-agent? 69. what matters, if any, may an agent delegate? 70. define and give examples of _mechanical_ and _ministerial duties_. 71. distinguish an agency requiring personal skill, discretion, and judgment, from one requiring the performance of ministerial or mechanical duties. 72. when, if at all, is an agent authorized to collect? 73. is an agent authorized to sell goods, always authorized to collect for them? 74. is an agent authorized to collect, authorized to take checks? 75. how should an agent authorized to sign a written instrument for his principal, sign? 76. may an agent authorized to sign a promissory note for his principal, sign his principal's name without his own? 77. an agent authorized to sign a written contract for his principal signs his own name followed by the word, _agent_; _e.g._, "_a, agent._" is the principal bound? 78. when, if at all, is an agent authorized to warrant the quality of personal property sold? 79. define _warranty_. 80. give an example of an agent who is impliedly authorized to warrant. 81. do usage and custom have anything to do with the agent's implied authority to warrant? 82. define _factor_, and give an example. 83. do factors have possession of the goods? 84. do factors have implied authority to collect? 85. do factors have the right to sell goods in their own name? 86. is a commission merchant a factor? 87. define _broker_. 88. distinguish _broker_ and _factor_. 89. give an example of broker. 90. is a real estate agent a broker, or a factor? 91. in what respect, if any, does an auctioneer differ from an ordinary agent? 92. what is meant by _licensed auctioneers_? 93. are auctioneers' fees ever regulated by statute? 94. what is meant by _auctioneer's lien_? 95. when, if at all, may an auctioneer sell on credit? 96. may an auctioneer make his own terms of sale? are all third persons bound by the terms advertised? 97. define and give an example of _del credere_ agent. 98. must a _del credere_ agent receive a separate consideration for his guaranty? 99. when is a real estate agent entitled to receive his commission? 100. does the contract of a real estate broker differ from the contract of any other agent? 101. how may an agency be terminated? 102. give an example of an agency terminated by lapse of time, and of one terminated by act of parties. 103. may all agencies be terminated at the will of the parties? 104. what is meant by _notice to third persons of termination of an agency_, and when, if at all, is this notice necessary? 105. explain _termination of agency by operation of law_. 106. in case of termination of agency by death of principal must third parties be notified? 107. does injury or liability of an agent ever terminate an agency? if so, under what circumstances? 108. define _agency coupled with an interest_. 109. is an agency coupled with an interest revocable at the will of either party? 110. _a_ employs an agent at a salary of one hundred dollars per month, promising him 1% commission in addition, on all orders taken in excess of $1,000 per week. is this an agency coupled with an interest? 111. give an example of an agency coupled with an interest. [illustration: chamber of commerce, chicago, ill.] commercial law part ii partnership =66. in general.= a party may trade and enter into contracts by himself, or he may associate with himself others. a person is not obliged by law to transact business solely by himself. he is permitted, for the purpose of having labor, capital and skill joined in one enterprise, to combine with others. where a person joins with himself one or more persons for the purpose of transacting business as a unit, the firm composed of the two or more persons thus joined is called a _partnership_. a partnership may be defined to be a contract between two or more persons, by which their labor, skill or property is joined in an enterprise for common profit, and in which each partner may act as principal. the principal features of a partnership are, the right of each partner to act as principal for the other partner, and the individual liability of each partner for the acts of the partnership. _a_ and _b_ agree to combine their efforts in operating a tea and coffee store. each may bind the other by contract, made within the scope of the business, and each is liable individually to pay the debts incurred by the partnership. =67. how a partnership is created.= a partnership is created by a contract. this contract may be oral, express or implied. many partnerships are created by carefully drawn, written instruments, in which the rights and duties of each party are set forth in detail; while others are made by oral agreement. any contract of importance should, for the purpose of having a record of the exact understanding of the parties, be made in writing. as between themselves, parties cannot be partners except such was their intention. sometimes, parties are considered partners as to third persons, with whom they deal, and are liable as partners, where there is no intent to form a partnership, and when none exists as between themselves. this relationship, called _partnership by estoppel_, is based on equitable reasons and is discussed more at length under a separate section. as between the partners themselves, to constitute a partnership, there must be a contract to that effect. this requires an assent on the part of all the parties, based upon a valid consideration. parties may enter into an agreement to enter into a partnership at a future time. in this event, the partnership does not exist as such until the time provided for in the contract arrives, and until the conditions of the executory agreement have been complied with. a partnership may be created for any lawful purpose. if the partnership contract is procured through fraud or misrepresentation, it may be avoided by reason thereof. =68.= _who may be partners._ any person competent to contract on his own behalf may enter into a contract. (see "competency of parties," chapter on contracts.) an infant, or person under legal age, may enter into a partnership contract the same as he may enter into any other contract. the law does not prohibit it. but contracts by infants are voidable. they may be renounced by the infant at his pleasure. for example, if _a_, of legal age, enters into a partnership contract with _b_, seventeen years of age, _b_ may renounce his obligation to _a_ at any time he pleases, before he has reached legal age. _a_, however, cannot renounce his partnership contract on account of the infancy of _b_. _b_ may ratify his contract after becoming of legal age. if _b_, after becoming of legal age, refuses to continue the partnership, and refuses to carry out his partnership agreement, he is deemed in law to have renounced his partnership, and is not liable for the obligation of the partnership. if, however, after reaching legal age, _b_ continues the partnership relationship for an appreciable length of time, he is deemed in law to have ratified the agreement, and is thereafter liable thereon. _b_ may not only renounce the partnership agreement as to his partner, _a_ but also as to third persons dealing with the partnership. _a_, however, is responsible individually upon the partnership contracts with third persons, and cannot take advantage of _b's_ infancy. it is no defense for him. drunken persons, insane persons, and idiots cannot enter into partnership agreements. a married woman could not enter into contracts at common law, but by statute is now permitted to make contracts, with a few minor limitations, such as acting as surety for her husband, or making contracts with her husband. =69. partnership name.= the members of a partnership may use any name they desire, so long as the name does not interfere with the fixed rights of others. the members of a partnership may use the name of one of the partners, or the combined names of all, or of a part of the partners, or a name separate and distinct from the names of any of the partners. for example, if _a_, _b_, and _c_ form a partnership, they may use as a partnership name, "the _a_ co.," "the _a_, _b_, co.," "the _a_, _b_, _c_ co.," "the _x_ co.," or any fictitious name they may determine upon. some states provide by statute, that a partnership using a name not revealing the individual members of a partnership, must, in order to sue in the partnership name, file with a county official the names of the members composing the firm. other states by statute prohibit the use of fictitious names. a partnership cannot be bound by any other name than its own. where a partnership has adopted a firm name, contracts made in the name of one of the individual members do not bind the partnership. a partnership may change its firm name. this may be done by agreement, express or implied. if the members of a partnership do not expressly agree to change the name, but a new name is used by one or more of the members, and the change is acquiesced in by the other members, they are deemed in law to have agreed to the new name. a partnership may use two firm names. this sometimes occurs when a firm has branches. one name is used for one branch and another for the second branch. in this event the partners are liable for contracts made in either name. =70. names applied to different kinds of partners.= depending upon the nature of their relationship to the partnership, partners are said to be _secret_, _silent_, _ostensible_, _nominal_, or _dormant_. a _secret partner_ is one who keeps the fact of his membership in the partnership from the public. this does not enable him to escape liability as a partner. he is in the position of an undisclosed principal. (see "undisclosed principal," chapter on agency.) so long as a secret partner keeps the fact of his membership from the public, of course he will not be sued as a member. but his liability exists in spite of this secret, and when discovered his liability may be enforced. a _silent partner_ is one who takes no active part in the operation of the partnership business. his name may be known as a partner, or not. he is not necessarily a secret partner. he may be well known as a member of the partnership, but if he takes no active part in the management, he is said to be a silent partner. a silent partner is individually liable for the obligations of the partnership, the same as any partner. an _ostensible partner_ is one who permits himself to be held out or represented as a partner, when in fact he is not a partner. he is responsible as a partner to third persons who deal with the firm, and to whom he has been held out as a partner. for example, _a_ and _b_ trade as the rodway co., _a_ in company with _c_, tries to buy goods of _d_. _d_ knows _c_ but does not know _a_ and _b_. _a_ with _c's_ consent, tells _d_ that _c_ is a member of the rodway co. _c_ is liable as an ostensible partner. more commonly the ostensible partner permits his name to be used as a part of the partnership name when in fact he is not a member of the partnership. if _a_ and _b_ form a partnership and with _c's_ consent use the name, "_a_ _b_ and _c_ co.," _c_ is liable on the partnership obligations, in spite of the fact that as between himself and _a_ and _b_, he is not a partner. if a partner is advertised to third parties as such, without his knowledge or consent, he is an ostensible partner, but is not liable as a partner. a _nominal partner_ is one who permits his name to be used as a member of the partnership without being a member of the partnership. ordinarily he is paid something for the use of his name, but does not have a share in the profits. a nominal partner is liable to third persons as a partner, but as to the other partners, he does not have the rights or liabilities of a partner. the term, _dormant partner_, is sometimes used synonymously with secret partner. technically, it means that the partner is both unknown and silent. it combines the elements of a secret and a silent partner. the terms, _general_ and _special_ partner, are commonly used. by general partner, is meant the one who shares equally in the profits and losses of the partnership transactions. the term, special partner, means that the partner, as between the other partners, does not share equally in the profits, nor is he responsible to the other partners for an equal share of the losses. as to third persons, the terms general and special partners have no significance; for example, if _a_, _b_ and _c_ enter into a partnership, _a_ and _b_ each to furnish two fifths of the capital, and each to have two fifths of the profits, and _c_ is to furnish one fifth of the capital, and receive one fifth of the profits, _a_ and _b_ are general partners and _c_ is a special partner. as to third persons dealing with the partnership _a_, _b_ and _c_, each are individually liable. =71. partnership agreements as between partners.= in considering the question as to whether a partnership exists, it must be regarded from two points. first, is there a partnership as between partners; second, is there a partnership as to third persons? a partnership may exist as between the partners themselves. when a partnership exists between the partners themselves, there can be no question about its existing as to third persons. as between the partners themselves, a partnership cannot exist unless there is a contract express or implied, by which they mutually agree or consent to the partnership. if _a_ and _b_ agree, either orally or in writing, to engage in a partnership enterprise, and do so engage in a joint business, a partnership exists between them. if _a_ trades alone as the "_a_ co." and, desiring to obtain credit from _b_, tells _b_ that _c_ is a member of the _a_ co., even though _c_ ratifies the unauthorized act of _a_, by stating to _b_ that he is a member of the _a_ co., this does not constitute him as a partner to _a_. as to _b_, however, he is a partner and is liable as such. as to _a_, he is not a partner, and is not entitled to a share in the profits. if the intent of the parties to form a partnership, is clear, from their express agreement, or from an agreement implied from their acts or conduct, a partnership, without question, exists between them. many business arrangements are made by which property, skill, or labor is combined under peculiar arrangements, as to the division of profits and losses, making it difficult to tell whether a partnership exists. it is not essential that the word, "partnership," be used to have an agreement constitute a partnership. if it is the intent of the parties thereto to create a partnership, one exists regardless of the term used. an agreement to share losses, or to share profits in an enterprise, is some evidence of a partnership, but is not sufficient of itself to constitute a partnership. _a_ and _b_ may agree each to furnish his own tools in drilling an oil well, and if a profit is made, to divide the profits, and if a loss is sustained to bear the loss out of their individual funds. these facts, do not show an intent to form a partnership, and do not make _a_ and _b_ partners as to themselves. if, however, _a_ and _b_ contribute one hundred dollars ($100.00) each to a partnership fund, and combine the tools possessed by each toward a partnership fund, and agree to share equally the profits and losses, the intention is clear that a partnership is intended, and these facts constitute _a_ and _b_ partners. =72. partnership as to third parties.= where a partnership exists as between the partners themselves there is no question about its existing as to third persons dealing with the partnership as such. a party cannot hold himself out to the world as a partner, and by means of a private arrangement with his apparent partners, evade liability as a partner. it is generally conceded that a secret arrangement made between partners that one shall not be liable as a partner, if made known to a third person dealing with the partnership, will relieve the apparent partner from liability to such third person. for example, if _a_ and _b_ are doing business as the "_a b_ co.," and _a_ lends his name to the company for a fixed consideration, _b_ receives all the profits and is liable for all the debts. if _c_ deals with the "_a b_ co.," not knowing of the private contract between _a_ and _b_, _a_ is liable individually upon the contract. if, however, _c_ at the time he deals with the "_a b_ co.," is informed of the actual connection of _a_ with the company, he cannot hold _a_ liable as a partner. if a third person extends credit to one of the partners, knowing that the purchase is for the benefit of the partnership, he can hold liable, only the party to whom he extended credit. if, however, he sells to one of the partners, not knowing that he is a partner of a firm, and the firm gets the benefit of the purchase, the firm is liable for the debt. a partnership, like a principal in agency, is liable for the torts or private wrongs of the individual partners, committed in the course of the partnership business. if _a_, a member of the _a b_ co. partnership, uses fraud in purchasing goods, the _a b_ co., is liable for the fraud. if _a_, a member of the _a b_ co., gas fitters, carelessly connect a gas burner, thereby causing an explosion, and injury to _c_, the _a b_ co., is liable for the injury. =73. powers and property of a partnership.= a partnership has the power to transact business in its firm name. unless prohibited by statute, it may sue and be sued in its firm name, regardless of the names of the individual partners. each member of a partnership is regarded as an agent of all the other members of the partnership, with authority to bind the partnership by any contract made within the scope of the partnership business. a partner may deal individually in matters outside the scope of the partnership business. for example, _a_, _b_ and _c_ form a partnership for the purpose of buying, selling and leasing real estate. _a_, _b_ and _c_ are authorized to act for each other, in doing all the things reasonably connected with the transaction of real estate business. if _a_ orders groceries in the firm name, his partners may deny and avoid the obligation, on the ground that is is not within the scope of the partnership affairs. the grocer selling _a_ groceries in the firm name cannot claim that _b_ and _c_ authorized _a_ to buy groceries. the purchase is clearly outside the real estate business. if, however, _a_ purchases a house and lot in the firm name and uses it personally, the seller can hold the partnership for the purchase price. a partnership is empowered to sign notes, only when necessary to the transaction of the partnership business. partnerships may hold the title to personal property in the name of the firm. this does not prevent the individual members from holding property individually at the same time. as between the partners themselves, only that personal property mutually agreed to belong to the partnership is partnership funds. even as to third persons dealing with the partnership, the actual agreement of the individual members as to what is, and what is not partnership funds governs, except in the case of fraud. a partnership cannot represent that it owns certain property, or that certain purchases are made for the partnership for the purpose of obtaining credit, and then claim that it is owned by an individual member. property purchased by partnership funds, or improved with partnership funds, belongs to the partnership. real estate purchased with partnership funds is regarded as belonging to the firm, even though title is held in the name of one of the partners. the partner in whose name the property is held is said to be the legal owner, but the partnership is the equitable owner. firm creditors may subject it to pay firm obligations. =74. liability of persons held out as partners.= if a person permits himself to be held out as a partner, he will be bound as a partner, as to third persons dealing with the partnership with this in view. it matters not that the party held out as a partner is not a partner in fact. the real relation will protect the apparent partner, as against the other partners, but not as against third parties who deal with the firm, relying upon his being a partner. what amounts to being held out as a partner is a question of fact, which must be determined by the circumstances surrounding each particular case. if _a_, without authority of _b_, tells _c_ that _b_ is his partner in the shoe business and that they are trading as the "_a b_ co.," and _c_ sells them an order of shoes, without investigating whether _b_ actually is a partner, _b_ is not liable as a partner for the obligation. the authority to hold a person out as a partner must come from the partner so held out. it may come from his assent or his neglect in denying the relationship when he learns that he is being advertised as a partner. for example, suppose _a_ borrows five hundred dollars ($500.00) of _b_ and promises to give _b_ a one-half interest in his grocery business, if _b_ so desires, on condition that _b_ spend his afternoons working in the store, and _b_, not considering himself a partner, permits _c_ to tell third persons that he is a partner. as a result, _b_ cannot deny partnership liability as against third persons who consider him a partner in dealing with the partnership. =75. duties and liabilities of partners as to each other.= the relation of partners to each other is a contract relation. each partner must carry out the terms of the contract. ordinarily, partnerships require the devotion of the entire time and attention of each partner to the partnership business. partners are not permitted to engage in any business for themselves which will interfere with the partnership business, or take their time and attention away from the partnership business. each partner owes that duty of fidelity to the other members of the partnership. a partner as an individual may deal with the firm, and may act as agent for others in dealing with the firm, if it is with the consent and knowledge of the other partners. a partner cannot sell his interest in the firm to another, and have the new partner take his place as a member of the partnership, without the consent of the other partners. in any event, the withdrawal of one partner and the substitution of another dissolves the old partnership and establishes a new partnership. one partner may assign or transfer his interest in a partnership but this dissolves the partnership, and gives the purchaser the right to his seller's interest in the funds of the partnership. it gives the purchaser no right to participate in the management of the business. if by the terms of a partnership agreement, the partnership is to subsist for a specified length of time, and one partner withdraws or refuses to continue, he is liable in damages to the other partners, for breach of contract. if the partnership is organized without regard to any specified duration, a partner may withdraw at will, and thus dissolve the partnership. partners must devote their entire time and attention to the business, unless the partnership agreement provides otherwise. each partner is entitled to an equal share of the profits. if one partner deals unfairly with another, the latter cannot bring an ordinary suit at law for recovery of the amount due him, or for his damages, but he must bring a suit in equity, setting up the facts, and must demand an accounting. the court will then determine the rights of the partners. if a partnership is dissolved, and the partners expressly agree that a certain sum is owing by one partner to another, the latter may sue the former for this amount, in an ordinary action at law. =76. liability of partnership to third persons.= a partnership is liable as such, upon its contracts to third persons. this means that the obligation is in the nature of a joint one against all the partners, and not a several one against the individual partners. there is an individual liability of each partner, called a liability of each partner in solido. this liability is discussed in this section under the title, "liability of individual members of a partnership." a third person, in commencing a suit against a partnership, must sue all the partners, or be subject to the risk of having the case dismissed at the objection of the one sued. all the property of a partnership may be subjected to the payment of partnership obligations. =77. liability of individual members of a partnership for partnership obligations.= while a suit brought against one partner for a partnership debt may be dismissed if objected to by the partner sued, if not objected to, and judgment is taken, it may be enforced against the individual assets of the partner sued. in this event, in most jurisdictions, the other partners are discharged from liability. if the partnership is sued either in the partnership name, or in the name of all the individual partners, the individual members are still liable in solido for the debt. by _in solido_ is meant, _liable for the whole_. if one partner is compelled to pay all or more than his proportion of a partnership debt, he may recover the excess of his share, ratably from the other partners. a member of a partnership may have partnership assets and individual assets. a creditor of the partnership may satisfy his claim out of the firm assets, or out of a partner's individual assets, except where there are individual creditors. in the latter event, the partnership creditors cannot subject individual partners assets to the disadvantage of the individual creditors. on the other hand, individual creditors cannot subject a partner's share in the partnership assets to the disadvantage of partnership creditors. this means that in case of insolvency of either a partner or of the partnership, firm creditors must first exhaust firm assets, and take the balance of individual assets after individual creditors have been satisfied. it means, further, that individual creditors must satisfy their debts out of individual partner's assets, and can only subject the balance of firm assets after firm creditors have been satisfied. if there are no partnership assets at all, and no solvent partners, firm creditors are treated on the same basis as individual creditors, and the individual assets of the partners are divided _pro rata_ among partnership and individual creditors alike. =78. change of membership.= a partnership depends for its existence upon the continuation of the same membership. if one partner withdraws, the partnership is, by that act, dissolved. if a new member is admitted, the partnership is dissolved and a new one created. a partner cannot escape his liability as a partner by withdrawing from the partnership. by this act, he terminates the partnership, and no further liabilities can be created against him except as to those persons having no notice of his withdrawal; but he is still liable for the old partnership debts. a substituted partner is not liable for the debts incurred before he enters the firm, unless he expressly assumes such debts. if he expressly assumes them, this does not relieve the outgoing partner from liability, unless this is assented to by partnership creditors. if it is borne in mind that a change in membership dissolves a partnership, and any partnership that exists thereafter is separate and distinct from the old one, and dates from the withdrawal of the retiring partner, or admission of the new partner, the individual liability of the partners is easily determined. for example, if _a_, _b_ and _c_ are partners in a dry goods business, and _b_ withdraws, _b_ is still personally liable for the debts of the _a b c_ co. the partnership ceases at the time of his withdrawal. if _a_ sells his interest to _d_, who becomes a member with the consent of _b_ and _c_, _a_ is still liable to creditors who became creditors before _a's_ withdrawal. _d_ is not liable for the debts incurred before his admission as a partner, unless he expressly so agrees. =79. death of a partner.= the death of a partner terminates the partnership. the remaining partners may agree to continue the partnership, which amounts to the formation of a new partnership. in case of death of one partner, title to the partnership property is in the surviving partners. they must collect the assets and may sue on firm obligations. they cannot, as survivors, continue the business further than is necessary to wind up the affairs of the partnership. they must first pay all firm obligations, and distribute the proceeds among themselves and the representatives of the deceased partner. =80. survivorship.= survivorship is the term applied to the relation to the partnership of the remaining partners, after a dissolution. the partners remaining after a dissolution are known as _survivors_. the title to the partnership property vests in the survivors, and they must collect the assets, pay the liabilities and distribute the proceeds among themselves and the representatives of the other partners. by statute, in some states, surviving partners are permitted to purchase firm assets at a fair appraised valuation. surviving partners have the right to retain possession of the partnership property, and to do those things necessary to wind up the affairs of the partnership. they are not permitted to divide any firm assets among themselves, until all firm debts are paid. if _a_, _b_ and _c_ are partners in the grocery business, and _c_ dies, the title to the property rests in _a_ and _b_, who have the authority to sue for the debts owing, and may be sued for the debts owed by the firm. they have the right to draw checks on the firm checking account, but no right to incur further obligations. in the absence of special statute, they have no right to purchase the business for themselves, and if they choose to continue it, they do so at their own individual risk, and must account for all profits made. =81. dissolution of partnerships.= a partnership may be dissolved by lapse of time. if a partnership is entered into under an express agreement that it is to subsist for a certain length of time, lapse of the stipulated period works a dissolution. a partnership may be dissolved by mutual agreement of the partners. a partnership may also be dissolved by any change of membership, whether it be the withdrawal of a member, admission of a new member, or death of a member. bankruptcy of a member, or bankruptcy of the partnership itself, works a dissolution. if one party violates his duties as a partner, or if for any reason, the partnership ceases as a result of a decree of court, there is a dissolution. =82. notice of dissolution.= persons who deal with a partnership through one of the partners, or through an authorized agent, have the right to assume that the partnership will continue to exist. if a partnership is dissolved by lapse of time, by mutual agreement, or by withdrawal or entrance of another partner, notice must be given of such change, to protect the members of the former partnership against contracts of third persons, made subsequently to the dissolution. business people, who have had former dealings with the partnership, must receive actual notice. these notices may be sent by mail, or delivered orally, or in writing. a public announcement in a newspaper is sufficient to protect former partners against contracts subsequently made by persons who have not previously dealt with the firm. in case of dissolution of a partnership by operation of law, such as by death of a member, bankruptcy, or decree of court, no notice is necessary. the act which causes the dissolution is deemed to be notice to everyone. =83. distribution of firm and individual assets after dissolution.= as a general rule, firm creditors are entitled to firm assets. the balance goes to individual partners. individual creditors are entitled to individual assets. the balance goes to firm creditors. if, however, the partnership is insolvent as a firm, and there is no living solvent partner, in the distribution of firm assets, firm creditors are treated the same as individual creditors. firm real estate may be subjected by firm creditors to the payment of their claims. after firm creditors are satisfied, firm real estate is treated as the real estate of the individual members, and descends to the heirs of the partners, and does not pass as personal property to their personal representatives. =84. limited partnership.= most states by statute permit limited partnerships to be formed. in general, a limited partnership differs from an ordinary partnership in that some of the members, called special partners, are not individually liable for the obligations of the partnership. the statutes of the different states differ somewhat as to the purposes for which a limited partnership may be formed. in general, however, a limited partnership may be formed to carry on any business except banking and insurance. a limited partnership must have at least one general partner who is individually liable for the obligations of the partnership. the special partners contribute certain fixed sums, which must be paid before the partnership starts business, and beyond which the special partners are not liable. generally, special partners are not permitted to manage the business. a limited partnership is generally required to file with a public officer a certificate showing its membership, the purpose for which it is organized, the number of shares held by special partners, the assets, the total capital, and the names of the general partners. the purpose of a limited partnership is to enable persons to invest a certain amount of capital in an enterprise without being individually responsible beyond the amount actually invested. limited partnerships are now largely supplanted by corporations. =85. form of partnership agreement.= articles of agreement entered into at chicago, ill., this ... day of ... 1909, by and between _a_, hereinafter designated as the first party, and _b_, hereinafter designated as the second party, both of chicago, ill. witnesseth that: 1. said parties agree to enter into a partnership for the purpose of engaging in and carrying on a general hardware business in the city of _chicago_ under the name of _cook county hardware co._ 2. the first party agrees to furnish his stock of goods, now located at his present hardware store in _chicago_, and said second party agrees to contribute _$5,000.00_ in cash immediately upon the signing of the agreement, said stock of goods, and said _$5,000.00_, to constitute the joint capital of the partnership. 3. said parties agree to devote their entire time and attention to the interests of the partnership business. 4. said parties agree to share equally the losses and expenses of said partnership, and at the expiration of each month, to divide equally the net profits reserving a fund sufficient to keep the original capital intact. 5. said parties agree that the partnership shall continue as long as the partners shall mutually so desire. in the event of either party's desiring to withdraw, said parties agree that each shall choose one arbitrator, the two thus chosen to select a third, who shall appraise the assets of the firm, and divide them into parts, which division shall be accepted as final by the parties hereto. and each party agrees to accept the portion allotted to him by said arbitrators. in witness whereof, the parties hereto have set their hands the day and year above written. signed a....................... b....................... signed in the presence of c....................... d....................... corporations =86.nature of a corporation.= a corporation has been defined to be "a collection of many individuals into one body, under a specific denomination having perpetual succession, under an artificial form and vested by the policy of the law, with the capacity of acting in several respects as an individual." in other words _corporation_ is the name applied to an association of persons authorized by law to create, by mutual contribution, a common fund for the purpose of transacting business without rendering the individual members personally liable for the debts of the association, beyond a certain amount. the object is to permit persons to obtain the advantage of large combinations of capital without involving, beyond certain limits, the private property of the individuals composing it. a corporation is an artificial person having an existence in many respects separate and apart from the members composing it. while it can only transact business by means of agents, the obligations created are the obligations of the artificial person, the corporation. the common fund or capital of the corporation, is the only property that can be subjected in payment of the debts. the individual property of the members is not the property of the corporation. [illustration: united states patent office, washington. d. c.] =87.corporations distinguished from partnerships.= a partnership may be created by mutual consent of the parties desiring to engage in that joint enterprise. the only limitation is that the enterprise must be for a lawful purpose. a person may form a partnership for the transaction of any kind of business which he may transact as an individual. a corporation, on the other hand, must have permission from the government to transact business. this permission is called its _franchise_. corporations cannot be formed for every purpose. that is, individuals are permitted to engage in lines of business denied to corporations. a corporation is an artificial person, regarded in law as distinct from the individuals composing it. a partnership is not distinct from the individuals composing it, and the individual members are personally liable for the debts of the partnership. a corporation has a continuous existence; it continues to live regardless of death of some of its members, or regardless of a change of membership. a partnership ceases to exist upon the death of a member, or by a change of membership. a corporation's members do not have the right, as such, to act as agents of the corporation for the purpose of transacting business. the agents of the corporation are appointed in a manner prescribed by law, and by the rules of the corporation. in a partnership, each member is the recognized and authorized agent of the partnership. each member may bind the partnership by any contract made within the scope of the partnership business. for example, if _a_ and _b_ form a partnership for the purpose of selling real estate, either _a_ or _b_ by reason of the partnership agreement, is authorized to sell real estate in the name of the firm. if _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_, and _e_ are stockholders in the _x_ co. neither _a_, _b_, _c_, _d_ or _e_ is entitled, by reason of his being a stockholder, to make contracts for the corporation. a board of directors must be elected by the stockholders, who in turn elect officers, and appoint agents authorized to transact the business of the corporation. =88. powers of a corporation.= corporations are not permitted, as such, to transact business of every kind. a corporation is an artificial being created by law. it can exist only for those purposes enumerated by law. corporations, as such, have well recognized, or distinguished, powers or characteristics. the ordinary powers of a corporation are as follows: _first_--the power of perpetual succession. _second_--the right to sue and be sued, and to receive and grant in their corporate name. _third_--the right to purchase and hold real estate and personal property. _fourth_--the right to have a common seal. _fifth_--the right to make by-laws. it was long ago decided that a franchise given by the government to a corporation, cannot be revoked or changed by the government, unless such a reservation is made by the government at the time the franchise is granted. at present, such reservations are made in granting most franchises, either by express reservation in the franchise itself, by general statutory provision, or by constitutional limitations. =89. creation of corporations.= a corporation cannot be organized merely by agreement of the members. it must obtain permission of the government, state or national, to operate as a corporation, before it can lawfully exercise any corporate rights. originally, the right to become a corporation was granted by express permission of the king. the franchise, or right granted, was called the corporate charter. in this country, charters originally were granted by special legislative grants. while the united states constitution does not expressly provide for the formation of national corporations, congress is deemed to have the right to create them for the purpose of carrying out the express functions of the government, expressly granted by the united states constitution. for example, the constitution expressly grants the united states congress the power to coin money and regulate the value thereof, and to levy and collect taxes. it is given no express power to organize national banks, but under the provisions giving it power to make laws to carry into execution all of the powers expressly granted, it is held to have the power to provide for the organization of national banks. most corporations are organized under state laws. originally, charters were granted by special acts of the state legislatures. these charters were decided to be contracts between the state and the corporation, which could not be changed or revoked at the desire of the legislature. at the present time, most states have general permissive statutes, under which corporations may be organized. these statutes generally reserve the right to the state, to revoke or change the charter at the will of the legislature. many states have constitutional provisions limiting the power of the legislature to grant irrevocable charters. the statutes of the different states vary somewhat as to the things required of persons desiring to organize a corporation, but the primary requirements are similar. in general, the following are the statutory requirements of the states for the organization of a corporation. the persons desiring to organize a corporation, not less than three (some states require more), a majority of whom are citizens of the state, must sign a paper, called the _articles of corporation_, which contains the name of the proposed corporation, the place where it is to be located, the purpose for which it is to be formed, and the place where its principal business is to be transacted, the amount of its capital stock, and the number of shares into which it is to be divided. the articles of incorporation are sent to a designated state officer, usually the secretary of state. upon the filing of the articles of incorporation with the proper state officers, the incorporators may open the books of the company, for stock subscriptions. the time and place of opening the books is announced, usually by thirty days advertising in a newspaper. a portion of the stock, usually ten percent, must be paid at the time the subscription is made. when the required portion of the authorized capital stock is subscribed, by advertising notice, the stockholders may meet and elect a board of directors. the board usually consists of from five to fifteen directors. the directors are required to take an oath of office. some of the governing rules of the corporation, usually called by-laws or regulations, are enacted by the stockholders. some regulations may be enacted by the board of directors. the board of directors may elect the officers provided for by the regulations, and then proceed to transact the business of the corporation. corporations not for profit may be organized. such corporations are organized in the same manner as corporations for profit, except that there is no capital stock, and the directors are usually called trustees. church and fraternal organizations are common examples of corporations not for profit. =90. names of corporations.= a corporation must of necessity have a name by which it may be designated, and under which it can transact business. the statutes of the different states generally provide that the incorporators must designate the name which the corporation is to use. one corporation is not permitted to use a name already appropriated by another corporation. a corporation has no right to use a name other than the one given it by its charter. a corporation may prevent by injunction another organization from using a name which interferes with its corporate name. this is subject to the limitations that a corporation is not permitted to appropriate a name descriptive of an article or place. for example, a storage company was incorporated under the name of the "fireproof storage co." an individual with a fireproof building adopted the trade name "the allen fireproof storage co." the former company was not permitted to enjoin the latter from using the word _fireproof_, in the name of his company, since the word, _fireproof_, is descriptive of the kind of building used in the business, and cannot be appropriated by any one company or person. the states generally, by statute, provide a means by which a corporation may change its name. =91. kinds of corporations.= corporations are usually classified as public and private. public corporations include those corporations organized for the purpose of exercising public functions, and for carrying out government purposes. an incorporated city or village is a common example. a private corporation is one organized for the private benefit of its members. private corporations are either corporations for profit or corporations not for profit. corporations for profit have a capital stock, and are organized for the financial benefit of the members. ordinary trading or manufacturing corporations are examples. corporations not for profit have no capital stock, and are organized for charitable or social purposes. clubs, educational institutions, and churches are common examples. corporations organized for private gain, and which serve some public purpose, are sometimes classified as quasi-public corporations. express companies and telegraph and railway companies are common examples of the class. these companies are strictly private corporations. =92. when corporate existence commences.= the states generally provide by statute, for the organization of corporations. at present, corporations seldom are created by special grant of the legislatures. most states, by constitutional provisions, limit the power of the legislatures to create corporations by special act. persons desiring to organize a corporation, must comply with the general laws regulating their formation. as was pointed out in the section on creation of corporations, several steps must be taken to complete the organization of a corporation. the question often arises as to when the legal existence of a corporation commences. it is quite generally held that a corporation's legal existence dates from the filing of the articles of incorporation with the designated state office. after that time the corporation cannot deny its legal existence. neither can third persons dealing with the corporation deny the legal existence of the corporation. if the corporation fails to fulfil the remaining statutory provisions relating to the completion of the corporation, the state, through its officers, may revoke the corporation's right to continue as a corporation. a corporation does not have the right to transact business, until its organization is completed. it may have a legal existence before that time. =93. estoppel from denying corporate existence.= an association of persons pretending, innocently or otherwise, to be a corporation, not having complied with the legal requirements for creating a corporation, is not permitted to deny its corporate existence, for the purpose of avoiding its obligations. such an association is liable as a corporation for its obligations, and if there is no corporate property, the members of the association are liable personally. on the other hand, persons who deal with an association of persons which claims either by name, or by express statement, to be a corporation, cannot evade their liability to the association on the ground that the corporation has not been legally organized. as between the corporation and the state, which alone can give it power to exist as a corporation, no valid corporation exists until all the legal requirements are complied with. the state, through its proper officers, may deny corporate right to any association of persons who have not fully complied with the statutes regulating the creation of corporations. to create a corporation by estoppel, there must be an organization assuming to act as a corporation. if _a_ trades in his own name, a person dealing with him cannot claim that _a_ is a corporation by estoppel. but if _a_ trades as "the cook county lumber co.," and enters into a contract with _b_ in the name of the cook county lumber co., and signs his name as president of the company, he cannot deny its corporate existence. if _b_ purchases material of the cook county lumber co., he cannot refuse to pay for it on the ground that the cook county lumber co., is not a legally incorporated company. =94. corporate charter a contract.= originally in this country, the right to exist as a corporation was granted by special act of the legislature. it was early decided that this grant by a legislature could not be revoked or changed by subsequent act of the legislature. it was regarded as a contract. by reason of the fact that corporate charters are contracts, giving corporations the right to a continuous existence under the terms of the original grant, many states now have constitutional provisions, limiting the right of legislatures to grant irrevocable charters. those states having no such constitutional limitations, have a provision in their statutes authorizing the creation of corporations, and providing that all corporate charters or franchises be revocable or changeable at the will of the legislature. at the present time in most, if not all of the states, a corporation cannot obtain an irrevocable charter. their charters are granted with the reservation, or upon the condition, that the terms may be changed or revoked at any time. =95. de facto corporations.= in connection with corporations, the terms _de facto_ and _de jure_ are often used. by _de jure_ corporation is meant a corporation that has a perfectly legal existence; one that has complied with all the laws relating to its creation; one that cannot have its right to exist as a corporation denied by the state under whose laws it was created, on the ground that it has not complied with all the laws relating to its creation. by _de facto_ corporation is meant a corporation that has performed some of the functions of a corporation without having complied with all the legal requirements relating to its incorporation. to constitute a corporation _de facto_, it is usually conceded that there must have been laws under which the pretended corporation might lawfully have been organized, followed by some kind of an attempt to organize under these laws, and by a use of corporate functions. as between the corporation and the state, the state may stop the corporation from exercising corporate functions. as between the corporation and third persons dealing with it as such, in the absence of fraud, corporate existence of a _de facto_ corporation cannot be denied. =96. promoters.= persons who undertake the organization of corporations are called _promoters_. the promoter of a corporation need not be one of the incorporators, but he is the active man who engineers the enterprise. he is the one who interests capital, who induces persons to take the required amount of stock, who assembles the parties desiring or induced to organize the corporation. in short, he is the one who manages the organizing and starting of the corporation. oftimes much work must be done, many contracts made, and liabilities incurred before a corporation has any legal existence. just what connection the promoter has with the corporation, whether he may bind the future corporation, or make it liable for his acts of necessity, or by adoption, is often a close question. it must be borne in mind that before a corporation has a legal existence, it can incur no obligations as a corporation. before a corporation's legal existence commences it can have no authorized agents. if _a_, knowing where valuable undeveloped stone quarries are located, obtains options on the lands, interests men of means to promise to take stock in a future organization, performs all the preliminary work to the creation of a corporation, organized for the purpose of purchasing and operating said lands, and incurs debts in connection therewith in the name of the proposed company, the corporation, when completed, cannot be compelled to pay such obligations. it did not incur them. it had no power to incur them since its legal existence did not commence until a subsequent time. the obligation belongs to the promoter, or to those persons, if any, who authorized him to incur the debts. if, however, recurring to the former example, "the cuyahoga stone co.," is organized by _a_ to develop and operate such stone lands, and after the organization is completed with full knowledge of the obligations of _a_, it, as a corporation, agrees to pay said obligations, and to purchase _a's_ options on the lands for a specified amount, the obligations now become the obligations of the corporation. the corporation may be sued thereon, and its property subjected. this is called the adoption of a promoter's obligation by a corporation. a corporation is liable on its express, as well as on its implied contracts, and if it accepts valuable services of a promoter after it becomes a corporation, it is liable on an implied contract to pay for the same. services rendered by a promoter for a future corporation do not render a corporation liable therefor, unless adopted by the corporation after its legal existence commences. the states generally provide by statute, the time when a corporation's existence commences. these statutes vary somewhat, but in general provide that the corporation's existence commences when the proper articles of incorporation are filed with the secretary of state. =97. reorganization of corporations.= the right to exist as a corporation is a special privilege which cannot be sold or transferred to another. any property acquired by a corporation may be mortgaged, sold or transferred at the will of the corporation. the right to exist as a corporation, however, is a special privilege granted by the state, and cannot be transferred. any association of persons desiring to exercise the rights and privileges of a corporation must obtain such rights from the state. they cannot purchase such a right from an existing corporation. many of the states provide by statute for the organization of a corporation by those persons purchasing the property of public service corporations at a foreclosure sale. a common example is in case of a foreclosure of a mortgage on a railway. statutes of some states provide that the purchasers of such property at foreclosure sale may, and shall organize a corporation which shall carry out the purposes of the original corporation. where a corporation is organized and purchases the assets of the former corporation, the new corporation is not liable for the obligations of the old. sometimes the new corporation takes over the assets of the old corporation, and expressly assumes the obligations of the old. in this event, the new corporation is liable for its predecessor's debts. if the new corporation, in purchasing the assets of the old, uses unfair or fraudulent methods, the transfer will be set aside at the instance of creditors of the old corporation, or the new corporation will be deemed liable for the debts of the old corporation. in carrying out reorganization schemes, a transfer of assets must be fair and _bonâ fide_, or the sale will either be set aside as fraudulent, or the new organization will be deemed a continuation of the old, and liable for its debts. =98. consolidation of corporations.= the right to exist as a corporation does not carry with it the right to combine or consolidate with other corporations. where two or more corporations combine or consolidate, the resulting corporation is distinct from the combining corporations. the right to consolidate, like the right to exist as a corporation, is a special privilege granted by the state. consent must be obtained from the state before a valid consolidation can be made. most states provide by statute for the consolidation of certain corporations under certain prescribed conditions. before a valid consolidation can be effected, the provisions of these statutes must be complied with. some states require the payment of a consolidation tax. others require that parallel and competing railroads cannot consolidate. unless the charter of the corporation permits of consolidation without the consent of all the shareholders, and unless the shareholders have by valid resolution given the directors the right to consolidate, a consolidation cannot be made over the objection of any shareholder. an attempted consolidation under these circumstances may be enjoined by a dissenting stockholder, or if the consolidation is made over his objection the resulting consolidated company is liable in damages to him. when a consolidation has been legally made, the consolidated company is liable for the debts, and is entitled to the assets of the component corporations. =99. meetings and elections of corporations.= a corporation transacts its business through a board of managers. the shareholders or members of the corporation do not transact the business of the corporation directly, but through the governing board. in case of a corporation having a capital stock, this governing board is called the board of directors. in case the corporation has no capital stock, such as a church or charitable organization, the governing board is called the board of trustees. the charter, or statute under which corporations are formed, usually provides for annual meetings for the election of officers. if the corporation has no fixed place of meeting, notice must be given each stockholder of the place of such meeting. a corporation has no power to hold its meetings outside the state of its organization. it may employ agents to represent the corporation outside the state of its creation, but it should hold its corporate meetings within the state. if the time of holding the election of officers is fixed by statute, or by a regulation or by-laws of the corporation, the meeting should be held at that time. if for any reason a corporate election cannot, or is not held at the time designated, the old directors hold over until the new board is regularly elected. =100. voting at corporate meetings, quorum and proxy.= each shareholder or stockholder of a corporation is entitled to vote at the corporate meeting for the election of officers. usually the vote is by shares. each shareholder is entitled to one vote for each share he holds. some states, by statute, limit the right of a single shareholder to a certain number of votes. when this limitation is fixed, it usually limits the shareholders to one vote regardless of the number of shares held. such a limitation, where found, is for the protection of small shareholders. corporations keep books in which are kept the names of the shareholders. only the persons whose names appear upon the corporation's book as shareholders are entitled to vote. some states provide by statute for what is known as _cumulative voting_. instead of voting the number of shares he owns for each director, by cumulative voting a stockholder is entitled to vote for one director the number of shares he owns, multiplied by the number of directors to be elected. this is sometimes called _ticket voting_. for example, three directors are to be elected, and a shareholder holds ten shares. he may have ten votes for each director, or thirty votes for one director. this is for the protection of the small shareholder. by _quorum_ is meant the number of votes required to constitute an election. sometimes a quorum is based upon a majority of the number of shareholders present. in the absence of statute or corporate regulations to the contrary, this rule applies. statutes of some states provide that a two thirds majority of the shares of the corporation shall constitute a quorum. most states provide by statute for voting by _proxy_. this entitles one shareholder to give another written authority to vote his shares at a corporate meeting. this right does not exist in the absence of statute. a proxy may be revoked at the will of the shareholder giving it. =101. stockholders of a corporation.= the membership of a corporation is made up of the stockholders or shareholders. a corporation for profit is authorized by its charter to have a certain capitalization, or the capitalization is the total amount of the shares authorized to be issued. the charter usually requires that a certain percentage of shares subscribed be paid in before the corporation is authorized to elect directors. the charter usually provides that at least ten per cent of the capitalization be subscribed, and at least ten per cent of the amount subscribed be paid in, before directors can be elected. a stockholder is liable to the corporation on his subscription and, in the absence of any additional liability fixed by the charter, is not liable for the debts of the corporation for any amount in addition. formerly some of the states provided by statute for double liability of stockholders. in case of insolvency of the corporation, stockholders could be required to contribute an amount equal to their subscription in addition to paying their subscription in full. stockholders' double liability has been abolished by most states. at present a stockholder can be compelled to pay the full amount of his stock subscription, and no more. stockholders of national banks, corporations organized under united states laws, are liable for double the amount of their stock. those persons are regarded as stockholders who appear as such on the books of the company. a person may become a stockholder by purchasing stock from the corporation, or by purchasing it from another stockholder. any person legally competent to contract may become a stockholder. =102. certificate of stock.= written certificates are usually furnished shareholders, by corporations, as evidence of membership. these certificates are made transferable, in order that they may be indorsed by a shareholder, and made payable to a purchaser. when so indorsed, the purchaser is entitled to have the shares transferred on the books of the company, showing that he is a shareholder in the company. a certificate of stock does not of itself constitute ownership. it is merely evidence of ownership. a person may be a stockholder in a corporation by making a valid subscription, and by paying for the same, regardless of having received a certificate of stock. the following is a common form of stock certificate: the consolidated tack co. cleveland, ohio. incorporated under the laws of the state of ohio. no. 99 no. of shares -15 capital stock $1,000,000.00 this certifies that john smith is the owner of fifteen shares of $100 each of the capital stock of the consolidated tack co., transferable only on the books of the company, in person or by attorney, upon surrender of this certificate properly indorsed. in witness whereof said corporation has caused this certificate to be signed by its duly authorized officers, and to be sealed with the seal of the corporation. at cleveland, ohio, this 1st day of october, a. d. 1909. jack brown, tom jenkins, treasurer. president. corporate seal. blank for transfer, on back of certificate. for value received................ hereby sell, assign and transfer unto____________________ shares of the capital stock represented by the within certificate, and do hereby irrevocably constitute and appoint.............. to transfer the said stock on the books of the within named corporation. dated................190.. ___________________ in the presence of ______________________ =103. directors of a corporation.= the managing officers of a corporation are called directors. they are the representatives elected by the stockholders, or members of the corporation, to transact the business of the corporation. while in the absence of statutory regulations a director need not be a stockholder, practically all states require directors to be stockholders. directors are authorized to act as agents for the corporation in the management of the corporation's business. their authority is limited not only by the charter of the corporation, but by the regulations, and by-laws of the corporation as well. the directors of a corporation are not authorized by virtue of their office to dispose of the entire assets of the corporation, neither can they transfer their right to act as directors to others. they have the right to purchase property, to sell and mortgage assets of the corporation within the limits prescribed by the charter, regulations and by-laws of the corporation. the directors of a corporation must act as a board. they are not permitted to act by proxy. the majority of the entire number of directors constitutes a quorum for the purpose of doing business. they may employ agents to make and carry out contracts, and perform ministerial acts of the corporation, but cannot delegate their discretionary powers as directors. unless provided otherwise by statute, directors must hold their meetings within the state under whose laws the corporation is created. notice of the meeting giving the place, time and purpose must be given to all the directors before a valid meeting can be held. directors, like agents, cannot act for their own private interests if opposed to those of their corporation. directors who privately profit to the disadvantage of the corporation are liable in damages for such acts to the corporation. it is generally conceded that a director may contract with his corporation, if no fraud is used, and if a quorum of directors without him consents. directors are liable to the corporation for their dishonesty or negligence. =104. by-laws, rules and regulations of a corporation.= the by-laws of a corporation are the rules and regulations by which the corporation is governed. sometimes a distinction is drawn between the term _by-law_, and the term _regulation_. for example, the statutes of some states provide that the stockholders may pass regulations for the government of the corporation relating to the time, place and manner of holding corporate meetings, the number of stockholders that shall constitute a quorum, the time and manner of electing directors, the duties and compensation of officers, and the qualification of officers; while the directors have the power to pass by-laws relating to the government of the corporation, not inconsistent with the charter of the corporation and the regulations. this distinction between regulations and by-laws does not seem to be generally recognized. the entire government of the corporation is generally included in the term by-laws. if the charter does not provide otherwise, the by-laws shall be passed by the stockholders rather than by the board of directors. a resolution is not a by-law. by resolution is meant the recorded and legally passed determination of a corporation to perform some particular thing or item of business. a vote of a board of directors to make certain bids on certain contracts is an example of a resolution. by-laws must not be contrary to the corporation's charter, or to general law. they are not presumed to be known by third persons, but if third persons dealing with a corporation have actual knowledge of them, they are bound by notice of their provisions. =105. capital stock of corporations.= the capitalization of a corporation is the aggregate amount of stock it is authorized by its charter to issue. if a corporation is authorized to issue one hundred thousand dollars ($100,000.00) of stock, it is said to be capitalized at one hundred thousand dollars ($100,000.00). this does not mean that the corporation has property worth one hundred thousand dollars ($100,000.00). a corporation is usually authorized to elect directors after one tenth of its stock has been subscribed, and after one tenth of the amount subscribed is paid in. thus, a corporation capitalized at one hundred thousand dollars ($100,000.00), may elect directors and start business with only one thousand dollars ($1,000.00) actually paid in. the term, capital stock of a corporation, is used in many different ways. it is commonly used to designate the capitalization. sometimes it is used to designate the amount actually subscribed. strictly, it probably means the money actually paid in on subscriptions. a corporation's assets may be far in excess of its capitalization, or far below its capitalization. it may have property worth five hundred thousand dollars ($500,000.00) and be capitalized at one hundred thousand dollars ($100,000.00) more or less, or it may be capitalized at one hundred thousand dollars ($100,000.00) and have no assets. =106. payment of shares of stock.= it may be stated as a general rule that a corporation has no authority to dispose of its stock for less than par value. if a corporation is solvent, ordinarily no objection is raised, but if the corporation becomes insolvent, creditors may complain, and force, by proper legal action, the shareholders to pay the difference between the face value of their stock and the amount actually paid. in the absence of a statute requiring stock subscriptions to be paid in cash, there is nothing to prevent a corporation from accepting property at a fair valuation in payment of stock. the rule is usually stated to be, that shares of stock must be paid for in money or in _money's worth_. shares of stock may be paid for in _bonâ fide_ services. the rule by which purchasers of stock are compelled to pay the full par value either in money or money's worth applies only to those who purchase direct from the company, or who purchase from stockholders with notice that the shares have not been fully paid for. if the certificates of stock state that they are fully paid for and the purchaser has no notice otherwise, or if the purchaser does not know that the stock has not been paid for in full, he cannot be made to suffer for the act of the corporation in unlawfully issuing the stock. =107. calls and assessments.= an _assessment_ may be defined to be a levy by a corporation upon a shareholder for an unpaid portion of his stock subscription; a _call_ is a notice to a shareholder of an assessment. ordinarily, assessments may be made by call, at the direction of the directors, until the entire par value of subscriptions are paid in full. stock cannot be assessed beyond its par value, unless so provided for by the corporate charter, or unless the subscriber so contracts. =108. watered stock.= in case property or services are accepted in payment for stock at an inflated valuation, or if stock is issued as fully paid up when it is not, the stock is said to be _watered_. for example, if _a_, a promoter of a corporation, turns over options to the company, actually worth one thousand dollars ($1,000.00), and receives stock in payment, the par value of which is five thousand dollars ($5,000.00), the stock is said to be watered, and the four thousand dollars ($4,000.00) excess valuation is said to represent the amount of water in the stock. =109. increasing or decreasing capitalization.= a corporation has no power, by reason of being a corporation, to increase or decrease its capitalization. the states generally provide by statute for the increasing or decreasing of the capitalization. the corporation must comply with these statutes, before its capitalization can be changed. in case the capitalization is increased, the purchasers of such stock are subjected to pay the full face value at the instance of creditors, the same as purchasers of an original issue. that is, if a corporation is unable to pay its debts, one who has purchased direct from the company, shares of stock upon an increased capitalization, at a price below par, may be compelled by creditors to pay the difference between what he has actually paid and the par value. in case of an increase of capitalization, the present stockholders, in the absence of express statutory regulations to the contrary, are entitled to receive the increased shares in proportion to their holdings. this is usually called a _stock dividend_. =110. common and preferred stock.= stock of a corporation may be of two kinds, common and preferred. when stock is issued by a corporation without any agreement to pay certain dividends out of the profits, or to repay the original stock investments if the corporation ceases doing business, in preference to other stock, it is called _common_ stock. corporations are sometimes authorized by their charters to issue what is called _preferred_ stock. that is, the corporation pledges to pay a certain percent of its profits, as dividends to the preferred stockholders, before paying anything to common stockholders. if the corporation ceases doing business, preferred stockholders are first paid the amount of their subscriptions, and if any balance remains, it is paid to common stockholders. in the absence of statutory authority, probably an existing corporation has the right to issue preferred stock by the unanimous consent of all the common stockholders. this is commonly done for the purpose of raising additional funds. =111. dividends.= _dividends_ is the term applied to the money distributed to shareholders, out of the profits of a corporation. the directors are usually empowered to declare dividends. a stockholder cannot compel the corporation to pay him a percentage of the profits until a dividend has been declared. after a dividend has been declared, it is regarded as a debt of the corporation in favor of the shareholder. when a dividend has been declared at the discretion of the board of directors, the preferred stockholders must first be paid the amount of their preference, and the balance must be distributed equally between the common stockholders. no partiality can be shown stockholders. they must be treated alike. dividends can be declared only out of the profits, except when a corporation ceases doing business, in which event the property of the corporation, after paying liabilities, is distributed as dividends. =112. certificates of stock not negotiable instruments.= a certificate of stock is merely evidence that the holder is a member of the corporation. a person may be a member of a corporation, and be entitled to the rights of a stockholder, without having a certificate of stock. certificates are convenient as evidence of membership. transfers of stock are usually made by filling in a blank on the back of the certificate for that purpose, by which the owner declares the transfer to the purchaser, and designates the purchaser, or someone, his attorney to present the certificate to the corporation, to have the transfer registered on the books of the company. it is the usual custom to surrender certificates to the purchaser. a corporation has a right to rely upon its books, and if a person wrongfully or fraudulently attempts to transfer a certificate of stock which he does not own, or has no right to transfer, the purchaser takes no better title than the seller had. in this particular, certificates of stock are not negotiable instruments. negotiable instruments are good for value in the hands of innocent purchasers, who purchase before the instrument is due. as between the parties themselves, a transfer of a certificate of stock is good, but as to the corporation or creditors of the seller, the transfer is not effectual until recorded on the books of the corporation. [illustration: a corner in the sales department of the michigan stove company, detroit, mich.] =113. individual liability of stockholders for debts of a corporation.= a corporation is an artificial person having an existence in law, separate and apart from that of its members. its profits cannot be divided until the managing agents of the corporation so decree. its property does not belong to the members, but to the corporation itself. at one time some states provided by statute for double liability of stockholders. in case a corporation was unable to pay its debts, creditors could compel stockholders to pay to the corporation an amount equal to the par value of their stock, after paying the full face or par value of their stock. statutes providing for double liability have quite generally been abrogated. at the present time, except in the case of national banks, corporations organized under united states law, few states provide for double liability of stockholders. if _a_ has subscribed for ten shares of stock, the par value of each share being one hundred dollars ($100.00), and pays one-half the amount of his subscription to the company, in case of insolvency of the corporation, creditors can force _a_ to pay the balance of his stock subscription, or five hundred dollars ($500.00). even though not insolvent, the corporation can collect the balance of five hundred dollars ($500.00) from _a_ by call and assessment, and can enforce collection by suit. _a's_ subscription is a contract between himself, and the corporation. unlike partners, stockholders are not personally responsible for the debts of the corporation of which they are members. in dealing with partnerships, a person may rely upon the personal financial worth of the individual members of the partnership. the property of the individual members may be subjected to pay the debts of the partnership. but in case of a party dealing with a corporation, he cannot rely upon the personal worth or responsibility of the members of the corporation, since the members individually are not liable for the corporation's debts. the corporation is separate and distinct from its members, and when the assets of the corporation are exhausted, the property of the individual members is not liable. =114. officers and agents of a corporation.= a corporation is an artificial person which must necessarily conduct its affairs through agents. the managing board of a corporation having a capital stock is usually called the board of directors. the managing board of a corporation having no capital stock is usually called the board of trustees. these managing boards are elected by the members of the corporation. in case the corporation is one organized for profit, the members are called stockholders or shareholders. the directors or managing board, of a corporation may delegate the performance of what are called ministerial duties. they may appoint officers and agents to assist them in the performance of their duties of a certain character. the officers of a corporation elected by the directors usually consist of a _president_, _vice-president_, _secretary_ and _treasurer_. if a corporation's business transactions are limited, practically the only duty of the president is to preside at the meeting of the board of directors. if the affairs of the corporation are many and complicated, the president is usually intrusted with many duties. the board of directors meets at stated times, authorizes and passes on certain important matters, but the duty of carrying them into execution, and of performing the routine work, falls on the president. in a corporation of large affairs, the president may pay current bills, make purchases, give notes, if necessary, make sales and give and take mortgages on property. he is often given authority to act as general manager for the corporation. in this event, he may perform all the duties connected with the general operation of the business. the vice-president has authority to perform the duties of the president during his absence or disability. it is the duty of the secretary to keep the records of the corporation. it is the duty of the treasurer to take care of the funds of the corporation. the officers of a corporation are liable to the corporation for breach of trust. they are personally liable to third persons when they exceed their authority. a corporation, through its properly appointed officers, as well as through its board of directors, may appoint subordinate agents to perform work for the corporation. the corporation is responsible for the acts of its agent, performed within the real or apparent scope of the agent's authority. =115. execution of contracts and negotiable instruments by a corporation.= a corporation can act only through its agents. the agents authorized to act for a corporation are the board of directors, the officers appointed by the board, or the officers. a corporation, as one of its powers, has _the right to use_ a common seal. while a corporation _commonly uses_ its seal in signing written instruments of importance, for the purpose of showing authority of its agents to enter into such contracts, a corporation need not use its seal except in those cases when it is necessary that a natural person use a seal. a corporation usually authorizes its officers to make contracts. a president and secretary, acting together, have the right to make contracts for their corporation, by reason of the general authority conferred upon them by the board of directors. the proper signature of a corporation to a written document is the name of the corporation, followed by the signature of the president as its president, and by the signature of the secretary as its secretary. for example, if the india rubber company is to sign a contract, the proper signature is: the india rubber co., by john smith, its president. by john jones, its secretary. when the signature must be acknowledged before an officer authorized to administer oaths, before it will be received for record, as in the case of a deed, the officer authorized to sign the name of the corporation to the deed may make the acknowledgment. negotiable instruments, such as promissory notes, drafts and checks, should be signed with the corporate name by the proper officer, as its officer. it is held, however, that by custom, a cashier of a bank may make and indorse negotiable paper in his own name, merely adding the designation _cashier_ to his signature, and by this means make the paper that of the corporation, and not incur any personal liability therefor. this is an exception to the general rule. where a person signs as agent, he should sign the name of his principal, by himself, as agent. if he signs his own name, followed by the word, _agent_, or _president_, or whatever his office may be, he binds himself personally, and not his principal. =116. ultra vires acts.= a corporation by its charter is granted certain privileges. it has a right to act within the terms of its charter, but no right to go beyond the terms of its charter. if it performs acts beyond the terms of its charter these acts are said to be _ultra vires_. this does not mean that all the acts which may be performed by a corporation must expressly be enumerated in its charter. corporations are created for certain purposes. they are permitted to perform all the acts necessary, and incidental to the purpose of their organization. the general laws under which a corporation is created are a part of its charter. a corporation organized to do a general banking business has no authority to sign bonds as surety for persons or corporations. attempts to perform such acts of suretyship are beyond their power, and are _ultra vires_. _ultra vires_ acts are unlawful, and a single stockholder may prevent, by legal action, the officers of a corporation from completing an _ultra vires_ contract. third persons are deemed to have notice of the limitation of the powers of a corporation. they are not permitted to act in such a manner as to benefit by _ultra vires_ acts, and then escape liability on the ground that the obligation is _ultra vires_. if an _ultra vires_ contract is wholly executory on both sides, neither party can enforce it, if the other party complains by reason thereof. but one cannot accept benefits thereunder, and refuse to carry out the contract on his part. he is said to be estopped from so doing. the doctrine laid down by the last statement is disputed in some jurisdictions. =117. rights and liabilities of a foreign corporation.= corporations have no rights, as such, outside of the jurisdiction of the power creating them. a corporation organized under the laws of one state may be excluded from performing any of its corporate functions in another state. states may permit foreign corporations to exercise their function within their borders, if they so desire. but states cannot be compelled to recognize the corporate rights of foreign corporations. while the united states constitution provides that citizens of each state shall be entitled to all the privileges and immunities of citizens of the several states, a corporation is not a citizen within the meaning of this provision. the united states government may employ or organize corporations to carry out its purposes. such corporations cannot be denied the right to exercise their functions by any state. for example, the united states constitution gives congress the right to regulate commerce with foreign nations, among the several states, and with the indian tribes. a corporation engaged in interstate commerce cannot be excluded by any state, in the exercise of this function. outside these governmental agencies, each state has the right to exclude a foreign corporation from exercising any of its corporate functions within their jurisdictions. the states generally provide by statute that foreign corporations may transact business within their territory by filing with the secretary of state a statement of their capitalization, the amount actually paid in, the nature of their business, and the names of their officers. then, by paying a certain tax, they are permitted to maintain an office and transact business within the state thus granting them the privilege. the statutes of the various states regulating foreign corporations commonly use the term, "doing business." they prohibit foreign corporations from doing business within their borders unless they comply with their statutes. the term, "doing business," has been held to mean the maintaining an office or place of business, or manufacturing plant within a state, and does not prohibit a foreign corporation from selling goods by traveling salesmen, or from making or suing on contracts. =118. liability of a corporation for its torts and crimes.= a corporation, as well as an individual, may commit torts and crimes. if an agent, acting within the scope of his employment, defrauds another, the corporation is liable in damages for his act. if, however, an officer or agent goes outside his employment, and commits a wrong, it is his own act, and he, personally, and not the corporation, is liable. a corporation, as well as an individual, may commit a crime for which it may be punished. it must, of course, commit the crime through its officers and agents. if a corporation is guilty of criminal negligence in failing to keep its works in repair, and persons are injured thereby, it is subject to indictment and punishment. if a corporation obstructs navigation or breaks the sabbath, it is subject to criminal action. the usual punishment for the crime of a corporation is the payment of a fine, but the officers of a corporation may be imprisoned as well. =119. dissolution of corporations.= a corporation continues to exist indefinitely, unless the period of its existence is limited by its charter, unless its charter is revoked by the power that granted it, or unless it voluntarily or by a decree of court ceases business. a corporation may forfeit its right to continue as a corporation, if it abuses its privileges, if it assumes to have powers and rights which it does not have, or if it fails to exercise its corporate functions. the latter is called _nonruser_. most states provide by statute that corporations shall not commence business until a certain portion of its capital has been raised. if the corporation violates this provision or any provision of the statutes regulating the completion of its organization, its franchise may be revoked by the state. most states provide by statute, a means by which a corporation may wind up its affairs. after paying its liabilities the balance of its assets may be divided ratably among its stockholders. negotiable instruments =120. in general.= by negotiable instruments are meant those written instruments intended to circulate as money, which by their form and nature are transferred by delivery or by indorsement and delivery. the most common negotiable instruments are promissory notes, drafts and checks. negotiable instruments are much more commonly and extensively used than money in the transaction of business. their function is to take the place of money. their use arose out of the scarcity of currency and facilitates the transaction of business. their form and nature make them more desirable and practical in many respects than money itself. negotiable instruments may readily be traced. they may be drawn in any denomination to meet any emergency. they may be indorsed in such a manner that only the person intended by the maker to receive payment can receive payment thereon. money, on the other hand, has no particular identity. after payment it cannot be traced, nor can mistakes in amount be corrected. if lost, payment thereon cannot be stopped. if found or stolen, its possessor may receive the benefit of it without question. negotiable instruments were devised to meet a broad and pressing demand. usage and custom have given them characteristics to meet this demand. =121. negotiability.= negotiability is the power of a written instrument to circulate as money. to be negotiable, an instrument must contain language of negotiability. the common phrases of negotiability are _pay to the order of_, or _pay to bearer_. any draft, promissory note, check, or bill of exchange containing the words, _pay to the order of_, or _pay to bearer_ are known as negotiable instruments. if a negotiable instrument is made payable to bearer, it is transferable by delivery. the holder of it may pass it like money and the taker is entitled to receive payment of it when it is due. a negotiable instrument payable to the order of a designated person is payable upon the indorsement and delivery of the person to whose order it is made payable. for example, if a check is made payable to the order of john smith, and john smith desires to transfer it to john jones, he writes his name, john smith, on the back of the check, and delivers the check to john jones. by this act, john jones becomes the owner of the check, and may in turn transfer it, or cash it by presenting it to the bank on which it is drawn. if a check is made payable to john smith or bearer, and if john smith desires to transfer it to john jones, he merely hands john jones the check. no indorsement is necessary. =122. negotiability distinguished from assignability.= an ordinary contract or obligation not requiring personal services or discretion may be transferred by oral or written contract of assignment. for example, if _b_ purchases a barrel of flour from _a_, his grocer, to be paid for in thirty days, _a_ may assign his claim against _b_ to _c_. this may be accomplished by a verbal agreement to that effect between _a_ and _c_, or _a_ may give _c_ a written statement to the effect that he has transferred his claim against _b_ to _c_. when _b_ is notified of this assignment, he is obliged to pay _c_ the money. if for any reason the flour was not accepted by _b_, or if _b_ has a claim against _a_, _c_ can recover from _b_ only the amount _b_ owes _a_. if _b_ owes _a_ nothing, on account of the flour being of poor quality, and not accepted for that reason, or if _b_ has a claim for an equal amount against _a_, _b_ can set up this defense against _c's_ claim, and _c_ can recover from _b_ only the amount that _a_ could have recovered against _b_. in other words, in case of an assignment, all defenses that were good against the assignor are good against the assignee. in case of negotiable instruments, however, the transferee who takes the instrument before maturity for value, and without notice of any defenses, has the right to recover the full face value from the maker, regardless of defenses the maker may have against the original payee. in case of assignment, notice must be given the debtor to make the title good in the purchaser. in case of negotiability, no notice to the debtor is necessary. a negotiable instrument may be assigned. a common example is the delivery for value, of an instrument payable to order without indorsement. the purchaser takes only the rights of a seller. =123. law merchant.= the law relating to negotiable instruments is said to be based upon the _law merchant_. by the law merchant, is meant the rules and customs of merchants relating to bills and notes. at an early time, various rules were recognized by the merchants trading between different countries. drafts or bills of exchange were given and passed current as money, without notice to the debtor of the transfer. as early as the year 1200, these customs of merchants were recognized in england. at first, they were recognized only in connection with foreign bills of exchange. by foreign bills of exchange are meant bills made or drawn by persons of one country to be paid or accepted by persons of another state or country. originally, the rules were recognized by merchants only. the courts of england recognized and enforced these rules in actions brought on foreign bills of exchange. gradually, these rules were recognized and enforced by all the merchants of england. they were applied to inland bills as well as to foreign. some statutes were passed, notably one making the rules of the law merchant apply to promissory notes. this statute compelled the general recognition of the law merchant. gradually these rules were applied to all negotiable instruments by whomever used. the customs which started between merchants of foreign countries were held applicable to all persons, and became the recognized law relating to negotiable instruments. this country adopted these rules, together with the greater part of the common law of england. at the present time, most of the states have negotiable instrument codes. these codes, for the most part, are statutory enactments of the well recognized rules of common law. the advantage of the codes, however, is to settle disputed points by express statutory enactment. the code must be interpreted by the well settled and recognized principles of the common law. the difference between the contract formed by negotiable instruments and ordinary contracts is based upon the law merchant. these customs are as well recognized, and are as much a part of the law as they were when originally used by the merchants of the old world six or seven hundred years ago. =124. promissory notes.= one of the most common forms of negotiable instruments is that of the promissory note. a common form of promissory note is shown in fig. 1. a promissory note is not necessarily a negotiable instrument. it depends upon whether it contains words of negotiability. if the note contains the words, _or order_, or, _or bearer_, or words of similar import, it is a negotiable instrument otherwise it is not. to constitute an instrument a promissory note, it must contain certain elements. it must be signed by the party making or giving it, but it is not necessary that the signature be in any particular place. any mark or designation intended as a signature, or by which the maker can be identified, regardless of its position on the paper, is a sufficient signature. the proper and usual method of signing negotiable instruments is at the end thereof. [illustration: fig. 1. promissory note.] a promissory note must contain an unconditional promise to pay a definite sum of money, at a certain time. if the promise to pay is conditional, the instrument does not constitute a negotiable instrument. the following instrument was sued upon: stratham, march, 28, 1846. due to order of sophia gordon, widow, ten thousand dollars to be paid as wanted for her support. if no part is wanted it is not to be paid. stephen scanmore. since this was not an unconditional promise to pay, the court held it not to be a promissory note. the time of payment of a promissory note must be certain, the amount to be paid must be specified, and the instrument must be payable in money. if the instrument is to be paid in anything other than money, it is not a negotiable instrument. an instrument must be delivered, before it has a legal existence as a promissory note. the essentials of a promissory note are also essentials of any negotiable instrument. a promissory note need not be dated, nor need it state that it is given for a consideration. by its nature it imports a consideration. the party signing the note is called the _maker_, the party to whom it is made payable is called the _payee_. if the payee transfers it by indorsement, he is called the _indorser_, and the person to whom he transfers it is called the _indorsee_. [illustration: fig. 2. sight draft.] =125. drafts and bills of exchange.= the term, draft, is commonly used to designate an order from one bank or banks on another, as well as orders on third persons. orders drawn by one person on another, payable to a third person, are known technically as bills of exchange. at present, the terms, _draft_, and _bills of exchange_ are generally used interchangeably. a draft or a bill of exchange is a written order drawn by one person on another, payable to a third person, to the order of a third person, to the drawer himself or his order, or to bearer. [illustration: fig. 3. sixty-day draft, accepted.] a common form of draft is shown in fig. 2. bills of exchange or drafts are frequently made payable at a time considerably in the future. fig. 3 is a form of sixty-day draft. this draft is presented to the drawee, j. h. gotrochs, and if he accepts, he writes, _accepted_, followed by his name, across the draft. his name written on a draft is sufficient acceptance. the party drawing a bill of exchange is called the _drawer_, the party to whom it is made payable is called, the _drawee_ before acceptance, and the _acceptor_ after acceptance. the drawee may accept by signing the instrument, by stating his acceptance on a separate piece of paper, by oral acceptance, or even by conduct making apparent his intention to accept. after acceptance of a draft or bill of exchange, the acceptor is liable to pay the bill according to its terms. he is in the position of a maker of a promissory note. [illustration: fig. 4. certified check.] =126. checks.= a check is an order drawn on a bank or banker. it differs in some respects from an ordinary bill of exchange. it does not have to be presented for acceptance. it is presented for payment. it presupposes funds of the drawer in the hands of the bank or banker on which it is drawn. it is payable at any time after the date fixed for maturity. it need not be presented at maturity. the maker may recover damages for failure to present promptly if he is damaged thereby. for example, if _a_ gives _b_ his check on the _x_ bank, and between the date for payment of the check and the time of presentment for payment by _b_, the bank fails, _a_ may recover as damages from _b_, the amount of his loss by reason of _b's_ failure to present the check promptly. no days of grace are allowed in the payment of checks. in this particular, they differ from ordinary bills of exchange. =127. certification of checks.= by certification of a check is meant a written acknowledgment on checks by an officer or authorized agent of the bank that the check will be paid when presented. in fig. 4 is shown a common form of certification. the words _accepted_ or _certified_, written on a check by an authorized officer or agent of a bank constitute a certification. if the _holder_ of a check has it certified he elects to hold the bank, and thereby releases the maker and prior indorsers. if the _maker_ procures the certification he is still liable thereon. when a check is certified, the bank charges it to the account of the maker, and it then becomes a debt of the bank, regardless of whether or not the maker has funds in the bank with which to meet it. this is the reason that a maker and prior indorsers of a check are released from liability thereon when a holder has it certified. by this act, the holder elects to rely upon the bank, rather than upon maker or indorsers. =128. bonds.= bonds may be defined to be the promissory notes of corporations, private or governmental. they are made under the seal of the corporation issuing them. at common law, a seal destroyed the negotiability of an instrument. at the present time this is not true of bonds. private corporations often secure their bonds by a mortgage on their entire property. this is accomplished by means of a mortgage called a _trust deed_. the mortgage is given to a trust company, or an individual, to be held for the common benefit of all the bond holders. it is not practicable to give each bond holder a mortgage. this would be inconvenient, and some bond holders could obtain preference over others. but one trust deed, covering all the assets held by a trustee for the benefit of all the bond holders, accomplishes the purpose. registered bonds are registered on the books of the corporation issuing them, and in case of transfer the transfer is noted on the books of the company. other bonds contain coupons, or small promissory notes for certain amounts representing the installments of interest payable at certain times. these coupons may be cut from the bond and sold as promissory notes, or they may be cut at maturity and returned for payment. +---------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | no. 1. $1000.00 | | | | united states of america, | | state of ohio. | | | | village of x, ohio, improvement bonds. | | | | know all men by these presents that the village of x, in the | | county of cuyahoga and state of ohio, acknowledges itself to owe, | | and for value received hereby promises to pay to bearer, the sum | | of $1000.00 in lawful money of the united states of america, on | | the second day of january, 1920, together with interest thereon | | at the rate of 5% per annum payable semi-annually on the second | | day of july, and second day of january of each year, as evidenced | | by the coupons hereto attached, until the principal sum is paid. | | both principal and interest are payable at the city trust co., | | cleveland, ohio, on the presentation and surrender of this bond, | | and the coupons hereto attached as they respectively mature. | | | | this bond is issued for the purpose of improving a street of the | | village of x, from the c. b. railway to rocky river by constructing | | and laying water mains with all necessary connections thereon, | | under and by authority of sections 1536-281, and sec. 2835 of | | the revised statutes of ohio, and under and in accordance with | | resolutions of the council of the village of x, ohio, adopted nov. | | 4, 1908, and dec. 2, 1908. | | | | it is hereby certified that all proceedings relating to this | | bond have been in strict compliance with said laws, statutes and | | resolutions, and all other statutes and laws relating thereto, and | | that the faith, credit, and revenues, and all real and personal | | property in the village of x, ohio are hereby pledged for the | | payment of principal and interest hereof at maturity. | | | | this bond is one of a series of bonds of like date and effect, but | | of different amounts and maturities amounting in the aggregate to | | $3700.00. | | | | in witness whereof, the village of x has caused this bond to be | | signed by the mayor and clerk of said village, and the corporate | | seal of said village to be hereunto affixed, and the facsimile | | signature of the mayor and clerk of said village to be affixed to | | the attached coupon this second day of january, 1909. | | | | d. b. x._______________________ | | mayor. | | | | [seal.] | | | | x. y. z._______________________ | | clerk. | | | +---------------------------------------------------------------------+ form of municipal coupon bond. +------------------------------------------------------------------+ | | | on the second day of july, on the second day of january, | | 1909,the village of x promises 1910, the village of x promises | | to paythe bearer at the city to pay the bearer at the city | | trust co.,cleveland, ohio, trust co., cleveland, ohio, | | twenty-fivedollars, being 6 twenty-five dollars, being 6 | | months' intereston its bond. months' interest on its bond. | | | | no. 1 dated jan. 2, 1909. no. 2 dated jan. 2, 1909. | | d. b. x.___________________ d. b. x.___________________ | | mayor. mayor. | | | | x. y. z.___________________ x. y. z.___________________ | | clerk. clerk. | | | | on the second day of july, on the second day of january, | | 1909,the village of x promises 1910, the village of x promises | | to paythe bearer at the city to pay the bearer at the city | | trust co.,cleveland, ohio, trust co., cleveland, ohio, | | twenty-fivedollars, being 6 twenty-five dollars, being 6 | | months' intereston its bond. months' interest on its bond. | | | | no. 1 dated jan. 2, 1909. no. 2 dated jan. 2, 1909. | | d. b. x.___________________ d. b. x.___________________ | | mayor. mayor. | | | | x. y. z.___________________ x. y. z.___________________ | | clerk. clerk. | | | +------------------------------------------------------------------+ interest coupons attached to municipal bond. similar coupons follow for payment at intervals of 6 months until maturity of bond in 1920. =129. collateral and judgment notes.= banks frequently require borrowers to sign collateral notes. these instruments are promissory notes, with an added agreement to the effect that certain collateral security is given the payee by the maker as security for the note. such security is usually certificates of stock, bonds, other promissory notes, or chattel property. the collateral note contains a stipulation that upon default, the payee may sell the collateral. the following is a common form of collateral note used by banks: $5,000.00 cleveland, ohio, dec. 26, 1908. six months after date, i promise to pay to the order of the fictitious bank at its banking rooms in cleveland, ohio, the sum of five thousand dollars for value received, with interest at the rate of 6% per annum. i have deposited with said bank as collateral security for the payment of this note the following property; 20 shares of stock of the columbia sewing machine co., par value $100.00 each, 2 diamond rings, 1 warehouse receipt of the city storage co., covering household furniture valued at $3,000.00. the value of this property is now $5,600.00. it is agreed that the payee, or his assigns, may have the right to call for additional security at any time it considers this collateral security insufficient, and on failure of the maker of this note to furnish additional security to satisfy the holder of this note, the note may be deemed payable at once at the holder's option. the holder shall also have power to accept substitutes for this collateral. should the maker violate any of the conditions of this note, or fail to pay it when due, the holder shall have the power to sell the collateral or any substitute given therefore, at private or public sale, at any time without notice to anyone, and after deducting all legal expenses connected with the sale, and after paying the note, shall return the balance to the maker. (signed) john smith. a judgment note contains a provision that upon default of payment, any attorney at law may appear in court and take judgment thereon by presenting the note, without observing the formalities of an ordinary suit at law. this kind of a note is also called a _cognovit_ note. the following is a common form of judgment note: $100.00 boston, dec. 8, 1909. one year after date, i promise to pay to the order of john jones the sum of one hundred dollars with interest at 6%, and i hereby authorize any attorney at law in the united states to appear before any justice of the peace, or in any court of record, after this note is due, and waive the service of summons, and confess judgment against me in favor of the holder of this note for the amount which shall then be due and unpaid thereon, together with interest and costs. (signed) thos. thomas. =130. certificates of deposit.= it is customary for banks to issue customer's receipts showing that a deposit of a certain amount has been made by the customer, which will be held for payment of the receipt upon presentation. these receipts ordinarily are made payable to the customer's order, and circulate like money. they are, in effect, the promissory notes of the bank issuing them. they differ from promissory notes in that banks require a special deposit of its customers before issuing them. banks issuing such receipts are supposed to hold these deposits as a special fund with which to pay the certificate when presented. the following is a common form of certificate of deposit: --the peoples bank of chicago- we hereby certify that john jones has deposited $1,000.00 in this bank, for which this certificate is issued, and which will be paid to the order of john jones in current funds of this bank when presented. the peoples bank of chicago, june 23, 1909. by a. z. marshall, cashier. the payee of this certificate of deposit may indorse and transfer it. the holder may collect the amount by presenting the certificate to the bank. =131. requisites of negotiable instruments.= certain elements are recognized, by long usage, as being necessary to constitute an instrument a valid negotiable instrument. the instrument must contain words of negotiability, such as _or bearer_, _or order_, or words of similar meaning. the instrument must contain a specific promise to pay a certain sum of money at a definite time. the instrument must designate an ascertainable person to whom, or to whose order the money is payable. the instrument must be signed and delivered. it is not necessary that a consideration be stated in the instrument, although in a suit between the original parties, failure of consideration is a defense. for example, if _a_ gives _b_ his promissory note for one hundred dollars ($100.00) payable to _b's_ order, and _a_ received no benefit for giving the note, if _b_ sues _a_ thereon, _a_ may plead that he received no consideration for the note. this would be a complete defense to _a_. if, however, _c_ purchased the note from _b_ before it was due, paying value for same, and having no notice of its being given without consideration, _a_ could be compelled to pay it to _c_ or his successors. it is not necessary that a negotiable instrument be dated. it is proper, however, and good business policy to date all negotiable instruments. the signature need not be at the bottom of the instrument. this, however, is the proper place for the signature. _i. o. u._ $500.00 (_signed_) _john jones_, is not a promissory note. it is not a promise to pay at a definite time or to a definite person. it is a mere acknowledgment of indebtedness. =132. parties to negotiable instruments.= by usage and custom, parties to negotiable instruments are given certain well recognized names. the name of the party to whom a promissory note is made payable is always called the _payee_. when the payee transfers a negotiable instrument by indorsement, he is called the _indorser_, and the party to whom he indorses the note is called the _indorsee_. indorsers and indorsees are designated as _first_, _second_, _third_, etc., indorsers or indorsees according to their position on the instrument. the maker of a draft is called the _drawer_. the one to whom it is given is called the _payee_. the one on whom it is drawn is called the _drawee_. after acceptance, the drawee is called the _acceptor_. the rights and liabilities of these parties are discussed under separate sections. =133. rights and liabilities of a drawee.= the term, _draft_, is sometimes used to designate orders made by one bank on another. for example, _a_ in cleveland, purchased of his cleveland bank a new york draft, or an order by the cleveland bank on a new york bank, payable to the order of _a_. technically, orders on persons are _bills of exchange_, but the term draft, has come to be applied both to orders of one bank on another and to orders of one person on another. in this work the term, _draft_ is applied to both kinds of orders. a drawer is a person who makes a draft on another. it is usually payable to the order of a third person. it may be made payable to the bearer or to the order of the drawer, himself. a drawer enters into a conditional contract. by becoming a drawer, he agrees to pay the bill of exchange or draft, if the payee presents it without delay, and in case of non-payment, or non-acceptance, if notice is promptly given him of this fact. in case the draft is a foreign one, that is, made payable or to be accepted, in a different state or country from which it is drawn, it must be protested by the payee to enable him to hold the drawer. a draft is protested by being presented by a notary public, who, by formal written instrument, declares the refusal of the drawee to accept. protest is discussed more at length under a separate section. in case these conditions are complied with, and the drawee does not accept the bill or pay the bill after acceptance, the payee may hold the drawer. after the formalities above enumerated are observed by the payee or holders of a draft, if the draft is dishonored, that is, not accepted, or paid by the drawee, the payee may sue the drawer, whose liability is similar to that of the maker of a promissory note. =134. rights and liabilities of acceptor.= the person to whom a draft is directed is called the drawee or acceptor. when a draft is presented to the drawee, he may accept it by writing _accepted_ thereon, or he may accept by writing his consent in a separate instrument, such as a letter, or by sending a telegram, or he may accept orally or by his conduct. after a drawee has accepted a draft, he is bound by its terms. he must pay the amount mentioned in the draft. after acceptance, his liability is similar to that of the maker of a promissory note. sometimes an acceptor does not accept in the exact terms of the draft. he may change the time or place of payment, or attach conditions to the bill or draft. this amounts to a refusal on his part to accept the bill, which will entitle the payee to refuse the qualified acceptance and by giving proper notice to the drawer hold the drawer by reason of non-acceptance by the drawee. if, however, the payee chooses to accept the qualified acceptance of the drawee, he may do so, but by this act he releases the drawer and all prior indorsers from liability thereon. =135. rights and liabilities of maker.= _maker_ is the term applied to the person who originally makes and signs a promissory note. by this act, he agrees to pay at maturity, to the original payee, or to whomever the note has been indorsed or properly transferred, the amount named in the note. the maker of a note is liable absolutely and unconditionally. while it is customary for the holder of a note to present it to the maker at maturity for payment, this is not necessary unless a place of payment is stipulated in the note. the holder may commence suit against the maker at maturity without presenting the note for payment. if the note contains indorsements, the note must be presented to the maker, and if payment is refused, to enable the holder to hold the indorsers liable, notice of the fact must be given the indorsers. if the note is payable at a particular place, as for example, a bank, the holder must present the note at the bank at maturity, or not be able to collect interest thereafter, if the maker proves that he had funds there sufficient to pay the note at maturity. if the maker has been damaged other than by loss of interest, by failure to present a note at a bank when made payable, he may collect damages therefor from the holder. =136. blank indorsement.= a negotiable instrument, if payable to bearer, may be transferred by delivery. if payable to the order of the payee, it may be transferred by indorsement and delivery. by indorsement is meant the writing the name of the payee upon the back of the negotiable instrument. indorsement may be made in various forms, depending upon the purpose for which made, and the kind of liability the indorser is willing to undertake, or the kind or degree of liability which he wishes to avoid. the most common kind of indorsement consists of the payee's writing his name only on the back of the instrument. a negotiable instrument with blank indorsement is shown in fig. 5. [illustration: fig. 5. promissory note with blank indorsement.] if x. x. crumby desires to transfer the note to anyone, he signs his name on the back thereof, as indicated in the illustration. this is called a blank indorsement, and makes the note payable to bearer. the note now passes as currency without further indorsement. subsequent holders may indorse the note if they so desire, or are so required. if the back of a negotiable instrument becomes filled with indorsements, a paper may be attached to carry further indorsements. such a paper is called an _allonge_. =137. indorsement in full.= a holder of a negotiable instrument, not desiring to make it payable to bearer, may indorse it by making it payable to some particular person or to the order of some particular person, followed by his signature. this does not destroy the negotiability of the instrument, but prevents anyone but the person to whom it is indorsed, or such person's indorsees, from securing payment of the instrument. this is not true if the instrument is payable to bearer, or if it has been indorsed in blank. such instruments are payable to bearer, and circulate as money without requiring further indorsement. if subsequently indorsed in full, only those subsequent holders can hold the indorser in full, who can trace their title through him. [illustration: fig. 6. one form of indorsement in full.] [illustration: fig. 7. another form of indorsement in full.] fig. 6 is an indorsement in full of x. x. crumby. by this indorsement, only john jones, the person to whom he indorses, may obtain payment of the note. if john jones indorses the note in blank, that is, signs his name to it, the note becomes payable to bearer, and passes like money, without further indorsements. [illustration: fig. 8. indorsement without recourse.] by the indorsement, fig. 7 which is also an indorsement in full, x. x. crumby becomes liable as indorser to john jones only, and not to anyone to whom john jones may indorse the paper. x. x. crumby's indorsement does not contain the words "or order." the face of the note, however, contains the words "or order," which makes the note negotiable. x. x. crumby's indorsement to john jones, although not containing words of negotiability, does not destroy the negotiability of the note. john jones may indorse the note in blank, or in full. the only effect of x. x. crumby's omitting words of negotiability from his indorsement is to limit his primary liability as an indorser to john jones. =138. indorsement without recourse.= frequently, the holder of a negotiable instrument is unwilling to assume any primary liability by transferring a negotiable instrument which he possesses. he may desire to transfer the right he has in the instrument, without becoming liable thereon. he may do this by indorsing it without recourse. [illustration: fig. 9. indorsement for collection and for deposit.] by either of the indorsements, (fig. 8) the one in blank, or the one in full, jos. rundy, transfers his interest in the note to john jones, and does not become liable thereon as an indorser. it is not quite accurate to say that an indorser without recourse has _no liability_ as an indorser. he _impliedly warrants_ the signatures preceding his own to be _genuine_, and that the parties making them had legal capacity to sign. the implied liabilities of an indorser are discussed under a separate section. [illustration: fig. 10. promissory note with anomalous indorser.] =139. indorsement for collection or deposit.= a holder of a negotiable instrument may transfer it for the purpose of collection, thereby making the transferee his agent, for the purpose of carrying out his will, and thereby destroying the negotiability of the instrument. this prevents another from taking the note free from the claim of the original indorser. either of the indorsements in fig. 9 destroys the further negotiability of the note. the indorsers are authorized to collect the note for arthur hinde. they are not authorized to transfer the note, except for the purpose of collecting it for arthur hinde. =140. anomalous indorser.= sometimes, a party writes his name upon the back of a negotiable instrument outside the chain of title. that is, he writes his name thereon, before the payee indorses it. this is for the purpose of adding security to the note. in this case, fig. 10, john arthur signs the note outside the chain of title. he places his name thereon for the purpose of adding security thereto. he is liable on his indorsement to the _payee_, a. aldrich, and to the _indorsees_ of a. aldrich. in some jurisdictions he is liable as a guarantor, in some as a surety, but in most as an ordinary indorser. the liability of a surety and guarantor is discussed in the section on suretyship. =141. liability of an indorser.= by placing his name on the back of a negotiable instrument for the purpose of passing title, a person becomes liable on an implied contract. if his indorsement is in blank, or payable to the order of the indorsee, he is liable to any innocent purchaser for the value, without notice. if made payable to a particular person, he is liable only to that person. the implied liability of an indorser has been said to be as follows: "i hereby agree by the acceptance by you of title to this paper, and the value you confer upon me in exchange, to pay you, or any of your successors in title, the amount of this instrument, providing you, or any of your successors in title, present this note to the maker on the date of maturity, and notify me without delay of his refusal to pay. and i warrant that all the parties had proper capacity and authority to sign, and that the obligation is binding upon each of them. and i will respond to the obligations created by these warranties, even though you do not demand payment of the maker at maturity or notify me of default." =142. forgery and alteration of negotiable instruments.= an act by which a negotiable instrument is materially and fraudulently changed and passed or attempted to be passed, is a forgery. the act may consist of fraudulently writing another's name on a negotiable instrument, or changing a name already on a negotiable instrument, or changing the figures, date, rate of interest, or in fact any act of counterfeiting or materially altering a negotiable instrument. forgery makes the instrument void. the forger, or those who purchase from him, obtain no rights against the party wronged. as to the party whose name or whose instrument is forged, the instrument is void. for example, _a_ has _b's_ valid note for one hundred dollars ($100.00) and changes the note by erasing one hundred dollars ($100.00) and substituting five hundred dollars ($500.00) and sells the note to _c_. _c_ can recover nothing from _b_. _a_, by indorsing the note to _c_, warrants the genuineness of the note and is liable on his indorsement to _c_. neither _a_ nor _c_ can recover even one hundred dollars ($100.00) from _b_. the instrument has been rendered void by the forgery, and courts will recognize no liability of _b_ thereon. a negotiable instrument altered in any material respect is void. if _fraudulently_ made, it is regarded as a forgery. if _innocently_ made, the instrument is still void, but the wronged person is liable for the original consideration. if _a_ gives _b_ his promissory note for one hundred dollars ($100.00) with interest at 6%, and _b_ carelessly, but not fraudulently, writes 8% thereon instead of 6%, _b_ cannot recover on the note at all. but he can recover from _a_ one hundred dollars ($100.00) with interest at 6% on the debt for which the note was given. any alteration of a negotiable instrument which changes the liability of the parties thereto, amounts to a material alteration. changes in the rate of interest, the name of an indorser, the date, the place, time or manner of payment is a material alteration and renders the instrument void. if the alteration is made by a stranger, a person not a party to the instrument, it does not constitute a material alteration. the instrument may be restored to its proper form and recovery be had thereon. =143. fraud and duress.= fraud has been defined to be "a false representation of a material fact, made with knowledge of its falsity or in reckless disregard whether it be true or false, with the intention that it should be relied upon by the complaining party, and actually inducing him to rely and act upon it." fraud is a defense to a party to a negotiable instrument as against the person inducing it, but not as against subsequent innocent purchasers. _a_ offers to sell _b_ a diamond ring for five hundred dollars ($500.00) assuring him that the diamond is genuine. relying upon this false statement of _a_, _b_ takes the ring and gives _a_ his promissory note for five hundred dollars ($500.00) payable to _a's_ order. the ring proves to be paste. _a_ cannot recover on the note from _b_. if, however, before it is due, _a_ sells the note to _c_, who pays value for it without notice of the fraud, _c_ can force _b_ to pay the note. duress is actual or threatened violence sufficient under the circumstances to compel a person to act against his wishes. in connection with negotiable instruments, duress is treated as the same kind of a defense as fraud. it is a complete defense as against the guilty party, but is not available as against an innocent purchaser. =144. lost or stolen negotiable instruments.= the primary function of negotiable instruments is to circulate like money. if a negotiable instrument is indorsed in blank, or made payable to bearer, it may circulate without further indorsement. if such a negotiable instrument is lost or stolen, and purchased before maturity by an innocent party, the maker is liable thereon. for example, if _a_ makes a promissory note payable to bearer, and it is stolen by _b_ from _a's_ possession, and sold for value to _c_, an innocent party, _c_ may collect the note from _a_. if _a_ makes a promissory note payable to the order of _b_, and _b_ indorses it in blank, that is, writes his name only, on the back thereof, and it is stolen from _b's_ possession by _c_ and sold by _c_ to _d_, who purchases it innocently and for value, _d_ may collect the note from _a_. this is the principal distinction between negotiable instruments and ordinary contracts. if the thief changes the instrument in any material way, or is obliged to forge someone's name to pass it, this constitutes a forgery and no recovery can be had thereon. =145. real and personal defenses to negotiable instruments.= defenses to negotiable instruments are usually classified as _real_ and _personal_. if they are good only against a particular person, they are said to be personal. if they are good as against everyone, they are said to be real. if the instrument is forged, given by an infant, a person under legal age, is illegal--for example given for a gambling contract made illegal by statute--or has been materially altered, it is void, regardless of who holds it. these defenses are called real defenses. if the instrument is lost or stolen, and purchased by an innocent party, if given by reason of duress or fraud, or if there is no consideration, the defense is good only as against the guilty party. these defenses are called personal defenses. =146. consideration.= a consideration is usually defined to be something beneficial to the party making a promise, or something detrimental to the party to whom a promise is made. every ordinary contract must be supported by a consideration. negotiable instruments differ from ordinary contracts in that they are made to circulate like money. in order that they may circulate like money the maker is not permitted in some instances, to assert that the instrument lacks consideration. as between the immediate parties to a negotiable instrument, there must be a consideration. the maker may successfully defend against an action based thereon for this reason. if, however, the instrument has passed before due, to an innocent purchaser for value, the maker cannot refuse payment on the ground of no consideration. in case of a negotiable instrument, consideration is presumed. consideration need not be stated in the instrument. it amounts to a defense, only as between immediate parties. if _a_ gives _b_ his promissory note payable to _b's_ order, with the understanding that _b_ is not to use the note, but is to show it to _c_, his grocer, for the purpose of obtaining credit, and _b_ endeavors to collect the note from _a_, _a_ may successfully defend on the ground of no consideration. if, however, _b_ sells the note to _d_ before it is due, and for value, _d_, not knowing there is no consideration, can collect the note from _a_. =147. presentment and acceptance of drafts.= drafts payable at sight, or after sight, must be presented to the drawee for acceptance. this is for the reason that the time of payment of such drafts is uncertain. if a draft of which presentment is necessary, is not presented for acceptance, the drawer and indorsers are discharged. presentment for acceptance must be made to the acceptor within a reasonable time after receipt by the payee or indorsee. what consitutes reasonable time for presentment depends upon the circumstances connected with each particular case. presentment for acceptance is made by exhibiting the bill for acceptance to the person upon whom is it drawn. presentment for acceptance may be made by the payee, or his indorsee, and may be made to the drawee, his authorized agent or legal representative. presentment may be made either at the person's place of business, or at his residence. if made at his place of business, it must be made during business hours. it cannot lawfully be made after noon on saturdays, nor can it be made on sundays or legal holidays. acceptance may be indicated by writing _accepted_ or words to that effect on the bill, by a separate writing to that effect, or by oral agreement of the drawee. if the bill contains a stipulation not requiring acceptance, this is called _waiver of acceptance_, and the bill need not be presented for acceptance. if acceptance is refused, or not made for any reason, anyone may accept the bill. this is called acceptance for honor, or acceptance _supra protest_. the liability of an acceptor for honor is that if the bill is presented to the drawee at maturity for payment and refused, and notice thereof given the acceptor for honor, the latter will pay it. a bill or draft payable at a definite time or date need not be presented for acceptance. for example, if a bill is drawn payable december 23, 1909, it need not be presented for acceptance. the time of payment is certain, and if presented for payment on december 23, and dishonored, notice of non-payment to the drawer and prior indorsers is sufficient to enable the payee to hold them liable. if, however, the bill is payable at sight, or three days after sight, or any time after sight, it must be presented for acceptance to fix the date of maturity, if a bill is not paid by the acceptor after acceptance, notice must be given the drawer and prior indorsers by the holder, to enable him to hold the drawer and prior indorsers liable. this is sufficient in case of an inland bill. in case of a foreign bill, one drawn on a person, or made payable to a person in another state or country from the drawee, formal protest must be made in case of non-payment or non-acceptance. protest is a formal act of a notary public. this is explained under a separate section. =148. time of payment and days of grace.= a negotiable instrument is payable at the time mentioned in the instrument. if a negotiable instrument is payable a stipulated time after date, and the instrument bears no date, its date is the time it was delivered. the term month, is held to mean calendar month, and not a certain number of days. if a note is dated february 6th, and is payable thirty days after date, it matures march 6th. when a negotiable instrument is payable a specified number of days after date, the time is counted by excluding the day on which the instrument is given, and including the final day stipulated. negotiable instruments may be made payable on demand of the payee or holder. such paper is payable at the option of the holder. it is sometimes called paper payable _on call_. negotiable instruments may be made payable on or before a certain day. these instruments are valid negotiable instruments. they really mature at the day fixed in the instrument, but may be paid at any time after delivery at the option of the payee or holder. according to the law merchant, three days were allowed the party liable on a bill or note to make payment, in addition to the time fixed for payment. these were called _days of grace_. in the majority of the states, days of grace have been abolished by statute. when not abolished by statute, days of grace are still allowed. =149. innocent purchaser for value without notice.= the feature that distinguishes negotiable instruments from ordinary contracts is that negotiable instruments may be transferred in such a manner that the transferee receives the instrument free from certain defenses which are good against the transferror. for example, one who purchases another's rights under an ordinary contract takes the exact position of the transferror. any defenses good against the seller are good against the purchaser. however, a purchaser for value before maturity of negotiable instrument, who has no notice of any defenses to the instrument, takes it free from all but real defenses. real defenses are _infancy of the maker_, _forgery_, _material alteration_, and _illegality_. but such a defense as fraud, want of consideration, duress, or any except a real defense is not available against an innocent purchaser for value without notice. an innocent purchaser for value without notice, of a negotiable instrument, is also called a _bonâ fide_ holder, or a holder in due course. a person who purchases a negotiable instrument showing defects or defenses on its face, cannot claim to be a _bonâ fide_ holder. a person who purchases negotiable instruments after maturity, takes them subject to all defenses good against the seller. such a purchaser is not a _bonâ fide_ holder. =150. presentment for payment of negotiable instruments.= so far as the maker or acceptor of negotiable instruments is concerned, in the absence of a place for payment stipulated in the instrument, a negotiable instrument does not have to be presented for payment. as a matter of practice, however, negotiable instruments are presented to the maker and acceptor at their places of business or at their residences for payment at maturity. in order to hold indorsers, however, a negotiable instrument must be presented to the maker or acceptor at maturity, and, in case of failure to pay, notice must be given indorsers, else they are relieved from liability. when a place for payment is specified in a negotiable instrument, presentment at that place is sufficient. when no place of payment is designated in the instrument, presentment to the maker or acceptor personally, wherever he may be found, or at his residence or place of business is sufficient. =151. notice of dishonor and protest.= when a negotiable instrument has been presented to a maker or acceptor for payment, and payment has been refused, the holder should notify the drawer, if the instrument is a bill of exchange or draft, and the indorsers, no matter what the form of the negotiable instrument, of the fact of dishonor. if such notice is not given, the acceptor or indorsers are discharged from liability. this notice should be given by the holder of the paper, or his agent, within a reasonable length of time after dishonor. the notice may be given by a verbal notification, by the delivery of written message, or by mailing notice to the residence or place of business of the indorsers or drawer. everyone whom a holder desires to hold liable, must be notified in case of dishonor. if a drawer of a bill or an indorser of a note waives notice of dishonor by so stipulating in the instrument, notice as to them is unnecessary. in case of an inland bill, mere notice in writing mailed to their usual address, or actual notice is sufficient. by inland bill is meant one made payable, or to be accepted in the same state or country where drawn. in case of a foreign bill of exchange, or one made payable, or to be accepted, in a state or country other than where made or drawn, notice of dishonor must be by protest. this is true of notice to the drawer for failure of a drawee to accept, as well as for failure of an acceptor to pay. protest is a formal declaration of a notary public, an officer recognized by all countries as authorized to administer oaths. technically, only bills of exchange need be protested. by practice, however, promissory notes and checks are protested as well. =152. certificate of protest.= the following is a common form of protest: state of ohio } cuyahoga co. } ss i, john arthur, a notary public, having been duly appointed and sworn, and residing at cleveland, cuyahoga co., ohio, do certify that on the 10th day of december 1909, i presented the annexed promissory note for payment at the city trust co., where same is made payable, and that i did this at the request of the state trust co., and that payment was refused. i further certify that i did protest, and i do now publicly protest against the maker, indorsers, and all others concerned, for all costs and damages connected with the failure to pay this instrument. i certify that i am not interested in any way in this instrument. i further certify that i have this day deposited in the post office at cleveland, ohio, notices of this protest, signed by me as notary public, and addressed to the following persons. (names and addresses of persons connected with the instrument.) in testimony whereof i have hereto affixed my signature and seal of my office, this 10th day of dec., 1909. john arthur, notary public. notary seal. quiz questions partnerships 1. may a party do business under a name other than his own? 2. if a party uses a trade name does this constitute a partnership? 3. define partnership, and give an example of an agreement constituting a partnership. 4. how many persons may engage in a single partnership enterprise? 5. give the principal features of the partnership relation. 6. how is a partnership created? 7. may partnerships be created by oral agreement? if so, give an example of an oral partnership agreement. 8. must any kind of partnership agreement be in writing? if so, give an example. 9. what is meant by partnership by estoppel? 10. give an example of an executory partnership agreement. 11. what classes of persons may legally become partners? 12. may an infant become a partner? 13. _a_, aged twenty-two years, enters into a partnership with _b_, aged seventeen. may _a_ avoid a contract of the partnership made with _c_, a third person, on account of the infancy of _b_? 14. give an example of an infant ratifying a partnership agreement. 15. can drunken or insane persons enter into partnerships? 16. what names are partners entitled to take as partnership names? 17. can a partnership take the name of another partnership? if not, why not? 18. can a partnership take a name which does not suggest the name of any of the partners interested? 19. can a partnership ever have more than one name? if so, under what circumstances? 20. give, and define the names applied to different kinds of partners. 21. distinguish _silent partners_ and _secret partners_. 22. may a partnership exist as between the partners, and not exist as to third persons trading with the partnership? 23. may a partnership exist as to third persons dealing with an apparent partnership, while none exists between the apparent partners themselves? if so, give an example. 24. state what constitutes a partnership as to third persons dealing with a partnership. 25. what are the powers of a partnership? 26. of what may the property of a partnership consist? 27. may a partnership make and own promissory notes? 28. what constitutes holding a person out as a partner? 29. what is the liability of a person held out as a partner? 30. can a person be liable as a partner who is held out as a partner without his knowledge or consent? 31. what are the duties of partners to each other? 32. can one partner sue his partner at law? 33. if one partner dishonestly takes possession of partnership assets, how may his partner get legal relief? 34. what is meant by _joint liability_ of partners? 35. what is meant by _liability in solido_? 36. what is partnership liability to third persons? 37. is the individual property of members of the partnership liable to be subjected to the payment of partnership claims? 38. when, if at all, can the property of individual partners be subjected to the payment of judgments against the partnership before the property of the partnership has been exhausted? 39. what is the individual liability of the members of a partnership for the partnership debts? 40. what effect, if any, does change of membership have upon a partnership? 41. does the addition of a new member dissolve a partnership? 42. does withdrawal of a member discharge a partnership? 43. what effect, if any, does death of a partner have upon a partnership? 44. define _survivorship_. 45. what are the rights and duties of survivors of a partnership? 46. in what ways may a partnership be dissolved? 47. in what cases must notice of dissolution of partnership be given? 48. how, and to whom must notice of dissolution of partnership be given? 49. upon dissolution of a partnership what part of the firm assets belongs to firm creditors, and what part of individual assets belongs to individual creditors? 50. in case a partnership is insolvent, and there is no living solvent partner, what rights have firm creditors in the assets of the individual partners as compared with individual creditors? 51. define and describe _limited partnership_. 52. what is the principal distinction between limited and general partnership? 53. define _special partner_ as used in connection with limited partnerships. [illustration: office building of the chicago edison company, chicago. ill. shepley, rutan & coolidge, architects, chicago. two lower stories of pink milford granite, polished; upper stories of the same granite, with ten-cut surface. built in 1899, note the decorative feature of the lighting in lower and upper portion of building.] corporations 1. define _corporation_. 2. may an association of persons create a corporation by agreement? 3. is a corporation a natural person? 4. how were corporations originally created? 5. how are corporations created at the present time? 6. distinguish the creation of a corporation and the creation of a partnership. 7. for what purpose may a corporation be created? 8. what is the franchise of a corporation? 9. is a partnership distinct from the members composing it? 10. is a corporation dissolved by a change of membership? 11. when does a partnership cease to exist? 12. are the members of a corporation agents of the corporation? 13. who are the authorized agents of a partnership? 14. what are the powers of a corporation? 15. enumerate the ordinary powers of a corporation. 16. is the charter of a corporation a contract? 17. may a charter of a corporation be revoked at the will of the legislature that granted it? 18. how are corporations created? 19. what is meant by a _corporation's charter_? 20. what kinds of corporations, if any, may be organized under united states laws? 21. by what authority are national banks organized? 22. under what provisions are most corporations organized? 23. under what conditions may corporate charters be revoked? 24. state briefly the necessary steps in organizing a corporation. 25. must a corporation have a corporate name? 26. may a corporation change its name? 27. may two corporations use the same name? 28. may a corporation appropriate a name descriptive of an article manufactured? 29. give an example of a name a corporation is not permitted to appropriate. 30. classify corporations. 31. define and distinguish _private corporations_ and _public corporations_. 32. give an example of a public corporation; a private corporation. 33. is a street railway company a private or public corporation? 34. when does a corporation's existence commence? 35. what determines when a corporation's existence commences? 36. define _estoppel_. 37. give an example of a corporation estoppel from denying its corporate existence. 38. are third persons ever estopped from denying a corporation's legal existence? if so, give an example. 39. is a corporation's charter a contract? 40. if a corporation's charter is a contract, who are the contracting parties? 41. at the present time can a corporation obtain an irrevocable charter? 42. define _de facto corporation_. 43. define _de jure corporation_. 44. can a _de facto_ corporation avoid its liabilities on the ground of incomplete organization? 45. who can object to a _de facto_ corporation being incompletely organized? 46. what is necessary to create a _de facto_ corporation? 47. define _promoter_. 48. is a promoter personally liable for the obligations made by himself in connection with organizing a corporation? 49. is a corporation responsible for the obligations created by its promoter? 50. how, if at all, may a corporation adopt the obligations of its promoters? 51. may a corporation be reorganized by consent of its members? 52. is a reorganized corporation a new corporation, or a continuation of the old corporation? 53. is a reorganized corporation ever liable for the obligations of the old corporation? 54. may a reorganized corporation ever escape the obligations of the old corporation? 55. how, if at all, may corporations consolidate? 56. is a consolidated corporation distinct from the corporation from which it is formed? 57. may corporations consolidate by consent of the members of each? 58. is a consolidated corporation liable for the debts of its component corporations? 59. what is the _governing board_ of a corporation for profit called? 60. how are directors elected? 61. how, and under what circumstances and conditions may corporate meetings be held? 62. who are entitled to vote at corporate meetings? 63. may a member of a corporation ever have more than one vote? 64. what is meant by _cumulative voting_? 65. what is meant by _ticket voting_? 66. define _quorum_. 67. what constitutes a quorum? 68. must a member of a corporation be present to have his shares of stock voted? 69. how, if at all, may a shareholder vote by proxy? 70. who are members of a corporation? 71. is a stockholder personally liable for the debts of the corporation? 72. what is the liability of a shareholder in a national bank? 73. what is meant by stockholder's double liability? 74. how may a person become a stockholder in a corporation? 75. what is a certificate of stock? 76. may a person become a stockholder without having a certificate of stock? 77. may a person hold a certificate of stock and not be a stockholder? 78. must directors of a corporation be stockholders? 79. how, if at all, is the authority of the board of directors limited? 80. what are the principal duties of directors? 81. may a board of directors dispose of the entire assets of the corporation? 82. may directors act for their own private interests in dealing with the corporation? 83. may a director ever contract with the corporation? 84. define _by-laws_, _rules_, and _regulations_. 85. distinguish by-laws and resolutions. 86. define _capitalization_. 87. distinguish capitalization from assets of a corporation. 88. define _capital stock_. 89. may a corporation sell its shares for less than par? 90. distinguish par value and face value of stock. 91. if a corporation sells a shareholder stock at 5% of its par value, and the corporation is solvent, who, if any one, may object? 92. must shares be paid for in money? 93. if a person purchases shares from a stockholder at less than par, not knowing that the shares have not been paid for in full, is he liable to the corporation for the balance of their par value? 94. define _call_ and _assessment_. 95. may an assessment be made before a call? 96. may an assessment be made on stock paid for at par? 97. define and give an example of _watered stock_. 98. upon what authority may the capital stock of a corporation be increased or decreased? 99. what is a _stock dividend_? 100. how many kinds of stock are there? 101. define preferred stock, and distinguish it from common stock. 102. do preferred stockholders have any advantage over common stockholders when the affairs of the corporation are wound up, and its assets distributed? 103. how may dividends be paid? 104. may a stockholder force the corporation to pay a dividend? 105. when, if at all, are dividends debts of the corporation? 106. are certificates of stock negotiable instruments? 107. distinguish certificates of stock from regular negotiable instruments. 108. how are transfers of stock made by the corporation? 109. what, if any, is the individual liability of a stockholder for the debts of the company? 110. what ownership, if any, does a stockholder have in the property of the corporation? 111. can a corporation transact business without the aid of officers and agents? 112. how are the officers of a corporation appointed? 113. what are the usual officers of a corporation? 114. what are the duties of the president of a corporation? 115. may the officers of a corporation ever act without the express authority of the board of directors? 116. what is the proper corporate signature to a contract? 117. what is the proper corporate signature to a negotiable instrument? 118. can a corporation legally sign a contract without using its seal? 119. define _ultra vires_. 120. give an example of an _ultra vires act_. 121. are third persons deemed to have notice of the powers and limitations of a corporation. 122. does a corporation have any rights outside the state of its creator? 123. what kind of corporations, if any, are authorized by the united states constitution to transact business in any state? 124. what are the general provisions of the states regulating foreign corporations? 125. explain the meaning of the term _doing business_ as applied to foreign corporations. 126. is a corporation liable for its torts and crimes. 127. how, if at all, can a corporation be punished? 128. what is meant by _dissolution of a corporation_? 129. how can a corporation be dissolved? 130. can a corporation be dissolved by consent of its members? negotiable instruments 1. name some of the most common forms of negotiable instruments. 2. what is a _negotiable instrument_? 3. what advantages do negotiable instruments have over money for commercial uses? 4. define _negotiability_. 5. are all promissory notes negotiable instruments? 6. what words are necessary to make an instrument negotiable? 7. may an instrument be negotiable without containing the words _or order_, or _or bearer_? 8. what kind of negotiable instrument, if any, can be transferred without indorsement? 9. define _assignment_. 10. can negotiable instruments be assigned? 11. distinguish assignability from negotiability. 12. what is meant by the _law merchant_? 13. how do we happen to recognize the rules of the law merchant? 14. when was the law merchant first recognized in england? 15. to what classes of negotiable instruments were the rules of the law merchant originally applied? 16. to what classes of negotiable instruments are the rules of the law merchant now applied? 17. define _promissory note_. 18. name the parties to a promissory note. 19. give the essential features of a promissory note. 20. must a promissory note be dated? 21. distinguish drafts and bills of exchange. 22. give the names of the parties to a bill of exchange. 23. how is a bill of exchange accepted? 24. what is a _check_? 25. how does a check differ from a bill of exchange? 26. are days of grace allowed in the payment of checks? 27. what is certification of a check? 28. what effect does certification of a check by the payee have upon the maker? 29. are bonds negotiable instruments? 30. what are _registered bonds_? 31. what are _coupon bonds_? 32. what are _trust deeds_? 33. what are _collateral notes_? 34. are collateral notes negotiable? 35. by whom are collateral notes commonly used? 36. what is a _cognovit note_? 37. how does a cognovit note differ from an ordinary note? 38. define _certificate of deposit_. 39. how does a certificate of deposit differ from a check? 40. is a bank liable upon its certificates of deposit? 41. give the requisites of a negotiable instrument. 42. does every negotiable instrument require a payee? 43. may a negotiable instrument be signed by mark? 44. is an "i. o. u." a negotiable instrument? 45. name the necessary parties to a negotiable instrument. 46. how does a second indorser differ from a first indorser? 47. what is the liability of a drawer of a bill of exchange? 48. distinguish _foreign bills of exchange_ and _inland bills of exchange_. 49. what kinds of bills of exchange must be protested? 50. distinguish between _drawee_ and _acceptor_. 51. what is the liability of an acceptor? 52. how may a bill of exchange be accepted? 53. what is a qualified acceptance? 54. in case of a qualified acceptance, if the acceptor fails to pay the draft at maturity is the drawer liable? 55. what is the liability of a maker of a promissory note? 56. if a note is made payable at a bank, and is not presented at the bank at maturity, is the maker discharged? 57. define _indorsement_. 58. define _blank indorsement_. 59. what is the difference as to transferability between a note payable to bearer and one indorsed in blank? 60. define _allonge_. 61. define _indorsement_ in full. 62. distinguish between the liability of one who indorses in blank and one who indorses in full. 63. if a note indorsed in blank, is subsequently indorsed in full, can it be transferred by delivery without the indorsement of the indorsee in full? 64. define and explain indorsement without recourse. 65. what is the liability, if any, of an indorser in full? 66. does an indorsement for collection destroy the negotiability of a note? 67. what is the purpose of an indorsement for collection? 68. give an example of an anomalous indorser. 69. what is the difference between an anomalous indorser and an indorser outside the chain of title. 70. in most jurisdictions what is the liability of an anomalous indorser? 71. in general, what is the liability of an indorser? 72. define _indorser_. 73. what are the warranties of an indorser? 74. are the warranties of an indorser express or implied? 75. define _forgery_. 76. does forgery render a negotiable instrument void or voidable? 77. distinguish between forgery and material alteration. 78. if a note is materially altered by a stranger is it void? 79. define _fraud_. 80. distinguish fraud and duress. 81. are fraud and duress good defenses as against a _bonâ fide_ holder. 82. if a forged note is lost or stolen can it be collected? 83. if a note procured through fraud is lost or stolen can it be collected by an innocent holder? 84. define _real defense_ to a negotiable instrument. 85. what is meant by _personal defense_? 86. enumerate the real defenses to a negotiable instrument. 87. enumerate the personal defenses to a negotiable instrument. 88. define _consideration_. 89. must consideration be stated in a negotiable instrument? 90. what kind of drafts must be presented for acceptance? 91. how are drafts presented for acceptance? 92. what must a holder do if a draft is dishonored? 93. define _protest_. 94. when must negotiable instruments be paid? 95. what are days of grace? 96. do most jurisdictions recognize days of grace at the present time? 97. define _innocent purchaser for value without notice_. 98. define _bonâ fide holder_. 99. define _holder in due course_. 100. distinguish _bonâ fide_ holder and assignee of a negotiable instrument. 101. can a person be a _bonâ fide_ holder of a note who purchases it after it is due? 102. for what purpose must a negotiable instrument be presented for payment? 103. can indorsers of a negotiable instrument be held if the note is not presented for payment? 104. how is a negotiable instrument presented for payment? 105. explain notice of dishonor. 106. what is the necessity of giving notice of dishonor? 107. how is notice of dishonor given? 108. what is a certificate of protest? [illustration: office of president, american school of correspondence, chicago, ill.] commercial law part iii banking, loans, money and credits =153.banks defined and classified.= a bank may be defined to be an institution authorized to receive money for deposit, to make loans, and to issue its promissory notes payable to bearer. a bank may have any one, or all of the above enumerated powers. some banks have powers in addition to those above enumerated. in the absence of prohibiting statute, any person may operate a private bank. the states generally have statutes authorizing the creation and regulation of banks. at the present time, most banks are incorporated companies. as to the source of their existence, banks may be said to be _national_ and _state_. national banks are organized under united states statutes regulating their creation and existence. national banks are discussed more at length under a separate section. all banks other than national are created under state laws, and are called state banks. as to their nature, banks are generally divided into three kinds, _banks of deposit_, _banks of circulation_ and _banks of discount_. banks authorized to receive money for safe keeping are banks of deposit. banks authorized to purchase commercial paper by charging interest in advance are banks of discount. banks authorized to issue their own promissory notes payable to bearer, and actually issuing such notes, are banks of circulation. a single bank may be a bank of discount, of circulation, and of deposit, or it may be a bank of discount, of circulation or of deposit. the ordinary savings bank is a common example of a bank of deposit. a national bank issuing its notes is a common example of a bank of circulation. a national bank usually purchases notes for less than their face value, or makes loans upon notes deducting its interest in advance, making it also a bank of discount. =154. functions and powers of banks.= at the present time most banks are incorporated companies. their authority to exist is given them by the state. their powers are limited by the provisions of their charter. this question is discussed at length in the section on _corporations_. a bank cannot engage in business outside the provisions of its charter. incorporated banks are permitted to pass by-laws by which their functions may the more readily be carried out, and by which the duties of their agents are restricted or defined. reasonable by-laws, if brought to the notice of third persons, also well recognized customs and usages, bind third persons in their dealing with banks. ordinarily, banks have the power to borrow money, but do not have the power to deal in real estate. national banks have no power to loan money on real estate, but they are permitted to take real estate mortgages to prevent losses on loans already made. a bank may also purchase real estate sufficient for the construction of a banking building. banks have the power to collect their own paper, and to act as agents for persons and banks in collecting their paper. the ordinary functions and powers of banks are discussed under separate sections. =155. deposits.= the primary function of a bank is to receive money from third persons and to loan money to third persons. money received from third persons is money received on deposit. banks cannot be compelled to receive money for deposit from anyone. they are permitted to exercise their discretion and reject such deposits as they choose. the ordinary method of making deposits is by delivery of currency consisting of gold, silver, copper, and nickel coin, bank notes and checks to an agent of the bank. the agent authorized to receive deposits is usually called the _receiving teller_. deposits are usually entered by the receiving teller in the customer's pass book. in commercial banks, deposits are ordinarily withdrawn by check, without presenting the pass book. savings banks ordinarily do not permit their customers to use checks, but require them to present their pass books when drawing money. the amount withdrawn is entered in the pass book, and the balance brought down. when money is deposited generally, the bank has the right to mingle it with its own funds. it then becomes the debtor of the depositor in the amount of the deposit. if a fund is deposited with a bank for a special purpose, and the bank is so notified, or if papers, such as securities, bonds and certificates of stock are deposited for safe keeping only, they are known as _special deposits_ and are not mingled with the general funds. subject to the reasonable rules of the bank, a general deposit is subject to withdrawal at the will of the depositor. =156. checks.= a check is a written order upon a bank for the payment of a specified sum of money payable upon demand. commercial banks generally do a checking business. some banks, such as savings banks, do not permit depositors to draw checks against their deposits. savings banks not doing a checking business, usually require their depositors to present their pass books when drawing money. even though written orders are given to third persons, the pass book must be presented by the third person to enable him to obtain the money on the order. in case of banks which do a checking business, the depositor is permitted to draw checks in any amount, payable to any person. the bank must honor these checks so long as the maker's deposit is sufficient to pay them, and the person presenting them is properly identified. upon payment of a check, the bank keeps it and deducts the amount from the maker's deposit. these paid checks, or vouchers, are usually returned by the bank to the customer, every thirty days, with a statement of his account. the customer then examines these checks and compares them with his books, and the bank's balance with his balance, for the purpose of discovering errors. a check is payable on demand and should be presented for payment within a reasonable time after receipt. if the receiver lives in the same place as the maker, the check should be presented during the business hours of that day. if the receiver resides in a distant place, the check should be presented as soon as possible under the circumstances. as long as the bank has funds of the maker, it must honor his checks. if the bank has some funds of the maker, but not sufficient to pay the check presented, it should refuse to pay anything thereon. if the bank refuses to honor a check when the maker has sufficient funds to meet it, the bank is liable at the suit of the depositor, for any damages suffered. receiving a check does not of itself extinguish the debt. the taker of the check may present it for payment, and if payment is refused by the bank, and the maker is notified promptly, the taker may sue the maker on the check, or on the debt for which the check was given. certified checks are discussed under the section on _negotiable instruments_. =157. loans and credits.= one of the primary functions of banks is to make loans. different kinds of banks are authorized to make different kinds of loans. savings banks generally are authorized to make loans on real estate. national banks are not permitted to loan on real estate. banks ordinarily are permitted to discount notes. by discounting promissory notes is meant purchasing them at a sum less than their face value, partially, at least, on the credit of the seller. banks are not permitted to discount notes at usurious rates of interest. banks are restricted by their corporate charters as to the nature of the loans they can make. _credit_ is the term applied to a present benefit obtained for an agreement to do something in the future. a person's credit depends largely upon his business reputation and assets. companies called mercantile agencies are organized for the sole purpose of furnishing credit information. these companies publish books giving the trade records and estimated assets of business men in the various cities and towns of the different states. these books are sold to wholesalers, or to anyone desiring credit information. companies also employ men to obtain and furnish special reports on people's assets and business reputation. the bulk of business is done on credit. compared with the total amount of business transacted, a small amount is done for cash. credit is an important part of a business man's capital. =158. rights and obligations of banks in case of forged, lost, or stolen checks.= forgery or material alteration of a negotiable instrument renders it void. banks are authorized by depositors drawing checks to pay valid checks, but not forged ones. ordinarily, a bank must stand the loss if it pays a forged check. the only exception is in case the depositor has so carelessly drawn the check that it can be forged without the bank being able to discover the forgery by the exercise of due care. most jurisdictions also hold that a depositor must examine his returned checks within a reasonable time after their return by the bank. if a forgery is not reported within a reasonable time after the return of the check by the bank, the check is presumed to be genuine, and the depositor cannot thereafter complain. where a check is payable to bearer, or payable to order, and indorsed in blank by the payee, making it payable to bearer, and is lost or stolen, an innocent party purchasing it from the finder or thief gets good title to it. such paper circulates like money without further indorsement. a bank in paying such a check to a _bona fide_ holder who takes it from a thief or finder without notice of its having been lost or stolen, is not liable to the maker for the loss. [illustration: department of records, american school of correspondence] =159. national banks.= the constitution of the united states does not expressly give congress the power to create national banks but it gives congress the power to collect taxes, duties and imports, to borrow and coin money and to make all loans necessary to carry into execution the powers expressly given. to carry into effect the powers given relating to money, congress is deemed to have the power to create national banks. congress has passed laws under which national banks may be organized by associations consisting of not less than five natural persons who are required to sign and file articles with the comptroller of currency at washington, d. c., which articles shall specify the name of the proposed bank, its place of operation, its capital, the names and residences of its shareholders, and the number of shares held by each. national banks may be organized with a capital of not less than twenty-five thousand dollars ($25,000.00) in cities whose population does not exceed three thousand, and with a capital of not less than fifty thousand dollars ($50,000.00) in places whose population does not exceed six thousand inhabitants, and with a capital of one hundred thousand dollars ($100,000.00) in places whose population does not exceed fifty thousand inhabitants, and with a capital of not less than two hundred and fifty thousand dollars ($250,000.00) in places exceeding fifty thousand inhabitants. before commencing business, national banks are required to transfer and deliver to the treasurer of the united states, united states registered bonds, in amount not less than thirty thousand dollars ($30,000.00), and not less than one third the paid-in capital stock. upon making such a deposit of bonds, the comptroller of currency is authorized to issue to the bank, notes of the bank in different denominations, equal to 90% of the market value of the bonds deposited. these are the only circulating notes national banks are authorized to use. the comptroller of currency is authorized to replace worn notes or returned notes, proof of the destruction of which is furnished. national banks in the seventeen largest cities of the united states are required to keep on hand, money equal to 25% of their circulating notes and deposits. national banks of all other places are required to keep on hand, money equal to 15% of their circulating notes and deposits. national banks are not permitted to make loans on real estate or on their own stock, except to protect loans already made. in case of insolvency of a national bank, the stockholders are liable in an amount equal to the par value of their stock, in addition to their liability to pay the par value of their stock subscriptions. the shareholders having legal title to the stock at the time of insolvency of the bank are the ones liable for the additional liability. national banks may charge the rate of interest authorized by statute of the state where the bank is located. if unlawful interest, called _usury_, is charged, the bank forfeits the entire interest. if the usurious interest has been paid by the borrower, double the amount of the usury may be recovered from the bank by the borrower. national banks are authorized to buy drafts and notes, to discount commercial paper, to borrow and loan money, to deal in government bonds, to loan money on collateral, but not to guarantee or indorse commercial paper, except in the transaction of their legitimate business. they are permitted to discount or purchase bills and notes, but not to charge more than the legal rate of interest, even though the paper is purchased. they may charge reasonable rates for exchange in addition to interest. =160. savings bank and trust companies.= all banks other than national are organized under state laws, and are known as _state banks_. the most common kinds of state banks are savings banks and trust companies. savings banks ordinarily receive money for safe keeping, acknowledging receipt by entering deposits in a pass book which the depositor presents upon making deposits, and upon withdrawal of funds. upon drawing funds, the amount is deducted from the balance shown in the pass book and the balance brought down. savings banks ordinarily do not permit depositors to draw checks against their accounts. they are required to present their pass books in person, or to give them to an agent or payee designated in a written order to be presented in withdrawing deposits. if pass books are lost, savings banks are not obliged to pay deposits unless indemnified against loss by the depositor. savings banks are permitted to make loans on real estate. trust companies usually have all the power of savings banks with the added power to act in trust capacities as trustees of estates and for bond holders, as executors, etc. they usually do a checking business for the accommodation of their depositors. =161. clearing houses.= a clearing house is an association of banks of a certain locality, usually of a city, organized for the convenience of its members in making settlements with each other. as a matter of practice, holders of checks do not personally present them for payment at the banks on which they are drawn, but deposit them with the bank with which they do business. these banks collect them from the banks on which they are drawn. each day, a city bank has deposited with it a large number of checks drawn on other banks of the same city. it would involve much labor to present these checks for payment on the banks on which they are drawn, and secure currency or checks therefor. for convenience, banks organize clearing houses for the purpose of making daily exchanges, with each other, of checks. if _bank a_ has deposited with it $1,000.00 of checks on _bank b_, and _bank b_ has deposited with it $1,100.00 of checks on _bank a_, the agents of the two banks meet at the clearing house, and exchange checks and _bank a_ pays _bank b_ the difference between the total amount of checks exchanged, or $100.00. if the membership of the association consists of twenty-five banks, the principle is the same, the members exchange checks and pay each other the difference in amount. clearing houses have rules by which members are required to return checks not properly drawn, over-drafts, forged paper, etc. within a certain time to the paying bank, or be precluded from raising objections to the clearing house balance. =162. money.= ordinarily the term, _money_, is used to designate any medium accepted by a seller from a purchaser in the sale of property. it is the thing that passes current among business men in their dealings with each other. bank notes, checks, gold and silver, nickel and copper coin, as well as united states certificates, are money. money is sometimes used to designate legal tender. _legal tender_ is the medium of exchange which creditors are obliged by law to accept in payment of debts. united states notes, except for duties and interest on public debts, and gold certificates are legal tender. gold coin and silver dollars are legal tender. subsidiary silver coin, or half dollars, quarters and dimes, in amount not exceeding ten dollars are legal tender. nickels and pennies are legal tender in amount not exceeding twenty-five cents. silver certificates and national bank notes are not legal tender. =163. discount.= _discount_ is money paid in advance for the use of money. it is interest paid in advance. one of the primary functions of banks is to discount negotiable paper. the states generally have laws fixing the legal and maximum rates of interest. if banks or individuals charge interest in excess of these rules, they subject themselves to the fixed penalties. in connection with usury laws, some confusion has arisen as to what constitutes a purchase and what constitutes a discount. a person is permitted to make contracts and make as large a profit as possible, if no fraud is used. if the contract involves the purchase of a negotiable instrument, as distinguished from a loan of money, he may make as large a profit as he is able. if _x_ desires to borrow $100.00 of _y_ and _y_ gives him the money and takes _x_'s promissory note, _y_ can deduct only the lawful rate of interest. if, however, _x_ holds _z's_ promissory note indorsed in blank, or payable to bearer, _y_ may purchase the note from _x_ for any price he is able, and if he makes half the face value of it by the transaction, it is regarded as a sale, and not as a loan. this transaction does not come within the usury laws. a bank, however, by the weight of authority is not permitted to make purchases of notes in this sense. the purchase above described, if made by a bank, would be regarded as usurious. banks may purchase notes if so authorized by their charter, but may not charge more than the lawful rate of interest as profit. =164. exchange.= _exchange_ is the term applied to methods of cancelling debts and credits between persons of different places. if _x_, in cleveland, owes _y_, in new york, $100.00, and _z_, in new york, owes _x_, in cleveland, $100.00, it is cheaper and safer for _x_ to send _y_ an order on _z_ for $100.00 than to send legal tender from cleveland to new york. this transaction is called _exchange_. if made between persons of the same country, it is called _domestic_ exchange; if between persons of different countries, it is called _foreign_ exchange. banks of one city keep deposits in other cities for the purpose of selling drafts thereon to customers. =165. interest.= _interest_ is the money paid for the use of money. most states have statutes fixing the rate of interest in transactions where no rate is specified, and fixing the highest rate that may be agreed upon. the following are the rates of interest in the different states: states. where no rate is highest rate that may agreed upon. be agreed upon. alabama 8% 8% alaska 8% 12% arizona 6% any rate arkansas 6% 10% california 7% any rate colorado 8% any rate connecticut 6% 15% delaware 6% 6% district of columbia 6% 10% florida 8% 10% georgia 7% 8% idaho 7% 12% illinois 5% 7% indiana 6% 8% iowa 6% 8% kansas 6% 10% kentucky 6% 6% louisiana 5% 8% maine 6% any rate maryland 6% 6% massachusetts 6% any rate michigan 5% 7% minnesota 6% 10% mississippi 6% 10% missouri 6% 8% montana 8% any rate nebraska 7% 10% nevada 7% any rate new hampshire 6% 6% new jersey 6% 6% new mexico 6% 12% new york 6% 6% north carolina 6% 6% north dakota 7% 12% ohio 6% 8% oklahoma 6% 10% oregon 6% 10% pennsylvania 6% any rate rhode island 6% any rate south carolina 7% 8% south dakota 7% 12% tennessee 6% 6% texas 6% 10% utah 8% 12% vermont 6% 6% virginia 6% 6% washington 6% 12% west virginia 6% 6% wisconsin 6% 10% wyoming 8% 12% =166. usury.= _usury_ is the term applied to interest charged in excess of the rate allowed by law. the states differ in the rate fixed by statute as the legal rate. the most common penalty fixed by statute of the different states, is forfeiture of all interest. insurance _167. insurance defined._ _insurance_ is the name applied to a contract, by the terms of which one party, in consideration of a certain sum of money, agrees to protect another to a certain specified degree against injuries or losses arising from certain perils. the kinds of insurance are almost as numerous as the kinds of perils to which persons or property may be subjected. the nature of insurance contracts are such that legislatures of the states have the power to define what classes of persons may engage in the insurance business. some states provide by statute that only incorporated companies shall transact the business of writing insurance policies, and that these companies shall be subject to stringent state supervision and inspection. states have the right to stipulate upon what terms foreign insurance companies shall have the right to transact business within their borders, and may exclude them from transacting business if they refuse to comply with such provisions. the united states constitution provides that interstate commerce shall be under the control of united states congress. the supreme court of the united states has decided that insurance business is not interstate commerce. therefore the states may determine upon what terms insurance companies may transact business within their territory. unincorporated companies as well as individuals may engage in the business of writing insurance, if it is not provided otherwise by statute. =168. nature of insurance contract.= an insurance policy is a contract requiring competent parties, mutuality, consideration and all the elements necessary to make any kind of a contract. an insurance contract is peculiar in that it binds the insurer to pay damages for losses or injuries arising out of uncertain perils or hazards. it is in the nature of a gambling transaction. a large number of persons pool a portion of their assets, in order to pay losses of a certain character likely to befall only a small portion of the persons entering into the pool. for example, if ten thousand persons pay one dollar each to establish a common fund to protect the members against losses from fire, they do so under the belief and expectation that but few of the number ever will sustain loss from the peril of fire. an insurance contract is so closely akin to a gambling contract that persons are not permitted to take insurance on property, or upon the lives of persons, unless they have an individual interest, which they should have a purpose or interest in protecting outside of a mere disposition to wager. this interest is called _insurable interest_ and is discussed under a separate section. it is true that many kinds of life insurance policies protect against death, and that death is an event certain to occur to the insured, but the real purpose of the policy is to give protection against the uncertainty of the time of death. the uncertainty of the thing sought to be protected against is as great in life insurance as in any kind of insurance. =169. parties to insurance contracts.= primarily there are only two parties to an insurance contract, the party to be paid for the loss, in case the event insured against occurs, who is called the _insured_, and the party, who for a consideration agrees to pay an amount certain, or to be determined upon the happening of the uncertain event. this party is called the _insurer_ or _underwriter_. in many insurance contracts, a third party is interested. for example, _a_ may insure his life in _b co._, for the benefit of his wife, _c_. _c_ may have nothing to do with the contract except being named as beneficiary thereunder. she pays nothing for this benefit. it is a contract made for her benefit. after she has been made beneficiary, _a_ cannot change beneficiaries without the consent of _c_. in case of _c's_ death, _a_ may voluntarily name another beneficiary. if _a_ is indebted to _b_, and _b_, considering _a_ insolvent, desires to secure the debt by taking out a policy of insurance on _a's_ life in the _c_ company, he cannot take out such a policy without the consent of _a_. while a third person may be interested in an insurance contract, or his consent may be necessary before the contract can be made, there are primarily only two parties to the contract, the _insured_ and the _insurer_. =170. kinds of insurance.= probably the first kind of insurance written was marine. the next kind was fire; this was followed by life insurance, and this in turn, by the many varieties of modern insurance covering almost all kinds of hazards imaginable. the following kinds of insurance are in common use: marine, fire, life, accident, tornado, graveyard, fraternal, fidelity, boiler, credit, guaranty title, plate glass, mutual benefit, employer's liability, hail, hurricane and health. no attempt is here made to discuss all the different kinds of insurance. an endeavor is made to discuss some of the fundamental legal principles connected with the most common kinds of insurance. these principles apply to all kinds of insurance. =171. insurable interest.= courts refuse to recognize the validity of insurance contracts, unless the party taking the insurance has a pecuniary interest, present or reasonably expected, in the life or property insured. such an interest is known in law as an _insurable interest_. insurable interest cannot be exactly defined. it depends upon the circumstances surrounding each particular case. some things have been decided by the courts to constitute an insurable interest. cases are continually arising, however, which present new features which must be decided upon their merits. insurable interest can only be described, it cannot exactly be defined. it is sometimes said to be a money or pecuniary interest possessed, or reasonably expected, by the party entering into the insurance contract. a father may insure the life of his child, of his wife, or his servant under contract for a period of service. a party cannot, however, insure the life of a person with whom he is in no way connected by close blood relationship, or upon whom he does not depend for present or future support. such a contract is regarded as a mere wager, which a sound public policy refuses to enforce, or even to recognize as valid. a person may insure a growing crop, and the life of animals owned by him. a mortgagee, mortgager or pledgee of property may insure the property. a creditor may insure the life of his debtor; a person may insure his property against robbery. in fact a person may insure the life of a person or any property belonging to him or to another, the loss of which will cause him a pecuniary loss. in case of life insurance policies, if there is an insurable interest at the time the insurance contract is made, the policy is valid, even though the insurable interest afterwards ceases. any relationship, either by blood or marriage, close enough to make it of pecuniary advantage to the party taking the insurance to have the insured continue to live, is regarded sufficient to constitute an insurable interest. it has been held that a brother has no insurable interest in the life of his brother, nor a granddaughter in the life of her grandfather, nor a son-in-law in the life of his mother-in-law. a parent, however, has an insurable interest in the life of his child or wife; or a granddaughter in the life of her grandfather if she depends upon him for her support. a person may insure his own life or property in favor of any one else. the question of insurable interest arises only in case one endeavors to insure the life of another, or the property of another in which one has only a slight interest. =172. forms of insurance contract.= the states generally provide by statute, that to be enforceable, contracts to answer for the debt, default or obligation of another, shall be in writing (see _statute of frauds_, chapter on contracts.) the courts have decided that an insurance contract is not a contract to answer for the debt, default or obligation of another, but a direct contract by which the insurance company for a consideration agrees to pay its own debt in case of loss on the part of the insured. insurance contracts need not be in writing. oral contracts of insurance like other simple contracts are binding upon the parties thereto. for example, _a_, representing an insurance company, meets _b_, and agrees orally to insure _b's_ house from twelve o'clock of a certain day, and accepts the premium for one year's insurance. the house burns the evening of the day after the insurance is to become effective. _a's_ insurance company is bound by the oral contract of insurance. if _a_ is not permitted by his company to make oral contracts of insurance, and _a_ so tells _b_, or if _b_ knows of this fact, the contract is not binding, since _a_ acts without authority. if _a_ meets _b_ on monday, and orally agrees to procure for him a written policy of insurance on _b's_ house to take effect from monday noon, and _b's_ house burns tuesday morning, _a_ having failed to procure the written policy of insurance for _b_, the insurance company is not liable to _b_ for the loss. _b_ had a contract with _a_ by the terms of which _a_ promised to procure a policy of insurance for _b_. _a_ did not orally promise to insure the house for _b_. _b_ has an action for damages against _a_, but not an action on a contract of insurance against the company. insurance agents are often authorized to issue receipts, called _binders_, to the effect that insurance has been contracted by a party from a certain time. these binders constitute sufficient evidence to enable the insured to enforce his contract of insurance. agents are sometimes authorized to enter a memorandum in their books of insurance, called _entries_ in their binding books. these constitute sufficient evidence of the formation of a contract between insurer and insured, to enable the latter to enforce his contract in case of loss. =173. warranties and representations in insurance contracts.= the term, _warranty_ is commonly used in connection with contracts of sales of personal property, where it is used to designate a collateral contract connected with the principal contract in question. in connection with insurance contracts, it means a statement or stipulation which, by reference or express term, is itself made a part of the contract of insurance. the principal distinction between a warranty in connection with sale of personal property, and in connection with contracts of insurance, is that in the former case, breach of warranty usually does not discharge the contract, but simply gives rise to an action for damages, while in case of contracts of insurance, breach of warranty discharges the contract itself. life insurance companies generally require formal written application by which the applicant for insurance is required to answer questions. these questions and answers are made a part of the policy or contract of insurance, either by reference, or by incorporation, and become warranties. if they are not true, the policy may be avoided by reason thereof. to constitute a warranty, a stipulation must be made a part of the insurance contract either by direct reference, or by express incorporation therein. to constitute a warranty, the contract of insurance must contain a stipulation that the statement or assertion in question is a warranty. if a warranty proves false, no matter if innocently made, the contract is discharged thereby. warranties are strictly construed. much injustice has been done by reason of warranties in insurance contracts. some states provide by statute, that neither the application for insurance, nor the rules and regulations of the company shall be considered as warranties unless expressly incorporated in the policy as warranties. a distinction is made between representations and warranties. a representation is a statement made as an inducement to enter into a contract of insurance. it is regarded as one of the preliminaries to the contract of insurance and not as a vital part of the contract itself. if a representation proves not to be true in some particular, the contract of insurance is not discharged by reason thereof. to constitute a ground for avoiding a contract, a representation must be false, fraudulent, and material to the contract. it is sometimes said that a warranty is a stipulation in the contract of insurance itself, and must be complied with whether true or not, while a representation is usually given verbally, or in a separate document, and need only be substantially complied with. in case of doubt as to whether statements are representations or warranties, courts incline toward treating them as representations. answers to questions were made in an application for insurance followed by the statement, "the above are true and fair answers to the foregoing questions in which there are no misrepresentations or suppression of facts, and i acknowledge and agree that the above statement shall form the basis of the agreement with the insurance company." the policy of insurance did not state that these questions were incorporated as warranties. in a suit on the policy, the court held the answers to be representations and not warranties. =174. life, term, and tontine policies.= _life policy_ is the term applied to a contract of insurance payable only at the death of the insured. _term_ or _endowment policy_ is the term applied to insurance payable at the death of the insured, or at the expiration of a certain term or period of years, if the insured survives such period. the term, _tontine_ insurance, is the name applied to insurance paid out of the proceeds of unpaid policies during a certain period or term. if the insured survives the term, and pays the premium he benefits by receiving a share of the proceeds received from the policies of those members who do not survive the period, or who let their policies lapse for other reasons. the term is taken from the name of the person who devised the plan. it is sometimes called _cumulative dividend_ insurance. it is written in many different forms. =175. marine insurance.= contracts of insurance against injuries to a ship or cargo at sea are called _marine_ insurance contracts. this is the oldest form of insurance. in securing insurance of this character, the insured impliedly warrants that the vessel is seaworthy. this is the only kind of insurance in which there is an implied warranty. the term _general average_ is used in connection with marine insurance. if it becomes necessary to sacrifice a part of a cargo to save the balance, the owners of part of the cargo saved, together with the owners of the boat, must contribute _pro rata_ toward the loss of the party whose goods are sacrificed. that is, all owners of cargo and boat must stand the loss in proportion to their holdings. the one whose goods are sacrificed is placed in no better or worse situation than the others. =176. standard policies.= some states require by statute, that insurance companies issue policies, the terms of which are fixed by statute. this gives the insured the benefit of a uniform policy, the terms of which are easily comprehended, and which are the same in all cases. these statutory policies are known as standard policies. =177. suicide clauses.= contracts of insurance frequently contain the stipulation that the contract shall be void if the insured suicides. this stipulation is enforceable if it can be proven that the insured suicided while sane. it is generally held to be unenforceable if the insured suicided while insane. an insurance company may stipulate that the contract shall be void if the insured suicides when either sane or insane. such a stipulation is enforceable. the ordinary insurance contract, however, which contains any suicide clause provides against suicide only, and does not contain any stipulation as to the sanity of the insured at the time he commits the act. it is usually held that the burden is upon the insurance company to prove that the insured was sane at the time he committed suicide. if a policy contains no suicide clause whatever, suicide will not avoid the policy unless it is proven that the purpose of the suicide was to defraud the insurance company. if it is proven that one takes out a policy of insurance with the intent to commit suicide, the policy is not enforceable in case of suicide. =178. fidelity and casuality insurance.= contracts of insurance by which the honesty and faithfulness of agents and employees are insured are termed fidelity insurance contracts. _a_, a bank, employs _b_ as clerk. _a_ requires _b_ to furnish a bond, by the terms of which the signers of the bond agree to pay _a_ for any losses arising from _b's_ dishonesty or carelessness. this bond or contract is known as a _fidelity insurance_ contract. insurance contracts providing against losses arising out of accidents to property are termed _casualty insurance_. losses by theft or burglary, or from steam boiler explosions are common examples. =179. reinsurance.= one insurance company may insure its own liability upon policies issued, by entering into separate contracts covering the same risks with other insurance companies. for example, _a_, an insurance company, insures _b's_ factory for $1,000.00. _a_ may in turn insure its liability to _b_, by entering into a contract with _c_, another insurance company, by the terms of which _c_ agrees to insure _a_ against loss upon _a's_ contract with _b_. _a_ is not permitted to bind _c_ by a greater responsibility than _a_ is bound to _b_. in case _b's_ factory is burned, in the absence of express stipulation to the contrary, _a_ may recover from _c_ regardless of whether he has first paid _b_. even though _a_ is insolvent and unable to pay _b_, this is no defense to _c_ on his contract with _a_. _c_ must pay _a_ regardless of the insolvency of _a_. in case _b_ has a fire and _a_ settles with him for $500.00, _c_ is liable to _a_ for only $500.00. that is _c's_ liability to _a_ is the same as _a's_ liability to _b_, unless by the terms of the re-insurance, _c_ assumes only a portion of _a's_ liability to _b_. in this event _c_ must pay _a_ the pro rata share of _a's_ liability to _b_. _b_ in no event has any rights against _c_. _b's_ contract is with _a_, and the fact that _a_ has entered into a contract with _c_ involving the same subject matter, gives _b_ no rights against _c_. =180. assignment of insurance policies.= by _assignment_, is meant a sale or transfer of some intangible interest by one person to another for a valuable consideration. in case of insurance contracts other than life, no real assignment can be made. the person whose property is insured is the one who really benefits by the contracts of insurance. before loss, an attempted assignment of the insurance policy amounts merely to a designation of the person to whom the insurance is to be paid. in case of loss, the original party insured still holds the property insured or the insurable interest, and any breach of the insurance contract on his part avoids the contract. a policy of insurance cannot be assigned without the consent of the insurance company. if an attempt is made to transfer an insurance policy other than life, before loss, without the transfer of the property itself, the transaction does not amount to an assignment, but amounts to a contract between the seller and buyer, by which the latter is entitled to receive the proceeds of the policy if any ever arises. so far as the insurance company is concerned, acts of the seller after the attempted assignment are as complete a defense as before. if the property insured as well as the insurance policy is transferred to another, with consent of the insurance company, this is not an assignment, but amounts to a new contract between the insurance company and the purchaser. after a loss has occurred, the right of the insured against the insurance company amounts to a debt, which may be assigned the same as an ordinary debt. in case of life insurance, if a third party has been named as beneficiary, he is supposed to have such an interest in the policy that a change of beneficiary cannot be made nor can an assignment of the policy be made without his consent. in case the proceeds of a life insurance policy are payable to the insured himself, or to his estate, the policy may be assigned at the will of the insured. if the policy provides against assignment, it cannot be assigned. otherwise, it may be transferred as collateral security, or sold outright at the will of the insured. =181. open and valued policies, and other insurance.= policies or contracts of insurance are said to be _valued_ or _open_, depending upon whether the amount to be paid in case of loss is agreed upon in advance. life insurance policies are examples of valued policies. the insurance company agrees to pay a certain fixed amount in case of death of the insured, or at a certain time. fire insurance policies usually are open policies. the insurance company agrees to pay the amount the insured loses by fire which destroys or injures certain specified property. the fact that a limit is placed upon the liability of the insurance company does not make the policy valued. if, however, the insurance company agrees to pay a certain fixed amount in case of loss by fire the policy is valued. a person may take as much insurance upon his life as he pleases, so long as he reveals the facts to the companies with whom he contracts. in case of insuring property, the insurer is not permitted to recover in excess of the value of the property, regardless of the amount of insurance he carries. if an insurer takes out a policy of insurance upon property already insured, he must not conceal this fact from the subsequent insurer. the second policy will provide for payment, in case of loss in excess of the first insurer's liability, but not in excess of the value of the property. or it will provide that in case of loss each policy shall share the loss in the proportion that the amounts of the policies bear to the loss. suretyship =182. nature of contracts to answer for the debt of another.= in the transaction of business, many contracts are made to answer for the debt or obligation of another, as distinguished from the direct debt or obligation of the person entering into the contract. these contracts are made for the purpose of adding security to the original contract, or for the purpose of enabling the original obligor to obtain credit. the general term applied to contracts to answer for the debts of another is _suretyship_. the arrangement by which one party agrees to answer for the debt or obligation of another is a contract. this kind of a contract requires all the elements of any contract. there must be a meeting of the minds of the contracting parties, consideration, etc. if _a_ purchases goods from _b_, agreeing to pay $100.00 for them, _a's_ obligation to pay _b_ $100.00 is a primary one arising out of a simple contract. if _a_ purchases goods from _b_ agreeing to pay $100.00 therefor, and _c_, as a part of the same transaction, makes a promise in writing to _b_, to pay the $100.00 if _a_ does not pay, _c's_ obligation is one of suretyship. he is known in law as a _guarantor_. his contract is to pay the debt of another. he has agreed to pay _a's_ debt if _a_ fails to pay it. any contract by which a person agrees to answer for the debt or default of another, no matter what its form may be, or by what technical name it may be known, is a contract of suretyship. =183. kinds of suretyship contracts and names of parties thereto.= the term, _suretyship_, is the general or descriptive term applied to all contracts by which one person agrees to answer for the debt or obligation of another. it may be in the form of a contract of a surety, a contract of a guarantor, or a contract of an indorser. there are at least three parties to all suretyship contracts; the party whose debt is secured, called the _principal_; the one to whom the debt is owed, called the _creditor_; and the one promising to pay the debt of another, called the _promisor_. for example, if _a_, orders one thousand dollars' worth of merchandise from _b_, and, as a part of the transaction, _c_ promises to pay the amount for _a_, when due, if _a_ fails to pay it, the transaction is one of suretyship in which _a_ is _principal_, _b_, _creditor_, and _c_, _promisor_. a promisor may be a surety, a guarantor, or an indorser of a negotiable instrument. whether a promisor is a surety, a guarantor, or an indorser depends upon the particular kind of a contract made. in any event it is a promise to pay the debt of another. but the conditions and terms of the agreement may make it that of a _surety_, a _guarantor_ or an _indorser_. the distinguishing features of the different kinds of promisors are discussed under separate sections. =184. contract of a surety.= a surety is one who unconditionally promises to answer for the debt or obligation of another. for example, _a_ gives the following promissory note to _b_: chicago, ill., jan. 2, 1908. thirty days after date i promise to pay to the order of _b_--five hundred dollars. signed--_a_. signed--_c_, surety. this note constitutes an obligation of suretyship in which _b_ is creditor, _a_ is principal, and _c_ is surety. _c's_ obligation is the same as that of _a_, his principal. by signing this note as surety, _c_ binds himself to pay the note when due. he does not bind himself to pay on condition that _a_ does not, or cannot pay the note when due, but binds himself to pay the note when due. his obligation is the same as the obligation of _a_. his obligation is not conditioned upon _a's_ failure or inability to pay. when the note is due, _b_, the creditor, may bring suit against _c_, the surety, disregarding the principal, _a_. _b_ may bring suit against _c_, the surety, without making any demand of payment of _a_, or without receiving _a's_ refusal to pay. if the note is signed by _c_ as above, without using the word, _surety_ after his name, it may be shown by oral testimony that _c_ signed as surety, if such is the fact. a surety may sign any kind of a contract as surety for another. in this event, his obligation is to do the same thing that his principal contracts to do. if the obligation of the one signing as security is conditioned upon anything, it is not the obligation of a surety, but that of a guarantor, no matter by what term designated in the contract. it has been said by some writers that a surety promises to pay the debt of another if the other does not, and a guarantor promises to pay the debt of another if the other cannot. this definition is not correct and is not supported by the cases. this definition applies only to guarantors, since it is a conditional promise to pay the debt or obligation of another. a surety's obligation is absolute, and not conditional in any way upon the failure or inability of the principal debtor to pay. in commercial practice, the contract of a surety is infrequently used as compared with the obligation of a guarantor. [illustration: a 40-foot wide machine tool bay in the claremont, n. h., factories of the sullivan machinery company] =185. contract of a guarantor.= anyone who agrees to answer for the debt, default, or obligation of another upon condition that the other does not or cannot pay the debt, or upon any condition whatever, is a guarantor. for example, _a_ gives _b_ the following promissory note: cleveland, ohio, nov. 27, 1909. sixty days after date, i promise to pay _b_, or order, one hundred dollars. signed--_a_. the back of the note contains the following statement: i guarantee the payment of this note when due. signed--_c_. the contract of _c_ is that of a guarantor. if _a_ fails to pay the note when due, and _b_ demands payment of _a_, and promptly notifies _c_ of _a's_ failure to pay, _c_ is liable. technically, _c_ need not be notified, but it is good business practice to give him notice. _c's_ liability depends upon _a's_ failure to pay the note when due. _c's_ liability is a conditional one as distinguished from the liability of a surety, which is absolute. contracts of guaranty are commonly used in commercial affairs. in obtaining credit, contracts of guaranty are common. they may be used apart from promissory notes or negotiable instruments. any kind of an obligation or contract of another may be guaranteed. a retail dry goods merchant desires to purchase $2,000.00 worth of goods from _b_, a wholesaler. _b_ does not know _a_, but knows _c_, a friend of _a_. _b_ offers to sell _a_ the goods on credit, on condition that _a_ furnish him a letter of guaranty signed by _c_. _a_ furnishes _b_ the following guaranty, signed by _c_: mr. b., new york city. on condition that you sell _a_ an order of goods which he may select, i hereby guarantee the payment of the amount thereof, not to exceed $2,000.00 in amount. signed _c_. by this contract, _c_ binds himself to pay _b_ the purchase price of the goods, not exceeding $2,000.00, if _a_ fails to pay same. contracts of guaranty are of many kinds. they are frequently given to secure contracts of personal service, for the construction of buildings, for mercantile transactions, or in fact for any kind of business transaction. they are contracts, and must contain all the elements of a simple contract, such as consideration, mutuality, competent parties, etc. if a contract of guaranty is given at the time the original contract is made, and is a part of the same transaction, the consideration which supports the original contract supports the contract of guaranty. otherwise, the contract of guaranty must be supported by a separate consideration. =186. contract of an indorser.= one form of suretyship obligation, or obligations, to answer for the debt or default of another, is that of an indorser to a negotiable instrument. the contract of an indorser differs from that of a guarantor, and from that of a surety. for example, _a_ gives the following promissory note to _b_: chicago, ill., jan. 4, 1909. ninety days after date i promise to pay to the order of _b_, one thousand dollars. signed _a_. _b_ indorses the note by writing his name across the back thereof, and delivers it to _c_ for $985.00. the contract now existing between _a_, _b_, and _c_, is one of suretyship, in which _a_ is principal, _b_ creditor, and _c_ promisor. a promisor in suretyship may be either a surety, a guarantor or an indorser. in this particular case the obligation of _c_, the promisor, is that of an indorser. the principal obligation of _c_ to _b_ is that if the note is presented for payment to _a_ at maturity, and upon _a's_ failure to pay, due notice is promptly given to _c_, _c_ will be responsible to _b_ for the amount due on the note. an indorser is also liable upon certain implied warranties in addition to his primary liability as above set forth. in the language of the courts, the technical liability of an indorser is as follows: "i hereby agree by the acceptance by you of title of this paper, and the value you confer upon me in exchange, to pay you, or any of your successors in title, the amount of this instrument, providing you or any of your successors in title present this note to the maker on the date of maturity, and notify me without delay of his failure or refusal to pay. and i warrant that all the parties had capacity and authority to sign, and that the obligation is binding upon each of them. and i will respond to the obligation created by these warranties even though you do not demand payment of the maker at maturity, or notify me of default." an indorser is usually defined to be one who writes his name on a negotiable instrument for the purpose of passing title. by so doing, he agrees to answer for the debt of another. that is, he agrees conditionally to pay the obligation of the maker of the instrument if the maker does not, and if the indorser is promptly notified of the failure of the maker to pay. _irregular indorser_ is the term applied to persons who sign negotiable instruments outside the chain of title. for example, if _a_ is the maker of a promissory note and _b_ is the payee, and _c_ places his signature on the back of the note, _c_ is an irregular indorser. he signs outside the chain of title. _b_ is the one who must first place his signature on the back of the note to transfer title. the courts of the different states have not been in harmony in fixing the liability of an irregular indorser. some make his liability that of a surety, some that of a guarantor, and others that of an indorser. many of the states at the present time have statutes regulating the making and transfer of negotiable instrument. the codes generally fix the liability of an irregular indorser to be that of an indorser. =187. consideration to contracts of suretyship.= an agreement to answer for the debt, default, or obligation of another, to be binding, must constitute a contract. it must contain all the elements of a simple contract, including a valuable consideration. a valuable consideration may be defined to be anything of benefit to the one making the promise, or anything of detriment to the one to whom the promise is made. a promise made in return for a promise, usually termed "a promise for a promise," is considered a valuable consideration as well as something of value actually given to the one making the promise. a consideration need not be adequate. it need not be commensurate with the obligation entered into. in the absence of fraud, a consideration of one dollar will support a contract for $10,000.00 as well as an actual consideration of $10,000.00. in a suretyship contract, three persons are concerned; the party owing the original debt, the one to whom the debt is payable, and the one promising to answer for another's debt. by reason of the third party to a suretyship contract, the question of consideration is sometimes confusing. if the obligation of the promisor, or the party agreeing to answer for the debt of another, is made at the same time, and is a part of the same transaction as the contract between the original debtor and his creditor, the consideration supporting the contract between the original debtor and the creditor supports the contract of the promisor. for example, if _a_ endeavors to purchase $100.00 worth of goods of _b_, and _b_ refuses to make the sale unless _c_ signs a contract of guaranty for the value of the goods, and _c_ signs such a contract of guaranty which is delivered to _b_ before the goods are delivered, the consideration, namely the receipt of $100.00 worth of goods delivered to _a_ which supports _a's_ promise to _b_, will support _c's_ promise to _b_ to pay the $100.00, if _a_ fails to pay it. if the suretyship contract is entered into after the original obligation is incurred, and independently of it, there must be a separate and independent consideration to support it. for example, if _a_ purchases $100.00 worth of goods from _b_, agreeing to pay for them in thirty days, and after fifteen days have elapsed after delivery of the goods, _b_, fearing _a_ is insolvent, asks him to furnish a guaranty of _c_, _c_ must receive a valuable consideration to support his contract of guaranty, separate and distinct from the consideration which supports _a's_ obligation to _b_. =188. contract of suretyship must be in writing.= about 1676, the english parliament passed a statute known as the statute of frauds. among other things this statute required contracts of suretyship to be in writing to be enforceable. the statute was in part as follows, "no action shall be brought whereby to charge the defendant upon any special promise to answer for the debt, default or miscarriage of another person unless the agreement upon which action shall be brought or some memorandum or note thereof shall be in writing, signed by the party to be charged therewith or some person thereunto by him lawfully authorized." the states of this country generally have re-enacted this statute. an oral contract of suretyship is not void. the parties may voluntarily carry it out if they choose. the law does not make it illegal. the law simply says that it is not enforceable. if an action is brought by a party on an oral contract of suretyship and the other party objects for that reason, the court will not enforce the contract. to satisfy the statute of frauds it is not necessary that the entire contract be in writing, but the substance must be stated, and the writing must be signed by the one promising to answer for the other's obligation. a promise to pay one's own debt is not within the statute of frauds, and need not be in writing to be enforceable. if a promise is made for the primary purpose of benefiting the promisor, even though it takes care of the debt of another, it is regarded as an original promise of the promisor, and need not be in writing. =189. general, special, limited and continuing guaranties.= guaranties may be directed to some particular person or firm, or may be addressed to anyone who desires to accept them. an open guaranty, or one addressed to anyone is called a _general_ guaranty. a guaranty addressed to a particular person or firm is called _special_ guaranty. in case of a special guaranty, only the person to whom it is addressed can accept it. anyone can accept a general guaranty. a letter of guaranty addressed, "to whom it may concern," is a general guaranty, while one addressed to "the _a. b._ co.," is a special guaranty. a guaranty limited as to time, either by specifying the date on which it is to expire, or by specifying the number of transactions or the transactions it is to embrace, is a _limited_ guaranty. if no limit of time or of number of transactions is placed therein, it continues until withdrawn by the guarantor. this is called a _continuing_ guaranty. =190. notice to guarantors.= a guarantor may be entitled to two kinds of notice. he may be entitled to notice of acceptance of the guaranty, and he may be entitled to notice of default of his principal. the first is called notice of acceptance of a guaranty, the second, notice of default of a guaranty. if a person stipulates in his letter of guaranty that he requires notice of acceptance of his guaranty, the creditor must give him such notice to hold him. without such stipulation he is not, in most jurisdictions, entitled to notice. _a_ addresses the following letter of credit to _b_: cleveland, o., jan. 4, 1909. mr. b. give a credit at your store to the amount of $25.00. i will pay you if he does not. signed--c. the letter of guaranty does not require _b_ to notify _c_ of its acceptance. in the federal courts, the rule requires notice of acceptance of guaranties. it is sound business practice always to notify a creditor of acceptance of a guaranty. if a letter of guaranty contains a stipulation that the guarantor is to receive notice of default of his principal, such notice must be given, or the guarantor will be discharged to the amount of his damage resulting from failure to receive this notice. in case of guaranties involving the payment of a definite amount at a definite time, for example, in case of guaranty of payment of a promissory note, no notice is necessary on the part of the creditor to the guarantor of the failure of the principal to pay. in other cases it may be stated as a general rule that notice should be given the guarantor of default of his principal. it is safe business policy for a creditor to give notice to a guarantor of default of payment on the part of his principal. =191. defense of payment.= suretyship obligations are obligations to answer for the debts or default of another. they may be in the form of a contract of a surety, of a guarantor, or of an indorser. certain things constitute suretyship defenses. they apply equally to a surety, a guarantor and an indorser. if a principal debtor pays or settles the debt which another promises to pay, the promisor is thereby discharged. payment by a principal is a complete suretyship defense. for example, _a_ owes _b_ $100.00. _c_ in writing promises to pay _a's_ debt when it is due. _a_ pays _b_. _c_ is thereby discharged. =193. defense of granting extension of time to principal.= if a creditor enters into a contract by which the principal is given an extension of time, the promisor is released. this does not mean mere delay in enforcing the collection of the principal debt, nor does it mean leniency of a creditor with his debtor. if, however, a creditor makes a contract based upon a valuable consideration, by which the principal debtor is granted an extension of time within which to pay his debt, the promisor is discharged. for example, if _a_ owes _b_ $1,000.00 on march 1st, and _c_ in writing promises _b_ to pay if _a_ does not, if _b_ does not collect from _a_ on march 1st, but lets the debt run until march 15th or indefinitely, _c_ is not thereby discharged. if, however, _b_ in consideration of _a's_ promise to pay him interest at a certain rate after march 1st, extends the time until april 1st, _c_ is discharged. to discharge the promisor, the agreement with the principal to extend the time of payment must be based upon a valuable consideration, and must be for a definite time. =194. defense of fraud and duress.= fraud practiced by the creditor upon the principal or upon the promisor is a defense to the promisor. for example, if _a_ is indebted to _b_ and _c_ guarantees _a's_ debt, and if _b_ procured the contract with _a_ by fraud, or procured the guaranty from _c_, by fraud, _c_ can avoid the contract of guaranty by reason of the fraud. if the fraud is practiced by the principal upon the promisor, it is no defense to the promisor as against the creditor. for example, if _c_ guarantees _a's_ debt to _b_ and the guaranty is procured through the fraud of _a_ without _b's_ knowledge or consent, the fraud will not avail _c_ as a defense to an action brought by _b_ upon the guaranty. the same is true of duress. for a fuller explanation of fraud and duress see sections on _fraud_ and _duress_ under _contracts_. =195. surety cannot compel creditor to sue principal.= unless so provided for by statute, a promisor to a suretyship contract cannot compel a creditor to sue a principal when the debt secured is due, or claim his discharge for failure on the part of the creditor to comply with this request. a few states provide by statute that a promisor may by notice compel a creditor to sue a principal upon a suretyship obligation when due, or be discharged for his failure so to do. =196. surety companies.= at the present time, corporations are organized for the purpose of entering into suretyship obligations for profit. bonds of public officials as well as of private individuals, judicial bonds given in appeal of cases at law from one court to a higher court are commonly signed by surety companies. these companies, for an agreed annual consideration called a _premium_, sign as surety these bonds for responsible individuals. sureties were once said to be favorites of the law. this was for the reason that individual sureties signed private, official or judicial bonds as a favor to the principal, ordinarily without receiving any compensation therefore. when a liability arose the surety escaped if possible, since it was not his obligation, but another's which he was called upon to pay. the courts favored him and technical defenses were recognized which were not recognized as a defense by persons primarily liable. in the case of surety companies, however, there is no reason for this favoritism, since the surety engages in the contract for a consideration, and not as a favor to anyone. the tendency of the courts is to hold surety companies strictly to the terms of their contracts. =197. subrogation.= by _subrogation_ is meant the substitution of the promisor for the creditor in case the promisor to a suretyship obligation pays his principal's debt. for example, if _a_ signs a guaranty by the terms of which he agrees to pay _b's_ debt to _c_, when the debt is due if _b_ fails to pay it, and _a_ pays it, _a_ is placed in _c's_ position and may collect the debt from _b_. any securities of _b_ that _c_ held for the debt now belong to _a_. if _c_ has a judgment against _b_ for the debt, _a_ is subrogated to the judgment and may himself enforce it. =198. indemnity.= the law implies a contract on the part of the principal to a suretyship contract to pay the promisor when the latter pays the suretyship obligation. for example, if _a_ guarantees _b's_ debt to _c_, as soon as _a_ is obliged to pay _c_, and does pay _c_, _a_ may sue _b_ on an implied contract of indemnity for the amount he has paid _c_. =199. contribution.= _contribution_ is the term applied to the right of one of two or more co-promisors to a suretyship obligation to secure a _pro rata_ share from his co-promisors of the amount he is obliged to pay the creditor on a suretyship contract. for example, if _a_, _b_ and _c_ guarantee _d's_ debt of $150.00 to _e_, and when the debt is due, _e_ sues _a_ and collects $150.00 from him, _a_ can sue _b_ and _c_ for $50.00 each. if _a_ pays _c_ only $50.00 he can collect nothing from _b_ and _c_, since this is only his share of the debt. but if _a_ settles the debt with _c_ for $50.00, he can recover one third the amount from both _b_ and _c_. _a_ can pay the debt when it is due, without waiting for suit if he so desires, and proceed to collect one third the amount from both _b_ and _c_. personal property =200. personal property in general.= personal property is the term applied to property other than real estate. it may be either tangible or intangible. personal property is sometimes divided into _chattels real_ and _chattels personal_. chattels real are interests in real estate not amounting to ownership. real estate mortgages and leases are common examples of chattels real. chattels personal embrace all personal property other than chattels real. every thing subject to ownership not connected with the land is included in the classification of chattels personal. promissory notes, personal apparel, furniture, tools and animals are common examples. chattels personal are of a tangible, or of an intangible nature. they are mere rights, or they are things which may be handled and used. a promissory note, a contract, or a mortgage is a right as distinguished from a thing in possession. these rights are sometimes called _choses in action_, while tangible articles of personal property, such as watches, chairs and horses are called _choses in possession_. the law relating to personal property is discussed at length under the sections on _sales of personal property_, _pledges_, _chattel mortgages_, _carriers_ and _wills_. =201. acquisition of title and transfer of personal property.= title to personal property may be acquired in several ways, chief among them being by contract, by possession, by gift, and by operation of law. if _a_ purchases a carriage from _b_, the transaction is a sale of personal property and _a_ is entitled to possession of the carriage by reason of the contract. title to the carriage is given to _a_ by contract. title to some kinds of property is acquired by possession. title to wild animals is acquired by possession. the same is true of fish. title to lost property, except as against the owner, is acquired by possession. title to property is also acquired by voluntary gift on the part of the owner. if _a_ dies possessed of articles of personal property, the property passes to his personal representative to be turned into money to pay _a's_ debt, or to be distributed in the form of money, or without being sold, to _a's_ descendant designated by law. this is known as acquiring personal property by succession, or by operation of law. personal property may also be transferred in specie by will. sales =202. sale defined.= a transfer of title of personal property is termed a _sale_. by title is meant ownership. mere possession of personal property does not constitute ownership, neither does right to possession constitute ownership. one may lease personal property, and by means of the lease have the right to possession, while the title or ownership is in another. one may find or borrow personal property, obtaining possession while the title or ownership remains in another. the transfer of the title or ownership of personal property as distinguished from the transfer of mere possession or the right of possession, constitutes the subject of _sales_. a sale may be defined to be a contract by which the title to personal property is transferred for a consideration in money, or money's worth. this transfer of title to personal property may be entirely independent of the transfer of possession. one may make a sale of personal property by which the purchaser takes the title while the possession remains in the seller, or in some third person. when, and under what circumstances the title passes is an important question. a sale of personal property ordinarily gives the purchaser the right to immediate possession of the property. the time the title actually passes to the purchaser does not depend upon the time the property is delivered to the purchaser, but upon the intention of the parties to the contract of sale. a sale is a contract requiring all the elements of a simple contract. there must be a meeting of the minds of the contracting parties, a valuable consideration, competency of parties, etc. (see _elements of a contract_, chapter on contracts.) _203._ _sale distinguished from a contract to sell._ a sale is a contract by which the title passes to the purchaser at the time the sale is made. a contract to sell is a contract by which the title passes to the purchaser at a future time. a sale is a present transfer of title or ownership to personal property. a contract to sell is an agreement to pass the title or ownership to personal property to another at a future time. the practical distinction is in determining upon whom the loss falls in case the goods are destroyed or injured by fire, or other accident. in case of a sale, title or ownership passes to the purchaser, even though possession remains in the seller. if the goods are lost by fire, without fault of the seller, the purchaser bears the loss. in case of a contract to sell, the title or ownership does not pass to the purchaser until the time for fulfilling the contract has arrived, and until the conditions of the contract are fulfilled. if the goods are lost before the contract is carried out, the loss falls on the seller. for example, _a_, a farmer, sells ten barrels of apples to _b_. _b_ examines the apples, selects the ten barrels, pays _a_ the stipulated price, and says he will call for them the following day. before _b_ calls, the apples are destroyed by fire, without fault of _a_. _b_ must stand the loss. the title or ownership passed to him when the sale was made. if _b_ calls on _a_ and enters into a contract by the terms of which _a_ agrees to deliver at _b's_ residence ten barrels of apples the following day, at an agreed price, and the apples are destroyed by fire before _a_ delivers them, the loss falls on _a_. this is a contract to make a sale, not a sale. title to the apples does not pass to _b_ until they are delivered by _a_, according to the terms of the agreement. parties may agree that title may pass at a certain time, or upon the performance of a certain condition. in this event, title does not pass until the time mentioned arrives, or the condition is fulfilled. in the majority of sales of personal property, the parties do not set forth the terms and conditions fully. in the absence of an express agreement or custom to the contrary, parties are presumed to intend the title or ownership to pass to the purchaser at the time the sale is made. =204. sale distinguished from barter.= a sale is an agreement to transfer the title of personal property for a consideration in money, or for something measured by a money standard. an agreement to exchange goods, or an exchange of goods, is a _barter_, and not a sale. the distinction is technical, but serves some useful purposes. if _a_, for a consideration of $200.00, purchases a car of cabbage from _b_ in nashville, to be delivered in cleveland, june 20th, and the car does not arrive, _a_ may go into the nearest market, and purchase a car of cabbage of the same quality, and collect the difference between the market price and contract price from _b_. if _a_ is obliged to pay $250.00 for the cabbages, he can collect $50.00 from _b_. if, on the other hand, _a_ agrees to give _b_ a horse for a car of cabbages, no price having been fixed on the horse or on the cabbages, and _b_ fails, and refuses to carry out the contract, _a_ must sue _b_ on the contract, and collect as damages such amounts as he is able to show he lost by reason of _b's_ failure to carry out the contract. salesmen are commonly employed to sell goods. this means to sell for money, and unless they are expressly authorized to barter or exchange goods, attempted exchanges are without authority, and do not bind their principal. =205. conditional sales.= the term, _conditional sale_, has come to have a technical meaning. articles of merchandise, such as sewing machines, cream separators and cash registers are commonly sold under a special contract, by which possession is given the purchaser, and the title by express agreement remains in the seller until the entire purchase price is paid. the purpose of this form of contract is to obtain security for the purchase price of the article sold. in the absence of statutory regulations, if the purchaser does not pay the purchase price at the agreed time, the seller may take possession of the property. it is the custom of sellers using this form of contract to require the purchaser to sign a contract stipulating that the purchase price be represented by promissory notes of the purchaser, payable in installments, and that the title is to remain in the seller until the entire purchase price is paid. if the purchaser defaults in any one of his installments, by the terms of the contract all the remaining installments at once become due. this form of contract worked many hardships. purchasers were required to make a substantial payment in advance. if they succeeded in paying practically all the installments, but defaulted in one, the seller could take possession of the property, causing the purchaser to lose all he had paid. this form of contract proved so unconscionable in some of its workings that the legislatures of most states have passed statutes requiring conditional sale contracts to be filed with a public official to be enforceable, and do not permit the seller to take possession of property without repaying the purchaser the amount already paid less the actual damage the property has sustained. this damage usually cannot exceed 50% of the original selling price of the property. =206. sale distinguished from a bailment.= possession of personal property is frequently given another, for the purpose of having work performed on it, to be used by another, to secure a debt, or to be protected or preserved without transfer of title. such a transaction is called a _bailment_. it is discussed more at length under a separate chapter. a bailment does not constitute a sale, in that there is no transfer of title, or ownership of the personal property, possession of which is given to another. for example, _a_ hires the use of a horse and carriage from _b_, a liveryman, for two days. _a_ secures possession of the horse and carriage. he has the right to retain possession of them for two days, and has the right to use them for the purpose hired. he cannot sell them, however, nor can he do anything inconsistent with _b's_ ownership. this transaction is a bailment. =207. what may be the subject of a sale.= any article of personal property having a present existence may be sold. it matters not, whether it is a chose in possession, or chose in action. by _chose in possession_ is meant a tangible piece of personal property as distinguished from a mere right. a horse, plow, chair or desk is an example of a chose in possession. a promissory note, a contract or mortgage is an example of _chose in action_. either may be the subject of a sale. the distinction between a sale or present transfer of title to personal property, and a contract to make a sale, must be borne in mind. if _a_ sells his horse to _b_ for $100.00, in the absence of any agreement as to delivery the title to the horse passes to _b_ as soon as the contract is made. this transaction is a sale. if _a_ promises to sell his horse to _b_ the second of next month, if _b_ will agree to pay him $100.00 when the horse is delivered the second of next month, and _b_ so agrees, the contract is not a sale, but a contract to make a sale. articles of personal property, to be made or manufactured, are not the subject of a sale. business men commonly make contracts to sell goods in the future which they do not have in stock, but expect to manufacture, or purchase elsewhere. such contracts are not sales. the title to the goods does not, and cannot pass to the purchaser when the contract is made. they are mere agreements to make sales in the future. they are treated the same as ordinary contracts, not as present sales. if the goods are destroyed before they are completely manufactured, the seller stands the loss, since the title has not passed from him. if a person agrees to sell in the future goods to be manufactured, and fails to deliver the goods specified in the contract, the buyer has the usual remedy. he may purchase the goods in the market nearest the place of delivery at the time of delivery, and sue the seller for the difference between the contract price and the market price. the buyer is not obliged actually to purchase the goods to enable him to bring suit against the seller. he may bring a suit against the seller for the difference between the price he contracted to pay for the goods and the market price at the time and place of delivery. crops to be grown are not the subject of present sale. crops planted, but not matured, may be sold. title to the crops at the present stage of their existence passes to the buyer. =208. statute of frauds, or contracts of sale which must be in writing.= one section of the english statute of frauds applied to sales. this statute was passed in england about 1676. the seventeenth section, which applies to sales of personal property, is as follows: and be it further enacted by aforesaid authority, that from and after the four and twentieth day of june, no contract for the sale of any goods, wares or merchandise for the price of ten pounds sterling, or upwards, shall be allowed to be good except the buyer shall accept part of the goods so sold, and actually receive the same, or give something in earnest to bind the bargain, or in part payment, or that some note or memorandum in writing of said bargain be made, and signed by the parties to be charged by such contract, or their agent thereunto lawfully authorized. the states, generally, have a statute modelled after this section of the english statute, and providing that contracts for the sale of personal property, the price of which exceeds fifty dollars, shall not be enforceable unless a memorandum of the contract be made and signed, except there be a delivery of at least a part of the property, or except something be paid by the purchaser to bind the bargain. some of the states have no statute of frauds containing a provision relating to the price of the goods. in many of the states, the valuation fixed by statute exceeds fifty dollars. where the statute exists, contracts which are not in writing are not void. they are merely voidable. the parties may voluntarily carry them out if they so choose. the law does not prohibit them, but if one party refuses to recognize the contract, the other party cannot enforce it by an action at law. a portion of the fourth section of the english statute of frauds provides that contracts, by their terms not to be performed within one year from the time of the making thereof, must be in writing to be enforceable. the states, generally, have a similar statutory provision. this statute applies to sale of personalty as well as to real estate. if the contract can be performed within one year, it is not within the provisions of the statute. =209. delivery of personal property sold.= in the absence of any express agreement to the contrary, there is an implied agreement, on the part of the seller, to deliver personal property sold, when the purchaser pays the price. by delivery is meant placing the personal property at the disposal of the purchaser. it must be borne in mind that in a contract of sale of personal property, title or ownership passes to the purchaser at the time the sale is made, even though possession remains in the seller. this gives the seller the right to obtain possession of the goods upon paying the price. if the goods are destroyed without fault of the seller after the sale, and before delivery, the loss falls on the buyer. if _a_ offers to sell _b_ his wagon for $100.00, and _b_ accepts, nothing being said about delivery, the title to the wagon passes at once to _b_. if it is destroyed without fault of _a_, the loss falls on _b_, even though _b_ has not paid the price or received possession of the wagon. _b_ is entitled to possession of the wagon when he pays _a_ $100.00. _a_ is not obliged to give _b_ possession of the wagon, even though _b_ is the owner of it, until he receives the price, $100.00. in the above example there is no stipulation about delivery. the parties make a sale, agreeing upon the price and thing to be sold, nothing being said about the delivery. the law in such cases impliedly requires the seller to deliver when the price is paid, and not until then. in many contracts, however, the time, place, and manner of delivery are stipulated in the contract. sometimes usage and custom supply these things when the parties do not expressly so stipulate. when a time, place, or manner of delivery by the seller is stipulated in a contract, either by express agreement, or by usage and custom, title to the property usually does not pass to the buyer until the time has elapsed, and until the seller has delivered according to the manner stipulated, or has tendered delivery. a stipulation in a contract of sale that the seller shall deliver at a particular time or place, or in a particular manner is deemed to show an intention on the part of the parties that title shall not pass until the seller has so delivered. if the seller refuses to accept the goods or pay the price, an offer to deliver by the seller is equivalent to a delivery. the seller, on the other hand, is not obliged to give up possession of the goods until he receives the agreed price. if the seller agrees to give the buyer credit, this rule is not applicable. if no time of delivery is mentioned, delivery must be made within a reasonable time, depending upon the circumstances connected with the particular contract. when delivery is to be made in installments, failure to pay for one installment ordinarily entitles the seller to refuse to deliver the balance, or if the seller refuses, or fails to deliver the first installment, the buyer may refuse to accept subsequent installments. the buyer is not obliged to accept anything except the article ordered. if more or less is tendered him, he is not bound to accept. if he accepts more or less, he is bound to pay the reasonable value of the same. if no place of delivery is mentioned, the presumption is that delivery is to be made at the place where the property is located at the time the sale is made. the mere fact that delivery is to be made in the future does not prevent title from passing at the time the sale is made. there must be something in addition to the fact of future delivery to delay the passing of the title until the time of delivery. if _a_ purchases an automobile from _b_, making the selection, delivery to be made the following thursday, title passes at once to _a_. if the automobile is destroyed by fire, or injured without _b's_ fault, the loss falls on _a_. if, however, _b_ is to do anything with the property, or is himself to make delivery, this shows an intention on the part of the parties that title is not to pass until delivery is made. =210. when title passes.= the question of when title to personal property, the subject of a sale, passes to the purchaser is important in determining upon whom the loss falls, if the property is destroyed, stolen, lost or levied upon by judgment of attaching creditors. title or ownership to property sold does not depend upon possession. personal property may be sold, and title or ownership may pass to the purchaser, while the seller still has possession, as well as the right to possession. the general rule is that title or ownership of personal property sold passes to the purchaser at the time the parties to the sale intend it to pass. if their intention is expressed, it governs, and the question is settled. in the great majority of sales, however, the parties do not expressly determine when title shall pass and this must be presumed from the circumstances. for example, if _a_ offers _b_ $20.00 for a certain harness which is selected, and _a_ accepts the offer, nothing being said about the delivery or payment, or when title or ownership shall pass to _a_, the law presumes it to be the intention of the parties that title shall pass when _b_ accepts _a's_ offer--and from that time, the harness belongs to _a_. _b_, however, has the right to retain possession of the harness until _a_ pays him the purchase price of $20.00. when _a_ offers _b_ the $20.00 at the place where the harness was located when the sale was made, _b_ must give _a_ possession. _b_ is not obliged to deliver at any other place. if, however, _a_ offers _b_ $20.00 for _b's_ harness, which is determined upon and selected, _b_ to deliver same at _a's_ place of business the following evening, this shows an intention on the part of the parties that the title is not to pass to _a_ until _b_ delivers the property to _a_ the following evening. a tender or offer by _b_ to deliver the property to _a_ the following evening, passes title and places the property at _a's_ risk. if, however, delivery is to be made merely in the future, not requiring the seller to take the property to any particular place, the fact that delivery is to be made in the future does not prevent title passing to the purchaser at once. if _a_ purchases _b's_ harness for $20.00, the harness having been selected, delivery to be made in five days, title passes at once to _a_. [illustration: cook county building, chicago, ill. holabird & roche, architects, chicago, ill. building completed in 1907. cost, $5,000,000. length, 380 ft.; width, 160 ft.; height, 204 ft. eleven stories, with sub-basement connecting with tunnel system and electric railroad service underlying business portions of city. walls, gray vermont granite; spandrel sections, green terra-cotta. the corinthian columns on the exterior are 94 ft. long and 9 ft. in diameter. general interior plan is that of letter e. building contains its own electric-light and steam-heating plants. city hall, shown at left, is practically a duplicate of the old county building replaced by this new structure, and will itself be replaced by a similar building. photographed june, 1907, 17 months after excavation was started.] _a_ is obliged to offer _b_ $20.00 at the expiration of five days, and _b_ must give possession to _a_. if the article sold is to be prepared for delivery, or any work is to be performed on it by the seller before delivery, title does not pass until this work has been completed. if the goods are to be weighed or measured to determine the quantity or price, title does not pass to the purchaser until this has been done. probably, if the goods are determined upon, and the entire mass is sold and delivered to the seller who is to weigh or measure it to determine the quantity only, the title passes upon delivery. if the contract, sale provides that goods are to be delivered to a carrier, delivery to the carrier passes title to the purchaser. delivery to the carrier must be made so as to protect the interests and rights of the purchaser. the goods must be properly packed, and the proper kind of a bill of lading taken. if goods are sold upon approval, or upon trial, they must be approved or tried before title passes. if a portion of goods in mass or bulk is sold and the mass or bulk contains different qualities, the portion purchased must be separated and selected before the title passes. if a portion of goods in bulk is purchased, the bulk being of the same quality, separation of the portion sold is sufficient to pass title. some courts even hold that separation is not necessary to pass title, if the bulk is of the same quality. title to goods to be manufactured does not pass until the goods are manufactured and tendered. =211. when payment of price must be made.= parties to a contract of sale may expressly agree upon a time of payment of the article sold. in this event, the time agreed upon prevails. in the absence of an agreed time of payment, the law presumes that payment is to be made at the time and place of delivery. the seller may retain possession of goods sold, until he receives payment of the agreed price, even though title has passed to the purchaser. if the sale is made on credit, the purchaser cannot be required to pay until the time for which he was to be given credit has expired. in the absence of an agreed time for payment, payment must be made at the time of delivery of the goods. if the seller reserves any control over the goods, title remains in him. for example, if he is to ship the goods to another, and if he takes the bill of lading in his own name instead of the name of the purchaser, title remains in the seller. =212. effect of fraud upon a contract of sale.= fraud has been defined by a prominent author to be "a false representation of facts, made with a knowledge of its falsehood, or recklessly, without belief in its truth, with the intention that it should be acted upon by the complaining party, and actually inducing him to act upon it." if a party innocently makes a representation, even though it proves to be false, the representation is not fraudulent unless the party making the representation should have known, or could easily have discovered, its falsity. if _a_ endeavors to buy goods from _b_, and tells _b_ that he is worth $5,000.00, when in fact he is worth nothing, and _b_ relying upon _a's_ statement, sells the goods to _a_, _b_ is entitled to rescind the contract by reason of the fraud. he may sue and recover the price of the goods, or he may retake the goods from the buyer. (see _rescission_ under chapter on contracts.) if the goods have been sold to a third party who purchases for value and without notice of the fraud, the original seller cannot take the goods from him. a sale procured through fraud is voidable, and not void. the seller may avoid the sale if he chooses. that is, title vests in the purchaser subject to being retaken by the seller, if he chooses, when he discovers the fraud. if a third person innocently purchases the goods before the original seller rescinds the contract, the last purchaser's title cannot be disturbed. the seller may permit the purchaser to keep the goods, and bring an action for damages based upon deceit. one kind of a sale frequently induced by fraud is void, absolutely, and not voidable. if a person fraudulently induces another to believe that the purchaser is someone else, and purchases goods under this representation, no title passes from the seller, and he may recover the goods from an innocent purchaser. =213. rule of caveat emptor, or let the purchaser beware.= one who purchases chattel property from anyone except the grower or manufacturer of the article in question, which is inspected by the purchaser, or may be inspected by the purchaser, purchases at his own risk. if the article turns out to be of poor quality or worthless, in the absence of fraud or warranty, the purchaser has no redress. this rule is called the _rule of caveat emptor_, (let the purchaser beware). its purpose is to decrease litigation, and make men rely upon their own judgment. if a purchaser is unwilling to rely upon his own judgment, he must exact a warranty from the seller. in the absence of warranty or fraud, the purchaser must abide by the result of his purchase. if the article purchased has defects apparent to anyone upon inspection, the purchaser cannot complain. he should have seen the defects. if the defects are not apparent upon inspection, he must bear the loss. he should have required the seller to warrant the goods against latent defects, if he was unwilling to purchase on his own judgment. in all sales by an owner, however, title to the goods is impliedly warranted, and in case of sale of goods grown or manufactured by the seller, there is an implied warranty against latent defects. in all other sales, the purchaser buys at his own risk, and has no redress against the seller unless the latter warrants the goods. warranties are discussed in the following section. =214. express warranty.= contracts of sale often contain collateral agreements called _warranties_. warranties are either express or implied. an _express_ warranty is an agreement in addition to the ordinary agreement to transfer a certain chattel for a consideration in money or money's worth, by which the seller agrees that the thing sold is of a certain quality, or is in a certain condition. an express warranty is not an essential part of a contract of sale. that is, a sale containing no collateral promise to the effect that certain conditions or terms of the contract are warranted, may be made. if the contract of sale does not expressly state that the seller warrants certain terms or conditions, or does not contain words of similar meaning, the contract of sale is without express warranty. an express warranty, by express agreement, adds something to the contract of sale. this additional agreement, called an express warranty, enables the purchaser to recover damages from the seller for failure of the warranty, when he might not be able to have any redress if the sale were made without warranty. express warranties may be made orally, or in writing. if the seller, in making the sale expressly states that he warrants certain terms of the contract, or uses language which means that he intends to warrant certain terms of the contract, there is an express warranty. _a_ sells a wagon to _b_ and warrants that it will carry 6,000 lbs. of stone. if it fails to carry this amount, _b_ can recover from _a_ on this warranty. if _a_ had sold the wagon to _b_ without this stipulation, and it had failed to carry 6,000 lbs. of stone, _b_ would have no redress. a seller is permitted to express his opinion relative to the quality of the article which is the subject of the sale without making a warranty. this is called "trade talk," or "puffing." a seller is permitted to express his own opinion relative to the quality of goods he is endeavoring to sell, without having his words amount to a warranty, but if he makes positive assertions, his words will be construed as a warranty. such expressions as, _this is first class_, and _this is equal to any on the market_, are usually regarded as "trade talk" and not as warranties. =215. implied warranties.= some contracts of sale carry with them _implied warranties_. these warranties are common to all sales of the particular class in question. implied warranties cannot be said to be in addition to the contract of sale, but are impliedly a part of the contract. the most common implied warranties are warranties of title, warranties of wholesomeness in sale of food, warranties in sales by sample, warranties of merchantability, and warranties of fitness of goods to be used for a particular purpose. =216. implied warranty of title.= in every sale, in the absence of an express stipulation to the contrary, there is an implied warranty of title. this means that the ownership is in the seller, and that he has the right to sell the property, and that it is free from incumbrances. this, of course, does not prevent the seller from disposing of just what interest he has in the property if he expressly so contracts. for example, if _a_ negotiates the sale of a horse to _b_, and tells _b_ that he has purchased the horse a few days previously from _c_, and does not know whether there are any incumbrances on the horse, but will sell what interest he has, and if _b_ purchases on these representations, he cannot sue _a_ on an implied warranty of title if it subsequently develops that _d_ has a mortgage on the horse. if, however, _a_ offers to sell _b_ a horse, saying nothing about the matter of title, and _b_ purchases the horse, and later is obliged to yield possession to _c_, who holds a mortgage, _b_ may recover the purchase price of the horse from _a_ upon an implied warranty. formerly, a distinction was drawn between sales of property in the possession of the seller, and of property in the possession of some third person, making the seller not liable upon an implied warranty in the latter case. at present, however, the tendency of the courts is to make the seller liable upon an implied warranty, regardless of whether the property is in his possession, or in the possession of a third person at the time the sale is made. when a person sells chattel property, not as owner, but in an official capacity, or as an agent, there is no implied warranty of title. common examples of this principle are sales by a pledgee, mortgagee, sheriff, guardian, administrator, assignee, or trustee in bankruptcy. =217. implied warranty of wholesomeness in sales of food.= in the sale of articles to be used for food, there is an implied warranty that the article sold is wholesome and fit for the purpose which it is sold. this rule is based upon the principle of public policy, that it is the duty of the state to protect life and health. _a_, a grocer, sold canned tomatoes to _b_, for use in _b's_ family. the tomatoes contained poisonous adulteration. _a_ was held liable in damages to _b_, for breach of implied warranty of wholesomeness of the article sold for food. some jurisdictions hold that this rule does not apply in sales of food, where the article is not sold to a consumer. that is, if the article is sold by a wholesaler to a jobber, or to a retailer, the warranty does not apply, but where it is sold by anyone to a consumer, it does apply. =218. implied warranty in sales by sample.= when goods are not inspected by the buyer, but a sample is furnished him, from which he purchases, there is an implied warranty that the goods sold correspond with the sample. the fact that a sample of goods is exhibited by the seller and examined by a purchaser does not necessarily mean that a resulting sale is one by sample. the sample exhibited may not be claimed by the seller to represent in every respect the article to be furnished, or the purchaser may not desire to purchase according to the sample. to constitute a sale by sample, a sample must be exhibited by the seller upon a representation that it is a sample of the goods to be sold. if exhibited for any other purpose, the resulting sale will not be a sale by sample. the purchaser must make the purchase relying upon the sample, and with the understanding that the goods are to correspond with the sample. if the goods are present at the time the sale is made, and the purchaser inspects them, or has the opportunity to inspect them, in the absence of fraud, he cannot claim that the sale is by sample. =219. implied warranty of merchantability.= where goods which have not been inspected or selected by the purchaser are ordered to be delivered in the future, there is an implied warranty that they are of average quality. this is called an _implied warranty of merchantability_. _a_ ordered a "buckeye" mowing machine of _b_, to be delivered the following week. _b_ delivered a machine which would not cut grass. _b_ was held liable to _a_ upon an implied warranty of merchantability. if _a_ had inspected the machine, and made the purchase upon his own selection, in the absence of fraud on the part of _b_, _a_ would have no redress. but, in case the article is purchased without opportunity for inspection, to be manufactured or delivered in the future, there is an implied warranty that the article is an average one of its kind. =220. implied warranty of fitness of goods for the purpose for which they are to be used.= when a purchaser makes known to a seller the purpose for which the article is to be used, and the seller is himself the manufacturer or grower of the article, there is an implied warranty that the article is fit for the purpose for which it is to be used. this applies only to articles to be manufactured or delivered in the future, and not to articles inspected and selected by the purchaser. if _a_ goes to _b_, a manufacturer, and tells him he desires to have manufactured an instrument to hold liquid soap suitable for the use of workingmen in shops, and _b_ agrees to manufacture and sell such an article, there is an implied warranty on _b's_ part that the soap-holders will be suitable for the purpose for which they are to be used. if, however, _a_ furnishes _b_ plans for the manufacture of a liquid soap-holder, and orders a quantity, there is no implied warranty on _b's_ part that the articles will be fit for the purpose intended. _a_ in this case relied upon his own judgment. _b's_ contract is fulfilled when he furnishes the article according to _a's_ plans. the work must, of course, be done in a workmanlike manner, free from defects of material and workmanship. this implied warranty of fitness of an article for the purpose for which it is to be used, applies only where the purchaser reveals the purpose of the article to the grower or manufacturer who agrees to furnish such an article. it does not apply to articles furnished according to furnished plans, or to articles selected by the purchaser. =221. remedies for breach of warranty.= in case of breach of warranty, the purchaser may bring a suit for damages against the seller, or he may promptly return the goods, and recover the purchase price. the latter remedy is called _rescission_. in case of breach of an express warranty, in most jurisdictions the remedy is the same as for breach of implied warranty. in some states, however, the seller is not permitted to return the goods and sue for the purchase price, but is restricted to an action for damages. =222. seller's lien, delivery to carriers, and stoppage in transitu.= in case of sales for cash, the seller has the right to retain possession of the goods until he receives payment of the purchase price. if the goods are sold on credit, or if the seller agrees to deliver at a certain place, the seller must comply with his contract. but if the purchaser becomes insolvent before the goods are delivered, the seller may retain possession until paid. he is not obliged to deliver goods on credit, even though such is his contract, if the purchaser subsequently becomes insolvent. the right of a seller to retain possession of goods until the purchase price is paid is called _the seller's lien_. this lien is lost by the seller's delivery of the goods to the purchaser. if the possession is obtained by fraud on the part of the purchaser, it is regarded as no possession, and the seller may still enforce his lien by retaking possession of the property. where goods are ordered by a person in one town from a person in another town, necessitating delivery by a carrier, in the absence of express stipulation to the contrary, title to the goods passes to the vendee upon delivery of same by the vendor to the carrier. if _a_, in cleveland, orders a car of pine lumber from _b_, in milwaukee, for $1,500.00, title to the lumber passes to _a_ when _b_ delivers the lumber to the transportation company in milwaukee. if _a_ orders the lumber delivered f. o. b. cleveland, title does not pass to _a_ until the lumber reaches cleveland. if _a_ orders the lumber, agreeing to pay $1,500.00 for the same, "freight allowed" to cleveland, title passes to _a_ when _b_ delivers the lumber to the transportation company in milwaukee, even though _b_ must allow _a_ to deduct the freight from the purchase price of $1,500.00. this question is important in determining upon whom the loss falls in case of damage of the goods while in the hands of the transportation company. the one who has the title at the time the loss occurs must stand the loss. such party may recover from the transportation company. this question is discussed in the chapter on carriers. while a seller loses his lien by delivery of possession of the goods to the purchaser, if the goods are delivered to a carrier and the purchaser becomes insolvent before the carrier delivers the goods to him the seller may stop delivery of the goods, and retake possession even though title has passed to the purchaser. the seller's lien in this event revives. by _insolvency_ is meant inability to pay one's debts. the right of a seller to stop a carrier from delivering goods to a vendee, in case of insolvency of the latter, is called _stoppage in transitu_. this question is also discussed in the chapter on carriers. a seller may enforce his lien by keeping the goods, and suing the purchaser for damages, or by selling the goods at private or public sale, with notice to the purchaser of the time and place of sale, and then by suing the original purchaser for the difference between the amount he receives for the goods on resale, and the amount the original purchaser agreed to pay. the seller may, of course, hold the goods and demand the original purchase price of the purchaser, and not yield possession until he receives the purchase price. =223. remedies of seller.= the seller's lien described in the previous section is one of the remedies of a seller. if the purchaser refuses to accept the goods, the seller may keep or resell the goods, and if he receives less than the original purchaser agreed to pay, he may recover the difference as damages from the original purchaser. for example, _a_ agreed to manufacture and deliver a specially constructed cash register for _b_ for $500.00. when it was completed, _b_ refused to accept same. _a_ sold it for $200.00, the fair market price, and recovered from _b_, $300.00 as damages for _b's_ breach of contract. if the purchaser accepts the goods and fails to pay for them when due, the seller may sue and recover the entire purchase price, together with damages and expenses which are necessarily connected therewith. =224. remedies of purchaser.= where title has not passed to the purchaser, if the seller refuses or fails to deliver goods according to the contract of sale, the purchaser may go into the market at the time and place of delivery and purchase goods, and if obliged to pay more than the original contract price, he may recover the excess from the seller. for example, suppose _a_ purchases five hundred pounds of lard of _b_ for $60.00, _b_ agreeing to deliver the lard october 30th, at chicago. if _b_ fails to deliver the lard in chicago, october 30th, _a_ may purchase lard of the same quality in chicago, and if he is obliged to pay $90.00 for the same, he may recover $30.00 damages from _b_. if there is no market at the place of delivery mentioned in the contract, the purchaser may purchase at the nearest market. if the purchaser makes the purchase for a particular purpose, which he makes known to the seller at the time the sale is made, and he is specially damaged by reason of the failure of the seller to keep his contract, special damages may be recovered for losses arising by reason of the special circumstances. if title to the goods has passed to the purchaser, in case the seller refuses to deliver them, the purchaser may bring an action of _replevin_ to recover their possession. replevin is a possessory action. (see chapter on courts and legal remedies.) quiz questions banking, loans, money, and credits 1. define a _bank_. 2. classify banks. 3. how are national banks created? 4. what are state banks? 5. define and distinguish _banks of discount_, _banks of cirrculation_, and _banks of deposit_. 6. are most banks incorporated companies? 7. what are the powers of an incorporated bank? 8. do banks have the power to deal in real estate? 9. do banks have the power to collect commercial paper? 10. what are _bank deposits_? 11. is a bank required to receive deposits from any one who tenders them? 12. what name is applied to the person authorized to receive bank deposits? 13. do savings banks permit their customers to draw their deposits by check? 14. distinguish _general_ and _special deposits_. 15. define _check_. 16. what kinds of banks do a checking business? 17. by what process may a depositor withdraw money from a savings bank? 18. define a _paid voucher_. 19. when do banks return checks to their customers? 20. when are checks payable? 21. what should a customer do with paid checks when they are received from his bank? 22. when must checks be presented for payment? 23. is a bank required to pay the checks of its depositors? 24. if a bank refuses to pay a check what, if anything, must the holder do to hold the maker liable? 25. are national banks permitted to make loans on real estate? 26. are savings banks permitted to make loans on real estate? 27. define _credit_. 28. by what means is credit information furnished? 29. distinguish _credit_ and _capital_. 30. are forged negotiable instruments void or voidable? 31. is a bank liable for paying forged checks, or must the depositor whose signature is forged stand the loss? 32. if a forgery is not reported by a depositor until six months after it was committed, who must stand the loss? 33. is a bank liable if it pays a _bona fide_ holder a check payable to bearer? 34. under what laws are national banks created? 35. does the united states constitution expressly provide for the creation of national banks? 36. what united states officer has supervision over national banks? 37. are national banks furnished with circulating notes? if so, in what amounts? 38. in case of the bank's insolvency, what is the liability of national bank stockholders? 39. what rate of interest can national banks charge? 40. can national banks buy and sell bonds? 41. what penalty is imposed upon national banks for usury? 42. define and distinguish _savings banks_ and _trust companies_. 43. are clearing houses banks? what are the functions of clearing houses? 44. in what two ways is the term _money_ used? 45. what is _legal tender_? 46. are silver certificates legal tender? 47. define _discount_. 48. distinguish _discount_ and _purchase of negotiable paper_. 49. are banks permitted to purchase negotiable paper at a profit in excess of legal rates of interest? 50. are individuals and business concerns permitted to purchase negotiable paper at a profit in excess of legal rates of interest. 51. define _exchange_. 52. distinguish _foreign_ and _domestic exchange_. 53. define _interest_. 54. define and give an example of _usury_. 55. what is the usual penalty for usury? insurance 1. define _insurance_. 2. are insurance companies controlled by the legislatures of the states? 3. may an individual or a partnership enter into insurance contracts? 4. is insurance business interstate commerce if transacted between citizens of different states? 5. may one state exclude insurance companies of another state from transacting business within its territory? 6. does an insurance contract require all the elements of an ordinary contract? 7. in what way does an insurance contract differ from an ordinary contract? 8. how many parties are there to an insurance contract? 9. define _underwriters_. 10. define _beneficiary_. 11. name the principal kinds of insurance written at the present time. 12. define and give an example of _insurable interest_. 13. must an insurance contract be in writing to be binding? 14. are insurance contracts within the statute of frauds? 15. define _binder_. 16. define _warranty_ as used in an insurance contract. 17. distinguish warranty as used in insurance contracts from warranty as used in contracts of sale. 18. define _representation_ as used in connection with insurance contracts. 19. distinguish _warranty_ and _representations_. 20. does breach of warranty avoid a contract of insurance? 21. does breach of representation discharge an insurance contract? 22. define _life policy_. 23. define _term policy_. 24. define _tontine policy_. 25. define _marine insurance_. 26. what implied warranty enters into a policy for marine insurance? 27. define _general average_. 28. define _standard policy_. 29. if a policy of insurance contains no stipulation relative to suicide, and the insured takes the policy intending to commit suicide, and does commit suicide, is the policy enforceable? 30. if an insurance policy contains a suicide clause, and the insured commits suicide while insane, is the policy enforceable? 31. may an insurance company stipulate against suicide in such a manner as to avoid the policy if the insured suicides when insane? 32. define and distinguish _fidelity_ and _casualty insurance_. 33. what is _re-insurance_? 34. is a company writing a policy of re-insurance liable to the party originally insured? 35. may a company re-insure at greater risk than it itself has insured? 36. can a fire insurance policy be assigned before a loss has occurred? 37. can a fire insurance policy be assigned after a loss has occurred? 38. can a life insurance policy be assigned at any time? 39. define and distinguish _open_ and _valued policies_. 40. define _other insurance_. 41. what limit, if any, is placed upon the amount of life insurance a person may take? 42. may a person insure personal property for more than its actual value? 43. if a person insures his house in three different companies for two-thirds of its value in each company, in case of loss how much an he recover, if anything, on each policy? suretyship 1. define _suretyship_. 2. is a suretyship obligation a contract? 3. what contracts is the term _suretyship_ used to designate? 4. how many parties are there to a suretyship contract? 5. define _principal_. 6. give an example of a suretyship contract. 7. define _promisor_. 8. define _creditor_ to a suretyship contract. 9. give the different technical names that may be applied to a promisor of a suretyship contract depending upon the nature of the liability. 10. define _surety_. 11. give an example of a contract of a surety. 12. is the liability of a surety conditional upon that of his principal. 13. define _guarantor_. 14. _a_ promises a creditor of _b_ to pay _b's_ debt if _b_ does not. is _a's_ contract that of a surety or of a guarantor? 15. in commercial practice what form of suretyship contract is most frequently used, that of a surety or of a guarantor? 16. define _indorser_. 17. is an indorser's contract found outside of negotiable instruments? 18. is an indorser bound by any implied contract? 19. what are the warranties of an indorser? 20. is consideration a necessary element of a contract of suretyship? 21. if a suretyship contract is part of the transaction which it secures must it be supported by a separate consideration? 22. must any contracts of suretyship be in writing? 23. is an oral contract of suretyship illegal? 24. what is meant by the statute of frauds as applied to suretyship contracts? 25. define _general guaranty_. 26. define _limited guaranty_. 27. define _special guaranty_. 28. define _continuing guaranty_. 29. what kinds of notice may a guarantor be entitled to? 30. when, if at all, is a guarantor entitled to notice of default of his principal? 31. when, if at all, is a guarantor entitled to notice of acceptance of his guaranty by a creditor? 32. if _a_ is surety for _b_ upon _b's_ debt to _c_ of $100.00 and _b_ settles his debt with _c_ for $50.00, can _c_ hold _a_ for the balance? 33. if _a_ guarantees _b's_ debt to _c_ of $100.00 due one year and with interest at 6%, and _b_ without _a's_ consent reduces the interest to 5%, is _a_ thereby discharged? 34. if _a_ guarantees _b's_ debt to _c_ of $100.00 payable in one year, and _c_ without _a's_ consent extends the time of payment six months upon _b's_ agreement to pay 6% interest, is _a_ thereby discharged? 35. is fraud practiced by the principal upon the promisor to a suretyship contract, a defense to the promisor in an action brought by the creditor? 36. in the absence of special statute can a promisor to a suretyship contract compel by notice a creditor to sue a principal? 37. are surety companies favorites of the law? 38. define _subrogation_. 39. give an example of _subrogation_. 40. define _indemnity_ as applied to a suretyship contract. 41. _a_ guarantees _b's_ debt to _c_ of $100.00 upon a promissory note. _b_ defaults and _a_ pays the debt. _a_ then sues _b_ for $100.00 upon the promissory note. is this an example of indemnity or subrogation? may _a_ sue _b_ for $100.00 independently of the promissory note? 42. define _contribution_. 43. _a_, _b_, and _c_ guarantee _b's_ debt to _e_ of $300.00. _d_ sues _a_ and collects $100.00. can _a_ sue _b_ and _c_ for $33.33 each? personal property 1. define _personal property_. 2. classify personal property. 3. distinguish _chattels real_ from _chattels personal_. 4. define and give an example of _chose in action_. 5. define and give an example of _chose in possession_. 6. how may title to personal property be acquired? 7. may a person obtain title to personal property by finding it? 8. how can personal property be transferred? 9. upon death of the owner, to whom does title to personal property pass? sales 1. distinguish ownership and possession of personal property. 2. may title and possession of personal property be in different places? 3. define _sale_. 4. how does a sale differ from a contract to sell? 5. _a_ promises to deliver a car of coal to _b_ the following month in consideration of _b's_ promise to pay _a_ $300.00 upon delivery of the coal. is the transaction a sale or a contract to sell? 6. in a contract to sell, if the property is destroyed by fire before the property is delivered, who stands the loss? 7. distinguish _barter_ from _sale_. 8. _a_ agrees to deliver to _b_ one hundred bushels of apples for twenty tons of coal at $5.00 per ton. is the transaction a _sale_ or a _barter_? 9. define _conditional sale_. 10. at the present time is a vendor of a conditional sale contract permitted to take possession of the property after 90% of the purchase price has been paid. 11. _a_ leaves his automobile at _b's_ shop for repairs. is this transaction a sale? 12. distinguish _sale_ from _bailment_. 13. what kinds of personal property may be the subject of a sale? 14. may personal property to be manufactured be the subject of a present sale? 15. what is meant by the statute of frauds as applied to sales? 16. what contracts of sales must be in writing? 17. when must personal property sold be delivered? 18. in the absence of any express agreement as to delivery, when and by whom must personal property be delivered? 19. if a sale is made in which delivery is to be made in the future may title pass to the purchaser at once? 20. when does title pass to the purchaser in a sale of personal property? 21. does the fact that delivery is to be made in the future, of itself, prevent title passing to the purchaser at the time the sale is made? 22. _a_ sells a desk to _b_ for $10.00, agreeing to revarnish the desk and deliver same to _b_ the following saturday. when does title to the desk pass to _b_? 23. what, if anything, does intention of the parties have to do with the passing of title to the purchaser? 24. in the absence of an express agreement when must the purchase price be paid? 25. is the seller permitted to retain possession of the property sold until he receives the purchase price? 26. _b_, by means of fraud, purchases a bicycle from _a_. _b_ sells it to _c_, who does not know of the fraud. can _a_ recover the bicycle from _c_? 27. _a_ purchases a bicycle from _b_ telling _b_ that he is _c_. _b_ knows _c_ by reputation and thinks that he is selling to _c_. _a_ sells the bicycle to _d_. can _b_ obtain possession of the bicycle from _d_? 28. define _caveat emptor_. 29. does the rule of _caveat emptor_ apply if the seller expressly warrants the goods sold? 30. define _express warranty_. 31. _a_ sells a horse to _b_ assuring _b_ that the horse is perfectly sound. the horse has blemishes. does _a_ warrant the horse? 32. define _implied warranty_. 33. enumerate the most common implied warranties. 34. does an implied warranty of title accompany every sale? 35. _a_ purchases an automobile at a sheriff's sale. the automobile is mortgaged. may the mortgagee take the auto from _a_? if so, can _a_ recover on an implied warranty from the sheriff? 36. what is meant by _implied warranty of wholesomeness of food_? 37. does this warranty extend to any purchaser? 38. give an example of an implied warranty in a sale by sample. 39. does the implied warranty of merchantability apply when the goods are selected and inspected by the purchaser? 40. give an example of a sale in which there is an implied warranty of fitness for the purpose for which the goods are to be used. 41. does this implied warranty exist if the goods are constructed and furnished according to a model furnished by the buyer? 42. define _rescission of a contract_. 43. may a contract of sale be rescinded for breach of warranty? 44. generally, what is a purchaser's remedy for breach of warranty? 45. define _lien_. 46. give an example of seller's lien. 47. define _stoppage in transitu_. 48. _a_, in cleveland, orders goods of _b_ in chicago. _b_ delivers the goods to the adams express company, addressed to _a_. the goods are lost in a railway wreck. who must bear the loss, _a_ or _b_? 49. _a_ sells a carriage to _b_. _b_ refuses to pay for the same. if _a_ has not delivered the carriage to _b_ may he sue _b_ for damages? 50. _a_ purchases a carriage from _b_. _a_ tenders the price, but _b_ refuses to deliver the carriage. may _a_ obtain possession of the carriage by legal action? 51. may _a_ sue _b_ for damages for refusing to deliver the carriage? [illustration: a corner in the new york executive office of the western electric company occupying a part of one floor of the marshall field building] commercial law part iv bailments =225. bailment defined.= a _bailment_ has been defined to be "a delivery of goods for the execution of a special object, beneficial to the bailor, the bailee or both, upon a contract express or implied, to carry out this object, and dispose of the property in conformity with the purpose of the trust." it is the giving possession of personal property to another for the purpose of having the property cared for, improved or used, with the understanding that when the purpose of the delivery is fulfilled, the property shall be returned to the bailor or disposed of according to his directions. a bailment differs from a sale in that the title to the property remains in the bailor, and possession is given the bailee, while in a sale, the title or ownership of the property is transferred to the purchaser, while possession may remain in the seller. bailment is a broad subject covering many transactions. loans, pledges, and deliveries of property of every nature, in which mere possession is given another without transfer of title are included. if _a_ leaves his watch with _b_, a jeweler, for repairs, the transaction is a bailment. if _a_ delivers property to _b_, a transportation company, to be conveyed to _c_, the transaction is a bailment. if _a_ loans his knife to _b_, the transaction is a bailment. =226. parties to a bailment contract.= there are two parties to a bailment contract. the one who gives possession of chattel property to another, reserving title to himself, is called the _bailor_, and the one who receives possession of the property under these conditions is called the _bailee_. a bailment is a contract. parties to a bailment must be competent to contract. (see _competency of parties_, chapter on contracts.) parties under legal age may avoid contracts of bailment. if _a_, fifteen years of age, hires a horse from _b_, a liveryman, for one hour for $2.00, _b_ cannot compel _a_ to carry out his contract if _a_ objects on the ground of infancy. but if _a_ injures the horse he is liable in damages to _b_. an infant is liable for his torts, but not for his contracts. =227. classification of bailments.= bailments are usually divided into three classes; bailments for the sole benefit of the bailor, bailments for the sole benefit of the bailee, and bailments for the benefit of both the bailor and bailee. a common example of a bailment for the sole benefit of the bailor is a delivery of property to the bailee, to be kept by the bailee gratuitously for the accommodation of the bailor, or delivery of property to the bailee to have work performed on it, without compensation to the bailee. examples of bailments for the sole benefit of the bailee are loans to the bailee without compensation to the bailor. bailments for the mutual benefit of bailor and bailee include deliveries of property to carriers, pledges, renting property, or hiring the bailee to perform work on the property bailed, or hiring the bailee to care for the property. =228. elements of a contract of bailment.= it is sometimes said that a bailment for the sole benefit of the bailor is not a contract by reason of there being no consideration. a consideration may consist of any benefit to the party making a promise, or any detriment to the one to whom the promise is made. the giving up of the property bailed to the bailee is considered a detriment to the bailor, even though the bailee receives no benefit. for a transaction to constitute a bailment, there must be a delivery of the property bailed to the bailee, and an acceptance by him of the property. this delivery may be actual or constructive, as by delivery of a warehouse receipt, or a bill of lading. the delivery must be sufficient to enable the bailee to secure the possession of the goods, and to control the possession during the period to be covered by the bailment, to the exclusion of the bailor. the property must be in existence to be bailed. a contract of bailment need not be express; it may be implied as well--a thief or a finder of property is a bailee for the true owner. =229. title to property bailed.= the title to property bailed does not pass to the bailee. mere possession passes to the bailee. it is not necessary that the bailor have title to the property to bail it. if he has right of possession he may, under certain circumstances, bail it. _a_ may rent a livery stable, including horses and carriages, of _b_, for three years, with the understanding that he will operate the business in the usual way. _a_ does not have title to the horses and carriages, but he may hire them to _c_, or to anyone he chooses. this transaction with _c_ constitutes a bailment, in which the bailor does not have title to the property bailed. he has, however, sufficient right of possession to enter into a bailment contract. the principal distinction between a bailment and a sale of personal property is that, in the latter case, title passes to the purchaser regardless of change of possession of the property, while in the case of a bailment, possession of the property must pass to the bailee, while title is not disturbed. =230. bailments for the sole benefit of the bailor.= where personal property is deposited with another for safe keeping, or for the purpose of having work performed on it, without compensation to the bailee, the transaction is called a bailment for the sole benefit of the bailor. the liability of a bailor for the loss or injury of property intrusted to his care, depends upon the nature of the property itself, and upon whether the bailee receives compensation for his services. three degrees of care and negligence, respectively, are recognized in bailments; slight, ordinary and great care, and gross, ordinary and slight negligence. what constitutes ordinary care or negligence is determined by considering what a man of ordinary prudence would do under the circumstances in question. any case of negligence above or below this standard constitutes great care or gross negligence. if _a_, in going to lunch, leaves his umbrella in _b's_ office, and the umbrella is stolen, _b_ is not liable to _a_, if he exercised slight care. if _a_, a lawyer, is obliged to go to police court to try a criminal case, and leaves his diamond pin with _b_, a brother attorney, _b_ is obliged to exercise only slight care, as in the case of the umbrella, and is liable only for gross negligence. but slight care means a much greater degree of care in case of the diamond pin than in the case of the umbrella. in case of a bailment for the sole benefit of the bailor, the bailee is obliged to exercise only slight care, and is liable only for gross negligence. he receives no compensation for the service, and for this reason is not obliged to exercise a great degree of care. property cared for gratuitously for the accommodation of the bailor, or to be carried to some place, or to have something done to it gratuitously, constitutes this class of bailments. =231. bailments for sole benefit of bailee.= property loaned to a bailee for the latter's accommodation constitutes a bailment for the sole benefit of the bailee. _a_ borrows _b's_ horse to drive to _y_. _a_ pays _b_ nothing for the use of the horse. _a_ must exercise great care in the use of the horse, and is liable to _b_ for slight negligence. it is no defense, in case the horse is injured while in _a's_ possession, that _a_ acted as an ordinarily prudent man would act under the circumstances. he must act as an ordinarily prudent man would act when exercising great care. if, from the circumstances connected with the injury to the horse, it is determined that an ordinarily prudent man would have been guilty of slight negligence in the method of handling the horse or causing the injury, _a_ is liable to _b_ for the injury to the horse. a court said on this point, "a bailee who is a borrower must use extraordinary care to protect the property loaned to him, and is responsible for the slightest neglect. he must exercise all the care and diligence that most careful persons exercise in the transaction of their own affairs." if the bailee uses the property for any purpose other than that for which it was bailed, or if he exceeds the authority of the bailor in the use of the property, he is liable for injuries resulting. for example, _a_ borrowed _b's_ oxen to plow up a hedge. _a_ used the oxen to draw a load of stone. a stone rolled off the cart and injured one of the oxen. _a_ was held liable for the injury. =232. bailments for benefit of both bailor and bailee.= the majority of bailments are for the benefit of both bailor and bailee. this class of bailments includes the hiring of personal property. _a_ rents _b's_ automobile for three hours, at three dollars an hour. this is an example of this class of bailments. this class also includes pledges or pawns of goods. if _a_ pledges ten shares of stock in a corporation to his bank for a loan, this transaction constitutes this form of bailment. this also includes the hiring of a bailee to carry goods from one place to another. the most common example of this class of bailments is that of common carriers. for example, _a_ employs _b_, an express company, to carry a package of jewelry from cleveland to chicago. the bailment is for the mutual benefit of both _a_ and _b_. any case in which one party employs another to carry goods from one place to another for compensation is included in this class of bailments, and is discussed more at length in the chapter on common carriers. hiring a person to care for personal property for compensation is included in the class of mutual benefit bailments. a traveling salesman leaving his trunk and satchel with a hotel-keeper is a common example. where one person hires another to perform work or services on the thing bailed, the transaction constitutes a mutual benefit bailment. for example, if _a_ leaves his overcoat with _b_, his tailor, to be cleaned and pressed, the transaction constitutes this form of bailment. in mutual benefit bailments the bailee has the right to use the property bailed only for the purposes of the bailment. if _a_ rents _b's_ automobile, he is entitled to use it during the period covered by the contract. if he rents it for a particular designated trip, he cannot use it for any other trip. in a mutual benefit bailment, when the bailee hires out the use of a chattel, there is an implied contract on his part that the chattel is fit for the purpose for which it is to be used, and that it may safely be used for such purposes. _a_ rents _b's_ naphtha launch for the purpose of taking a lake ride. _b_ has carelessly supplied the wrong fuel. an explosion results, injuring _a_. _b_ is liable for the injury. in mutual benefit bailments, the bailee is obliged to exercise ordinary care, and is liable for ordinary negligence. the bailee must act as an ordinarily prudent man would act under the same conditions in protecting and caring for the property. _a_ rents a typewriter of _b_. if the typewriter breaks or gets out of order during ordinary usage, _b_ must stand the loss. if the parties to a bailment of this class specifically contract as to who shall bear the loss in case of accident, or as to the degree of care which shall be exercised, these express stipulations prevail. =233. warehousemen and storage companies.= a person who keeps a place for the storage of goods for a compensation is a warehouseman or storage-keeper. in a few states, public warehouses are provided for by statute. in these states, the statutes define the duties and liabilities of warehousemen. these public warehousemen are generally required to take all goods offered for storage, no matter who the owner may be, if the goods are in condition to be stored and if the storage charges are tendered. most warehouses operate their business as private enterprises. a few states provide by statute for public warehouses. private warehousemen may select their customers. they are not required to accept goods for storage if they do not so desire. the government provides warehouses for the storage of goods upon which customs or duties are to be paid. these warehouses are private enterprises authorized by the government to act as government warehouses. the government requires a bond of these warehousemen for the protection of itself, but the government is in no way responsible for the warehouseman's treatment of the goods, or for breaches of contracts between the warehousemen and their customers. warehousemen commonly issue receipts for goods stored with them. these warehouse receipts ordinarily are made payable to the customer's order, and may be negotiated. they are not generally recognized as negotiable instruments. a few states have statutes making them negotiable instruments, but outside these jurisdictions, warehouse receipts are merely evidences of ownership of the property. the purchaser takes the same right to the property which the original bailor had, with the additional right to sue the transferor if the title proves defective. a warehouseman has a lien on the property for his charges. the warehouseman or storage-keeper must exercise ordinary care in the protection of the property. the bailor must reveal to the bailee the character of the goods stored. if the goods are of a dangerous character and injury results, the bailor is responsible to the bailee for damages, if he has failed to reveal the dangerous character of the goods. =234. degree of care required of bailee.= a bailee of property is required to exercise a certain degree of care in the use, preservation and protection of the property placed in his possession, and is liable for a certain degree of negligence. the amount of care a bailee is obliged to exercise, and the amount of negligence for which he is liable, depends upon the kind of property bailed, and whether the bailment is for the sole benefit of the bailor, the bailee, or for the mutual benefit of both the bailor and the bailee. if the property bailed is of great value, or so delicate that it is easily lost, destroyed or injured, a greater degree of care is required on the part of the bailee than if the property is of little value, or is of such a nature that it is not easily damaged, lost or destroyed. if _a_, with _b's_ permission, stores his wagon in _b's_ barn, and the wagon is stolen, _b_ is not liable unless he was grossly negligent. he was not paid for the bailment, and was obliged to exercise only slight care in the protection of the wagon. if, however, _a_ leaves his watch with _b_ while he attends a ball game, and the watch is stolen, _b_ must have exercised greater care than in the case of the wagon by reason of the value and nature of the property bailed. otherwise, he will be liable. in this case as well as in the case of the wagon, _b_ received no compensation for the bailment, and is obliged to exercise only slight care in the protection of the property bailed, and is liable only for gross negligence. what constitutes slight care and gross negligence differs materially in the case of the wagon and in the case of the watch. in connection with bailments, care is said to have three degrees, _great_, _ordinary_ and _slight_. negligence is also said to have three degrees, _gross_, _ordinary_ and _slight_. ordinary care or negligence is the standard for testing each case. after ordinary care or negligence is determined, slight or great care, and slight or gross negligence is determined by ascertaining whether the care or negligence is above or below ordinary. any care greater than ordinary is great care; any care less than ordinary is slight care. any negligence greater than ordinary is gross negligence. any negligence less than ordinary is slight negligence. if a person takes such precautions in the use, preservation, and protection of the property as an ordinarily prudent person would take of his own property under similar circumstances, he is said to exercise ordinary care. the degree of care required of a bailee depends upon the kind of a bailment in question, as well as upon the kinds of property bailed. if the bailment is for the sole benefit of the bailor, the bailee receiving no compensation for his inconvenience and work, he is required to exercise only slight care, and is liable only for gross negligence. if the bailment is for the sole benefit of the bailee, the bailor receiving no compensation for his inconvenience and the loss of the use of his property, the bailee is required to exercise great care in the use and preservation of the property, and is liable for slight negligence. in case of mutual benefit bailments, the bailee is obliged to exercise ordinary care in the use and protection of the property, and is liable for ordinary negligence. two classes of mutual benefit bailees, innkeepers and common carriers, do not come within the above rule. these are known as _exceptional mutual benefit bailments_, and are discussed under separate chapters. =235. rights of bailee as against bailor.= a bailee has the right to keep the property, to use it according to the terms of the contract of bailment, and to defend this right even against the bailor himself. while the title to the property in question remains in the bailor, the right of possession during the period covered by the contract of bailment is in the bailee. he may retain possession of the property for the purpose of the bailment. a bailee is entitled to use the property bailed, and is restricted only by the limitations of the contract. if the bailee uses this property in a way not authorized by the contract of bailment, he is liable in damages to the bailee. where a mutual benefit bailment requires the bailee to use skill in connection with the property bailed, the bailor must exercise a degree of skill ordinarily used by persons who perform similar work. if the bailee fails to use this degree of skill, he is liable in damages to the bailor. for example, if _a_ leaves his horse with _b_, a blacksmith, to be shod, and _b_ attempts the work, but performs it so unskillfully, or carelessly that the horse is injured or lamed thereby, _b_ is liable to _a_ for the damage caused. =236. rights of bailee as against third persons.= a bailee has the right to keep the property bailed as against third persons who endeavor to interfere with his possession. the bailee is not permitted to dispute the title of the bailor for his own benefit. if, however, the property is taken away from the bailee by action at law, by one whose title is superior to that of the bailor, the bailee is relieved from liability to the bailor. in this event, the one who has the paramount title coupled with the right of immediate possession, may take the property from the bailee. if the bailee yields possession to one whose right of possession and title are inferior to the bailor's, the bailee is answerable to the bailor for any losses sustained. the bailee cannot confer good title upon anyone to whom he attempts to sell the property bailed, even though the purchaser buys without notice of the bailment. anyone who injures the property while it is in the possession of the bailee is responsible either to the bailor or bailee for the damages. =237. lien of bailee.= a bailee who has performed work on the article bailed, for which he is to be paid a consideration, is said to have a _lien_ for the value of the work performed, or materials furnished. by a lien is meant the right of the bailee to retain possession until the value of his labor or material has been received. at common law, a livery stable keeper had no lien upon horses fed and cared for. by statute in most states, livery stable keepers now have a lien upon horses left with them. if a bailee is employed to perform work or labor upon personal property, and the property is destroyed without fault of the bailee after part of the work has been performed, the bailee may recover for the amount of work performed and materials furnished, unless the contract of bailment is to the effect that the entire job is to be completed before any payment is made. a bailee loses his lien by parting with possession of the property. at common law, a bailee could not sell the property to enforce his lien. by statute in most states, the bailee is permitted to sell the property, by giving notice of the time and place of sale to the bailor, or by foreclosing his lien by a legal action. pledges =238. pledge defined.= a _pledge_ is one form of a mutual benefit bailment. it is a deposit of personal property by a debtor with a creditor as security for a debt, the title to the property remaining in the debtor until the property is disposed of by the creditor in accordance with the express or implied agreement of pledge. a pledge differs from a chattel mortgage in that possession of personal property is given a creditor for the purpose of securing a debt, the title remaining in the debtor. in case of a chattel mortgage, the title to the personal property passes to the mortgagee, who is the creditor, subject to revesting in the mortgagor, who is the debtor, in case of payment of the mortgage debt. in a chattel mortgage, possession of the property generally remains in the debtor. _a_ owes _b_ $100.00. he gives _b_ possession of a diamond ring as security for the debt. if _a_ does not pay the $100.00 when due, _b_ may retain possession of the ring until he receives $100.00 from _a_, or he may sell the ring at public sale, advising _a_ of the time and place of sale. if the ring sells for more than $100.00, _b_ must pay _a_ the excess of $100.00. pledges form an important part of present day business. pledges of bonds, stocks and negotiable paper are common in transactions with banks. banks commonly make loans, taking a promissory note secured by a pledge of stocks, bonds, negotiable instruments, or other personal property. their loans are commonly called loans on _collateral_ or loans on _collateral security_. =239. parties to a pledge.= a pledge of chattel property is a contract express or implied. the party giving the property as security to his creditors is called the _pledgor_, the party receiving the property is called the _pledgee_. like any contract, it requires competent parties. (see _competency of parties_, chapter on contracts.) a person mentally insufficient, intoxicated, or an infant, is not competent to make a contract. an infant's contracts of pledge, like any of its contracts are voidable, but not void. the infant may carry out the contract if he chooses. an infant's contracts are not illegal. they cannot be enforced against an infant, however, if he objects by reason of infancy. a competent party, contracting with an infant, cannot void his contract on the ground of infancy of the other contracting party. most contracts of pledge are implied. if _a_ owes _b_ $10.00 and gives _b_ his watch as security, _b_ impliedly has the right to retain possession of the watch until _a_ pays him $10.00. _b_ also has the right after _a_ fails to pay him the $10.00 when due, to sell the watch at public auction, and apply as much of the proceeds as is necessary to the payment of his debt. in most pledges of importance where securities are pledged, the contract of pledge is reduced to writing, and a stipulation is made giving the pledgee the right to sell the property at public or private sale without notice to the pledger, and permitting the pledgee himself to be a purchaser at the sale. no matter what the contract of pledge provides, the sale should be public, notice of which should be advertised, and notice of the time and place should be given the pledgor. =240. personal property which may be pledged.= any kind of personal property which is the subject of transfer may be pledged. this includes personal property having a tangible existence, as well as that which is intangible. that is, choses in action as well as choses in possession may be pledged. a promissory note, a certificate of stock, or a bond which is an evidence of something tangible or the right to obtain something tangible, is the subject of a pledge, as well as furniture, jewelry and other tangible personal property. property which has no active or potential existence is not the subject of a pledge. a person cannot pledge a horse which he expects to purchase, or a crop which he expects to grow on the land of another. a person may, however, pledge a growing crop. =241. the debt secured.= a pledge or delivery of personal property is for the purpose of securing a debt owing the pledgee. the existence of a debt is one of the essential elements to a valid pledge. a delivery of personal property to another in the absence of a debt may constitute a bailment for the sole benefit of the bailor, the bailee, or for the mutual benefit of both parties. to constitute a pledge, however, there must be a debt owing the pledgee, and the property must be delivered to him, and accepted by him as security for the debt. the debt must be legal, and must be supported by a sufficient consideration to support the contract of pledge. _a_ won $50.00 at cards from _b_. _b_ gave _a_ his watch as security for the debt. _b_ was permitted to recover possession of his watch from _a_ by legal action, since the gambling transaction was illegal. _b_ did not legally owe _a_ $50.00. an illegal debt cannot support a contract of pledge. if, for any reason, the debt is not owing or is not valid, it will not support a contract of pledge. =242. title to property pledged.= the legal title or ownership of personal property pledged remains in the debtor or pledgor. a right of possession is given the pledgee. this is sometimes called a _special property_. a pledge differs from a sale in that, in a sale, the title or ownership of the personal property passes to the purchaser, while the possession may remain in the seller. in a pledge, however, the possession passes to the pledgee or creditor, while the title remains in the pledgor or debtor. a pledge differs from a chattel mortgage in that, in the latter, the title passes to the creditor or mortgagee, subject to revesting in the mortgagee or debtor, upon the latter's paying the mortgage debt. there is probably one exception to the rule that title to property pledged does not pass to the pledgee, and that is in case of negotiable instruments. a negotiable instrument endorsed in blank, or made payable to bearer passes like currency by delivery. a pledge of such paper passes title to the pledgee. a pledge of negotiable paper not endorsed in blank, or not payable to bearer should be made by proper endorsement. in this event title passes to the pledgee. the title is revested in the pledgor by proper indorsement, or by delivery, if the instrument is transferable by delivery, when the debt secured is paid. a pledgee of negotiable paper, who takes it before it is due without notice of defenses, is an innocent purchaser for value without notice, and as such, is entitled to the rights of an innocent purchaser for value without notice. (see _innocent purchaser for value without notice_, chapter on negotiable instruments.) =243. collateral securities.= loans by banks are frequently made on collateral securities. this means that the borrower gives a bank a promissory note for the amount, and pledges personal property to secure the note. the contract of pledge may be by separate written instrument, or it may be made a part of the note itself. where made a part of the note, the note is called a _collateral note_. (see _collateral note_, chapter on negotiable instruments.) any kind of property which is the subject of a pledge may be used as collateral security. stocks, bonds, and even commercial paper are commonly used. jewelry, bills of lading, and warehouse receipts are not infrequently used in this kind of a pledge. collateral security given as security for a promissory note or other negotiable instrument is a pledge. the rules governing ordinary pledges govern this kind of pledge as well. the only practical distinction between a collateral loan and an ordinary loan is that, in a collateral loan, the debt is evidenced by a negotiable instrument which is secured by a pledge of personal property. =244. rights and duties of pledgor and pledgee.= a pledgor has the right to have his pledged property returned to him upon payment of the debt secured by the pledge. he also has the right to have the property carefully preserved and cared for while in the possession of the pledgee. the pledgee is entitled to retain possession of the property pledged until the debt owing him is paid. he may re-pledge the property if he so desires. if the pledged property is negotiable paper, the pledgee must collect the paper as it falls due, and observe all the requirements necessary to preserve the rights of the pledgor. if the property pledged is tangible personal property, the pledgee must use the care of an ordinarily prudent man in the preservation and protection of it. he is not permitted to use property which may be injured by use, and should not use the property except to the extent that it is necessary for its preservation. if the pledgee sells or transfers the debt secured, the purchaser is entitled to the benefit of the pledge. that is, if _a_ owes _b_ $500.00 and pledges five shares of stock to _b_ as security for the debt, and _b_ sells the debt to _c_, _c_ is entitled to the benefits of the pledged certificates of stock. if _b_ gives _c_ possession of the stock, _c_ may retain the same until he receives the $500.00 from _a_. if _b_ does not turn over the shares of stock to _c_, _c_ may bring an action to compel the transfer of possession to him. =245. disposal of property by pledgee after default.= if the pledgor fails to pay the debt secured when due, the pledgee has the right to enforce his pledge. in the absence of any special agreement, the law impliedly gives the pledgee the right to sell the property at public sale, and apply as much of the proceeds of the pledged property as is necessary to the payment of his debt. this sale must be public. the pledgee must first notify the pledgor that he is in default of payment, and of his intention to sell the property, giving the time and place of the proposed sale. the pledgee cannot be a purchaser at the sale, unless so permitted by express stipulation in the contract of pledge. many contracts of pledge are in writing, by the terms of which the pledgor waives notice of default and of time and place of sale, and permits the pledgee to sell at private sale, and to become a purchaser at the sale. when a pledgee is given the right to purchase by the contract of pledge, he cannot make a valid purchase without advertising the property, and without exerting himself reasonably to obtain the greatest amount possible for the pledged property at the sale. in selling pledged property, notice of default should be given the debtor. he should also be notified of the time and place of sale. the sale should be advertised publicly, and should be public. the pledgee cannot himself purchase the property unless the contract of pledge expressly so provides. even in this event, the sale will not be held valid unless it is public and fair in every way to the interests of the pledgor. a pledgee is permitted in some states to sell according to certain statutory methods provided. a pledgee may sell by foreclosing his lien in equity. this means by filing a written request in a court of equity to sell the property. in this event, the sale is conducted by order of court. =246. redemption.= a pledgor has the right to obtain possession of the property pledged, by paying the debt secured at any time before actual sale of the property. a pledgor sometimes agrees by the contract of pledge, to waive the right to redeem the property after default of payment of the debt secured. courts will not enforce such a provision of the agreement against him. the pledgor is permitted to redeem the property by paying or tendering the amount of the debt at any time before sale of the pledged property. if the pledgor is in default of payment, however, and agrees by separate agreement, made subsequently to the contract of pledge, that the pledgee may keep the property pledged in satisfaction of the debt, he is bound by this agreement. mortgages of personal property =247. mortgages of personal property defined.= by _mortgage_ of personal property, is meant the transfer of title to personal property by a debtor to a creditor; the possession of the property usually remaining in the debtor, and the transfer being made for the purpose of giving the creditor security for the debt, the debtor having the right to secure a return of title to the property by paying the debt within a stipulated time. it is a conditional sale. it is not absolutely necessary that possession of property which is the subject of a chattel mortgage, remain in the debtor. possession may be given the creditor with the understanding that possession and title are to revest in the debtor when the latter pays the debt secured. as a matter of business practice, however, possession of personal property which is the subject of a chattel mortgage, remains in the debtor, the creditor taking the title as security for the debt, with the right to secure possession or sell the property in case the debtor fails to pay the debt secured when due. when possession of personal property is given a creditor as security for a debt, the transaction is usually in the form of a pledge. in a pledge, title remains in the debtor, but possession is given the creditor. the distinguishing features of a sale, bailment or pledge, and a mortgage of personal property are important. in a sale of personal property title passes to the purchaser, while possession usually remains in the seller until the purchase price is paid. in a pledge, which is a form of a bailment, title remains in the bailor, and possession only is given the bailee or creditor. in case of a chattel mortgage, possession remains in the debtor, while title passes to the creditor subject to revesting in the debtor upon payment of the debt secured. the debtor, or person giving the mortgage, is called the _mortgagor_, the creditor, or person receiving the mortgage, is called _mortgagee_. [illustration: in the private office of the general manager of the s. obermayer co., cincinnati, ohio] =248. what kinds of personal property may be mortgaged.= the rule is usually stated as follows: any interest in personal property which may be the subject of a present sale may be mortgaged. any tangible personal property such as furniture, horses, cattle and clothing, as well as intangible personal property, such as promissory notes, contracts, and shares of stock may be mortgaged. it is not necessary that the mortgagor have absolute, unencumbered title to the property to give a mortgage. an owner may give several mortgages on the same property. he may mortgage his interest as long as any remains. if _a_ owns a stock of goods worth $10,000, he may give successive mortgages to different creditors to whom he is indebted. he must practice no fraud, however. he must make each mortgage subject to the prior ones, and must reveal the facts to the creditor taking the mortgage. but he is permitted to mortgage his remaining interest. =249. a mortgage of personal property as security for a debt.= a mortgage of personal property is a contract, and must be supported by a consideration. mortgages are usually given to secure loans of money. they may, however, be given to secure any kind of obligation. a mortgage of personal property may be given to secure advances of money to be made in the future, as well as present or past advances or obligations. it is usually held that a past indebtedness is sufficient consideration to support a mortgage, as to all persons, except one who may have been defrauded out of the property mortgaged. =250. form of mortgages of personal property.= to constitute a transaction a chattel mortgage, there must be an agreement by which title to personal property is transferred to a creditor upon condition that it is to revest in the debtor upon the latter paying a certain sum of money, or fulfilling an obligation, within a certain time. as between the mortgagor and mortgagee themselves, an oral chattel mortgage is binding, unless within the provisions of the statute of frauds. (see _statute of frauds_, chapter on sales.) most states provide that contracts for the sale of personal property involving more than $50.00 must be in writing to be enforceable. this provision applies to chattel mortgages. if possession of the mortgaged personal property is given the mortgagee under an oral mortgage, the transaction is binding, not only between the parties thereto, but as to third persons as well. most states provide by statute that as against third persons who purchase the property, or as against creditors of the mortgagor, the chattel mortgage must be in writing, and be recorded or filed with a public official, in case possession of the mortgaged property is left with the mortgagor. this question is discussed more at length in the following section. =251. filing and recording mortgages of personal property.= most states have statutes providing that chattel mortgages must be filed or recorded with a designated public official to be effective as against creditors, subsequent purchasers or mortgagees. this requires that the mortgage be in writing, and be deposited or recorded according to the provisions of the statute with the designated public official. for example, if _a_ orally mortgages his horse to _b_ to secure a loan of $40.00, the mortgage may be binding between _a_ and _b_, but if _c_, a creditor of _a_, secures a judgment against _a_ and levies on the horse, his levy is superior to _b's_ mortgage. if _a_ sells the horse to _d_, who has no notice of the mortgage to _b_, _d's_ rights to the horse are superior to _b's_. if _a_ gives a mortgage in writing to _e_, who records his mortgage according to statute, his rights to the horse are superior to _b's_. the statutes of the different states require these mortgages to be refiled at stated intervals. most states require them to be refiled each year. some require them to be refiled only every three years. =252. rights of mortgagor in property mortgaged.= a mortgage of personal property ordinarily contains a stipulation that the mortgagor shall retain possession until after default of payment of the mortgage debt. some states have statutory provisions giving the mortgagor the right of possession of the mortgaged property before default of payment of the mortgage debt. it is the custom at the present time to give the mortgagor possession of the property before default. if a mortgagor having possession of the property has it stored on his own behalf, and the warehouseman acquires a lien on the goods for his charges, his lien is inferior to the mortgage. the same is true if a mechanic acquires a lien for repairs upon the property. a mortgagor may mortgage his interest in the personal property by giving a second mortgage. the second mortgagee takes the mortgagor's right to have the property revest in him upon payment of the debt secured by the first mortgage. a mortgagor may sell his interest in the property, subject to the interest of the mortgagee. if the mortgage stipulates that a mortgagor cannot sell his interest, this stipulation is binding. a mortgagor has the right to pay the debt secured, and by this means to have the title to the property revest in him. =253. rights and liabilities of mortgagee.= a mortgagee of personal property has a conditional title to the property. if the mortgagor does not pay the debt secured, according to the terms of the mortgage the mortgagee has the right to seize the property or at least to subject it to the satisfaction of his debt. the mortgagee has the right to sell the debt secured by the mortgage. in the absence of an express stipulation to the contrary, a transfer by a mortgagee of the debt secured by the mortgage, transfers the mortgage. an assignment of a chattel mortgage apart from the debt secured, passes no interest to the transferee. a mortgagee has the right to seize the property upon default of payment of the debt secured, if the mortgage contains a stipulation to that effect. the mortgagee has the right to foreclose his lien. by this is meant that he has the right to file a petition in a court of equity asking that the property be sold, and that his claim be paid from the proceeds first, and that the mortgagor's right to pay the debt and secure a return of the property be cut off. this is discussed under the section on _foreclosure_. =254. mortgagor's right of redemption.= in law, a mortgage is regarded as a security for a debt, rather than as a transfer of property. by a chattel mortgage, a transfer of title to personal property is made by a debtor to a creditor as security for a debt. the debtor has the right, however, to secure a return of the title to the property by paying the mortgage indebtedness according to the terms of the mortgage. when the debtor fails to pay the debt when it is due, absolute title to the property vests in the mortgagee or creditor. the law, however, permits the debtor or mortgagor to pay the debt at any time before actual sale of the property by the mortgagee, together with interest and expenses, and thus secure the title to the mortgaged property. this is known as the _mortgagor's equity of redemption_. legal title is vested absolutely in the mortgagee upon failure of the mortgagor to pay the mortgage debt when due. the mortgagor, however, is permitted to pay the debt with expenses at any time before sale of the property, and by this means to secure a return of the title to the property. this makes a mortgage of personal property in effect a security for a debt, rather than a transfer of title. the purpose of the law is to give the creditor or mortgagee the right to secure the payment of his debt out of the mortgaged property, and nothing more. most states have statutes providing a method by which a mortgagor may obtain his equity of redemption. where there are no statutes, this right must be enforced by a petition in a court of equity. =255. mortgagee's right of foreclosure.= equity permits the mortgagor to recover the mortgaged property by filing a petition in a court of equity, even after he has defaulted in paying the mortgage debt, by tendering the amount due, together with interest and expenses. this right of the mortgagor may be cut off by an equitable right enforced on the part of the creditor or mortgagee. this right is called the _mortgagee's right of foreclosure_. when the debtor or mortgagor is in default, the creditor or mortgagee is permitted to file a petition in a court of equity, setting forth the fact, and asking the court to order the property to be sold, the expenses to be paid, the mortgage debt to be satisfied, and the balance of the proceeds of the sale to be paid to the debtor or mortgagor. after this proceeding has been resorted to and completed, the debtor cannot enforce his equity of redemption. the common method afforded a mortgagee of foreclosing a mortgagor's equity of redemption is by the petition in equity above described. many of the states have provided statutory methods which may be followed. some mortgages by express stipulation give the creditor or mortgagee the right to seize the property and sell same upon default of the debtor to pay. this takes the place of an equitable foreclosure. when a mortgage contains a power of sale stipulation, the mortgagee may seize the property when the mortgagor defaults, and sell the same at public sale. the excess recovered over the mortgage debt and expenses, must be paid the mortgagor. if possession of the property cannot be obtained peaceably, the mortgagee must bring an action in replevin, by which possession is obtained by an officer of the court. in some jurisdictions, a mortgagee is permitted to seize and sell mortgaged property upon default of the debtor, even though the mortgage contains no power of sale stipulation. the sale must be _bona fide_ and public, or it can be set aside at the instance of the defrauded mortgagor. carriers =256. carriers defined.= _carrier_ is the term applied to individuals or companies engaged generally or specially in carrying goods or passengers from place to place. the business of carriers has grown rapidly with the development of this country. the business of steamboat, railway, express, and electric package companies forms an important part of present day affairs. carriers are usually classified as _common_ or _private_. both common and private carriers may carry either passengers or goods. carriers of passengers are discussed in a separate chapter. =257. common carriers of goods.= a common carrier of goods is one who represents himself as engaged in the business of carrying goods from place to place for anyone who desires to employ him. a common carrier of goods is liable as an insurer of the goods. by reason of this exceptional liability attaching to a common carrier, it is important to know who are common carriers. everyone who carries goods from place to place is not a common carrier. to constitute a person a common carrier, there must be a representation on his part of a willingness to carry goods belonging to anyone who desires to employ him for that purpose. a common carrier need not necessarily hold himself out as willing to carry all classes of goods. he may limit his business to carrying a peculiar class of goods, and still be a common carrier. it may be stated as a rule that anyone who holds himself out as willing to carry goods of any person is a common carrier. common examples of common carriers are railroad companies, express companies, public transfer companies, and electric package companies. an express company, in holding itself out as willing to carry goods of any person, is a common carrier. if persons carry goods only on special contract, and choose their customers, they are private carriers, and are not liable as insurers of the goods entrusted to their care. anyone may engage in the business of a private carrier, and so long as he does not hold himself out as a common carrier, he cannot be compelled to accept for carriage goods against his will, neither is he liable as an insurer of the goods. a private carrier is an ordinary bailee. if he agrees to carry for compensation, he must exercise ordinary care, and is liable for ordinary negligence. the business of a common carrier is said to be one of the exceptional mutual benefit bailments. the exceptional liability of a common carrier is discussed under a separate section. =258. implied liability of a common carrier.= in early days when pirates infested the seas and stagecoach robberies were common, it was an easy matter for a common carrier to conspire with robbers and thieves, in unjustly depriving the owner of the goods entrusted to the carrier's care. by reason of the opportunity given a common carrier fraudulently to deprive a shipper of his goods, the law at an early time placed the exceptional liability of an insurer upon a common carrier. the relation between a shipper and a carrier, after goods are placed in the hands of the carrier, is one of mutual benefit bailment. the liability of a common carrier, however, is not limited to the liability of an ordinary mutual benefit bailee. common carriers and innkeepers are said to be _exceptional mutual benefit bailees_. this exceptional liability is placed on them by reason of the opportunity given them fraudulently to deprive the owners of their goods, and to compel the carriers to protect the goods against robbery and theft. a common carrier is liable as an insurer of the goods entrusted to his care. he cannot avoid liability by acting as an ordinarily prudent man would act under the circumstances in protecting and caring for the goods, but he must actually protect them or be liable to the owner for their loss or damage. there are a few exceptions discussed under a separate section. if _a_ employs _b_ to keep, feed, and care for his horse for six months, for fifty dollars, and _b_ puts the horse in his stable, where it is stolen, together with _b's_ own horse, _b_ is not liable to _a_ for the loss of the horse, if he acted as an ordinarily prudent man would act under the same conditions. if, however, _a_ delivers his horse to _b_, a railroad company, to be shipped from buffalo to chicago, and the horse is stolen from _b's_ possession, _b_ must pay _a_ the value of the horse. he is not permitted to say that he exercised ordinary care in the protection of the horse. this is what is meant by the exceptional liability of a common carrier. while the reason for this exceptional liability of a common carrier has largely passed away by the practical extermination of highway robbers and pirates, the exceptional liability of common carriers remains as a part of the law. this exceptional liability is not a matter of express contract between the shipper and the carrier, but is impliedly a part of the contract. =259. exceptions to the liability of a common carrier as an insurer.= a common carrier of goods is not absolutely liable as an insurer of the goods entrusted to his care. if the goods are lost, injured, or destroyed by an act of god, by a public enemy, by negligence of the shipper, by the inherent nature of the goods, or by the exercise of public authority, the carrier is not liable as an insurer. by _act of god_ is meant an inevitable act arising without the intervention or aid of a human agency. a loss of goods by a storm, by lightning, or by earthquake is an example. if the goods are lost or injured as a result of any act of the shipper, the carrier is not liable as an insurer. a carrier is permitted to adopt and enforce reasonable regulations relating to the packing and shipment of goods. if the shipper negligently packs goods so that they are injured by reason thereof, the carrier is not liable as an insurer. if the shipper improperly addresses packages, and they are lost by reason thereof, the carrier is not liable as an insurer. if the shipper accompanies live stock, and injury occurs by reason of the carelessness of the shipper, the carrier is not liable as an insurer. by _public enemy_ is meant a power at war with a nation. this includes pirates. mere insurrections, robberies, thefts, mobs, and strikes are not included in this class of public enemies. if a loss of goods occurs by means of public enemy, a carrier is not liable as an insurer of the goods. if the loss occurs through the _inherent nature of the goods_, without the negligence of the carrier, the latter is not liable as an insurer. for example, if fruit spoils as a result of warm or cold weather, if the carrier is not in any way at fault, he is not liable as an insurer, since the loss occurs on account of inherent defects of the goods. if animals injure themselves while in the carrier's possession by reason of their viciousness, or fright, which injury could not have been prevented by reasonable care on the part of the carrier, the latter is not responsible. if the goods are lost or injured by reason of the _exercise of public authority_, the carrier is not liable as an insurer. if the goods, while in the possession of the carrier are seized upon attachment, or by levy on execution by the creditors of the shipper, the carrier is not liable if he promptly notifies the shipper. =260. limiting common law liability by special contract.= the common law liability of a common carrier of goods is that of an insurer. it matters not how the loss or injury occurs, whether without, or through the carelessness of the carrier, the latter is liable for the loss, if it does not come within the recognized exceptions. carriers commonly endeavor to limit their exceptional liability by making a special contract with a shipper, by the terms of which the carrier limits his exceptional liability in case of loss. there is considerable conflict of authorities between the different states as to whether a carrier may limit his exceptional liability at all by special contract. where permitted to limit this liability, there is considerable controversy as to the extent to which a carrier may limit his liability by special contract. the courts of most jurisdictions agree that a common carrier cannot limit his exceptional liability by special contract as to his own negligence or the negligence of his servants. this special contract by which a common carrier limits his exceptional liability as an insurer is usually in the form of a written contract signed by the shipper or in the form of stipulations in the bill of lading given to the shipper and called to his attention. if a carrier accepts a carload of hay for shipment, without limiting his common law liability by special contract, and the hay is destroyed by fire, the carrier must respond in damages for the loss, regardless of his negligence. if, however, the carrier enters into a special contract with the shipper to the effect that the carrier shall not be liable for loss by fire, and the hay is destroyed by fire without negligence of the carrier or his agents or servants, the carrier is not liable in damages. =261. limiting common law liability by an agreed valuation.= common carriers frequently attempt to limit their liability for loss or injury to goods by stipulations in a bill of lading, that in case of loss, the valuation shall not exceed $50.00, or some specified amount. if the shipper does not notify the carrier that the valuation is a greater amount, the amount mentioned in the bill of lading is the valuation fixed by special contract. in case of loss there is a great variety of holdings as to whether a carrier may limit his liabilities to the amount mentioned in the contract. probably the courts in the majority of cases hold that such a stipulation is valid in case of losses arising not by reason of the negligence of the carrier or his agents. the courts of a few jurisdictions hold that the stipulation as to valuation is good even as against the negligence of the carrier or his agent. so far as interstate shipments are concerned, the question is settled by the federal interstate commerce act of 1906. this act provides that as to shipments from one state to another, such a stipulation is not valid. the language of the interstate commerce act relative to this question is as follows: a common carrier receiving property for interstate transportation shall issue a receipt or bill of lading therefor, and be liable to the holder for any loss, damage or injury to the property, and no contract, receipt, etc., shall exempt the carrier from the liability thereby imposed. at present, so far as interstate shipments are concerned, a common carrier cannot limit his common law liability by a special contract. =262. bills of lading and shipping receipts.= _bill of lading_, or _shipping receipt_ is the term applied to the receipt given a shipper by a carrier, when goods are delivered into the latter's possession. a bill of lading serves two purposes. it is a receipt of the shipper from the carrier for the goods delivered to the latter, and it is a contract representing the agreement between the shipper and the carrier. it is usually held that the terms printed on the bill of lading are binding on the shipper, even though the bill is not signed by him. a bill of lading represents the title to the goods. it may be transferred like a negotiable instrument. a purchaser takes the position of the shipper. a bill of lading is negotiable in the sense that it represents title or ownership of the goods, and in the sense that a purchaser takes the right of the shipper in the goods. but it is not negotiable in the sense that a purchaser takes a better position than the original holder had. =263. title to goods after delivery to common carrier.= in the absence of special agreement to the contrary, where a party in one town purchases goods from a party in another, the goods to be delivered by common carrier, title to the goods passes to the purchaser when the goods are delivered to the carrier properly packed and addressed. this kind of a sale is commonly called a sale _f. o. b._ place of purchase, "f. o. b." means "free on board." careful business people, in making sales or purchases, specify whether the goods are to be f. o. b. place of shipment, or f. o. b. place of delivery. if the sale is f. o. b. place of delivery, title does not pass to the purchaser until the goods are delivered at the place specified. if the goods are lost by the carrier, the loss falls on the shipper or carrier, and not on the purchaser. if goods are shipped f. o. b. place of shipment, or if no agreement is made about shipment or payment of freight, title passes to the purchaser when the goods are properly delivered to the carrier. if the goods are lost, the loss falls on the carrier or purchaser, and not on the seller. where no stipulation is made relative to payment of freight or carrier's charges, the law presumes that the purchaser is to pay the carrier's charges. sales are sometimes made in which it is specified that the freight charges are _to be allowed_. this means that the shipper is to pay the carrier the freight charges. if the goods are lost, the loss falls on the purchaser. if there is an express stipulation that the goods are to be delivered at the place of delivery by the seller, this means that title does not pass to the buyer until the delivery is made at that place, and the shipper or seller stands the risk of loss in transit. =264. duty of common carrier to accept goods for carriage.= a common carrier of goods holds himself out to the public as ready to carry the goods of anyone who desires to employ him. the carrier may demand payment of reasonable charges in advance. he may also enforce reasonable regulations relating to the packing, delivery, and addressing of goods. carriers are not obliged to carry goods other than the kinds they purport to carry. for example, an express company representing itself to the public as a carrier of light packages cannot be forced to accept heavy machinery for carriage. a carrier cannot be compelled to accept goods not belonging to the class it represents itself as being in the business of carrying. but a carrier must accept for carriage goods of the class it purports to carry, no matter by whom tendered. if the bill of lading offered by the carrier contains stipulations not agreeable to the shipper, the latter may demand the carrier to carry the goods under the terms of the implied common law liability of a carrier. the carrier is excused from accepting goods in the event of a great and unexpected bulk of business. he must, however, furnish sufficient equipment to meet the general requirements of business. =265. stoppage in transitu.= where goods sold on credit have been delivered to a carrier, if the vendor learns that the purchaser is insolvent, he may order the carrier to withhold delivery of the goods. this is called _stoppage in transitu_. this question is also discussed in the chapter on sales. the vendor may compel the carrier to withhold delivery of goods by giving him written or oral notice to that effect. to be effective, this notice must be given before the carrier has surrendered possession of the goods to the purchaser. if the carrier delivers the goods to the purchaser after receiving notice from the seller to withhold shipment, he is liable in damages to the seller. if the purchaser has received possession of the bill of lading, and has sold it to a _bona fide_ purchaser, as to the latter, the seller cannot exercise the right of stoppage _in transitu_. if the carrier is in doubt about who is entitled to possession of the goods, he may file a petition with a court, called an _interpleader_, asking the court to determine who is entitled to possession of the goods. =266. delivery of goods by a carrier.= the manner of delivery of goods required of a common carrier, depends largely upon usage and custom. in large cities, express companies and carriers of small packages usually make deliveries to residences and places of business. in small towns, and in the country they usually deliver at their depots or store rooms only. persons dealing with common carriers are bound by their customs, and by reasonable regulations of the carriers. carriers by water and rail ordinarily deliver at their depots and warehouses only. the purchaser is obliged to call for his goods. the carrier is obliged to give the purchaser notice that the goods have arrived. if the purchaser fails to call within a reasonable time thereafter, the exceptional liability of a common carrier ceases, and the liability of a warehouseman attaches. a warehouseman is obliged to exercise only ordinary care in the protection of the goods, while a carrier is an insurer of the goods. if a carrier delivers goods to the wrong person, he is liable in damages to the owner. if the consignee refuses to accept the goods, the carrier should notify the shipper of this fact. the carrier's liability then becomes that of a warehouseman. goods are frequently delivered to a carrier _c. o. d._ (collect on delivery). a carrier, in this event, is required to collect a specified amount from the purchaser before delivery. the purchaser is entitled to inspect the goods. title to goods sent c. o. d., is in the purchaser, the possession only being reserved by the owner for the purpose of collecting certain charges, ordinarily the purchase price. =267. charges and lien of common carrier.= a common carrier usually stipulates by special contract with a shipper the amount of charges for carriage. in the absence of special contract, the carrier is entitled to a reasonable amount for this service. the united states congress has the right to regulate charges for interstate carriage. the states may, through their legislatures, regulate the rates within their respective jurisdictions. a carrier has a lien on the goods carried for his charges, and may retain possession of the goods until these charges are paid. =268. discrimination by common carrier.= a common carrier represents himself as willing to carry the goods of anyone who desires to employ him. business depends to a large degree upon the facilities offered by carriers, notably by railroads. if certain business men or interests are favored by carriers, competition in the same line is eventually destroyed. for this reason, the law prohibited discrimination on the part of a common carrier. all persons shipping under the same conditions must be treated alike. the policy of the law is to promote competition. there are cases which hold that a carrier is permitted to charge one person a less rate than another, if the latter is not charged an unreasonable rate. but this rule does not apply where the parties are competitors and where the difference in rate charged is for the purpose of destroying competition. the matter of discrimination is now regulated largely by interstate commerce legislation discussed under a separate section. =269. carriers of mail.= the constitution of the united states gives congress the power to establish postoffices and post roads. under this provision, the postoffice department has been created. it is a department of the government. while the postoffice department carries mail for compensation, it is a department of the government and not a common carrier. the government cannot be sued without giving its consent. it is an elementary principle that a government or sovereign power cannot be sued by its citizens. if the mail is lost, the government cannot be sued for damages. the government employs postal clerks, postmasters and mail-carriers to operate the postal system. these agents or servants of the government are required to give bond to the government. if they violate their contract, or neglect their duties, the government may collect its losses on these bonds. a person whose mail is lost cannot sue a postoffice agent on his bond. if, however, a person whose mail is lost can trace the loss to the carelessness of a particular postmaster or mail-carrier, he may sue such postmaster or carrier for damages sustained. =270. interstate commerce act.= the united states constitution gives congress the power to regulate interstate commerce. the united states congress enacted interstate commerce regulations in 1887, 1889, 1891, 1895 and in 1906. the present united states interstate commerce regulation is commonly known as the _interstate commerce act of 1906_. this act provides for an interstate commerce commission, consisting of seven members. each member receives a salary of $10,000 a year. the act compels carriers engaged in interstate or foreign commerce to publish a schedule of charges for carrying property. carriers who give rebates or offset, or discriminate between shippers in any way, are subject to heavy fines, and the officers and agents are subject to imprisonment. the commission is authorized to investigate the profits and charges of carriers, and to fix the maximum and minimum rates for carriage as well as the proportion of through rates to which each of several carriers is entitled. persons discriminated against may make complaints to the commission. the commission may investigate these complaints as a court by summoning witnesses, and by taking testimony. the commission may award damages to the party injured. if the carrier refuses to comply with the orders of the commission, the latter may invoke the machinery of the united states courts to enforce its order. when matters are removed to a united states court, the finding of the commission makes out a _prima facie_ case. section 20 of the act prevents carriers doing interstate or foreign commerce business from relieving themselves from liability by special provision in the bills of lading. this is a very salutary act, since it was the common custom of carriers to place many provisions in their bills of lading by which they endeavored to evade their liability as common carriers. it was practically impossible for a shipper to comprehend all the printed stipulations contained in a bill of lading. this provision of the act compelling a common carrier doing an interstate or foreign commerce business to issue a bill of lading by which he is liable, in case of loss, for the real value of the goods lost, is as follows: "any common carrier, railroad or transportation company receiving goods for transportation from a point in one state to a point in another shall issue a receipt or bill of lading therefor, and shall be liable to the lawful holder thereof for any loss, damage or injury to such property caused by it, or by any common carrier, railroad or transportation company to which such property may be delivered, or over whose lines such property may pass, and no contract, receipt, rule or regulation shall exempt such common carrier, railroad or transportation company from the liability hereby imposed; provided, that nothing in this section shall deprive any holder of such receipt or bill of lading of any remedy or right of action which he has under existing law." the act also provides that every person or corporation, whether carrier or shipper, who shall knowingly grant, give, solicit, accept or receive any such rebates, concession or discrimination shall be deemed guilty of a misdemeanor, and on conviction thereof shall be punished by a fine of not less than one thousand dollars ($1,000.00), nor more than twenty thousand dollars ($20,000.00). the act also provides that the willful failure, upon the part of any carrier, to file and publish the tariff or rate and charges required by said act, or the failure strictly to observe such tariffs until changed according to law, shall be a misdemeanor, and upon conviction thereof, the corporation offending shall be subject to a fine of not less than $1,000.00 for each offense, nor more than $20,000.00 for each offense. the act also provides that agents or officers of a corporation convicted of violating the act may be imprisoned not more than two years in addition to the fine. a person delivering property to a carrier for transportation to another state or to a foreign country who shall accept a rebate or offset from the regular scheduled charge shall, in addition to the above described penalties, forfeit to the united states a sum of money three times the amount received from the carrier. carriers of passengers =271. carriers of passengers defined.= one who holds himself out as ready and willing to carry from place to place for compensation, all who desire to employ him for this purpose is a public carrier of passengers. the liability of a public carrier of passengers is not the same as that of a common carrier of goods. a common carrier of goods is liable as an insurer of the goods, while a common carrier of passengers is obliged to exercise a high or extraordinary degree of care, only in the protection of passengers. railroad, steamboat, ferry and omnibus companies are common examples of public carriers of passengers. owners of buildings operating elevators are in the position of public carriers of passengers. while, strictly, they are not obliged to carry all persons, they operate the elevator publicly for the convenience of their tenants, and their tenants' clients. the liability for injury to passengers of owners of buildings in which elevators are operated is the same as that of public carriers of passengers. =272. who are passengers?= a person does not have to be on board a public conveyance to be a passenger. steamboat companies provide depots, waiting rooms, and wharves for the convenience of passengers. railroad companies provide depots, rest rooms, and waiting rooms for persons desiring to make use of the railroad. it is said to be the rule, that when a person enters the premises of a public carrier for the purpose of becoming a passenger, he is a passenger from the time he enters upon the property of the public carrier. if a person enters the premises of a public carrier not for the purpose of purchasing a ticket, nor to become a passenger, he is a mere trespasser, and is not entitled to the rights and privileges of a passenger. a person traveling on a pass is a passenger. a carrier of passengers is permitted to enforce reasonable regulations for acceptance of passengers. until these reasonable rules are observed a person is not a passenger. a person is a passenger until he has a reasonable time to leave the public conveyance and premises of the carrier after reaching his journey's end. =273. rights and liabilities of carriers of passengers.= a public carrier of passengers is obliged to carry all suitable persons who desire to become passengers, so far as the carrier has facilities for their accommodation. the carrier is also obliged to furnish reasonable facilities to accommodate all who may reasonably be expected to present themselves as passengers. a carrier may refuse to carry drunken or disorderly persons, as well as those who, by reason of contagious diseases or for other reasons, are not proper passengers. a carrier may require passengers to purchase tickets before admitting them to the vehicle of conveyance. the carrier is permitted to pass reasonable rules and regulations for conducting his business. unlike a carrier of goods, a carrier of passengers is not liable as an insurer. a carrier of passengers is bound to exercise extraordinary care in the protection of the passengers, and is liable for any negligence resulting in a passenger's injury, and which is not contributed to by the passenger. if a passenger refuses to pay his fare, or becomes disorderly, he may be removed by the carrier. the carrier is entitled to use only the force necessary to effect the removal of the passenger. if the passenger is injured by reason of excessive force used by the carrier in, his removal, the carrier is liable in damages. some states require by statute that carriers remove obnoxious passengers only at regular stations. in the absence of such statutes, a carrier may remove a passenger at any place where he may be removed without injury. if a passenger is injured by reason of his own negligence, or if his own negligence in any way contributed directly to the injury, he cannot recover damages from the carrier. =274. baggage.= a public carrier of passengers may pass reasonable rules and regulations governing the control and amount of personal baggage a passenger is permitted to carry with him. the contract between a passenger and an ordinary public carrier impliedly gives the passenger the right to carry with him on his journey, baggage consisting of articles to be used on his journey. the business of the passenger, his social position, and the purpose of the journey largely determine the question of what articles properly constitute personal baggage. a workingman would not be permitted to claim that jewels and fancy dresses were a part of his personal baggage such articles would properly constitute the personal baggage of an actress or a society woman. if the personal baggage is placed in trunks and packages, and placed in the absolute control of the carrier, the latter is liable for their protection as an insurer. if the articles are retained by the passenger, the carrier is liable only as a bailee for hire. that is, the carrier is liable only for ordinary negligence, and is obliged to exercise only ordinary care. [illustration: the shipping department at the plant of the samuel c. tatum co., cincinnati, ohio] a carrier is permitted to charge for excess baggage, and becomes liable as an insurer of such baggage. a carrier is not obliged to carry any baggage not necessary for the convenience or comfort of a passenger, and if attempt is made to carry it as personal baggage, the carrier does not become liable for loss or injury thereto. sample goods carried by traveling salesmen do not constitute personal baggage. a carrier is not permitted to carry these samples free of charge. if the freight is paid by the salesman, the carrier becomes liable as an insurer. innkeepers =275. innkeeper defined.= an innkeeper is a person who keeps a public house for the entertainment, for compensation, of all fit persons who desire to become guests and who are willing to pay the regular price. an innkeeper furnishes both food and lodging to guests. persons who furnish one or the other, only, are not innkeepers. innkeepers are classed as exceptional bailees. they are liable as insurers of their guests' baggage entrusted to their care. a boarding-house keeper is not an innkeeper. a restaurant keeper is not an innkeeper. =276. duties and liabilities of innkeeper.= innkeepers are obliged to receive all fit persons who present themselves as guests and who offer the regular price for entertainment. an innkeeper is obliged by reason of his public profession, to keep food and lodging facilities sufficient to meet all reasonably expected demands. like a carrier of passengers, an innkeeper is not obliged to receive obnoxious persons. after a traveler has been received by an innkeeper for the purpose of obtaining food and lodging, he is a guest. the innkeeper is then obliged to use reasonable care for the protection of the guest. a person who boards at an inn is not a guest, neither is one who rooms at an inn, but does not board there. an innkeeper is liable as an insurer, for the loss of, or damage to, the goods entrusted to his care by his guest. if the goods are lost or injured without any negligence on the part of the guest himself, and not by an act of god (see _act of god_, chapter on carriers), or by a public enemy, the innkeeper is liable to the guest. if the goods are retained by the guest, and remain in his possession and control, the innkeeper is not liable as an insurer for their protection, but is obliged to exercise only ordinary care. =277. lien of innkeeper.= an innkeeper has a right to retain possession of the goods of his guests until he receives his compensation. this is called an _innkeepers' lien_. at common law, a boarding-house keeper has no lien on the goods of the boarder. some states provide by statute for a boarding-house keeper's lien upon the goods of a boarder. even though the goods brought to an inn are the goods of a third person, the innkeeper has a lien thereon for the charges of the guest, unless the innkeeper knows at the time of receiving the guest, that the goods belonged to another. unless otherwise provided by statute, an innkeeper cannot sell the goods of a guest upon which he has a lien, but must file a bill in equity, a petition in a court of equity requiring the goods to be sold under order of court for the payment of his charges. real property =278. real property defined.= the great english legal writer, blackstone, divides all property into two kinds, _real_ and _personal_. the latter embraces everything of a movable nature, while the former embraces everything of a permanent nature. blackstone defines real property as consisting of _lands_, _tenements_ and _hereditaments_. by land is meant the soil, and everything above and beneath the soil, the trees and vegetation above as well as the deposits beneath the soil. by tenement is meant anything that may be held, such as a franchise or right of way. by hereditament is meant everything that can be inherited. it includes lands and tenements. under the english law, heirlooms were considered hereditaments. they are not so considered under our law. =279. trees, growing crops, and emblements.= growing trees are part of the land and are considered real property. nursery trees may be planted by a tenant for the purpose of the tenancy. in this event, they are considered personal property. trees cut down and cut into logs are personal property. trees blown down or cut down, but not cut into logs are real property. trees sold, but not cut, are regarded as personal property. a practical distinction between real and personal property is that real property passes to the heirs at the death of the owner, while personal property passes to the executors or administrators of the owner's estate. personal property is first subjected in the satisfaction of judgments at law against the owner. _emblement_ is the term applied to crops which must be planted annually. such crops as corn, potatoes, wheat, and melons are emblements. they are personal property even though not severed from the soil. they belong to the tenant who plants them. apples, peaches, clover, and similar things which are harvested annually, but are grown from roots or trees which are not planted annually, are real property. they are a part of the real estate, and pass with it when the latter is transferred. =280. party walls.= a wall between two estates standing partly on the land of each estate is a _party wall_. if injured or destroyed by one of the adjoining owners, the other has an action for damages against him by reason thereof. if a wall stands wholly upon the land of one owner, and another constructs his house using a part of the wall as a foundation, he is a trespasser and is liable in damages, or may be compelled to remove his house therefrom. if, however, he is permitted to use the wall in such a manner for twenty years, the wall is regarded as a party wall. the party so using the wall for twenty years is said to acquire an _easement by prescription_. party walls are owned in common by adjoining owners. each party does not own half the wall. both parties own the entire wall together. =281. fixtures.= by attaching a piece of personal property permanently to the land, or to something permanently connected with the land, the personal property, in law, becomes a part of the realty. a tenant may so attach personal property to the land of his landlord as to lose title thereto. no distinct line can be drawn between articles which may constitute fixtures and those which may not. it is something of a matter of intention of the one so attaching the articles to the land. it is now usually conceded by the courts that a tenant may attach such articles to the real property as are necessary and desirable for the purpose of his tenancy, and may remove them at or before the expiration of his lease, if the same can be done without injury to the real estate or to the fixtures to which they are attached. a different rule is applied in case of an owner as against a purchaser or mortgagee. for example, if _a_ leases a building for the purpose of operating a dry goods store, he is permitted to put in shelves and to remove them at the expiration of the tenancy. if _a_ were the owner, and permanently attached the shelves, he could not remove them as against a purchaser of the building or a mortgagee. =282. fences.= most of the states have statutes regulating the building and maintenance of fences. parties may enter into a contract relating to partition fences if they choose. the duty to maintain certain portions of a partition fence may result from usage. if _a_ and _b_ are adjacent owners of a farm, and _a_ has for a period of twenty years maintained a certain portion of the partition fence, he may be compelled to continue to maintain that portion of the fence. a partition fence constructed jointly by the adjacent owners is their common property. it is their joint duty to keep it up. either one has a right to go upon the premises of the other for that purpose. one person may construct a fence on his own premises, which he may rebuild or take away at pleasure. a person constructing a fence must use reasonable care in seeing that it is so constructed and kept up that stock coming in contact with it is not injured. =283. private ways.= the right to go over the land of another is known in law as a _way_. originally, ways were of three kinds, a mere foot way, a foot and horse way, by which a horse might be ridden over the way, and a cart way. the last two classes are now treated as one. ways are classified as _ways of necessity_ and _ways of convenience_ or _easements_. if _a_ sells land to _b_ and the only access _b_ has to a highway is over _a's_ land, _b_ has a way of necessity over _a's_ land. if _a_ sells land to _b_ and the only access to a highway left to _a_ is over the land of _b_, _a_ has a way of necessity over _b's_ land. a way of convenience may arise by continuous usage under a claim of right for a period of twenty years. if _a_ for an uninterrupted period of twenty years, under claim of right uses a path over _b's_ premises, he acquires a way of convenience or easement which gives him the right to continue the use of the path. =284. highways.= ordinarily, highways are established by public officials acting under statutory authority. land is taken from the owners by order of court granted upon a petition properly filed and heard. it is said that the public has an _easement in a highway_, a right to use the highway as a roadway. the absolute title remains in the original owner. if the highway is abandoned, the property reverts to the original owner or to his grantees or assignees. a highway may be created by declaration or admission of the owner that a certain piece of property is to be used as a highway. it must also be accepted as such by public officials. the public may also obtain the right to use certain property as a highway by adverse user for a period of twenty years. this is called _obtaining the right by prescription_. _285. estates in land._ the extent of the interest of a person in a certain piece of land or real estate is said to be his _estate_. estates are designated by different names, depending upon the amount of the interest held. in general, estates in land are divided into _freehold estates_ and _estates less than freehold_. freehold estates are in turn divided into _estates of inheritance_, and _estates less than inheritance_. estates of inheritance are divided into _estates in fee simple_, and _estates in fee tail_. estates less than inheritance consist of _dower estates_, _estates curtesy_, _estates for the life of another_, and _estates for one's own life_, and _homestead estates_. estates less than freehold or leasehold estates consist of _estates for years_, _from year to year_, _at sufferance_ and _at will_. =286. freehold estates.= freehold estates embrace estates of inheritance and estates less than inheritance. they are estates of uncertain periods of duration. the estate may be one of inheritance, that is, forever, or for a lifetime. the term, _freehold_, is taken from the name, _freeman_. a freehold estate originally applied to the estate of a freeman. a freeman, that is, a person permitted to go anywhere he chose, belonged to the only class of persons permitted to hold estates of this character. the meaning of the term has lost its significance. under our law, all persons are freemen. =287. estates in fee simple.= absolute ownership in land is termed an _estate in fee simple_. it means that the owner has absolute and unconditional ownership of the land in question. it is an estate of general inheritance. at the owner's death, the estate passes to the general heirs of the owner, unless particular persons are designated by will of the owner to take the title. =288. estates tail.= it was formerly the custom in england for wealthy land owners to give land to the oldest son to be given by him to his oldest son, a particular person or his direct heirs. that is, instead of giving the entire interest in the land to a person in such a manner that the latter could sell or dispose of it as he chose, it was given by deed or will to a particular line of heirs or persons. if _a_ gave his property by will to =b= and _b's_ direct heirs, the estate created did not permit _b_ or his direct heirs to dispose of the estate in such a manner that the direct heirs designated could be deprived of the estate at _b's_ death. granting estates to a particular person or heir rather than to heirs generally, is called _entailing estates_. the estate granted is called an _estate tail_. the result of entailing estates is to continue them in the hands of a few. england no longer permits the entailing of estates for long periods. in this country, the matter is controlled by statutes of the different states. a person is permitted to give real estate, by will, to a person for the latter's life, and then to a person not yet born. the latter takes the estate in _fee_. a person is not permitted to give property to _a_, and to the unborn child of the unborn child of _a_. if this is attempted, when _a_ has a child, the latter takes an _estate in fee simple_. the above doctrine is called the rule against perpetuities. =289. life estates.= an estate created to exist during the life of the holder, during the life of a third person, or until an uncertain event happens or fails to happen, is called a _life estate_. life estates embrace homestead estates, dower estates, and estates by the curtesy. if _a_ gives _b_ a farm for life, remainder in fee to _c_, _b_ takes a life estate. he may sell or transfer his life estate, but no more. if _a_ dies leaving a will, by the terms of which _b_, his wife, is given a farm for life, or during widowhood, _b_ takes a life estate in the farm. if she marries, she loses her estate. this estate may be created by deed as well as by will. =290. estates by the curtesy.= at common law, the husband, at the wife's death, has a life estate in the real property owned by the wife, if issue has been born alive during the life of the wife. the husband may waive his right to the estate if he signs a deed with the wife, whereby he expressly waives his right to his estate by the curtesy. the interest of the husband in the estate of his wife, is at the present time in most states regulated by statute. =291. dower estates.= at common law, at the death of her husband, a wife takes a life interest in one-third the real property owned by her husband during the marriage. if _a_ owns one hundred acres of land, and dies, leaving a wife, _b_, _b_ takes one-third interest for life in the one hundred acres of land. this interest of _b_ is called her _dower estate_. some states by statute provide that the wife shall have a definite share of the husband's estate at the latter's death. in the states having these statutes, the wife is not entitled to dower, but takes the prescribed share in place thereof. the husband cannot deprive the wife of right of dower, by transferring his real estate. if she does not expressly release dower in the deed of conveyance, it may be enforced against the estate, if she survives her husband. =292. exempt estates.= the states generally provide by statute that certain property shall be exempt from execution on judgment obtained by creditors of the owner. exemption statutes usually provide that a certain amount of real estate used as a home by the owner shall not be subjected to the satisfaction of judgments of creditors. if the debtor has no real property used as a home, he is sometimes permitted to retain a certain amount of personal property in place thereof. this statutory right to keep a certain amount of real property exempt from creditors is sometimes called a _debtor's homestead estate_. it exists during the life of the owner. =293. estates for years.= the right to the possession, or the contract for possession of land for a definite period of time is called an estate for years. originally in england, only freemen could hold freehold estates. freehold estates are those of inheritance and those less than inheritance. persons occupying a position inferior to that of freemen under the early english law, sometimes called _villeins_, were permitted to hold estates for years, but not freehold estates. if _a_ leases his farm to _b_ for five years, _b_ has an estate for years. if _a_ leases his house and lot to _b_ for one month, _b_ has an estate for years. if _a_ leases his house and lot to _b_ for two years, and to _c_ for three years, _c's_ estate to follow _b's_, _b_ and _c_ have estates for years. estates for years are also discussed under _landlord and tenant_. estates for years are commonly called leases or leaseholds. a holder of an estate for years may assign or sublet his estate, unless it is provided otherwise in his lease. =294. waste.= if persons have estates for years or life in real property, certain rules for the use of such property are recognized in order that they may not destroy or injure the remaining estate. that is, if _a_ has an estate for life in a farm, and _b_ has the remainder, _a_ is not permitted to destroy _b's_ interest. if a tenant for life or years so treats the estate as permanently to injure it, he is said to commit _waste_. a tenant for life is not permitted to cut off the timber. he may cut out underbrush. if such is the custom in the vicinity, he may cut timber for fuel and to repair buildings and fences. the general rule is, that a tenant for life or years may so use the estate as not permanently to injure or destroy it. he is entitled to the fruits and crops, to cultivate the estate to advantage, but not to destroy the buildings or fences, or to so treat the land as ultimately to destroy its productiveness. =295. estates at will and at sufferance.= estates at will and at sufferance are discussed under the title of _landlord and tenant_. they are estates in land, and are classified as estates less than freehold. an estate which may be ended at the desire or will of either party is known as _an estate at will_. if _a_ and _b_ agree that _a_ may occupy _b's_ house, _a_ to pay thirty dollars per month, the tenancy to cease at the desire of either party, _a_ is said to be a tenant at will, and the estate he possesses is called _an estate at will_. it is not transferable. if _a_ attempts to assign his lease, it ceases. an estate at will is terminated by either party notifying the other of his intention to terminate the lease or by either party doing anything inconsistent with the estate. if the owner dies, the estate is terminated. if a person has a lawful estate in land, and retains possession without right after his interest ceases, he is said to be a _tenant at sufferance_. if _a_ rents _b's_ house for one year, and, at the expiration of the year he still occupies the house without _b's_ consent, he is a tenant at sufferance. he, in fact, has no estate in the premises except that which the owner suffers him to enjoy. this interest is called an _estate at sufferance_. a tenant at sufferance is a wrongdoer. he may be ejected at the will of the owner. the owner is not permitted to use excessive force in ejecting a tenant at sufferance. he may use the force necessary to eject him. at the present time, most of the states have statutory provisions by which unlawful tenants may be ejected by legal process. =296. estates in remainder.= there may be many estates in the same piece of real property. if an owner of an estate in fee simple by one instrument grants an estate less than fee simple to one person and the balance of the fee simple estate to another, the latter estate is called a _remainder_. if _a_, an owner in fee, by the same instrument grants _b_ an estate for life, remainder in fee to _c_, _c_ has an estate in remainder. if _c_ is living at the time the estate is granted, the estate in remainder vests in him at the time of the grant, and is called a _vested remainder_. if the estate in remainder depends upon any contingency, or is conditional in any way it is said to be a _contingent remainder_. if _a_ grants a life estate in his farm to _b_, and the remainder to the heirs of _c_, the heirs of _c_ cannot be determined until _c's_ death. the estate in remainder is said to be _contingent_. =297. estates in reversion.= an owner of an estate in real property in fee simple is permitted to grant his interest in the form of as many estates as he pleases. as long as the total of his grants do not equal his interest, he is said to retain an _estate in reversion_. if _a_ owns a farm in fee simple, and grants _b_ an estate for ten years, _a's_ remaining interest is called an estate in reversion. =298. title to real property.= title to real property or the right of the owner eventually to obtain possession of it may be acquired in several ways. mere occupancy under claim of title will, under certain circumstances, if for a certain uninterrupted period of time, give the occupant title. an uninterrupted possession of real property, under a claim of right for a period in excess of twenty years will in most states give the occupant title by _adverse possession_. civilized nations provide by law that the heirs of the owner of real property shall take the title to the property at the owner's death. estates less than freehold pass as personal property to the executors of the estate of the deceased owner. the statutes of the different states designate who are heirs. title to land owned by the government is transferred by public grant. title by an owner may be conveyed to another by voluntary gift, by devise or will, or by deed. title by devise or will is discussed in the chapter on wills. =299. deeds.= the customary method of transfer of real property is by deed. a deed is a written instrument sealed and delivered for the conveyance of land. deeds were originally divided into _deeds-poll_, and _indentures_. deeds-poll were mere written obligations of the grantor delivered to the grantee, the grantee making no covenants. an indenture, on the other hand, consists of mutual obligation on the part of grantor and grantee. the obligation of each was reduced to writing, signed, sealed, and delivered, the one in exchange for the other. a lease is an example of an indenture. the term, _indenture_, originated from the custom of writing the obligation of both parties on the same piece of paper, and by writing some letters of the alphabet between the two agreements, and by cutting the paper through these letters at sharp angles. the separate obligations could be identified by fitting together the saw-tooth edges of the different instruments. at present, duplicate copies are made designating them as indentures. leases are discussed more at length in the chapter on landlord and tenant. at present, the form of deeds in common use are _quit claim deeds_ and _warranty deeds_. some states provide forms of deeds by statute. even in the absence of statute, a written instrument, properly signed and delivered by the grantor, containing a description of the property, and an expression of intention to convey the real estate described, is probably sufficient to constitute a deed. a formal deed is customarily used. transfers of real property are important transactions. a formal deed contains several formal parts known by different names. these formal parts have resulted from well recognized customs and practices, some of them dating back a great many years. the formal parts of a warranty deed are the _premises_, the _habendum_, the _redendum_, the _conditions_, the _warranties_ or _covenants_, the _conclusions_ and the _acknowledgment_. =300. premises of a deed.= the premises of a deed contain the name and description of the parties. if a deed is given by an unmarried person, he should be designated in the premises of the deed as _a b_, unmarried. this enables abstractors of titles to determine that a complete transfer of title has been made. otherwise there is nothing to show that _a b_ did not have a wife at the time the transfer was made. in this event, the wife would retain her right of dower. the premises usually contain the date of instrument. sometimes, the date is placed at the end of the instrument. the consideration is also contained in the premises. the consideration of a deed may be either good or valuable. if the grantor receives something of value, as money or an article of value, the consideration is said to be _valuable_. if a parent grants real property to a child or relative and states the consideration to be love and affection, the consideration is adequate, and is known as _good consideration_. the receipt of the consideration is also acknowledged in the premises of a deed. the language by which the grantor conveys the estate, such as "give," "grant," "set over," and "release" is contained in the premises as well as the description of the estate granted. =301. habendum and redendum clauses.= the premises of a deed are followed by the _habendum_ and _redendum_ clauses. the _habendum_ clause describes the estate granted, whether an estate in fee, an estate for life, or an estate for years. it is not necessary to repeat the description of the estate in the _habendum_ clause. the _habendum_ clause usually commences with the words, "to have and to hold." the _redendum_ clause contains any interests or rights retained by the grantor. if the grantor reserves to himself the right to use a certain driveway, he places this reservation in the _redendum_ clause. =302. the conditions, warranties and covenants of a deed.= a warranty deed may not be an absolute transfer of real property, but may be conditional. for example, if the deed is absolute in form, but contains a condition that the transfer is to be of no effect if the grantor pays the grantee a certain sum of money by a certain time, the deed is a conditional one. the conditions above described constitute the deed a mortgage. this class of conditional transfer is discussed in the following chapter. most deeds are without conditions. the next formal part of a warranty deed is the covenant of warranty. the grantor covenants that he is lawfully seized of the estate. this means that the grantor has the legal title and right to possession, which right he conveys to the grantee. the grantor also covenants that the grantee shall have quiet enjoyment of the estate, that the estate is free from incumbrance, and that the grantor and his heirs warrant the title to the estate. =303. the conclusion of a deed.= the conclusion of a deed contains the signature of the grantor and the statement that he has signed and sealed the deed. most states require by statute that a deed must be signed in the presence of two witnesses. the signature and statement of the witnesses to the effect that the deed was signed in their presence is a part of the conclusion. the mere statement that the grantor signs and seals the deed makes it a sealed instrument. seals were originally impressions made in wax affixed to the instrument. a scroll or flourish of the pen was regarded as a seal, but at present a deed is in itself regarded as a sealed instrument, and requires no seal nor substitute therefor. =304. acknowledgment of a deed.= the states of this country require by statute, deeds to be recorded by the public recorder, if parties to the deed desire to give notice of the transfer to third persons. third persons are deemed to have notice of deeds so recorded even though they have no actual notice. for the purpose of having a deed recorded, the grantor must acknowledge his signature before a notary public who adds his statement to that effect to the deed, and signs and seals the same. a quit claim deed contains no warranties nor covenants. it is merely a release of the grantor's interest to the grantee. quiz questions bailment 1. define _bailment_. 2. for whose benefit may bailment be made? 3. distinguish a _bailment_ from a _sale_. 4. give an example of a bailment. 5. name and define the parties to a bailment contract. 6. may an infant enter into a bailment contract? 7. is an infant liable for his torts? 8. classify bailments. 9. give an example of a bailment for the mutual benefit of both bailor and bailee. 10. is a bailment a contract? 11. what is the consideration in a bailment for the sole benefit of the bailor? 12. what party to a bailment contract has possession of the property? 13. is a finder of lost property a bailee? 14. in whom is the title to bailed property? 15. are the title and possession in the same person? 16. may a person not the owner of property bail it? 17. give an example of a bailment for the sole benefit of the bailor. 18. what degree of care is required of a bailee in case the bailment is for the sole benefit of the bailor? 19. give an example of a bailment for the sole benefit of the bailee. 20. what degree of care is required of a bailee in a bailment for his sole benefit? 21. _a_ hires of _b_ an automobile for $3.00 per hour. is the bailment for the sole benefit of the bailor, the bailee, or for the mutual benefit of both parties? 22. in the above example what degree of care is required of _a_? 23. what implied warranties accompany mutual benefit bailments? 24. define and distinguish public and private warehousemen. 25. what are government warehouses? 26. are warehouse receipts negotiable? 27. what degree of care is required of warehousemen? 28. what degrees of care are recognized in bailments? 29. how is the standard for determining degrees of care arrived at? 30. is ordinary care the same in the bailment of different kinds of property? 31. if a third person takes property away from a bailee may the latter recover possession? 32. what are the rights of a person purchasing from a bailee? 33. what is meant by _liens_ on personal property? 34. _a_ leaves his watch with _b_ for repairs. _b_ repairs the watch. can _b_ retain possession until he receives his pay? 35. may a bailee sell property to satisfy his lien? pledges 1. is a pledge a bailment? 2. define a _pledge_. 3. does title to property pledged remain in the pledgor? 4. distinguish _pledge_ from _chattel mortgage_. 5. name and define the parties to a contract of pledge. 6. may an infant pledge property? 7. what kinds of personal property may be pledged? 8. can a person pledge personal property which he expects to purchase? 9. can a person pledge a growing crop? 10. what is the purpose of a contract of pledge? 11. can there be a pledge which is not security for an existing debt? 12. if _a_ delivers possession of personal property to _b_ but does not owe _b_ anything, is the transaction a pledge? if not a pledge, what is the transaction? 13. who has possession of pledged property? 14. does the pledgee have title to property pledged? 15. in case of a chattel mortgage who has title to the mortgaged property? 16. in case of pledge of negotiable instruments, who has title to the instruments? 17. what is meant by _loans on collateral securities_? 18. what is a _collateral note_? 19. by whom are collateral notes commonly used? 20. after payment of the debt for which property is pledged, who is entitled to possession of the pledged property? 21. who is entitled to possession of property pledged before payment of the debt secured? 22. in case of pledge of negotiable instrument who must collect the interest and instrument when due? 23. what degree of care is required of a pledgee in the protection of pledged property? 24. if the pledgor fails to pay the debt when due, what may the pledgee do with the property? 25. in selling pledged property what notice, if any, should the pledgee give the pledgor? 26. what is meant by _foreclosing a lien in equity_? 27. define and explain _redemption_. 28. when may the right of redemption be exercised? mortgages on personal property 1. define _chattel mortgage_. 2. in case of a mortgage of personal property, who has possession of the property? who has title? 3. define _mortgagor_ and _mortgagee_. 5. distinguish _chattel mortgage_ and _sale_. 4. distinguish _chattel mortgage_ and _pledge_. 6. distinguish _pledge_ and _sale_. 7. may _choses in action_ be mortgaged? 8. define and distinguish _choses in action_ and _choses in possession_. may both be mortgaged? 9. what is the purpose of a chattel mortgage? 10. does a chattel mortgage require a consideration? 11. can there be a chattel mortgage without a debt to be secured? 12. must a chattel mortgage be in writing? 13. _a_ mortgages his horse to _b_ to secure a debt of $40.00. _a_ delivers the horse to _b_. the mortgage is oral. is it binding? 14. what is the reason for filing or recording a chattel mortgage? 15. does a chattel mortgage of property, possession of which is given the mortgagee, have to be recorded to be binding? 16. who is entitled to possession of mortgaged personal property? 17. _a_ mortgages his household furniture to _b_, later he stores the furniture with _c_. _c_ acquires a storage keeper's lien. is the latter's lien superior to _b's_? 18. does a mortgagor retain an interest which he may dispose of? 19. does a mortgagee have absolute title to the property mortgaged? 20. if _a_, the mortgagee of personal property, sells the debt secured by the mortgage to _b_, what becomes of the mortgage? 21. when the mortgagor defaults in payment of the secured debt, how may the mortgagee obtain possession of the property? 22. define _equity of redemption_. 23. can a mortgagor enforce his equity of redemption after the mortgagee has obtained possession of the property? 24. can a mortgagee enforce his equity of redemption without paying the mortgage debt? 25. define _foreclosure_. 26. what is the purpose of foreclosure? 27. how is foreclosure enforced? carriers 1. define and give an example of _common carrier_. 2. define and give an example of _private carrier_. 3. what constitutes a person or company a common carrier of goods? 4. is a common carrier of goods obliged to carry goods of all kinds? 5. distinguish _common carrier_ and _private carrier_. 6. what is the exceptional liability of a common carrier, and what is the reason for this liability? 7. if goods intrusted to a common carrier are lost without negligence of the carrier is the latter liable to the owner? 8. is the exceptional liability of an insurer a matter of express or implied contract? 9. what are the exceptions to the liability of a common carrier as an insurer of the goods intrusted to his care? 10. define and give an example of _public enemy_. 11. define and give an example of _act of god_. 12. is a common carrier permitted to limit his common law liability as an insurer of the goods by special contract? 13. is a common carrier permitted to stipulate against the carelessness of his agents or servants? 14. is a common carrier permitted to limit his liability as an insurer of goods by stipulating in the bill of lading issued that the valuation is limited to a certain amount, unless informed otherwise by the shippee? 15. what does the interstate commerce act provide relative to the above question? 16. what is a _bill of lading_?. 17. distinguish bill of lading and shipping receipt. 18. what are the two essential features of a bill of lading? 19. in what sense, if any, is a bill of lading a negotiable instrument? 20. _a_, in cleveland, orders a car of hogs from _b_, in buffalo. _b_ delivers the hogs to the railway company in buffalo, to be shipped to _a_ in cleveland. in whom is the title to the hogs? 21. if _a_ stipulates that the hogs are to be delivered f. o. b. cleveland, in whom is the title to the hogs after they are delivered to the railway company, and before they reach cleveland? 22. what goods, and under what circumstances, is a carrier obliged to accept for shipment? 23. explain the meaning of _stoppage in transitu_. under what circumstances is a shipper permitted to exercise the right? 24. what carriers are obliged to make delivery at the residence or place of business of the consignee, and what carriers are obliged only to deliver at their depots or warehouses? 25. define and explain _carrier's lien_. 26. how may a carrier enforce his lien? 27. why is a common carrier not permitted to discriminate between shippers? 28. when, if at all, is a carrier of mail liable for negligence? 29. is the government liable to an owner of mail for its loss? 30. what are the principal features of the interstate commerce act of 1906? [illustration: entrance to the administration building of the werner company, akron, ohio] carriers of passengers 1. is every person or company carrying passengers for compensation a common carrier? 2. are owners of buildings operating elevators common carriers of passengers? 3. when does a person become a passenger? 4. is a person traveling on a pass a passenger within the legal meaning of the term, passenger? 5. is a public carrier of passengers obliged to accept all who present themselves as passengers? 6. when, and how, may a public carrier eject a passenger? 7. what degree of care is a public carrier of passengers obliged to exercise? 8. what constitutes baggage? 9. what is the liability of a carrier of passengers for loss or injury to baggage? innkeepers 1. must a person represent himself as being ready and willing to furnish both food and lodging to all who desire to become guests, in order to be an innkeeper? 2. are boarding-housekeepers innkeepers? 3. are innkeepers obliged to receive all persons who present themselves as guests if the regular price is tendered? 4. what degree of care in the protection of guests is required of innkeepers? 5. what degree of care is required of innkeepers in the protection of the baggage of guests? 6. what is an _innkeeper's lien_? 7. how may an innkeeper enforce his lien? real property 1. define _real property_. 2. what is included in the term, real property? 3. define and give an example of _hereditament_. 4. define and give an example of _tenement_. 5. are standing trees real or personal property? 6. are trees blown down real or personal property? 7. what is the practical distinction between real and personal property? 8. define _emblements_. 9. do emblements belong to the tenant or to the landlord? 10. are apples emblements? if not, why not? 11. how may a wall become a party wall by prescription? 12. define _fixtures_. 13. are fixtures real or personal property? 14. does the rule as to fixtures differ in case of a tenant, and in case of an owner? 15. do owners of adjoining property own a partition fence jointly or does each one own a particular part of the fence? 16. define and give an example of a _way of necessity_. 17. define and give an example of a _way of convenience_. 18. how are highways ordinarily established? 19. how may a highway be established by prescription? 20. into what classes are estates divided as to the quantity of interest held? 21. what is a _freehold estate_? 22. from what is the term, freehold, derived? 23. define and give an example of an _estate in fee simple_. 24. what is meant by _entailing an estate?_ 25. what was the reason for the practice of entailing estates? 26. to what extent may an estate be entailed in this country? 27. what is the rule against perpetuities? 28. define and give an example of a _life estate_. 29. what claims do life estates embrace? 30. define _estate by the curtesy_. 31. define and give an example of _dower estate_. 32. define and give an example of _homestead estate_. 33. define and give an example of an _estate for years_. 34. is a lease for two months an estate for years? 35. may a holder of an estate for years transfer it? 36. what is meant by _waste_? 37. what is the general rule relating to waste? 38. give an example of an _estate at will_. 39. distinguish an _estate at will_ from an _estate at sufferance_. 40. how may an estate at will be terminated? 41. define and give an example of an _estate in remainder_. 42. distinguish _vested_ and _contingent remainder_. 43. distinguish _estates in reversion_ from _estates in remainder_. 44. how may title to real property be acquired? 45. define _deed_. 46. define _deed poll_. 47. define _indenture_. 48. what are the formal parts of a deed? 49. what things are included in the premises of a deed? 50. what is meant by the _habendum_ and _redendum clause_ of a deed? 51. what is a _warranty of a deed?_ 52. what are the general warranties of a deed? 53. what things are included in the conclusion of a deed? 54. what is meant by the _acknowledgment of a deed?_ [illustration: a corner in the john crerar library, chicago, ill.] commercial law part v mortgages of real estate =305. mortgage defined.= by the common law, a mortgage was an absolute deed of conveyance, by the terms of which the debtor was entitled to receive a reconveyance of the property upon payment of the debt described in the mortgage, or upon performing the conditions for which the mortgage was given. for example, _a_ owes _b_ one thousand dollars, _a_, to secure the debt, gives _b_ an instrument of conveyance of his house and lot, the instrument containing a provision that if _a_ pays _b_ one thousand dollars ($1,000.00) on or before january 1st, 1911, _b_ is to reconvey the house and lot to _a_. the above represents a mortgage at common law. as explained later, a present day mortgage is somewhat different. at common law, the creditor had possession of the property from the time the mortgage was given, unless it was expressly agreed that the debtor was to remain in possession. the real purpose of a mortgage is to give security for a debt or obligation. to permit a creditor to keep the mortgaged property upon default of the debtor to pay the debt when due, is unjust in many cases. for example, if _a_ gives a mortgage to _b_ upon property worth one thousand dollars, to secure a debt of three hundred dollars, and _a_ defaults in payment, it is unjust to permit _b_ to keep the property. courts of equity have for a long time regarded this transaction as a mere security for a debt, and not an absolute transfer of title to property. courts of equity long ago permitted the debtor to file a petition in a court of equity asking that the property be reconveyed to him upon payment of the debt, and damages due the creditor. courts of equity recognize this right of the debtor, which is called _equity of redemption_. at the present time mortgages are, in form, an absolute conveyance of real estate, with a condition that the title is to revest in the debtor, or that the conveyance is to be void and of no effect, if the debtor pays the debt or performs the condition. if the debtor fails to perform this condition at the time stipulated, he is still able to enforce his equity of redemption. this, in effect, makes a mortgage of real estate a mere security for a debt. the creditor is permitted to cut off the debtor's right of redemption by foreclosure, which is discussed under a separate section. =306. parties to a mortgage contract.= a mortgage of real estate is a contract. like any contract, it requires competent parties, a consideration, mutuality, etc. (see _essentials of a contract_, chapter on contracts.) the party conveying the real estate to another as security for the debt is called the _mortgagor_, the party to whom the mortgage is given is called the _mortgagee_. =307. possession of mortgaged property.= originally at common law, the mortgagee was entitled to the possession of the mortgaged premises as soon as the mortgage was given, and before default of the mortgagor to pay the debt described in the mortgage. at the present time, the mortgagor is entitled to possession of the mortgaged premises until after default of payment of the mortgage debt. after default, the mortgagee may take possession of the premises. some states now provide by statute, that the mortgagor shall have possession of the mortgaged premises until he defaults in payment of the mortgage debt. independently of such a statute, the mortgagor has the right to possession of the mortgaged premises before default of payment of the mortgage debt. this is by reason of the fact that the law regards the transaction as a security for a debt rather than an absolute transfer of title. parties are permitted to enter into any contract they choose so long as the provisions are legal. parties to a mortgage may stipulate who is to have possession before default or payment on the part of the mortgagor. if it is stipulated that the mortgagee is to have possession, he is entitled to it under the terms of the mortgage contract. if no stipulation is made, the mortgagor impliedly is given the right of possession before default. =308. deeds as mortgages.= if a deed, absolute on its face, is given by a debtor to a creditor to secure a debt, it will be treated by a court of equity as a mortgage. equity regards the substance of things rather than the form. (see _courts of equity_ under chapter on courts, remedies, and procedure.) courts of equity were originally created for the purpose of granting justice where the rules of the common law failed. in england, they were called _courts of chancery_. a judge sits alone as a court of equity, without the aid of a jury. when there is no remedy at law, and a wrong exists, equity affords a remedy. in this country, the same court frequently sits as a court of equity as well as a court of law. in the case of deeds absolute on their face, if it was the intention of the parties that the conveyance was to constitute a security for a debt, rather than a sale, a court of equity will permit the grantor to secure a return of the property upon payment of his debt. equity looks at the substance of the transaction disregarding the form. if mortgages are not in proper legal form, and either party is not permitted at law to enforce his right, equity will enforce the transaction according to the intention of the parties. informal or incomplete mortgages are called _equitable mortgages_. =309. the debt secured.= a mortgage is a contract, and like any contract, must be supported by a consideration. (see _consideration_, chapter on contracts.) the consideration of a mortgage may be anything of benefit to the one giving the mortgage, or any detriment to the one receiving the mortgage. the consideration of a mortgage ordinarily is an advancement or loan, past or present, made by a mortgagee to the mortgagor. that is, a mortgage is given as security for some debt or obligation in favor of the mortgagee. this debt is usually described in the mortgage as a promissory note. even though no note has been given, if the amount described in the mortgage as a promissory note is the amount of the debt, or if any debt exists, the mortgage is valid. a mortgage may be given to cover future advances, or for a pre-existing indebtedness. if a mortgage is given as security for a promissory note, it will secure all renewals of the note as well. =310. essentials of a mortgage.= a mortgage is an instrument for the conveyance of land. by the provisions of the statute of frauds, such instruments must be in writing to be enforceable. (see _statute of frauds_, chapter on contracts.) the states provide by statute that mortgages must be recorded to be effective as against subsequent innocent purchasers, mortgagees or creditors. mortgages must be in writing for the purpose of recording, as well as to comply with the statute of frauds. when a mortgagee takes possession of the mortgaged premises, this is sufficient notice to creditors and subsequent purchasers of his interests. in this event the mortgage need not be reduced to writing nor recorded. mortgages are usually written in the form of formal deeds. (see _form of deeds_, chapter on real property.) although it is good business practice to follow these well recognized forms in drawing mortgages, an informal instrument describing the parties and the property mortgaged, and showing an intent to make a mortgage is sufficient. some states by statute provide a short statutory form. this form may be used, but does not prevent the common law form from being used. a mortgage is given to secure a debt or obligation. this debt or obligation should be set forth in the mortgage, and the time when it is to be paid or performed should be set forth. the mortgage should also contain a description of the property mortgaged. a complete and accurate description, such as is used by surveyors, is the best form. by this means, a person can locate the property directly from the description given in the mortgage. it is sufficient if the description given enables a person to locate the property either by reference to another record containing a description, or by its own terms. a surveyor's description is better, however. a mortgage should contain the names of the grantor and the grantee. the mortgagor is entitled to his equity of redemption. that is, he is entitled to the right to file a petition in a court of equity, offering to pay the mortgage debt, interest, and damages to the mortgagee, and asking for a return of the property. this may be done at any time before foreclosure by the mortgagee. foreclosure is discussed under a separate section. =311. power of sale and delivery in escrow.= if a mortgagor stipulates in the mortgage that he waives, or will not enforce his equity of redemption, the law does not permit the mortgagee to enforce such a stipulation. it is regarded as against public policy, and illegal. whenever there is a mortgage, there is an equity of redemption in favor of the mortgagor. some mortgages contain a stipulation that in case the mortgagor fails to pay the mortgage debt when due, the mortgagee may sell the property, deduct his claim costs and expenses, and return the balance to the mortgagor. such mortgages are called _power of sale mortgages_. they are valid and enforceable. the mortgagor's equity of redemption is protected, in that he receives the balance of the proceeds of the sale of the mortgaged premises, after the mortgage debt and expenses are paid. the sale, under a power of sale mortgage, must be public and _bona fide_. a mortgage must be signed by the mortgagor. this is called in law, _execution of the mortgage_. the mortgage must also be attested. this means that the signing must be in the presence of a witness or witnesses. this requirement is a statutory one. some states require only one witness, others two. if a mortgage is to be recorded, the signature of the mortgagor must be acknowledged before a notary public or officer authorized to administer oaths. this is called _acknowledgment_. it means that the mortgagor acknowledges the making of the signature in the presence of an officer authorized to administer oaths. the officer writes a certificate of this acknowledgment on the mortgage. acknowledgment is a statutory requirement. a mortgage will not be received for record by the public recorder, unless it has been acknowledged. a mortgage given by a married man must contain a waiver of dower by the mortgagor's wife, or the wife will have a dower estate therein if her husband dies before she dies. the mortgage of a married man should contain a statement that the wife waives her dower interest, and the wife should sign the mortgage before witnesses, and acknowledge her signature. a mortgage, like any written contract, does not become effective until delivered. by _delivery_ is meant giving possession of the instrument to the mortgagee or his agent, with intent that it is to become effective from that date. if a mortgage or written instrument is delivered to a third person to be held for a certain purpose or until a certain time, this is called _delivery in escrow_. =312. what interest in real estate may be mortgaged.= any interest in real estate which is the subject of transfer or sale may be mortgaged. one who has the absolute title, called _fee simple interest_, in real estate may mortgage it. a mortgage is not regarded as a transfer but merely as a security for a debt or obligation. the mortgagor retains an interest called his equity of redemption. for all practical purposes, a mortgage of real estate means that the mortgagee may sell the property mortgaged upon failure of the mortgagor to pay the mortgage debt when due. the mortgagee may keep enough of the proceeds of the sale to satisfy the mortgage debt. the equity of redemption of a mortgagor and the remainder must be returned to the mortgagor, or his right to the proceeds of the sale of mortgaged premises, after the mortgage debt is paid, is an interest which in turn may be mortgaged. a mortgagor may give successive mortgages so long as he finds persons willing to accept them as security. in practice, second and third mortgages on real estate are common. not only may real estate be mortgaged, but anything permanently connected with real estate, such as crops, trees, horses, and buildings. articles of personal property which have become permanently annexed to real estate are called _fixtures_. (see _fixtures_, chapter on real estate.) if title to real estate has been obtained by fraud, a valid mortgage may be given to one who has no notice of the fraud. the principle involved is that a title obtained by fraud or duress is voidable. the party defrauded may obtain a reconveyance of the property as against the party practicing the fraud, but not as against innocent purchasers who have had no notice of the fraud. if, however, a conveyance is attempted by means of a forgery, no title to the property passes to the purchaser, who in turn can convey nothing by mortgage or otherwise. similarly, a party who has conveyed his interest in real estate absolutely, by deed or contract, has nothing left to convey, and cannot give a mortgage. an interest in real estate less than absolute ownership, as a life interest, or a mere lease, or term for years, is an interest which may be mortgaged. =313. recording mortgages.= to be effectual against creditors, subsequent purchasers, and mortgagees, most of the states require by statute, that mortgages be recorded with the public recorder of the county where the property is located. these statutory provisions do not render mortgages ineffectual as between original parties. _a_ gives a mortgage on his house and lot to _b_. _b_ does not have the mortgage recorded. if _a_ fails to pay the mortgage debt when due, _b_ may foreclose. as against _a_, _b's_ mortgage is enforceable without being recorded. if, however, _a_ gives a subsequent mortgage to _c_, and _c_ records his mortgage, _c's_ mortgage is superior to _b's_. if _a_ sells the property to _d_ after mortgaging it to _b_, _b_ not recording the mortgage, _d_, upon having his deed recorded, takes the title free of _b's_ mortgage. if _a_ gives _b_ a mortgage, _b_ not having the mortgage recorded, and _e_ obtains a judgment against _a_ and levies upon the real estate mortgaged to _b_, _e_ obtains a lien superior to _b's_. the statutes of a few states provide that mortgages become effective from the time they are left with the recorder for record. the recorder stamps on the mortgage the time it is left for record, and the mortgage becomes effective from that time. suppose _a_ on the second of february gives a mortgage on his house and lot to _b_, for $500.00, and then on the fifth of february gives a mortgage on his house and lot to _c_ for $500.00. if _c_ has his mortgage recorded february sixth, and _b_ has his mortgage recorded february seventh, _c's_ mortgage is superior to _b's_. in the few states where a mortgage does not become effective until received for record, the one first received for record is superior to others, even though the mortgagee first leaving his mortgage for record takes his mortgage with actual notice of the prior mortgage. the general rule is that one who takes a mortgage with actual notice of other mortgages, takes subject to such mortgages. to be received for record, a mortgage must be acknowledged. this means that the mortgagor must acknowledge the signature to the mortgage before a notary public or officer authorized to administer oaths. the officer makes a certificate of the acknowledgment on the mortgage. =314. transfer of mortgages and mortgaged premises.= while, in form, a mortgage is a transfer of real estate, it is regarded merely as security for a debt. the mortgagee is not permitted to transfer title to the real estate. he is, however, permitted to transfer the interest which he possesses in the mortgaged premises. such a transfer is called an _assignment_. it is a contract of sale by which the mortgagee sells his interest in the mortgage. (see _assignment of contract_, chapter on contracts.) for example, if _a_ mortgages his farm to _b_ as security for a one-thousand-dollar promissory note, _b_ cannot convey title to the property mortgaged, to _c_, but he may sell his interest in the mortgage to _c_. the mortgage cannot be sold separately from the debt secured. the mortgage, separated from the debt, represents nothing of value. if, in the example above given, _b_ endeavors to sell the note to one person, and the mortgage to another, the purchaser of the mortgage takes nothing. a sale of the debt secured by the mortgage, carries with it the mortgage security, unless it is expressly agreed that the debt is transferred without the security of the mortgage. if _a_ mortgages his farm to _b_ to secure a promissory note for one thousand dollars, and _b_ sells the note to _c_, _c_ takes the security of the mortgage as well as the note, unless it is expressly agreed between him and _b_ that the security of the mortgage is not transferred with the note. after _b_ sells _c_ the note, _b_ cannot cancel the mortgage. the mortgage now belongs to _c_. if _a_ mortgages his farm to _b_ to secure two promissory notes of $500.00 each, and _b_ sells one of the notes to _c_, in the absence of an agreement to the contrary, _c_ has one-half interest in the mortgage as security for his note. _b_ may, however, expressly stipulate in the sale of his note to _c_, that _b_ is to retain the entire mortgage security for his own note. when a debt secured by a mortgage is assigned, the assignee should immediately notify the mortgagor of the assignment, in order that the mortgagee shall pay him, and not the assignor. this is the safe policy to follow, although technically, the mortgagor before paying the mortgage debt should be sure that the mortgagee is still the owner of the note, debt, or other obligation, secured by the mortgage. a mortgagor is permitted to sell his interest in the mortgaged premises before satisfying the mortgage. he may sell his equity of redemption, or he may sell in such a manner that the purchaser assumes the mortgage. if the mortgagor sells the mortgaged premises, the purchaser agreeing to assume the mortgage as between the mortgagor and the purchaser, the purchaser must pay the mortgage. the mortgagee, however, is not bound by this agreement. he may disregard it. he may accept the benefit of it if he chooses and sue the purchaser on this contract. (see _contract for the benefit of third persons_, chapter on contracts.) if, however, the mortgagee agrees to accept the purchaser of the mortgagor's interest as the debtor, the original mortgagor is relieved thereby. =315. satisfaction of mortgages.= a mortgage is given as security for a debt or obligation. it is satisfied by payment of the debt, or fulfillment of the obligation. the mortgage debt may be paid by the mortgagor himself, by a purchaser of the mortgagor's interest, by a subsequent mortgagee, or by any one having an interest in the real estate mortgaged. if anyone, other than the mortgagor, pays the mortgage debt to protect his own interest, he is thereby entitled to the benefit of the mortgage. this is called _subrogation_. if _a_ owes _b_ $5,000.00, and gives _b_ a note for that amount, secured by a real estate mortgage on a farm, _c_ signing the note as surety or guarantor, in case _c_ pays the note upon default of _a_, _c_ is entitled to _b's_ benefit in the mortgage. payment of a mortgage debt may be made to a mortgagee, himself, his assignee of the mortgage debt, or any agent or authorized representative of the mortgagee. a party not having an interest in the land cannot voluntarily pay a mortgage debt, and claim the benefit of a mortgage by subrogation. a party interested in the land, even the mortgagor, himself, cannot compel the mortgagee to accept payment before the mortgage debt is due. upon payment of a mortgage debt, the title to the mortgaged premises by this act becomes absolute in the mortgagor. at common law, if the mortgagor paid the mortgage debt when due, the mortgagee had to reconvey by deed the mortgaged premises to the mortgagor to give the latter title. but at the present time, a mortgage is not regarded as a conveyance of title, but merely as a security for a debt, the title vesting absolutely in the mortgagor any time he pays the debt before the actual foreclosure of this right by the mortgagee. when the mortgagor pays the mortgage debt, he is entitled to a written satisfaction of the debt. this is a mere written statement that the mortgage is satisfied, signed by the mortgagee. the mortgagor is thus enabled to have the mortgage cancelled of record, which gives the public notice that the mortgage is no longer effective. the mortgagor presents his written statement of satisfaction to the public recorder, who enters it in his record of the mortgage. =316. equity of redemption.= a mortgagor does not lose his interest in the mortgaged property by failure to pay the mortgage debt when due. courts of equity regard a mortgage as a security for a debt, and not a transfer of real property. even though the mortgagor fails to pay the mortgage debt when due, and in spite of the fact that the mortgage purports to be a transfer of real estate, conditioned only on the payment of the debt described, equity refuses to regard the transaction as a sale, and permits the mortgagor to recover the property by paying the debt, interest, and expenses connected with the mortgage, at any time before the statute of limitations cuts him off. the states have statutes requiring suits of different kinds to be brought within certain periods. these statutes vary somewhat in the different states. most states require an action by which a mortgagor enforces his equity of redemption, to be brought in about twenty or twenty-one years after the debt becomes due. the mortgagor himself or anyone to whom he transfers, or who acquires his interest, is entitled to the equity of redemption. if _a_ mortgages his farm to _b_, to secure a promissory note of one thousand dollars due in one year, _a_ does not lose his right to the property by failure to pay the note when due. he may bring a suit in equity at any time, usually within twenty-one years, after the note becomes due, offering to pay the mortgage debt, interest, and costs, and asking for a return of the property. equity now gives the mortgagee a right to cut off the mortgagor's right of redemption by foreclosure. this is discussed in the following section. =317. foreclosure of mortgages.= a mortgagor has the right to redeem the property at any time within the statute of limitations, after the mortgage debt becomes due. the mortgagee does not have to wait the pleasure of the mortgagor to redeem or abandon the right. equity gives the mortgagee the right to cut off the mortgagor's equity of redemption by foreclosure. by foreclosure is meant the mortgagee's right to file a petition in a court of equity asking that the property be sold, and that from the proceeds, the amount of the mortgage debt and costs first be paid, and that the balance be paid the mortgagor. the court orders the property advertised and sold, and the proceeds distributed as above described. some mortgages contain a stipulation concerning foreclosure. these mortgages are called _power of sale mortgages_. it is stipulated that when the mortgagor is in default of payment, the mortgagee may advertise and sell the property, deducting from the proceeds the mortgage debt, interest, and expenses, and paying the balance to the mortgagor. these power of sale mortgages are enforceable. the sale must be free from fraud, public, and the mortgagee cannot become a purchaser unless so stipulated in the mortgage, or so provided by statute. the states usually provide by statute a method of foreclosure. these statutes frequently provide that a mortgagee may enforce his mortgage, and obtain a judgment against the mortgagee on the mortgage debt in the same action. if the mortgaged premises do not bring enough to satisfy the judgment, the balance may be enforced against the mortgagor by seizing any property subject to execution that he possesses. trusts =318. defined and classified.= in a popular sense, the term, _trust_, is often used to designate combinations of capital or combinations among business men for the purpose of destroying competition, or for the purpose of regulating prices. this is not the meaning of the term as used in this chapter. it is here used to mean an estate of some kind held for the benefit of another. a trust has been defined to be "an obligation upon a person, arising out of a confidence reposed in him, to apply property faithfully according to such confidence." _a_, by will, appoints _b_ trustee of his farm, for the benefit of _c_. upon _a's_ death, if _b_ accepts the duty imposed upon him by the will, a trust is thereby created in which _b_ holds the legal title to the farm, for the benefit of _c_. trusts are sometimes classified as _general_ and _special_. if the property is conveyed by deed or will to another to be held in trust for a third person, without specifying any of the duties of the second person, it is said to be a general or simple trust. if, however, the duties of the second person or trustee are defined, the trust is called a special trust. a trust for the benefit of an individual or individuals is called a _private_ trust, while one for the benefit of a public institution, or for the public, is a _public_ trust. if _a_ gives his property to _b_ to care for the poor of the city of chicago, the trust is public. as to their method of creation, trusts are usually divided into _express_, _implied_, _resulting_ and _constructive_ trusts. =319. parties to trusts.= the party creating a trust is called the _grantor_ or _settlor_. the party to whom the title to the property is given to hold for the benefit of another is called the _trustee_. the party for whose benefit the trust is created is called the _cestui que trust_. if the beneficiaries are more than one in number, they are termed _cestui que trust_. if _a_ deeds his land to _b_ for the benefit of _c_, _a_ is the settlor, _b_ is the trustee, and _c_ is the _cestui que trust_. =320. who may be parties to a trust.= persons of lawful age, and competent to make contracts, including corporations, may create trusts. any person competent to make contracts, including corporations, may act as trustee. even infants (persons under legal age) may act as trustees if the duties require the exercise of no discretion. an infant may hold the legal title as trustee, and if the duties require the exercise of discretion, the court will remove him or appoint a guardian to perform his duties. anyone capable of holding the legal title to property may be a _cestui que trust_. this includes corporations, aliens, and, in case of charitable trusts, infants. any kind of property, whether real or personal, may be given in trust. this includes lands, chattel property, promissory notes, accounts, and kindred property rights, regardless of where the property is located. =321. express trusts.= an _express trust_ is one created by the express written or oral declaration of the grantor. if _a_ gives a deed of his farm to _b_, by the terms of which _b_ is to hold the farm in trust for _c_, _a_, the grantor, has created an express trust in favor of _c_, _b_ as trustee holds the legal title to the farm, and _c_, as _cestui que trust_ or beneficiary, holds the beneficial or equitable interest. _a_, before giving the deed of trust, was the absolute owner of the farm. that is, _a_ held the legal title and the equitable interest in the farm. by creating the trust, he placed the legal title in one person and the equitable or beneficial interest in another. originally, in england, at common law, trusts could be created by oral declaration as well as by written instruments. at that time, land could be transferred without written instruments. the seller took the buyer on to the land to be conveyed, and in the presence of witnesses delivered to him a symbol of the land, such as a piece of turf or a twig. about 1676, the statute of frauds was passed by the english parliament, requiring among other things, that conveyances of lands, including the creation of trusts therein, must be by written instruments. this provision of the statute of frauds has been re-enacted by most of the states of this country. at the present time, trusts in real estate must generally be created by written instrument. trusts may be created by will to take effect at the grantor's death. trusts may be created in personal property. except when created by will, trusts in personal property may be created by oral declaration of the grantor. a grantor may create a trust voluntarily. if actually carried out, or if the grantor's intention to create the trust is expressed as final, it requires no consideration to support it. if the declaration of trust amounts to a mere agreement to create a trust, and is not carried out, it requires a consideration to enable the beneficiary to compel its execution. after an express trust is completed, it cannot be revoked by mutual agreement between the grantor and trustee without the consent of the _cestui que trust_. [illustration: the assembling department in the comptometer factory, chicago felt & tarrant mfg. co.] the most common forms of express trusts are created by deed, by will, or by contract. any declaration of the grantor, no matter how informal, if expressing his intention to create a trust, is sufficient to create a trust. a trust cannot be created for an immoral or illegal purpose. =322. implied trusts.= when a person by deed or will does not use language expressly creating a trust, but uses language showing his intention to create a trust, one will be implied. such a trust is known in law as an _implied trust_, as distinguished from an _express trust_. if _a_ devises all his property to his son, _b_, the will containing the following language: "i request my son, _b_, to pay his cousin, _c_, $10.00 per month during his life," this language is held to create a trust in favor of _c_, wherein _b_ is trustee. =323. resulting trusts.= one party may so conduct himself, or so deal with another, that a court will declare the transaction to be a trust, even in the absence of any express declaration, or of an intention on the part of the parties to create a trust. such a trust is known in law as a _resulting trust_. _j_, to avoid paying his creditors, purchases property in the name of his wife, _k_. _k_ is a trustee for her husband, _j_, and creditors can by suit in equity subject _j's_ interest in the property. if _a_ purchases property, and takes the deed in the name of _b_, _b_ is trustee for _a_. _b_ is the legal owner, and _a_ is the beneficial or equitable owner. if a third person purchases the property from _b_, without notice of _a's_ rights, and for value, the third person takes good title to the property free from _a's_ claim. in this country, the states generally require by statute, that deeds and mortgages of real estate must be recorded. if an equitable owner does not have a properly recorded written instrument showing his interest in the real estate in question, thereby giving future purchasers notice of his interest, he cannot complain unless the third person has actual notice of his rights or purchases without giving a valuable consideration. a resulting trust is not created by agreement or contract to that effect, but is created by the trustee using money or funds of the _cestui que trust_ in the purchase of property in his own name. =324. constructive trusts.= if one person is in a confidential relation to another, and misappropriates the money of the other, this act is said to create a _constructive trust_, in which the defrauding party is trustee, and the defrauded party is beneficiary, or _cestui que trust_. a constructive trust differs from a resulting trust in that the former involves fraud on the part of the trustee, exercised on the _cestui que trust_, while a resulting trust never involves fraud between the trustee and _cestui que trust_, although created for the purpose of defrauding third persons. if _a_, an attorney, is employed by _b_ to collect a note of $500.00, and fraudulently reports a collection of $300.00, keeping $200.00, a constructive trust results, in which _a_ is trustee for _b_, for $200.00. if _a_, for the purpose of defrauding his creditors, deposits his money in bank in _b's_ name, a resulting trust arises in which _b_ is trustee for _a_, and _a's_ creditors can subject the property. anyone defrauding another by duress, by taking advantage of old age or of mental weakness, or by fraud, becomes the trustee for the wronged party in the amount the latter has lost. =325. rights and liabilities of trustee.= a trustee of an express trust need not accept the trust against his will. if _a_ by deed, will, or written declaration, names _b_ as trustee of certain property for _c_, _b_ need not accept unless he so desires. if _b_ refuses to act as trustee, the trust does not fail by reason thereof. a court may appoint another trustee or may itself administer the trust. after accepting a trust, a trustee cannot resign without the consent of the _cestui_. he may be removed by the court for misconduct, or he may transfer his duties, if so stipulated in the instrument creating the trust. in england during the reign of henry viii, a statute was passed called the _statute of uses_, declaring that real property given to one person and his heirs in trust for another and his heirs, should vest the legal title in the trustee. thus, if _a_ gives real estate to _b_ and his heirs in trust for _c_ and his heirs, _c_ takes the legal title. the statute of uses is in force in most of the states of this country. it does not apply to personal property, and if the trustee is given some duties, such as to collect rents, or to do anything except to hold the legal title as trustee, the case is not within the statute of uses, and the trust will be carried out. a trustee holds the legal title to the trust estate. suits against the estate must be brought against him as trustee, and suits for the protection of the estate must be brought by him as trustee. a trustee has the right to possession of all personal property covered by the trust, and to possession of the real property, if necessary to execute the terms of his trust. a trustee must protect the estate and perform his duties with care, or be liable to the beneficiary for any damages resulting. he is not permitted to make any profit out of his office. any profit made by him through his connection with the trust estate belongs to the beneficiary. =326. rights and liabilities of beneficiary.= a _cestui que trust_ has the right to receive the benefits of the trust estate as outlined in the instrument creating the trust. if the trustee fails properly to perform his duties, the _cestui que trust_ may bring legal action to have him removed. a trustee has legal title to the trust property, and may convey good title to one who purchases for value, and without notice of the trust. the _cestui que trust_ can follow and regain trust funds or property, if the latter are conveyed to persons not _bona fide_ purchasers. landlord and tenant =327. in general.= the term, _landlord and tenant_, is applied to the relation existing between one who obtains the right to the possession of the real property of another, under a contract by the terms of which the title or ultimate right to possession, or at least some interest in the property, remains in the grantor. the relation existing between landlord and tenant is contractual. like all contracts, there must be a consideration, competent parties, and legality of purpose. the contract by which one party becomes a tenant is called a _lease_. the party granting a lease is called the _landlord_. the owner to whom the lease is given is called the _tenant_ or _lessee_. a lease of property is not a sale. by a lease of real property, the lessor grants but a portion of what he possesses. by making a sale of real property, the grantor transfers his entire interest. if a tenant transfers his entire interest in the lease, it is a sale, and is usually called an _assignment_. if a tenant sublets a portion of his interest in the lease, he, himself, becomes a landlord, and the sublessee becomes a tenant. =328. rights of a tenant.= the form and contents of a lease are discussed under a separate section. parties to a lease may agree to any terms they choose, if the terms are legal. in the absence of express stipulations in a lease, many things are implied. a tenant is entitled to the possession and use of the premises leased, from the time mentioned in the lease for it to take effect. by possession is meant the right to take actual possession of the premises without being prevented by one having a right superior to that of the tenant. a tenant is permitted to rent any premises he chooses. a landlord, on the other hand, may lease to a tenant any premises he possesses. there is no implied warranty on the part of the landlord that premises leased are in good condition, or that they are fit for any particular purpose. the tenant makes his own bargain, and, as in the case of making a purchase of goods, or in making any contract, he must take care of his own interests. the tenant may stipulate in the lease that the premises are to be in a certain condition, that they are adapted to a certain purpose. in this event, the tenant is not obliged to accept the premises if they do not comply with the terms of the lease, or he may bring an action for damages against the landlord for not complying with the terms of the lease. in the absence of any express stipulation as to the condition of the premises, or their suitableness for the purpose for which they are to be used, the law implies nothing. a landlord is not permitted to defraud a tenant. he cannot conceal or misrepresent material facts relating to the lease. if there is a misrepresentation of a material fact by the landlord, which is relied upon by the tenant to the latter's injury, the tenant has been defrauded. he may refuse to accept the property, or he may repudiate the lease as soon as he discovers the fraud. a tenant impliedly has the right to quiet enjoyment of the premises leased. the landlord must not disturb the tenant's right to quiet possession. if the landlord, himself, or one who legally claims a right to possession of the premises disturbs the tenant's possession, the latter may sue the landlord for damages. if a mere trespasser or one who wrongfully claims the right, disturbs the possession or quiet enjoyment of the tenant, the landlord is not liable. the acts of strangers are beyond his control. the tenant may use the premises for the purposes stipulated in the lease. in the absence of express stipulation, he may use the premises for the purpose and in the manner in which the property leased is customarily used. =329. taxes, repairs, and insurance.= the general rule is, that in the absence of express stipulation in the lease to the contrary, all taxes are to be paid by the landlord. even though the lease provides that the tenant is to pay all taxes, this does not include special assessments, such as assessments for city paving and sewers. water rent is not included in the general term, _taxes_. the landlord is obliged to pay all taxes on the property unless the tenant expressly assumes them. in the absence of any express stipulation, the tenant must pay water-rent. there is no implied duty on the part of the tenant to insure the property leased. a tenant is, in the absence of any express stipulation, required to keep the property in repair. he is not liable for ordinary wear and tear of the property, but must make ordinary repairs at his own expense. if the property is destroyed by fire without the fault of the tenant, the tenant is not liable for the loss. he is not obliged to rebuild the property destroyed. the lease is ended by the destruction of the property by fire, and the tenant is not obliged to pay further rent. the above is the rule fixed by statute in most states. the common law rule was that a tenant was not relieved from paying rent by the destruction of the building by fire. =330. liability for injuries arising from condition of leased premises.= in the absence of any stipulation in the lease relative to the condition of the premises leased, the tenant is presumed to make the lease on his own judgment. there is no implied duty on the part of the landlord to deliver the premises in any particular condition. this rule is subject to the limitation that a landlord is not permitted to deliver possession of premises containing latent defects of such a character as would be liable to cause injury to a tenant. if injury results from such latent defects, the landlord is liable in damages to the tenant. as a rule, however, the tenant takes the premises as they are, and if injury results to himself by reason of apparent defects in the premises, he has no right of action against the landlord. the tenant has control of the premises. if persons are injured by reason of accummulations of snow or ice on the walks, the tenant, and not the landlord, is liable therefor. =331. rent.= the compensation given by a tenant to a landlord for the use of leased premises is called _rent_. a tenant may become liable for rent without any express agreement to that effect. if one person, with the consent of another, occupies the premises of the latter as a tenant, he is liable to pay the reasonable value of such occupancy, as rent. this obligation is implied from the relation of landlord and tenant existing between the parties. ordinarily, the matter of rent is expressly agreed upon and, until the tenant is evicted, his lease surrendered, or he is released, he is obliged to pay the landlord rent. the tenant's liability to pay rent does not necessarily depend upon actual occupancy of the leased premises. he may rent the premises for the use of another, or he may, without excuse, refuse to accept possession of the premises. in either event, he is liable for rent. if the lease expressly stipulates that the premises are in a certain condition as to plumbing, etc., the tenant may refuse to accept the possession if the conditions are not fulfilled. if, on the other hand, the tenant leases premises, nothing being said about their condition, the tenant is presumed to rely upon his own judgment, and the fact that the premises are uninhabitable by reason of defective plumbing, by reason of unhealthful conditions, or for any reason, does not release him from his contract. he is liable to pay the rent agreed upon. the landlord is not permitted to defraud the tenant. he cannot mislead the tenant by false or fraudulent representations. fraud enables a tenant to avoid a lease. if a tenant refuses to accept possession of premises leased, or abandons the premises without excuse, he is still liable for the rent for the balance of the term. if he surrenders the lease, and the landlord consents to the surrender, the tenant is relieved from further liability. but a voluntary abandonment by the tenant, not consented to by the landlord, does not relieve the tenant from liability to pay rent. if a tenant abandons the premises leased, the landlord may permit the premises to remain vacant and compel the tenant to pay the balance of the rent when it is due under the lease. the landlord may, on the other hand, accept the premises, and cancel the remainder of the lease. again, the landlord may take possession of the premises and relet them for the benefit of the tenant, notifying the tenant of his intention. he may collect any deficiency in the rent from the original tenant. for example, if _a_ rents _b's_ house for one year for $300.00 and at the expiration of six months _a_ abandons the premises, _b_ may relet the premises to _c_ for _a's_ benefit. if _b_ relets for _a's_ benefit, he must obtain the best terms possible. if he obtains only $100.00 rent from _c_ for the balance of the term, he can collect $50.00 from _a_. =332. distress.= at common law, a landlord had the right to take possession of the personal property of a tenant who was in arrears for rent, and hold the personal property until the rent was paid. this remedy is known as _distress_. when a landlord makes use of this remedy he is said to _distrain for rent_. a landlord cannot deprive the tenant of possession, and then distrain for rent. it is not an action against the tenant personally, as an action for debt. it is a mere right of a landlord to take possession of the tenant's personal property after rent is due, and while the tenant is still in possession of the leased property as tenant. the landlord may retain possession of his property as security for the rent. at common law, a landlord could not sell the property, but could hold it as security for the rent. at the present time, the right to distrain for rent is not recognized by many states. where recognized, it is regulated largely by statute. the landlord is usually required to give bond, and file an affidavit with a court to the effect that the rent of a certain amount is justly due. the property is then seized by an officer of the court, and upon final termination of the case, may be sold, and the proceeds applied to the payment of the rent. this action is now treated in the nature of an attachment. (see _attachment_, chapter on courts and legal remedies.) the remedies of a landlord commonly recognized at the present time are actions for rent, and actions to recover possession of the premises. these remedies are discussed under a separate section. =333. leases.= _lease_ is the term applied to the agreement by which one person becomes a tenant, and another a landlord. leases are usually in the form of formal written instruments in which the rights and duties of the parties are quite fully set forth. no particular form of language is required to make a valid lease. if the agreement shows an intention on the part of the parties to create the relation of landlord and tenant, it is sufficient to constitute a lease. parties may make oral leases covering short periods of time. most of the states provide by statute that leases beyond certain periods must be in writing to be enforceable. this period varies in the different states. some require leases in excess of three years to be in writing; others fix the limit at one year. some of the statutes which do not specially require leases to be in writing, make them void as against purchasers or incumbrances if not recorded. such statutes in effect require the lease to be in writing. a lease does not require a seal. by statute, most states require leases to be witnessed, usually by two witnesses, and acknowledged before a notary public. witnessing is called _attesting_, or _attestation_. by _acknowledgment_ is meant an admission of the signature by the parties to a lease before a notary public. the notary writes his certificate upon the lease, stating that the parties acknowledged the signature in his presence. the notary signs and seals the certificate of acknowledgment. the states generally require by statute that leases beyond a certain time, usually one or more years, be recorded with the public recorder of the county where the property leased is located, to be effectual as against subsequent purchasers or incumbrances. certain requisites are recognized in formal lease. the names and description of the parties, the terms of the lease, the description of the property, the signing, delivery, and acceptance of the lease, and the witnessing and acknowledging are regarded as essential features. _covenants_ are express or implied terms of a lease. if parties expressly agree to do certain things enumerated and set forth in the lease, the covenant is said to be _express_. the law implies certain obligations on the part of the parties to a lease. there is an _implied_ covenant on the part of the tenant to pay rent, and to make all ordinary repairs subject to the reasonable wear and tear of the premises. the landlord impliedly consents to give the tenant quiet enjoyment, and to pay taxes and assessments. =334. transfer of leases.= a landlord may transfer his interest in a lease. a tenant may, unless the lease stipulates otherwise, transfer his interest in a lease. a transfer of an interest or right in which a third person, not a party to the transfer, has an interest is usually called an _assignment_. for example, _a_ owes _b_ $100.00, _b_ may assign his claim to _c_. by notifying _a_ of the assignment, _a_ is obliged to pay _c_, instead of _b_. any defense that _a_ has against _b_ is available against _c_. as a rule, partial interests cannot be assigned so as to be binding upon the obligor, without the latter's consent. if _a_ owes _b_ $100.00 _b_ cannot assign $10.00 of this claim to ten different parties. this would compel _a_ to pay ten different persons, while the original obligation bound him to pay but one. _a_ may have a counter claim amounting to $50.00. to obtain the benefit of this counter claim, he would have to set it up in five different suits, whereas if the claim were sued by the original owner, or by one owner he would have to make a defense in but one suit. an assignment may be made orally, if not in conflict with the provisions of the statute of frauds. it may be made by written contract. no particular language is required to make a valid assignment. any words expressing the intention of one party to make an assignment, accepted by the one to whom the assignment is to be made, is sufficient. a landlord may assign a lease. upon receipt of notice of the assignment from the landlord or the assignee, the tenant must pay to the assignee the rent subsequently coming due. if an assignment is made by a landlord, and no notice is given the tenant, the latter discharges his liability under the lease by paying the original landlord. originally at common law, a landlord could not assign his rights without the consent of the tenant. the tenant could not be compelled to recognize a new landlord. recognition of a new landlord was called _attornment_. a tenant may assign his interest in a lease if the lease does not expressly provide otherwise. this does not relieve the tenant from liability under the lease, even though the landlord consents to the assignment, and accepts rent from the assignee. the original tenant is a surety for the rent. after an assignment of a lease by the tenant, the landlord, if he does not expressly release the original tenant, may collect the rent from either party. =335. leases for years.= a _lease for years_ is a lease for a definite and ascertained period of time. if _a_ rents _b's_ farm for five years commencing june 1, 1910, the lease is for years. if _a_ leases _b's_ house for a year, a month, or a week, to commence on a certain date, the time of the lease is definite and ascertained and constitutes a lease for years. if _a_ rents _b's_ house for a year commencing june 23, 1910, at $25.00 per month, the rent to be monthly in advance, the lease is one for years. the fact that the rent is to be paid in installments does not render the lease one from month to month. a lease is regarded as personal property and, while it is an interest in real property, it is usually called a chattel real, and is treated as personal property. when the owner of a lease dies, the lease is personal property in the hands of the executor or administrator of the owner, and does not descend to the heirs of the owner as real property. in some states, long time leases, such as leases for ninety-nine years, are by statute made real property. the practical distinction between leases for years and leases from month to month, is that in the former, the lease ends when the time covered by it expires. in a lease from month to month, a new lease is created by implication, if a tenant is permitted to hold over. this question is discussed more at length under the section, _tenancies from year to year_. =336. subletting.= some states by statute refuse to permit a tenant to sublet any portion of his lease, without the consent of the landlord. a landlord may stipulate in his lease that a tenant shall not sublet any portion of the premises. in the absence of statutory provisions, or stipulations in the lease, a tenant may sublet the leased premises. a transfer by a tenant of an interest in the leased premises may be an assignment, or it may be a sublease. an assignment is a transfer by a tenant of his entire interest in the premises. if _a_ rents _b's_ farm for five years, and sells his lease for five years to _c_, the transfer is an assignment. a transfer of only a portion of a tenant's interest is a sublease. if _a_ rents _b's_ farm for five years, and leases the farm for three years to _c_, the transfer is an assignment. if _a_ leases the farm to _c_ for five years, the transaction is a sublease. an assignment is a transfer of the tenant's entire interest in the leased premises. a sublease is a transfer of a part of a tenant's interest in the leased premises. a tenant may mortgage his interest in the leased premises. a creditor of a tenant may levy upon the lease in satisfaction of a judgment, the same as upon any article of personal property. the purpose of the statute and stipulations in a lease, forbidding a tenant to sublet the leased premises, is for the protection of the original lessor. a subtenant is not permitted to avoid a lease on the ground of such a statutory provision, or by reason of such a stipulation in a lease. for example, if _a_ rents _b's_ farm for five years, and the lease contains a stipulation that _a_ cannot sublet, if _a_ sublets the farm for three years to _c_, _c_ cannot avoid the obligation to _a_ by reason of the stipulation in the lease. the stipulation is a privilege in favor of _b_. it may be exercised by _b_ if he chooses to avail himself of the privilege. he may waive the privilege, or refuse or neglect to exercise his right. neither _c_ nor anyone else can avail himself of this privilege. it is sometimes quite difficult to tell just what constitutes a subletting in violation of a statutory provision or a provision in the lease. mere privileges granted to others do not constitute sublettings. permission granted a neighbor to use a barn for a short period, or taking roomers by the week, has been held not to constitute a subletting. if a tenant in violation of his lease sublets a part of the premises, the original lessor may eject the sublessee, and sue the tenant for damage for breach of contract. if a tenant exercise his right of subletting a part of the premises, he is not thereby relieved from his responsibility to pay rent under the lease. even though the tenant agrees to accept rent from the sublessee, and apply the same on the obligation of the original lessee, this does not relieve the original tenant from his obligation to pay rent. for example, if _a_ rents _b's_ house and lot for three years for $25.00 per month, payable monthly in advance, and _b_ agrees to accept the rent from _c_, and does accept payments from _c_, this does not relieve _a_ from liability to pay _b_ the rent. _a_ is a surety, and his obligation to pay the rent to _b_ is the same as the obligation of _c_. if _b_ expressly agrees to relieve _a_ and to accept _c_ in place of _a_, he can no longer hold _a_. =337. tenancies at will and at sufferance.= a lease may be entered into, the terms of which may be terminated at the will of either party. it is for an indefinite period. such a lease creates a _tenancy at will_. (see _estates at will_, chapter on real property.) tenancies at will are uncommon. the usual tenancies are tenancies for years and tenancies from year to year. if _a_ permits _b_ to take possession of, and to occupy his house under an agreement that either he or _b_ may terminate the lease at the desire of either party, the tenancy is one at will. _b_ may agree to pay rent at the rate of $10.00 per week, $40.00 per month or $500.00 a year, or at any rate, without affecting the estate at will. if the estate is for an indefinite period, but is terminable at the wish of either party, no matter what the arrangement for paying the rent, it is an estate at will, as distinguished from an estate for years, and an estate from year to year. it is sometimes held that a person who holds over with the consent of the landlord after the termination of a lease for a definite period, called _an estate for years_, is a tenant at will. for example, if _a_ rents _b's_ house for one year, and at the expiration of the year, _a_ with _b's_ consent retains possession, _a_ is a tenant at will. the tenancy may be terminated at the desire of either party, and upon notice by either party. in most jurisdictions, however, this constitutes _a_ a tenant from year to year. (see following section.) a _tenancy at sufferance_ is created by a tenant unlawfully retaining possession of the premises after the termination of his lease, without the consent of the landlord. if _a_ rents _b's_ house for one year, and at the expiration of the year _a_, without _b's_ consent retains possession of the house, he is a tenant at sufferance. he is a trespasser, and may be ejected by _b_. tenancies at will and at sufferance are estates in land. they are also discussed under the chapter on real property. =338. tenancies from year to year.= a tenancy may be created for a definite period of time to continue for similar periods unless terminated by notice of either party. such a tenancy is called a _tenancy for years_. the tenancy may involve any definite period with the understanding that it is to continue for similar periods if not terminated by notice of the landlord or tenant. while the estate is called an estate from year to year, or a tenancy from year to year, it may be for a week, a month, a year, or a series of years, or for any definite period. if _a_ rents _b's_ house for one year, the rent to be paid at the rate of $30.00 per month, payable monthly in advance, the lease to continue for yearly periods unless either _a_ or _b_ notifies the other to the contrary, the tenancy is from year to year. if, at the expiration of the year, _a_ retains possession of the premises, having received no notice from _b_ to leave, _a_ has a lease for another year under the same terms, and so on, for succeeding years. the period may be a week, or a month, as well as a year. sometimes leases are spoken of as leases from month to month, or from week to week, in case the lease is to continue for a month, or a week. the same principle is involved as in leases from year to year. if the tenant holds over after the expiration of the week or month, he has a lease for a similar period at the same terms. a tenancy for years may be created by express or by implied contract. it is sometimes difficult to tell whether a tenancy is for years, from year to year, or at will. if a lease specifies that it is to cover a definite period only, it is a lease for years, and terminates at the expiration of that period. if the lease stipulates that it is to cover a definite period, and continue for similar periods unless either party terminates it by notice to the other, it is a lease from year to year. if the lease stipulates that it can be terminated at the will of either party, it is a lease at will. when the lease is oral, or created by implication, the intention of the parties must determine the nature of the lease. some difficulty arises in determining whether a lease is one at will, or from year to year when a tenant for years is permitted to hold over with the consent of his landlord. for example, if _a_ rents _b's_ farm for one year, and is permitted by _b_ to remain in possession after the expiration of the year, in theory, _a_ is a mere tenant at will, and can be ejected at the will of _b_. this is the law in a few jurisdictions. most jurisdictions, however, hold that _a_, when permitted to hold over by _b's_ consent, becomes a tenant from year to year. =339. termination of leases.= a lease for years is terminated by expiration of the period covered by the lease. the lease may contain covenants, breach of which may by stipulation constitute a ground of forfeiture. for example, a lease may contain a stipulation that the landlord may declare a forfeiture in case the tenant fails to pay the rent when it is due. if the tenant commits a breach of this or any other covenant made by special stipulation, a ground of forfeiture, the landlord may by notice declare the lease forfeited. this renders the balance of the lease void. leases for years, definite periods of time, require no notice to terminate. leases at will, and from year to year require notice on the part of the party seeking their termination to be given to the other party. for example, suppose _a_ rents _b's_ house for one year, to continue for similar periods if agreeable to both parties. to terminate the lease at the end of the year, _b_ must notify _a_ to quit the premises at the expiration of the year. if _a_, on the other hand, desires to terminate the lease at the expiration of a year, he must notify _b_ previous to the expiration of the year, of his intention to terminate the lease at the expiration of the year. if _a_ holds over without notice to _b_, or without _b's_ consent, _a_ has a lease for another year at the same terms as before. to terminate a lease from year to year or at will, the party seeking the termination of the lease must notify the other party of his intention to terminate the lease. the states generally provide by statute the time and manner of giving such notice. in general, the notice must be in writing and must be served on the interested parties or their agents a reasonable time before the expiration of the period of the lease. a lease may be terminated by a subsequent agreement between the parties. this is commonly known as a _surrender_. a surrender is a release of possession of the premises by the tenant, and an acceptance by the landlord. a mere abandonment of possession by a tenant without the express or implied acceptance or assent of the landlord is not a surrender. such an abandonment might constitute a breach of contract on the part of the tenant, but it requires the assent of the landlord to terminate the lease. if _a_ rents a farm for three years at $500.00 a year, and at the expiration of two years agrees to pay _b_ $100.00 to cancel the lease, and _b_ accepts, the transaction constitutes a surrender, and terminates the lease. if _a_ merely abandons the premises without the consent of _b_, the lease still exists. _b_ can collect the rent for the remaining period covered by the lease. if _a_ abandons the premises, and notifies _b_ that he will not carry out the lease, _b_ may refuse to accept the breach, permit the premises to remain vacant, and collect the rent from _b_. _b_ may accept _a's_ breach of the contract, and terminate the lease, or he may take possession of the premises, and relet them for _a's_ benefit, notifying _a_ that he takes possession for _a's_ benefit, and not for his own. in this event, _b_ must use reasonable diligence in obtaining the highest rent possible, and if he is obliged to rent for a less amount than _a_ was to pay, _b_ can collect the difference from _a_. =340. liability of parties to a lease for breach.= if the landlord fails to fulfill the conditions of the lease, he is liable in damages to the tenant. the damages are the difference between the rent paid under the lease, and the market value of the premises furnished. for example, if _a_ rents his house and lot to _b_ for one year at $25.00 per month, and agrees to redecorate the house, but fails to do so, _a_ may recover from _b_ the difference between $300.00, the rent paid under the lease, and the market rental of the house undecorated. if a tenant abandons the lease, the landlord may recover from the the deficiency between the rental named in the lease, and the rental he is able to obtain for the balance of the time covered by the lease. for example, if _a_ rents _b's_ farm for three years at $500.00 a year, and at the expiration of two years, _a_ abandons the lease, if _b_ is able to obtain but $300.00 for the remaining year covered by the lease, he can recover $200.00 and expenses from _a_. a suit for damages is not the only remedy the landlord has against a tenant for the latter's abandonment of the premises. the landlord may refuse to accept the breach on the part of the tenant, let the premises remain vacant, and collect the rent under the lease. the landlord may enter the premises for the purpose of preventing loss or destruction of the premises without accepting the breach. the landlord may accept and cancel the remaining portion of the lease, or he may again lease the premises for the benefit of the tenant, and collect the deficiency in the rent from the tenant. this question is also discussed in the previous section. =341. actions for recovery of rent and possession of leased premises.= a landlord may sue and recover judgment by bringing an ordinary action for debt when rent or any installment is due. if _a_ rents _b's_ house for one year at the rate of $25.00 per month, payable at the end of each month, and fails to pay any installment, _b_ may sue him. the judgment may be satisfied out of any property _a_ may have. if married, _a_, by statute in most jurisdictions, is entitled to a certain amount of exempt property. if the landlord has failed to perform all of the terms and conditions of the lease, _a_ may bring a counteraction against _b_ when sued by _b_ for rent. for example, if _b_ has failed to repair the house according to the terms of the lease, _a_ may counterclaim for damages when sued by _b_ for the rent. when the period of the lease expires, the landlord is entitled to possession of the premises. at common law, he was entitled to use the force necessary to recover possession. he is not permitted to commit a breach of the public peace in obtaining possession. most of the states provide statutory methods for obtaining possession. a complaint is filed with a court and an officer of the court ejects the tenant by order of court. non-payment of rent does not entitle the landlord to terminate the lease, unless the lease expressly so provides. when the lease is forfeited according to its provisions, the landlord is entitled to take possession. trade=marks and names =342. trade=marks in general.= persons are permitted to place marks on goods manufactured or sold by them, which indicate their origin or ownership. by this means, they are able to obtain the benefit of any superiority which their goods have over goods of other manufacturers or sellers. these marks placed on goods by owners or manufacturers are called _trade-marks_. a court has defined a trade-mark to be "a word, symbol, figure, form or device, or a combination thereof adopted or devised and used by a manufacturer or seller of goods to designate the origin or ownership of the goods, and used by him to distinguish the goods from those sold or manufactured by others." a manufacturer or seller of an article is not permitted to appropriate as a trade-mark a name commonly used to describe the article. flour is manufactured and sold by many persons. anyone has the right to manufacture and sell flour by that name. no one is permitted to appropriate to himself as a trade-mark the name _flour_. a person may, however, apply an arbitrary term, not describing the thing produced, for the purpose of designating his brand of flour as distinguished from other brands of flour. while a manufacturer of flour is not permitted to appropriate as a trade-mark to be used on flour the name _flour_, he may be permitted to use the term _ideal_. the person first adopting the name _ideal_ as a trade-mark in the sale of flour, acquires a property right in the name. the law will protect him in the use of this name in connection with the sale and manufacture of flour. any arbitrary name, sign, mark, symbol, letter or number used for the purpose of designating the origin or ownership of goods may be appropriated as a trade-mark by the person first adopting and continuing its use. a person is not permitted to adopt as a trade-mark anything which indicates the grade or ingredients, or which is descriptive of the article sold or manufactured. the reason for this rule is that otherwise a person adopting the name would have a monopoly on the production of such articles. _crack-proof rubber goods_, as applied to rubber goods; _a1 honey_, as applied to honey, are terms descriptive of quality of goods and cannot be appropriated. a proper name of a person is not the subject of a valid trade-mark. persons of the same name are permitted ordinarily to use their name in the manufacture of goods of the same nature. a party is not permitted, however, to manufacture or sell his goods as the goods of another. he may not be permitted to use his own name in the sale of certain goods if another has long made and sold goods under the same name, and if purchasers are defrauded thereby, or if confusion results. this is not by reason of a person having a trade-mark in his own name, but by reason of unfair trade. this is discussed under the section on _unfair trade_. =343. trade=marks= (continued). a name of a place or locality cannot be appropriated as a trade-mark. any person is permitted to use the name of a place or locality to designate the origin of the goods and it is the common property of all as much as any descriptive name. a geographical name cannot be appropriated as a trade-mark. a common example of this principle is the use of the term, _lackawanna_. this is the name of a district in pennsylvania. a coal company endeavored to appropriate the name, but was not permitted to use it as a trade-mark. others, mining coal in the lackawanna district have an equal right to designate their coal by the same name. any fanciful or arbitrary name not describing the article, may, however, be adopted as a trade-mark. a person first using such an arbitrary mark in the manufacture or sale of a particular class of goods acquires a trade-mark. he may use the mark without any intention of acquiring a trade-mark therein. if another person attempts to use the mark, no matter if without intent to defraud, he may be enjoined from its use. the owner of a trade-mark has no greater right than any other person to use the trade-mark on classes of goods different from the class on which it has been acquired. a trade-mark used on flour may also be used on stoves by another person. this principle is subject to the limitations that one person is not permitted to deceive purchasers in leading them to believe that they are purchasing the goods of another. this question is discussed under the section on _unfair trade_. a trade-mark is acquired by the person first using it in connection with the sale or manufacture of goods. it is not necessary that it be adopted with the intention of being used as a trade-mark. a trade-mark may be lost by discontinuance. a trade-mark will not be allowed on an article which it is against public policy to manufacture. an example of this principle is adulterated food or medicine. a trade-mark which does not indicate that the goods manufactured or sold are the result of the personal skill of a particular person, may be sold with the business in connection with which the trade-mark is used. =344. trade names.= a person is permitted to use a name other than his own for the purpose of trade. for example, john smith may use the name _the john smith co._, _the eureka co._, _the l. x. co._, or any arbitrary or fanciful name he may choose, so long as it does not conflict with the rights of others. such names are called _trade names_. their adoption and use are governed by the same legal principles as trade-marks. trade names, however, are applied to a business, while trade-marks are brands applied to articles of manufacture or sale. as in the use of trade-marks, a person is not protected in the use of trade names which describe the article manufactured or sold. the use of the name, _cleveland fertilizer co._ by john smith, does not prevent others from using the same name. the law does not permit one party to monopolize the use of the term _fertilizer_; neither does it permit him to monopolize the geographical term, _cleveland_. the party first adopting a trade name other than a descriptive geographical, individual, or proper name, acquires the right to use it as a trade name. while a person cannot acquire such a right in a geographical or descriptive name, he may, by long use of it, acquire the right to prevent others from using it in such a manner as to deceive purchasers. a person is not permitted to sell his goods as the goods of another. this right to prevent others from using a name which deceives the public is not by reason of any trade name acquired, but by reason of a person unfairly making others believe they were purchasing the goods of one person, when, in reality, they are purchasing the goods of others. =345. unfair trade.= a trade-mark, or a trade name cannot be descriptive of the articles sold or manufactured. neither can a proper name or a geographical name be appropriated to a trade-mark or name. to enable a person to acquire a trade-mark or trade name, a mark or name must be adopted which in no way describes the article manufactured or sold. it must be one that is not taken from the place where the goods are manufactured or sold, or from the name of the inventor or manufacturer. it must be an arbitrary or fanciful name or mark. a manufacturer of flour may use as a trade-mark the name _beauty flour_, but not _minnesota flour_, or _pure flour_. a party may use as a trade-mark for men's collars the picture of a lion, but not the word _linen_. when a trade-mark or a trade name has once been used as such, the owner, unless he loses or transfers the right, acquires the sole right to its use, and may compel others to cease using it, regardless of actual damages or confusion. at the present time, the courts recognize a principle known as _unfair trade_. even though a person has adopted a geographical name, or a name descriptive of the articles manufactured or sold as a trade name, he is permitted to enjoin others from the use of this name, if the use of the same enables the latter to sell his goods as the goods of the former. a person cannot use the name _cleveland fertilizer co._, so as to acquire a trade name therein. but if the name _cleveland fertilizer co._, is used by a person so long and so extensively as to acquire for its owner a broad reputation as a manufacturer of an excellent quality of fertilizer, another who adopts the name may be enjoined from its use, if purchasers are deceived thereby. this is on the ground of unfair trade. =346. unfair trade= (continued). the same principle applies in the use of individual names. a person may not acquire a trade-mark in his own or in any individual or proper name, since others have the right to the use of their own name. but a person may acquire such a reputation as a manufacturer of a particular article, that if others of the same name are permitted to use their name in the same connection without distinguishing features, the public will be deceived in making purchases. for the purpose of protecting the public from being deceived, the courts sometimes enjoin persons from the use of their own name in connection with the manufacture and sale of certain articles. for example, thomas edison has acquired fame as an inventor and manufacturer of _edison batteries_. a person by the name of edison would not be permitted to manufacture and sell electric batteries under the name of _edison electric batteries_, for the reason that the public would be deceived thereby. this would be what is known as unfair trade. the same principle applies to geographical names. a geographical, individual, proper, or descriptive name cannot be used as a trade name, or a trade-mark, but they can be so used as to prevent others from using them, by reason of violating the law of unfair trade. =347. registration of trade=marks.= in 1906 the united states congress passed the present statute relating to the registration of trade-marks. the act provides that the owner of a trade-mark used in commerce with foreign nations, the several states, or the indian tribes may register said trade-marks by filing the same with the commissioner of patents. a trade-mark is acquired in the same manner as at common law. the united states act does not change the method of acquiring trade-marks, nor does it designate what constitutes trade-marks. it simply permits a person to register a trade-mark already acquired. in case of dispute, the owner has the advantage of a public record of his claim, and until he has lost his right in the trade-mark to some one who proves to have a better right, the registration is _prima facie_ evidence of ownership. before registering a trade-mark, the owner is required to file with the commissioner of patents at washington, an application showing the nature of the trade-mark, on what goods used, and when acquired. a fee of $10.00 is required. the owner must file a verified statement that he is the owner of the trade-mark sought to be filed. trade-marks which consist of the name of an individual, firm, or corporation, or words descriptive of the articles manufactured or sold, a geographical term, or a photograph of any living person, except with such person's consent, shall not be registered as trade-marks. when such application is filed, if the commissioner of patents finds that it is proper to register the same as a trade-mark, he publishes the mark in the official gazette. anyone may oppose the registration by filing objections within twenty days after said publication. if no objection is filed, the trade-mark is registered, and a certificate of registration is furnished the applicant. if objection to the registration of a trade-mark is made, the applicant is notified by the commissioner of patents. if the trade-mark interferes with another, or is descriptive of the article to which it is to be applied, the commissioner will refuse to register it. a person whose application for registration of a trade-mark has been refused by the commissioner of patents may appeal from the decision of the commissioner of patents by filing applications of appeal with the court of appeals of the district of columbia. registered trade-marks may be assigned in connection with the good will of the business in which the trade-mark is used. notice of such assignment must be filed with the commissioner of patents within three months from the time the assignment is made, to render it valid as against other innocent purchasers. certificates of registration shall be effective for twenty years, and may be renewed for like periods upon payment of the registration fee. after a trade-mark has been registered, anyone who considers himself injured by said trade-mark may file complaint with the commissioner of patents, and if the latter determines that there is an infringement, or that someone has a prior right to the trade-mark, the registration may be cancelled. notice of registration of a trade-mark is given the public by publishing the words, _registered u. s. patent office_, with the trade-mark. most of the states have statutes making it a crime falsely to use the trade-mark or brand of another company. the use of labels by trade unions is protected in this manner in several states. wills =348. will defined.= a will has been defined to be a "disposition of real property to take effect after the death of the testator." originally, the term _will_ applied only to dispositions of real property, and the term _testament_ applied to dispositions of personal property. at present, the terms _will_ and _testament_ are not uncommonly used. but the original limitation of the term, _will_, is no longer commonly recognized. the term, _will_, is now used to describe a disposition of personal as well as real property to take effect at the maker's death. =349. names of parties and terms commonly used in a will.= the person who makes a will is called the _testator_ or _devisor_. the term _testator_ is more commonly used than the term _devisor_ to designate the maker of a will. the term _devise_ is used to designate the giving of real property. if _a_ desires to give a farm to _b_ by will, the language used in the will is, "i, _a_, devise to _b_ my farm." technically, the term _devise_ means the giving by will of real estate, but it is commonly used to designate the giving by will of personal property as well. the term _bequeath_ is used to designate the giving of personal property by will. if _a_ desires to give by will a watch to _b_, he uses the language, "i, _a_ bequeath to _b_ my watch." the beneficiary, or person designated in the will to receive real property, is called the _legatee_. =350. origin and nature of wills.= at common law, a person was permitted to give by will a portion of his personal property. he was not permitted to give real property by will. in england, the right to give real property by will was given by statute. the law of this country has always recognized the right to give real as well as personal property by will. it is not regarded as a right but rather as a privilege extended to an owner of property. this privilege is controlled by the legislatures of the states. the states differ in their statutory requirements as to the manner of making wills, and the amount of property that may be willed to the exclusion of the wife and family. a will must be signed, acknowledged, and witnessed as required by statute, and may be rendered void if the statutory requirements are changed between the time the will is made and the death of the testator. a will is not a contract. the right to make contracts cannot be abridged by legislation. this right is a constitutional right. the constitution gives an owner of property no right to make a will. it is a privilege which may be abridged or taken away by the legislature. most of the states give a wife a dower interest in the real estate of her husband. (see _dower estate_, chapter on real property.) a husband cannot will away his estate, depriving his wife of dower. =351. law governing wills when testator owns property in one state and resides in another at time of death.= real property is fixed and immovable. no matter where a testator resides at the time of his death, the law of the state where the real property is located governs the will relative to its disposition. if the will does not comply with the law of the state where the real property is located, the general rule is that the will cannot be enforced, even though the will is valid under the law of the state where the testator resides at the time of his death. for example, if _a_ owns real property in cleveland, ohio, but resides in omaha, nebraska, _a_ may make a valid will under the law of nebraska which may not comply with the ohio law. if _a_ dies, the provisions of the will cannot be enforced as to the real property in cleveland. personal property, on the other hand, is movable and is supposed to follow the residence of its owner. if a will is valid where the testator resides at the time of his death it is valid to pass personal property, regardless of where the personal property is located. some states at present provide by statute that if a will is valid where the testator resided at the time of his death, it is valid to pass real property, no matter where located. =352. essentials of a will.= primarily, a will is an instrument in which a person expresses his intention to give his property to certain designated persons, to take effect upon his death. any instrument, no matter whether it be termed a will, containing an expression of intention to have property pass to another at the death of the maker, satisfies the requirement. to constitute a will, there must be no present interest in the property passing absolutely to the beneficiaries named in the instrument at the time the written instrument is made. a person may make a gift, a bill of sale, or a deed of property if he chooses. the title to the property passes to the purchaser or donee at once or at some future stipulated time. such transactions are not wills. a will does not take effect until the death of the testator. it may be revoked, changed, or supplanted at the will of the testator. any instrument that conveys a present interest is not a will. the two most essential things in determining whether an instrument constitutes a will are, first, the power to revoke the instrument, or a stipulation or language used showing that the instrument is not to take effect until the testator's death; and second, the expression of an intention of the testator to make a will. certain formal requisites as to signature and witnessing are required by statute in different states. these requirements are discussed under separate sections. =353. who may make a will.= by statute in most states, anyone of legal age, of sound and disposing mind and memory may make a will. at common law, when a woman married, her property became her husband's. a married woman could not make a will. at present, by statute, most states provide that married women may contract concerning their separate estates. they are also permitted to make wills. a person must be of legal age to make a will. what constitutes legal age is fixed by statute in the different states. all provide that twenty-one years is the legal age for males. some fix the legal age for females at eighteen, others at twenty-one. what constitutes sound and disposing mind and memory is a matter of some dispute. it is conceded that idiots, imbeciles, and insane persons, while insane, cannot make wills. the mental capacity required of a person to enable him to make a will is usually stated to be that mental capacity which enables a person to describe his property, to name the natural objects of his bounty, and to understand the nature of a will. a person does not have to be in good health to make a will. he does not have to be mentally sound within the ordinary meaning of the term. he may be very ill, and weak both in mind and body. he may be eccentric, may have been insane, may be subject to illusions, or even may be under guardianship for insanity and still be able to make a will. if he is able without assistance from others to describe his property, to understand in general the nature and effect of making a will, and to name the persons who are the natural objects of his bounty, he is capable of making a will. if his mind is not sufficient to perform all of these functions he is not capable of making a will. to constitute an instrument a valid will, it is not necessary that the instrument show in itself that the testator had all these powers. he may not name all, or any of the natural objects of his bounty in the will. he may not describe all of his property. if he was capable of doing these things at the time he made the will, regardless of whether or not he exercised this capacity, the will is valid. if a testator makes a will under such mental pressure or threat of violence that he does not act according to his wishes, the will may be avoided by reason of undue influence or duress. undue influence may be exerted by anyone, but not necessarily by a beneficiary under the will. all solicitations or remarks or supplications to the testator to make a particular provision in a will do not constitute undue influence. the influence must be of a sort to compel the testator to act against his wishes, and to destroy his ability to act through his own mental agency. =354. what may be disposed of by will.= any property owned by the testator, whether real or personal, may be disposed of by will. property cannot be freed from liens or incumbrances by will. if _a_ owns a farm, but _b_ has a mortgage on it, _a_ can dispose of his interest by will, _b_ retaining his interest in the mortgage as against the devisee. a husband cannot cut off his wife's dower estate by will. a person may dispose of all his real and personal property by will. a will covering all the real and personal property of the testator will pass the real and personal property acquired by the testator after he made the will. =355. requisites of a will as to form.= ordinarily, a will must be in writing. in some jurisdictions, and under certain circumstances, oral wills are recognized as sufficient to pass certain property. these oral wills are called _nuncupative_ wills. they are discussed under a separate section. a will may be written on any kind of material, and in any language. it may be printed, written on a typewriter, written in the testator's own handwriting or by another. it may be written on one or several pieces of paper. the pieces need not be fastened together if their contents show their connection. another instrument not set forth in the will may be incorporated into the will by reference, if the instrument can readily be identified, and was in existence at the time the will was made. a will must be signed. the statutes of most states require that a will be signed by the testator, or by some one authorized to sign for him. a person not able to write may sign by mark. a person usually signs by mark as follows: his john _x_ smith. mark any mark made by the testator is sufficient. most states require by statute that wills must be signed in the presence of two or three witnesses. these witnesses must be competent to understand the nature of the transaction. they need not necessarily be of legal age. they must affix their signatures as witnesses to the will. a beneficiary under the will should not be a witness. the witnesses of a will are required to observe the competency of the testator and his signature, in order that they may testify to these facts when the will is proven. the statutes of most states make it sufficient for the testator to acknowledge his signature in the presence of the witnesses. in this event, they need not see him sign his name to the will. the witnesses are usually required to sign the will in the presence of the testator, and in the presence of each other. =356. publication of a will.= some states provide by statute that to constitute a written instrument a valid will, the testator must acknowledge it to be a will at the time it is signed and witnessed. this act is known as _publication_. some states do not have such a statutory provision. in the absence of statutory provisions, publication is not necessary. it is not necessary that the testator read or cause the will to be read to the witnesses to comply with the statutory requirements of publication. the witnesses must know that they are witnessing a will. any word, expression or act on the part of the testator which notifies the witnesses that they are witnessing a will is a sufficient publication. _a_ requested _b_ and _c_ to visit his house in the evening and witness his will. they went to _a's_ house, where _a_ presented a document to them, which he signed in their presence, and which they signed as witnesses. _a_ did not acknowledge that the instrument was a will. the court held this to be a sufficient publication. _b_ and _c_ had been informed that the instrument was _a's_ will. =357. contract to make a will.= a person may enter into a contract to make a will which will bind his estate. the party with whom such a contract is made cannot force the other party to make a will, or prevent him from revoking a will if made, but he can bring an action for damages against such party's estate if the latter dies without leaving a will according to his agreement. a will can be revoked at the desire of the testator. revocability is one of the essential features of a will. a party may bind himself by contract to make a will in favor of a certain person. this contract does not prevent such person from revoking the will if made, but it renders the person's estate liable for breach of contract. _a_, a boy of twenty-one years of age, was told by his father, _b_, that if he would continue to work for him until he was thirty-five years of age, he would will him a certain farm, _a_ agreed to this proposition, and worked for his father until he was thirty-five years of age. _b_ subsequently died, leaving a will by which the farm was given to another son. _a_ was permitted to recover the value of the farm by suit. these contracts require clear and convincing evidence to support recovery. _a_ agreed to board, clothe, care for, and bury _b_, his father, in consideration of _b's_ agreement to give _a_ all his property. _a_ fulfilled the terms of his contract. _b_ died leaving a will by which his property was given to _c_. _a_ was permitted to recover the value of the property by suit. =358. holographic wills.= a _holographic_ will is one written entirely in the handwriting of the testator. such wills are sometimes called _olographic_ wills. a minority of the states of this country recognize the validity of holographic wills. these wills need not be witnessed to be valid. an ordinary will may be printed, typewritten, or written by a person other than the testator. the testator must sign and publish the will, that is, he must acknowledge the instrument to be a will, in the presence of the attesting witnesses. in case of a holographic will, there need be no witnesses, acknowledgment, or publication, but the will must be entirely in the handwriting of the testator, and must be signed and dated by the testator himself. in some jurisdictions, it is necessary that a holographic will be found among the testator's valuable papers, to constitute a valid will. _a_ died and the following document was found among his valuable papers: $100,000.00 four years after my death, i hereby authorize my executors to pay francis penn one hundred thousand dollars. signed _a_. this was held to be a valid holographic will. a holographic will is frequently in the form of a letter addressed to the beneficiary. =359. nuncupative wills.= many of the states of this country recognize the validity of oral wills made under certain circumstances for the purpose of disposing of personal property. such wills are called _nuncupative_ wills. soldiers and sailors while in actual service may dispose of their personal property by this form of will. persons other than soldiers and sailors may make nuncupative wills when in their last sickness or in danger of impending death. the will is made by calling upon disinterested persons to bear witness to the will which the testator describes orally. these words, in substance at least, must be reduced to writing, usually within ten days from the death of the testator, by one of the witnesses, and signed by the witnesses. nuncupative wills are not favored in law. they are not sufficient to dispose of real property. some states do not recognize the validity of these wills unless they are made at the testator's dwelling. an exception to this rule is where the testator, surprised by sickness when upon a journey, dies while away from home. nuncupative wills must be proven within six months after they are reduced to writing. _a_ was suddenly taken seriously ill at his home. he called upon _b_ and _c_, disinterested witnesses, to bear witness to his will, and directed that his personal property be given to his wife _d_. _a_ died, _b_ reduced the words of _a_ to writing within ten days after _a's_ death, and _c_ and _b_ signed as witnesses. the will was proven within six months. it was held to be a valid nuncupative will. =360. revocation and alteration of wills.= a will may be revoked at any time before the testator's death. the testator may himself revoke his will, or he may cause someone to perform some act under his direction and in his presence, which will revoke the will. the statutes of most states provide that a person may revoke a will by tearing, cancelling, obliterating, or destroying the will with the intention of revoking it. any of these acts performed by a stranger, not in the presence nor under the direction of the testator, are void acts, and do not destroy the validity of the will. if the testator himself, tears, cancels, destroys, or obliterates the will with the intention of revoking the will, the instrument no longer has any validity or force as a will. a will is cancelled by drawing lines with a pen or pencil across the written portion of the will. a will may be revoked by a later will which expressly revokes the former, or which disposes of all the property of the testator. a later will which does not expressly revoke a former will, and which does not dispose of all the testator's property does not revoke the former will, but both are construed together. a _codicil_ is an instrument altering, revoking, changing, or adding to certain portions of a will. it must, itself, be signed, witnessed and acknowledged the same as a will, and is construed as part of the will. =361. lost wills.= a will which is lost or destroyed with no intention to revoke may be proven as a will after the testator's death. if a will is partially or totally destroyed by accident, or by someone who is to profit by the total or partial destruction, the will is said to be _spoliated_, and its contents, as it existed before spoliation, may be proven after the testator's death. it must be remembered that a will may be revoked by a testator at any time. if a testator makes a will, and has it in his possession, and after his death the will cannot be found, the presumption is that he revoked the will. this presumption may be rebutted, however. if the testator tells of having a will shortly before his death, or if the will is seen, or any evidence is produced that the will was not revoked by the testator, it may be proven as a lost will. if a will is made and left for safe-keeping with a third person, inability to find it after the testator's death raises no presumption that is was revoked by the testator. to prove a lost will as a will, witnesses must be produced who know in substance the contents of the will, that it was made and that it was not revoked by the testator. if a will is partially destroyed by someone who is to benefit thereby, or by accident, the contents of the portion so destroyed may be proven as a lost will. =362. abatement, advancement, and ademption.= if a person does not have sufficient property at his death to pay the bequests and devises made in his will after payment of his debts, his devises and bequests are paid _pro rata_ out of the estate remaining after the payment of debts and expenses, unless the testator expressed a wish or intention that certain bequests or devises were to be satisfied in preference to others. in this event, the wishes of the testator must be observed. the rule requiring all devisees and legatees to receive but a portion of the property mentioned in the will, in case there is not sufficient property to satisfy all, is called _abatement_. if a person makes a will bequeathing a certain article of personal property, or a certain amount of money to another, and if, before the will becomes operative by the death of the devisor, the latter delivers the article or pays the money to the legatee, or sells or disposes of the particular article mentioned in the bequest, the will is said to be _adeemed_, and the act by which it is adeemed is called _ademption_. in case of ademption of a particular article, the bequest is satisfied. in case a certain sum of money is bequeathed to a person by will, and the amount of money is given the legatee by the devisor, whether it satisfies the bequest, or whether it is a gift in addition to the bequest mentioned in the will, is a matter of intention on the part of the devisor. if the devisor expressly says it is a gift in addition to the bequest mentioned in the will, it will not satisfy the bequest mentioned in the will. if nothing is said which expressly shows the wish or intent of the devisor, the presumption is, that it is to apply on the bequest, or if sufficient in amount, that it satisfies the bequest. the intent of the testator may be determined by the circumstances connected with the payment. if a sum of money is paid by a testator during his lifetime to a legatee mentioned in his will, to apply on the bequest, the payment is sometimes called an _advancement_. =363. form of will.= i, john brown, of the city of chicago, county of cook, and state of illinois, being about 61 years of age, and of sound and disposing mind and memory, do make and publish this my last will and testament. _first_, i desire that all my debts and the expenses connected with my funeral be paid. _second_, i give, devise and bequeath to my wife, jane brown, the sum of $10,000.00, all the household furniture and chattel property of every kind and nature used in and in connection with our residence, and a life estate in my two farms. _third_, i give and devise to my two sons, john brown, jr., and clark brown, jointly, my farm known as the "home place." this devise is subject to the life estate of my wife mentioned in division two of my will. _fourth_, i give and devise to my daughter, anna brown, my farm known as the "north place," during her life, and at her death to her lawful issue. this devise is subject to the life estate of my wife, provided for in division two of this will. _fifth_, the balance of my personal property i give and bequeath to smith home for aged men, of chicago. i appoint my son, john brown, jr., executor of this will, and revoke all former wills. in witness whereof, i have subscribed my name this 10th day of september, 1909. john brown. the foregoing instrument was signed by the said john brown in our presence, and by him published, and declared to be his last will and testament, and at his request, and in our presence and in the presence of each other, we subscribed our names as attesting witnesses at chicago, illinois, this 10th day of september, 1909. thomas jones, residing at 21 state st., james johnson, residing at 4704 drexel ave., chicago, ill. courts and legal remedies =364. courts.= courts may be defined to be the institutions established by the government to settle disputes and to administer justice. they may consist of a judge sitting alone, of several judges sitting together, or of a judge and a jury. courts are assisted in their work by bailiffs and clerks. attorneys who conduct the trials for the opposing parties are officers of the court. they can be fined and imprisoned for refusing to obey the lawful order of the court. in general, courts may be divided into state courts and federal or united states courts. =365. federal courts.= the constitution of the united states provides that: "the judicial powers of the united states shall be vested in one supreme court, and in such inferior courts as the congress may from time to time ordain and establish. the judges both of the supreme and inferior courts shall hold their offices during good behavior, and shall at stated times receive for their services a compensation, which shall not be diminished during their term of office." the united states constitution further provides that: "the judicial power shall extend to all cases in law and equity arising under the constitution, the laws of the united states, the treaties made, or which shall be made, under their authority; to all cases affecting ambassadors, other public ministers and consuls; to all cases of admiralty and maritime jurisdiction; to controversies to which the united states shall be a party; to controversies between two or more states, between a state and citizens of another state, between citizens of different states, between citizens of the same state claiming land under grants of different states, and between a state and the citizens thereof, and foreign states, citizens or subjects." congress has provided for district courts, circuit courts, and circuit courts of appeal, which, in addition to the supreme court, constitute the federal or united states courts. =366. united states district courts.= the united states as a whole is divided into districts. each district is presided over by one united states judge, called a district judge. each state constitutes at least one district and some states are divided into several districts. for example, ohio has two districts, called the northern and southern districts of ohio. new york has four districts, called the northern, southern, eastern, and western districts. the judges are appointed for life, or during good behavior. the appointments are made by the president of the united states, by, and with the advice and consent of the senate. each district judge is required to reside in the district for which he is appointed. =367. united states circuit courts.= the entire territory of the united states is divided into nine sections, and each section comprises the jurisdiction of a separate united states court. that is, there are nine circuit courts in the united states. each circuit is composed of several districts. for example, the sixth circuit is composed of the states of ohio, kentucky, michigan, and tennessee. each circuit has at least two circuit judges, and is presided over by one of the judges of the supreme court of the united states. the circuit court holds court in each district of the circuit, and the circuit court of each district is composed of the united states supreme court judge presiding over the circuit, the two circuit judges, and the district judge of the district. the circuit court holds court at different times in each district of the circuit. any one judge may hold court alone. usually, trials in circuit courts are presided over by one judge. the united states circuit court and the united states district courts have original and exclusive jurisdiction of practically all the cases which may be brought in the united states courts. the united states supreme court has original jurisdiction of a few important classes of cases. by _original jurisdiction_ is meant the right to commence cases in the particular court. by _appellate jurisdiction_ is meant the right to take a case from one court to a higher court upon appeal or writ of error, for the purpose of having the case retried or examined for errors of law. =368. united states circuit court of appeals.= each of the circuits in the united states has a circuit court of appeals. this court consists of one member of the united states supreme court, who acts as presiding judge, and the two circuit judges of the circuit. at least two judges must be present to hold court. if two of the regular circuit judges are not present, a district judge of any district of the circuit may act. a district judge cannot sit as judge of the court of appeals in determining cases in the trial of which he acted as district judge. the circuit court of appeals has no original jurisdiction. it is solely an appellate court. cases from the district and circuit courts may be appealed to it, and brought before it on writs of error. some cases may be appealed direct to the supreme court of the united states from the district and circuit courts. the circuit court of appeals has final jurisdiction in many matters appealed to it. =369. the supreme court of the united states.= the supreme court of the united states holds court at washington, and consists of nine judges. it has original jurisdiction in some important matters, and cases may be appealed to it, or tried on writs of error from the district court, circuit court, and circuit court of appeals. the constitution of the united states provides that, "in all cases affecting ambassadors, other public ministers and consuls, and those in which a state shall be a party, the supreme court shall have original jurisdiction." =370. united states courts with admiralty jurisdiction.= the constitution of the united states provides that the united states courts shall have jurisdiction over admiralty and maritime cases. admiralty cases comprise those cases arising out of breach of contract, or out of injuries occurring upon the seas or navigable waters within the jurisdiction of the united states. the district courts of the united states are given original jurisdiction in admiralty cases. in the trial of admiralty cases, the judge acts alone and is not assisted by a jury. =371. state courts.= the united states constitution provides that, "the powers not delegated to the united states by the constitution nor prohibited by it to the states, are reserved to the states respectively or to the people." thus, the provision of the united states constitution, authorizing the creation of federal courts does not prevent the states from establishing and maintaining courts. each state has its own courts. in fact the bulk of litigation is tried by state courts. the courts of the different states differ somewhat in name and jurisdiction. most of the states have a court of inferior jurisdiction where small cases involving $300.00 or less, are tried, and a county court where cases involving more than $300.00 are tried, and to which cases may be appealed from the inferior courts. the inferior court is usually called a magistrate court, or a court of a justice of the peace. all states have a court of last resort, usually called a supreme court. the primary function of state supreme courts is to hear appealed cases and cases brought to it upon writs of error. they have very little original jurisdiction. supreme courts consist of judges only. they have no juries. some states have an appellate court inferior to the supreme court, which has jurisdiction to hear cases on appeal and error. the states also have courts for the administration of estates, called probate, surrogate, or orphans' courts. =372. courts of equity.= originally in england, the king was regarded as having original right to administer justice. it became the custom to appeal to the king in cases where the common law rules afforded no remedy. later, appeals were made to the chancellor, the king's secretary. cases were also referred by the king to the chancellor. in time, a distinct court, governed by well established precedents and rules, was established. these courts were called the courts of chancery or courts of equity. their jurisdiction covered only those cases not covered by courts of law. chancery courts consisted of a judge only, or a number of judges who heard and determined cases without the assistance of a jury. courts of equity are recognized in this country, but few states have separate courts of equity or chancery. the same judge is authorized to act as a court of law and a court of equity. equity has jurisdiction of those cases only, in which there is no adequate remedy at law. if _a_ makes a contract with _b_ by which he purchases a certain desirable house and lot and _b_ refuses to make the transfer, and if the house and lot are of such a character that _a_ cannot obtain another which suits his purpose and fancy, _b_ may be compelled by a court of equity to transfer the lot to _a_. a court of law would give _a_ money damages for breach of contract, but would not compel _b_ specifically to perform the contract. the united states, as well as the states, has courts of equity. =373. legal actions and their enforcement.= legal actions may be said to be of three kinds, those arising out of contract, those arising out of torts, and those arising out of crimes. crimes are punishable by fine, imprisonment, or death. the state, through its officers, punishes criminals. in theory, a crime is a wrong committed against the community. the community, that is, the state, through its officers, convicts and punishes persons who have committed crimes. the person who is injured personally, or whose property is injured, has an action for damages against the party committing the wrong. this action is independent of the crime. the same act may render a person liable to punishment for committing a crime, and liable to an action for damages to the injured party. if a person wrongfully strikes another and injures him, the state may punish the guilty party for committing a crime, and the injured person may sue him for damages. legal actions arising out of injuries to persons and property as distinguished from crimes are called _civil_ actions. civil actions arise out of breach of contract, or out of torts. if a person fails to pay a promissory note, or to perform any contract, a legal action arises out of contract. if a person slanders another, or wrongfully strikes him, a legal action arises out of tort. legal actions are enforced by the injured or complaining party filing a complaint in court. the party against whom the complaint is filed is notified of the suit by an officer of the court. this notice is called the _summons_. the written complaint is usually called the _petition_. the complaining party is usually called the _plaintiff_. the party against whom the petition or complaint is filed is called the _defendant_. the defendant is allowed a certain time in which to file a statement of his defense. this written statement of the defendant in which he sets forth his side of the case is called an _answer_. these written statements are called the _pleadings in the case_. the parties then appear in court with their witnesses and the case is heard. the judge determines questions of law, and the jury determines questions of fact. the decision of the jury is called the _verdict_. the twelve jurymen must agree to enable them to render a verdict. if they disagree, a new trial with another jury is held. the judge may set aside a verdict, and grant a new trial if the verdict is irregular, or contrary to law. when a judgment has been rendered, execution may be levied upon the property of the defeated party for the amount of the judgment and costs. execution is levied by the sheriff, who seizes and sells the property of the defeated party, sufficient to satisfy the judgment. quiz questions mortgages 1. what was the nature of a mortgage at _common law_? 2. at common law who had the possession of real property mortgaged? 3. is a mortgage a contract? 4. what names are applied to the parties to a mortgage? 5. at present who is entitled to possession of mortgaged real estate? 6. under what circumstances, if any, may a deed be construed to be a mortgage? 7. what is the ordinary consideration to a mortgage contract? 8. may a mortgage be given to secure a future indebtedness? 9. what is meant by the _debt secured by a mortgage_? 10. is an oral mortgage of real estate enforceable? 11. distinguish a _mortgage_ and a _deed_. 12. if a mortgagor stipulates in the mortgage that he waives his equity of redemption can this stipulation be enforced against him? 13. what is meant by _power of sale mortgage_? 14. explain attestation of a mortgage. 15. explain acknowledgment of a mortgage. 16. when does a mortgage become effective? 17. define _delivery in escrow_. 18. what interest in real estate may be mortgaged? 19. is a mortgage of real estate regarded as a transfer of the real estate? 20. explain _recording mortgages_. 21. what is the necessity of recording mortgages? 22. may a mortgagee transfer title to the real estate? 23. what interest in the real estate mortgaged can a mortgagee transfer? 24. if a mortgagee sells the debt what becomes of the mortgage? 25. how may mortgages be satisfied? 26. define and explain _equity of redemption_. 27. define and explain _foreclosure of mortgages_. trusts 1. define _trusts of property_. 2. classify trusts. 3. define _grantor of a trust_. 4. define and give an example of _settlor of a trust_. 5. define and give an example of a _trustee of a trust_. 6. define and distinguish _beneficiary of a trust_, and _cestui que trust_. 7. what classes of persons may be parties to a trust? 8. what kinds of property may be the subject of a trust? 9. define and give an example of an _express trust_. 10. define and give an example of an _implied trust_. 11. define and give an example of a _resulting trust_. 12. define and give an example of a _constructive trust_. 13. who has the legal title to trust property? 14. is a person named in a declaration of trust as trustee, obliged to accept the trust? 15. what are the duties and liabilities of a trustee? 16. may a beneficiary of a trust convey title to the trust property? 17. if a trustee wrongfully disposes of trust property what remedies, if any, has the beneficiary? landlord and tenant 1. define _lessor_ and _lessee_. 2. distinguish _lease_ and _sale_. 3. distinguish _lease_ and _assignment_. 4. is a lease a contract? 5. does a lease carry with it an implied warranty that the premises described are in good condition? 6. _a_ rents _b's_ house for one year. _c_, a stranger, without right attempts by legal action to evict _a_. does _a_ have a right of action against _b_ for breach of implied warranty of quiet enjoyment? 7. for what purposes may a tenant use leased premises? 8. in the absence of express agreement what party to a lease is obliged to pay taxes and insurance on the leased premises? 9. a lease provides that the tenant is to pay the taxes. a special assessment for paving is levied. is the tenant obliged to pay this assessment? 10. who is obliged to pay water rent in the absence of any special agreement in a lease? 11. who is obliged to pay for ordinary repairs? 12. at common law was a tenant relieved from paying rent by the destruction by fire of the leased premises? 13. what is the rule at the present time as to release of a tenant's obligation to pay rent in case the buildings leased are destroyed by fire? 14. is there an implied obligation on the part of the landlord to deliver leased premises in any particular condition? 15. if a tenant is injured by reason of secret defects in the premises is the landlord liable to him for the injury? 16. if snow and ice are permitted to accumulate on the walk of the leased premises, causing injury to third persons, is the landlord or tenant liable for the injury? 17. may a tenant become liable for rent without any express agreement to that effect? 18. may a tenant be liable for rent without being in possession of the leased premises? 19. _a_ rents _b's_ house, nothing being said about the condition of the plumbing. the plumbing leaks. is _a_ obliged to take the house? 20. if a tenant abandons the rented premises before expiration of the term of the lease and so notifies the landlord, is he liable for the balance of the rent? 21. in case a tenant abandons the rented premises, what three remedies has the landlord? 22. define _distress_. 23. at common law could a landlord sell personal property distrained? 24. what is the present-day method of distraining for rent? 25. define _lease_. 26. must a lease be in any particular form to be legal? 27. what leases, if any, must be in writing? 28. what is meant by attestation of a lease? 29. define _acknowledgement_. 30. what is the necessity of acknowledgment of a lease? 31. what is the necessity of recording leases? 32. define, and give an example of an _express covenant_. 33. define, and give an example of _implied warranty_. 34. is there any limitation upon a landlord's right to transfer his interest in a lease? 35. is there any limitation upon a tenant's right to transfer his interest in a lease? 36. if _a_, a landlord, assigns his lease to _c_ without notifying _b_, the tenant, and later the tenant pays _a_, who is insolvent, can _c_ collect the rent from _b_? 37. define _attornment_. 38. if a tenant assigns his lease is he relieved from his obligation to pay rent? 39. define, and give an example of a _lease for years_. 40. _a_ rents _b's_ house for one year, agreeing to pay rent in monthly installments. is the lease one for years, or from month to month? 41. is a lease real or personal property? 42. what is the practical distinction between a lease for years and a lease from month to month? 43. when, if at all, may a tenant sublet? 44. distinguish _assignment_ and _sublease_. 45. if a tenant sublets the premises is he relieved of his obligation to pay rent? 46. define and give an example of an _estate at will_. 47. distinguish an estate at will from an estate for years, and an estate from year to year. 48. if a tenant for years is permitted to hold over his term with consent of the landlord, in most jurisdictions is the new tenancy one at will, or one from year to year? 49. define, and give an example of a _tenancy at sufferance_. 50. define and give an example of an _estate from year to year_. 51. _a_ leases a house for a month with the understanding that it is to continue for similar periods if agreeable to both parties. is the lease from year to year? 52. _a_ rents _b's_ house for one year. at the expiration of the year _a_ is permitted by _b_ to hold over for a month. _b_ then endeavors to eject _a_. _a_ claims he has a lease for eleven more months. is _a_ correct in his assertion? 53. is a lease from year to year terminated by mere lapse of time? 54. does breach of a condition or covenant, in the absence of an express stipulation in the lease making it a forfeiture, constitute a ground of forfeiture? 55. do leases for years require any notice to terminate? 56. do leases from year to year require any notice to terminate? 57. in general, in what manner must notice to terminate a lease be given? 58. define and give an example of a _surrender_. 59. does abandonment of the premises by a tenant without consent of the landlord, constitute a surrender? 60. if a tenant abandons the rented premises, may the landlord relet for the account of the tenant? 61. distinguish _breach of lease_ from _surrender of lease_. 62. if a landlord commits a breach of lease by failing to repair according to agreement, what is the measure of the tenant's damages? 63. if a tenant abandons the rented premises what are the landlord's remedies? 64. if a tenant abandons rented premises, may a landlord permit the premises to remain vacant, and collect rent from the tenant for the balance of the term? 65. if a tenant abandons a lease and the landlord desires to relet for the account of the tenant, must he notify the tenant that he takes possession, and relets for that purpose? 66. how may a landlord recover rent? 67. how may a landlord recover possession of leased premises when the lease has expired, or is broken? trade marks and trade names 1. what is the purpose of trade marks? 2. may anything other than words, letters, or figures be used as a trade mark? 3. may a word which describes the article on which it is used be used as a trade mark? 4. may a name of an individual be used as a trade mark? 5. may a name of a place or locality be used as a trade mark? 6. if a person uses a mark without any intention of its becoming a trade mark, does he acquire a valid trade mark therein? 7. _a_ has acquired a trade mark on flour; has he also acquired the same trade mark on stoves manufactured by him? 8. if _a_ has acquired a trade mark on flour, can _a_ prevent _b_ from using the same trade mark on stoves? 9. what length of time is required to obtain a valid trade mark? 10. _a_ used a trade mark on flour for two years, and ceased using it for two years. in the meantime _b_ used the trade mark. to whom does the trade mark belong? 11. what trade marks, if any, may be sold? 12. define _trade name_. 13. what is the distinction between _trade marks_ and _trade names_? 14. may a person acquire a trade name in a name describing the article manufactured? 15. how is a trade name acquired and how long must it be used to be acquired? 16. may a person acquire a trade name in a geographical name? 17. what is meant by _unfair trade_? 18. is it unlawful for a person to adopt as a trade name or trade mark, a name or mark descriptive of the article manufactured, or a geographical or a proper name? 19. _a_ used the name "chicago varnish co.," for ten years, and advertised the name extensively, spending large amounts of money in this connection. _b_ adopts the name, "chicago varnish co.," and the public purchases his product thinking they are buying _a's_ product. can _a_ prevent _b_ from using the name "chicago varnish co."? 20. is everyone entitled to use his own name in the manufacture or sale of any article he pleases? 21. who may register trade marks, and when may they be registered? 22. does registration of a mark constitute it a trade mark? 23. what is the advantage of registering a trade mark? 24. how may registered trade marks be transferred? wills 1. define _will_. 2. when does a will take effect? 3. can both real and personal property be disposed of by wills? 4. distinguish the terms _will_ and _testament_. 5. define and distinguish the terms _testator_ and _devisor_. 6. define the term _devise_. 7. define the term _bequeath_. 8. define and distinguish the terms _devisee_ and _legatee_. 9. what are the most common statutory requirements of a will? 10. is a will a contract? 11. by the laws of what state is a will disposing of real property governed? 12. by the laws of what state is a will disposing of personal property governed? 13. may a will be in the form of a letter addressed to a beneficiary named in the will? 14. in a will does any present interest in the property pass to the beneficiaries at the time the will is made? 15. when, if at all, may a will be revoked? 16. may a person under legal age make a will? 17. can a married woman make a will? 18. what test is applied in determining whether a person is mentally capable of making a will? 19. what kinds of property may be disposed of by will? 20. must a will be in writing? 21. may a will be printed? 22. define and describe _signing_, _attesting_, and _acknowledging a will_. 23. define and describe _publication of a will_. 24. give an example of a contract to make a will. 25. may a contract to make a will be revoked? 26. define and give an example of _holographic will_. 27. what is the distinguishing feature between a holographic will and an ordinary will? 28. define and describe _nuncupative wills_. 29. may real property be disposed of by a nuncupative will? 30. when, and by whom must a nuncupative will be reduced to writing? 31. must a nuncupative will be attested? 32. what is meant by _revocation of a will_, and by whom, when, and how may a will be revoked? 33. define and describe _alteration of a will_. 34. define _codicil_. 35. when, and how, may a lost will be proven? 36. define and give an example of _abatement_. 37. what is meant by _ademption of a legacy_? courts and legal procedure 1. define _courts_. 2. in general how may courts be classified? 3. by what authority are federal courts established? 4. what is the term of office of federal judges? 5. classify federal courts. 6. how many united states district courts are there? 7. how many united states circuit courts are there? 8. how many circuit court judges are there in each circuit? 9. do the supreme court judges and district judges have anything to do with the circuit courts? if so, what? 10. what is meant by _original jurisdiction_, as applied to a court? 11. does the united states circuit court of appeals have any original jurisdiction? 12. how many united states supreme court judges are there? 13. what, in general, is the jurisdiction of the united states supreme court? 14. where are admiralty cases tried? 15. what cases are included in term admiralty cases? 16. are juries used in the trial of _admiralty cases_? 17. by what authority are state courts established? 18. classify, in general, state courts. 19. what are courts of equity, and over what classes of cases do they have jurisdiction? 20. classify legal actions. 21. give an example of an act which is both a tort and a crime. 22. define _plaintiff_ and _defendant_. 23. define _pleadings_. 24. what is the function of a jury in the trial of a case? 25. define _verdict_, and distinguish it from judgment? 26. how are judgments enforced? index a abandonment, remedies of landlord for, 279 abatement, definition of, 295 acceptance definition of, 15 of draft, 133 acceptor of negotiable instruments, 122 rights and liabilities of, 123 acquisition of personal property, 179 act of bankruptcy, 35 act of god as affecting carriers, 225 ademption, definition of, 295 administrative law, definition of, 13 advancement, definition of, 295 adverse interest, 40 age, legal, 16, 20 agencies, irrevocable, 72 agency contracts within statute of frauds, 41 contracts which must be in writing, 41 definition of, 39 general, 43 purposes for which created, 42 ratification of, 42 special, 43 universal, 43 agents apparent authority of, 50 how appointed, 41 authority of, 43 to collect, 52 to warrant, 53 of corporations, 107 definition of, 39 delegation of authority by, 51 distinguished from master and servant, 39 duties of, to principal, 46 general, 43 principal to pay, 44 risks assumed by, 44 secret instructions of, 50 universal, 43 value of services, 44 who may be, 40 anomalous indorser, 130 appeal from one court to another, 298 assessments of corporations, 104 not included in taxes, 271 assignment of contract, 31 of insurance, 167 of lease, 269 notice of, 274 oral, 274 assignability distinguished from negotiability, 113 attestation of deeds, 245 of will, 291 attornment, definition of, 274 auctioneer, 55 b baggage what constitutes, 234 duty of innkeeper to receive, 236 sample cases, 234 bailee definition of, 205 liability of, 212 lien of, 212 right of possession of, 212 right of, against third persons, 212 right of, to use property, 212 right of, against bailor, 212 bailment classification of, 206 definition of, 205 distinguished from sale, 182 parties to, 205 for sole benefit of bailee, 208 for sole benefit of bailor, 207 what constitutes a, 206 bailor bailments for sole benefit of, 207 definition of, 205 banks checks on, 153 of circulation, 151 classified, 151 clearing houses, 157 definition of, 151 of deposit, 151 deposits in, 152 discount, 158 of discount, 151 exchange, 158 functions of, 152 interest, 158 loans of, 154 money, 157 national, 151, 155 pass books of, 153 powers of, 152 private, 151 rights of, in case of forged, altered, lost, or stolen checks, 154 savings, 156 state, 151 trust companies, 156 usury, 160 bankruptcy acts of, 35 definition of, 35 involuntary, 35 revokes agency, 59 voluntary, 35 barter, distinguished from sale, 181 bearer, negotiable instrument payable to, 112 beneficiary of trust, 266, 269 bequeath, definition of, 287 bilateral contract, definition of, 19 bill of exchange, definition of, 116 bill of lading definition of, 227 negotiability of, 227 valuation, 226 blank indorsement, 124 boarding housekeeper not an innkeeper, 235 _bona fide_ holder of negotiable instrument, 135 bonds coupon, 118 definition of, 118 form of, 118 registered, 118 breach of contract, 280 brokers definition of, 55 insurance, 55 stock, 55 real estate, 57 by-laws of corporations, 103 c capital of national banks, 293 capital stock of corporations, 103 decreasing, 105 increasing, 105 capitalization of corporations, 103 carrier act of god, 225 charges of, 230 common, 223 defined, 223 delivery of goods by, 229 delivery of goods to, 193 discrimination by, 230 of goods, 223 implied liability of, 224 interstate commerce act, 231 liability as insurer, 223 lien of, 230 limiting liability, 225 of mail, 230 negligence of shipper, 225 private, 223 public enemy, 225 stoppage _in transitu_, 229 title to goods in possession of, 227 carrier of passengers baggage, 233 definition of, 232 degree of care required of, 233 right to eject passengers, 233 rights and liabilities of, 233 casualty insurance, definition of, 166 _caveat emptor_, rule of, in sales, 188 certificate of protest, 136 certificates of deposit, 121 certificates of stock, 101 certification of checks, 118 _cestui que trust_ definition of, 265 rights and liabilities of, 269 charter of corporations, 92 chattel mortgage, 1 definition of, 247 distinguished from pledge, 218 distinguished from sale, 218 filing and recording, 220 form of, 250 mortgagee, 218 mortgagor, 218 parties to, defined, 218 possession of property, 218 redemption, 221 rights of mortgagee, 221 rights of mortgagor, 220 as security for a debt, 219 title in mortgagee, 218 chattel real, definition of, 274 chattels definition of, 128 personal, 128 real, 128 checks on banks, 153 certification of, 118 definition of, 117 when returned, 153 child may be agent, 40 choses in action, 178, 182, 219 in possession, 178, 182, 219 circulation, banks of, 151 clearing houses, 157 codicil, definition of, 294 cognovit promissory notes, 120 collateral promissory note, 120 collateral securities, definition of, 283 combination of capital distinguished from trusts, 265 commercial law, definition of, 13 compensation of agent, 44 conditional sale, definition of, 181 conflict of laws in contracts, 30 consideration adequate, 17 in contracts of suretyship, 173 definition of, 17 good, 17 illegal, 17 in negotiable instruments, 132 past, 17 to trust agreement, 321 valuable, 17 consolidation of corporations, 98 constitution definition of, 12 english, 12 limitation of, 95 constructive trusts, definition of, 268 continuing guaranty, definition of, 175 contract acceptance to, 15 as affected by duress, 28 as affected by frauds, 28 as affected by mistake, 29 agreement in, 15 assignment of, 31 bilateral, 19 breach of, 34 competent parties, 16 consideration to, 17 by correspondence, 25, 26 definition of, 14 dependent covenants in, 34 discharge of, 33 of drunkards, 22 elements of, 15 executed, 19 executory, 19 express, definition of, 18 forms of, 38 of idiots, 22 illegal, 27 implied, 18 independent covenants in, 34 of infants, 20 of insane persons, 22 of married women, 22 mutuality in, 19 offer to, 15 parties to, 16 of partnership, 77 remedies for breach of, 36 rescission of, 34 signing of, by corporation, 108 specific performance of, 37 _statu quo_ in, 34 sunday, 27 by telegraph, 25, 26 trust created by, 266 under seal, 27 unilateral, 19 voidable, 20 warranty in, 34 will not a contract, 288 corporation act through agents, 39 by-laws of, 103 calls and assessments of, 104 capitalization of, 103 certificates of stock of, 101 charter of, 92, 95 common stock of, 105 consolidation of, 98 creation of, 92 _de facto_, 96 definition of, 90 directors of, 102 dissolution of, 111 distinguished from partnership, 90 dividends of, 106 estoppel of, 95 foreign, 110 franchise of, 90 kinds of, 94 meetings and elections of, 99 names of, 93 nature of, 90 object of, 90 officers and agents of, 107 organization of, 92 powers of, 91 preferred stock of, 105 promoters of, 96 regulation of, 103 reorganization of, 197 resolution of, 103 revocation of franchise of, 91 seal of, 91, 108 stockholders of, 100 _ultra vires_ acts of, 109 voting at meetings of, 99 watered stock, 105 counterclaim good against assignee, 274 coupon bonds, 118 courts appeal from one court to another, 298 classification of, 296 definition of, 296 reports, 12 covenants in deeds, 245 dependent, 34 express, 273 implied, 273 independent, 34 of leases, 273 creditor to suretyship contract, 169 credits, definition of, 154 crime, agency to commit, 42 crimes of corporations, 185 criminal, 13 cumulative voting at corporate meetings, 99 custom as part of contract, 22 customs make law, 11, 12 d damages, definition of, 13 death of partner, 87 revokes agency, 59 debts of another, 169 secured by chattel mortgage, 219 secured by mortgage, 257 transfer of, 261 deeds acknowledgment of, 246 conclusion of, 245 covenants in, 245 definition of, 243 description of property in, 244 formal parts of, 243 habendum clause, 245 indentures, 243 as mortgages, 256 premises of, 244 quit claim, 246 redendum clause, 245 signature of, 245 trust created by, 266 warranties in, 245 witnesses to, 245 _de facto_ corporation, 96 defenses, 132 _del credere_ agency, 56 delivery in escrow, 258 of goods, 193, 229 of mortgages, 258 of personal property sold, 184 deposit indorsement for, 129 banks of, 151 devise, definition of, 287 devisor, definition of, 287 discharge of contract by bankruptcy, 35 by breach, 34 by performance, 33 by subsequent agreement, 34 by tender, 33 discount, definition of, 158 dishonor, notice of, in negotiable instruments, 36 dissolution of partnership, 87 distress, definition of, 273 distribution of assets of partnership, 88 dividends of corporations, 106 divisions of law, 12 domestic exchange, 158 dower estates definition of, 31 cannot be taken away by will, 288 draft definition of, 116 presentment and acceptance of, 133 drawee of negotiable instrument, 122 drunkard contracts of, 22 cannot enter into partnership, 78 duration of estates, 239 duress as affecting wills, 289 as defense to payment of negotiable instrument, 131 as defense to suretyship contract, 176 definition of, 28 duties of agent to principal, 46 of partners to each other, 84 of partners to third persons, 85 of principal to agent, 44 e election of corporations, 99 elements of a contract, 15 emblements, definition of, 236 enemy, public, as affecting carrier, 225 equity courts of, 37, 300 definition of, 37 of redemption in chattel mortgages, 221 of redemption in real estate, 263 estate, trust, 265 estates in land, 239 estoppel, of corporation from denying existence, 95 partnerships by, 77 exchange barter, 181 definition of, 158 of goods not a sale, 181 executed contract, definition of, 19 execution of contracts of corporations, 108 definition of, 300 of leases, 273 of negotiable instruments, 108 executory contract, definition of, 19 exempt property, 206 express contract, definition of, 18 express trusts, definition of, 266 f f. o. b., definition of, 227 factors, definition of, 54 federal court, 297 fee simple estates, definition of, 239 females, legal age of, 16 fictitious name of partnership, 79 fidelity insurance, definition of, 169 foreclosure of chattel mortgages, 222 foreclosure of mortgages, 264 foreign corporation, 110 foreign exchange, 158 forfeiture of leases, 279 forgery of negotiable instruments, 130 ratification of, 42 forms of bond, 119 of certificates of deposit, 121 of certificates of protest, 136 of certificates of stock, 101 of cognovit note, 120 of collateral note, 120 of contract, 38 of judgment note, 120 of partnership agreement, 89 of will, 296 franchise of corporation, 90 fraud defense, of in suretyship, 176 definition of, 28 effect of, upon lease, 277 effect of, on sale, 188 renders contract voidable, 28 freehold estates, definition of, 239 g gambling contracts void, 28 gift of personal property, 179 government warehouses, 209 grace, days of, 134 guarantor contract of, 171 notices to, 175 guaranty continuing, 175 general, 175 letter of, 175 limited, 175 special, 175 guests, duty of innkeeper to receive, 235 h habendum clause in deed, 245 hereditaments, 236 highways, how established, 238 holder in due course of negotiable instrument, 135 holographic wills, 293 homestead estates, 241 hotelkeeper (see innkeeper), 235 i idiot contracts of, 22 cannot enter into partnership, 78 cannot be a principal, 40 relation to contract, 16 illegal acts cannot be ratified, 42 illegal agencies void, 42 illegal consideration, 17 illegal contracts, 27 implied contract, definition of, 18 implied contract of bailment, 206 implied trusts, definition of, 267 implied warranty, definition of, 189 indemnity in suretyship, 178 indorser anomalous, 130 blank, 124 for collection, 129 contract of, in suretyship, 172 for deposit, 129 in full, 126 irregular, 172 liability of, 130 without recourse, 128 infant may be agent, 40 contracts of, 20 definition of, 40 may be partner, 78 cannot be principal, 40 may be trustee, 265 infringement of trade mark, 283 innkeeper definition of, 235 duties and liabilities of, 235 lien of, 236 innocent purchaser for value without notice, 135 insane person may be agent, 40 insane person to contract, 16 insane person cannot be partner, 78 insolvency of purchaser, 193 insurable interest, definition of, 162 insurance assignment of, 167 broker, 55 contract, 160 definition of, 160 fidelity and casualty, 166 kinds of, 162 life policies, 165 marine policies, 165 open policy, 168 representations in contracts of, 164 standard policies, 166 suicide clauses in policy of, 166 term policies, 165 tontine policies, 165 underwriter's, 161 valued policy, 168 warranties in contracts of, 173 who must pay on leased premises, 271 interstate commerce act, 231 involuntary bankruptcy, 35 irrevocable agencies, 59 j joint liability of parties, 32 judgment definition of, 300 promissory note, 120 justice of peace court, definition of, 299 l landlord and tenant attornment, 274 definition of, 269 implied warranty, 270 lease, 269 notice, 279 rent, 272 taxes, repairs, and insurance, 271 law administrative, 13 commercial, 13 constitutional, 12 criminal, 13 definition of, 11 division of, 12 private, 13 public, 13 sources of, 12 statute, 12 unwritten, 12 written, 12 law merchant, 113 leases acknowledgment of, 273 assignment of, 269 covenants of, 273 definition of, 269 forfeiture of, 279 form of, 273 recording, 273 signing, 273 termination of, 279 transfer of, 274 witnessing, 273 legal tender, 33, 157 legatee, definition of, 287 lessee, definition of, 269 lessor, definition of, 269 liabilities of agent and principal, 46 of agent to third person, 47 of partners to each other, 84 of principal to agent, 44 of undisclosed principal, 48 lien of bailee, 212 of carrier, 230 at common law, 212 how enforced, 212 of innkeeper, 236 seller's, 193 life estates, 240 life policies of insurance, 165 limited partnership, 89 loans, definition of, 154 lost wills, how proven, 294 m magistrate, court of, definition of, 299 males, legal age of, 16 marine insurance, definition of, 165 married women, contracts of, 22 membership, changes of, in partnership, 86 mercantile agencies, definition of, 154 minds, meeting of, 15 mistake of fact, 29 mistake of law, 29 money, definition of, 157 mortgagee, definition of, 218, 256 mortgages debt secured by, 257 deeds as, 256 definition of, 255 delivery of, 258 elements of, 258 equity of redemption, 263 foreclosure of, 264 parties to, 256 of personal property, 218 recording, 260 satisfaction of, 262 transfer of, 261 mortgagor definition of, 256 rights of, 220 mutuality in contracts, 19 n national banks capital of, 155 how created, 155 u. s. corporation, 92 necessaries, definition of, 20 negligence gross, 210 liability of agent for, 46 ordinary, 210 of shipper, 225 slight, 210 negotiable instruments _bona fide_ holder of, 135 definition of, 112 forgery of, 130 origin of, 112 parties to, 122 presentment and acceptance, 133 presentment for payment of, 135 promissory notes, 114 purpose of, 112 requisites of, 122 signing, by corporations, 108 negotiability of bill of lading, 227 definition of, 112 distinguished from assignability, 113 note cognovit, 120 collateral, 120 definition of, 114 judgment, 120 nuncupative wills, 293 o open insurance, 168 oral assignment of leases, 274 oral contract, 41 organization of corporation, 92 ostensible partner, definition of, 79 p partners agreement of, 81 definition of, 77 distribution of assets of, 88 duties of, to each other, 84 kinds of, 79 powers of, 82 property of, 82 survivorship of, 87 withdrawal of, 86 partnership, 77-90 pass book of banks, 153 pawnbrokers, 55 payee of negotiable instrument, 122 partial assignments, 274 perpetual succession of corporation, 91 perpetuities, rule against, 239 personal property definition of, 178 mortgages of, 218 possession of, 179 sale of, 179 title to, 179 transfer of, 179 pledgee, definition of, 214 pledges, definition of, 213 pledgor, definition of, 214 preferred stock, 105 principal, definition of, 39 q quit claim deed, definition of, 246 quorum at corporate meetings, 99 r real property, definition of, 236 redemption equity of, in real estate mortgage, 263 mortgagor's right of, in chattel mortgage, 221 of pledged property, 217 redendum clause in deed, 245 registration of corporation, 103 registration of trade marks, 286 reinsurance, definition of, 167 remainder, estates in, 212 rent action by landlord to recover, 281 definition of, 272 when payable, 272 reorganization of corporation, 97 rescission of contract, definition of, 34 of sale by reason of fraud, 188 revocation of agency, 58 revocation of offer, 25 revocation of wills, 294 rights, definition of, 11 s sale caveat emptor, 188 definition of, 179 distinguished from bailment, 182 implied warranty, 190 of pledged property, 214 of trade mark, 283 savings banks definition of, 156 deposits in, 152 pass books of, 153 seal contract under, 27 definition of, 27 private, 27 use of, by corporation, 108 signature of agent to written instruments, 53 to deeds, 245 to a will, 291 silent partner, definition of, 79 spoliated wills, how proven, 294 _statu quo_, definition of, 35 statute of frauds as affecting contracts, 23 agency contracts within, 41 as applied to leases, 273 contracts of suretyship within, 174 partnership contracts within, 78 in sales, 183 statutes, definition of, 12 stock common, 105 increasing and decreasing, 105 preferred, 105 watered, 105 stockholders of a corporation, 102 stoppage _in transitu_, 193, 229 storage companies, 209 subagents, 51 subletting, 272 subrogation in suretyship, 177 sufferance estates at, 242 leases at, 277 sunday contracts illegal, 27 surety contract of, 170 surety companies, 177 suretyship, 169-178 survivorship in partnership, 87 t taxes, 271 tearing wills, 294 telegraph, contracts by, 25 tenancies at sufferance, 277 from year to year, 278 for years, 275 at will, 277 tenant, definition of, 269 tender, definition of, 33 tenements, definition of, 236 testament, definition of, 287 testator, definition of, 287 third persons contracts for benefit of, 21 property held for benefits of, 265 title to negotiable instruments, 215 title to personal property, 179 pledged property, 215 real property, 243 trust property, 266 tontine policies of insurance, 165 torts, 46, 111 trade marks, 282 trade name, 284 _transitu_, stoppage in, 193, 229 treaties, definition of, 12 trust companies, definition of, 156 trustees, 265 trusts, 265 beneficiary of, 266 classified, 265 consideration to, 267 how created, 266 u _ultra vires_ acts of corporation, 109 underwriter, definition of, 161 undisclosed principal, 48 unfair trade, 285 unilateral contract, definition of, 19 universal agents, 43 unwritten law, 12 usury, 160 v valued insurance, 168 verdict, definition of, 300 voluntary bankruptcy, 36 voting by proxy, 99 w wagering contracts void, 28 warehousemen, 209 warranties in deeds, 245 in insurance contract, 164 warranty in contracts, 34 deeds, 244 express, 189 implied, 190 watered stock of corporations, 105 wife, dower of, 288 will ademption, 295 codicil, 294 creation of trusts by, 266 definition of, 287 duress, 290 estates at, 242 form of, 296 holographic, 293 leases at, 277 nature of, 288 nuncupative, 293 publication of, 292 revocation of, 294 signature to, 291 statutes regulating making of, 288 who may make, 289 witnessing, 291 witnesses to deeds, 245 to a will, 291 written law, 12 transcriber's note: -obvious print and punctuation errors were corrected.