Evening Star Newspaper, December 10, 1922, Page 77

3 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, WHEN EFFIE CAME THROUGH For Her Partnership With Trilby May Is Arranged and She Sets Out to Conduct the Handy Andy Branch No. I—Andy Millish Makes Successful Tour of Park Benches and Lodging Houses for the Staff—Harold Is Very Much Surprised, But Finally Admits He Is Beaten. BY SEWELL FORD. NYWAY, the big thing is to take a chance. T've never seen that motto pinned over the desk of any merchant prince or self-made plute, and I doubt 1f one of 'em would hand out any such advice. But where would they be if they hadn’t followed that line? I'm only Trilby May Dodge, I admit; and 1 haven't pulled any wonders as yet. But you've got to remember that I| had a standing start from Tamarack | Junction, Minn., and that If I hadn't made a wide jump with my eyes shut 1'd be stuck there yet. So this hunch of mine can't be such poor dope, tan ) L T'll say. too, that I was taking some chance when 1 let this Mrs. Adshaw ease herself in as my partner in the Handy Andy Shop. For she look- ed about as much like the typical business woman as a limousine looks like a coal truck. One of these fluffy. sushy blonds, if you remember, who had been married so long to a ring- master hubby that she hardly dared | buy a new set of halr nets without getting his O. K. on the deal. Oh, ¥es. that sort of fireside Judga Landis still exists in spite of the nineteenth | amendment. He'd been head book- keeper in her father's china importing | furs and her gloves and her vanity r ibe a business woman?’ I demands. “Well. the way to be one is to do business. That's all there is to it. Make a stab at it, Mrs. Adshaw.” - “Please, Trilby May," says she Mrs. Adshaw, now that we know each other so well.” “What shall says L “My name is Effie,” says she. “I might have guessed,” says l. * % X X ES, she looked like an Effie, if you get what I mean. little hands, and a soft little voice, and soft little ways. 1 could feature I call you, then?' | cooing to afternoon callers, or en- | gineering a charity bridge party: but comeback to any things done In a hurry. ibound to give her a chance. |I. “You go up on upper Broadway ' and scout around for a sultable shop. When you've located two or three that you think might do, just 'phone | me and I'll run up and we'll have a | sidewalk conference over 'em.” | “All right,” says she. “I—TIl try." “MY DUTY TO MY CLIENT COMPELS ME. MISS DODGE.” SAYS HE. ~TO WARN HER THAT IN FINANC- ING THIS PROPOSAL OF YOURS SHE IS TAKING A BIG RISK.” firm, but after he married daughter | case and toddled off on her high heels, “ handling them was somewhat dif!ar-‘ and the business he'd developed into | while I smothered a chuckle. I could | ent from mine. a regular Mr. Blah-blah and had just picture Effie walking a few tamed wifie to a state where she got | blocks looking for vacant wabbly in the knees when she sub- | peering timid into one or two, spend- mitted the monthly grocer’s bill. {ing half an hour trying to get up But Mrs. Adshaw had broken loose | courage to tackle a real estate agent, while her Harold was off on a busi- | getting panicky by the minute, and ness trip. tell how T wanted to stretch a chain |brace herself with an ice cream soda. | while. of 0dd-job shops all over the map, and | Yet it was three or four hours later she had declded that it would be just when she called me up. lovely to be doing things like that; “Found anything?” I asked. herself. 1 wasn't wild about having | “I believe so,” says she, “but T wish Mrs. Adshaw's help, but I did need her | you could come right up.” money, so we had made a trade of it.| “But dldn't you say you wanted to She had soft her pouring tea for the minister, or |1 couldn’t fancy her giving the snappy one or getting| Still, I was “I'll tell you, Mrs.—er—Effie,” says P i HE thing wasn't so easy, at that; for when she called in her lawyer to fix up the papers he turned out to be a cagey old boy, who looked over the top of his glasses at me as sus- picious as if I was trying to swap a bale of rubles for a dollar in real monay. “Pardon me, Mrs. Adshaw.” says he, “but this appears to me to be quite a. new and untried enterprise.” “So was Bell telephone once upon a time.” I suggested. “‘And the kodak and the Woolworth proposi- ery true.” says he. “But for one big success I could name a hundred failures. Have you consulted your husband about this investment, Mrs. Adshaw?” “Oh, no, indeed.” she gurgles. “Har- old wouldn’t hear of It. He thinks I haven't sense enough to manage my own household affairs. But I want to show him that I really have quite a good head for business.” “H-m-m!" says the lawyer, patting his white sidewhiskers. “I can hardly advise such a speculative venture.” “Did anybody call on you for ad- vice?" I breaks in. “Not that I mo- ticed. Your job is to frame up a part- nership that will work. But say, If you can’'t cut out this old-family- sollcitor stuff, just speak the word and we'll hunt up another office.” That seemed to stiffen him up like Jabbing a hatpin through a piece of spaghetti. “My duty to my client compels me, Miss Dodge,” says he, “to warn her that in financing this pro- posal of yours she is taking a big risk.’ “Sure!” says I. “She knows all that. If 1 had a cinch would I be tossing away part of it to a stranger? Not me. And if Mra Adshaw doesn’t want to take the chance she has still lots of time to back out.” “But 1 do,” insists Mrs. Adshaw. “Really, I do. It is my money and I don’t care what Harold would think. I want to help Miss Dodge spread her Handy Andy shops all over the coun- try. So there!” That settled him. And by noon next day the firm of Dodge & Co. was all incorporated, with me holding con- trol of the stock, a balance of $10,000 in the bank, and Mrs. Adshaw fluttery and excited over being made secretary and treasurer. - “Now, how do we begin?" says she. “Why,” says I, “the idea was, wasn't i | | says I the right number. 116th street, isn't it? Yes, Very well.” And I found her sitting on a chair|of four and had them ranged in front in front of a hand laundry watching|of her. a gang of movers load a gas mangle into a van. “Doesn’t this seem store?” says she. like a good be vacant in half an hour. prietor is going out of business. | | | i | | 1 | park benches and lodging houses once With that she gathered up her mink | uniform at so much per week. stores, | gurgly greeting. She had listened to ma;flnally drifting into a candy shop to | make yourself comfortable for a Tittle | i “Be with you in twenty minutes |took their places on the bench like “Now let me be sure I have|so many schoolboys. that's near!checked them all off she looked them | “It's the onlyavail- | gon who was wearing two coats and {able one for five blocks, and it Will | had the pockets of both stuffed with The pro-|old newspapers. He | with us, lady ! decided only this morning, when he | got a letter from his brother., wWho | straigt up and down glance, “that it wants him to move to Oregon and|wi]l not be necessary for me to go help run a big apple farm that is pay- | into details. He never did like the | jg all. ing very well. laundry business, anyway: but he has a three-year lease on this place and several persons have offered him a | thing unpleasant, leered at her for & He hasn't the ad- | moment. then followed the wave of dresses, though. and he's In a hurry | her pencil and departed. to leave, 50 he sald if I'd take it over | other three. bonus to sublet. before 5 o'clock he'd let it go for just what he was paying and throw in the | gtand up. please. Thank you. vent for the rest of this month. ‘Was that right?” “I should say it was very nearly |a Handy Andy shop. You are to be “Yes, this is just|sent out to do odd jobs in houses, light, | apartments, perfect,” says I. about what we need—good plenty of floor space and the right location. Where's your ex-laundry- man?’ “Mr. Blocker?” says she. “He's in back there. Shall I—" N “Sure!” says I. “Tie it up before those bonus hounds show up again.” And inside of an hour the papers were all signed and we had a home for branch No. 1 of the Handy Andy Shops, Ltd. “Goodness!” says Effie, as she lock- ed the front door and dropped the key in her vanity box. “I am so excited. T almost feel that I am really a busi- Bess woman." “You're beginning to make a noise like ome,” says 1. “Anyway, you've pulled off one deal that was rather shifty. Now, let's see how long it will take you to furnish the shop and organize a force.” “Must I do that, t00?” she asks. “Why not?” says I. “I'll lend you Andy Millish to drum up recruits and Yyou can advertise for work solicitors. You know the system. Besides, if you get stuck, all you have to do is call me on the ‘phone.” * x % * HAD an idea she would be ringing me up about every half hour for. the next few days. But she didn't. “t, to establish an uptown bnnch?ls‘"'-‘ehfl"- in her soft way, Effie had Suppose you do that first.” the knack of doing things on her own “Me!" sgys she, gaspy and with her | hook. At least, when I dropped in baby blue eves rolled. “Do—do you think I could do that all alone? Why, I shouldn’t know how to start in.” “Well, that's simple enough,” says 1. “Your first move is to lease a va- cant store. Pick eut a likely looking block, not too far from a subway station, and one with enough floor and not too much. The rent shouldn’t be too high, elther; and 'if the agent tries to unioad a lot of use- less fixtures on you tell him it can’t be done. After that, you see about having the phone connected, and she light and water meters put in, and then—" “Wait, Trilby May!” she begs. . on her a couple of days later she had the shop all equipped.:a neat sign out, dainty curtains at the front window and was nearly ready to take orders. Also, she had shed most of her friils, including the pearl ear danglers and her rings. She had costumed herself in a plain blue serge tailored sult and squareed-toed walking shoes and had two lead pencils tucked into the blond masses of her permanent wave. She was dictating to a serious- faced young lady stenographer who ‘wore bone-rimmed glasses. “Just a few rules and regulations for my Handy Andy,” she explained. “I thought I would have them typed 1 haven't been used to doing things|and posted so they would know ex- like that, you know, and T'm afraid dn't.” e actly what was expected of them. Twenty or more are to report here 1 I/ you to know just what sort of work made him give me a two-hour option. | you will be asked to do and on what i to come in. very soon, and I'm so glad you came, Trilby May, for you'll be able to pick out the ones we shall want.” “Oh, your guess will be as good as mine,” says I. “No, Effie, I'm going to sit on the side lines and watch you do 1t “Well, then, it T must,” says she. “I _did engage two young men as so- licitors, all by myself. T felt so fool- ish at first when the applicants began But finally T selected two from the lot, and they do seem to be doing nicely. Oh, yes. In one after- noon they brought in all these orders. So I must have & lot of men ready to o to work in the morning. Isn’t that splendid?” “And not so slow, either,” T com- mented. ‘Now, I've just got to stay and see you do your stuff. 1 may get some pointers.” Half an hour later the bunch be- gan to collect, and, as maybe you can imagine, they were a rough-looking lot. Andy Millish had scoured the more and he had collected perhaps two dozen down-and-outers who claimed they could do odd jobs and were willing to wear a blue denim I will say that Effie’s method of Andy uniforms.” “Eh?" says he. “What's a2 Handy Andy? And why are you here?” “Me?” says she. “Oh, I'm one of the firm and manager of branch No. 1. I—I've gone into business, Harold, with Miss Dodge. This is Miss Dodge. She's the one who Invented the Handy Andy system. And we're going to have a chain of our shops, you know, extend- ing all over the country. Isn't It per- fectly thrilling, Harold * Ok % ¥ F Harold was thrilled he concealed it well. Actually, you would have thought he was annoyed. “Listen, Effie,’ he commanded. “You don't mean to tell me that you have actually put money into a crazy scheme like this, do you?' “Why, yes,” she admits. a little—$10,000, you know. “Wha-a-a-t!"” howled Harold. thousand dollars—in—in thi “My own money, Harold" ghe sug- gested. “But you know nothing about busi- ness, nothing at all.” he protested. «Oh, yes, 1 do,” says she. At least. Miss Dodge thinks I do.” “Miss Dodge does!” says he. “Bah “Much obliged for the compliment, says I. At which he simply glared at me. “But only Ten “Effie.” he went on, “this is the silllest freak I've ever known you to indulge in. Why, when they told me at the house you were off at some ort of shop you'd started I couldn’t !believe it. Oh, the butler knew the|grooves. whole story. You had left a phone | number where you could be callednot know how to think consecutively. and he'd looked it up. But I told him he must be mistaken. Y when I rrive here—well, find this'” “Yes, Harold,” says she. “Isn’t it a ice shop?” “Bah!” says he. “Do you suppose morrow when they get on their Handy | | T'm going to allow this? Think I'm | chump enough to stand one side and | see you lose all your money In such a | ool enterprise?” | “Now, Harold,” sa | excited and talk loud. Tell me about {vour trip to San Francisco. What . about that jobber out there who had failed? Could you make him pay you any of the money he owed you?" “No, confound it!” snarls Harold. | “But what's that go to do—" “There, you see!" says Efle. “You're inot always such a shrewd business man yourself. And you haven't been idoing so well with china importing lately. You've said so yourself. And, ias you'll not let me help in that, I've \found a business of my own—that s, ' mine and Miss Dodge's—and before | very long we're going to be making just heaps and heaps of money. Aren't we, Trilby May?” “Yes, Effie,” savs 1. “At least, | hope to. she, “don’t get we “Huh!"” says Mr. Harold Adshaw. ERE N other and more fortunate occa- O sions Harold might have been quite a fluent converser, but just now he could seem to think of nothing much to say. So he stood and glared, first at me and then at Effle. Now, don't try looking at me like that, Harold.” said Mrs. Adshaw, tap- ping her desk with the end of a pen- cll. “It isn't going to do the least bit of good this time. Yes, I know that's the way you used to frighten me until I cried. But I'm much too “How do vou do?’ was her rather “Your name, please? And what sort of work can you do, if you don’t mind? Ah, thank you. Now will you kindly take a seat over on that bench? That's right. Just| Now the next man.” i * ok ok % OME of ‘em grinned sheepish. some scowled as if they thought they were being kidded, but all of them ‘When she had | over carefully, called out the names “I'm very sorry,” says she. “but I'm afraid you men will not do.” “Hey?" says one bleary-eyed per- | | | | “Wot's the matter | | “I think,” says Effie, giving him the | I'm not hiring you, that And vou will please pass out at once. Good afternoon.” The blear-eyed one growled some- So did the “Now, men.” says she, “will you all Iwant terms. You see, we are establishing clubs—anywhere. We want you to be prompt, efficient and courteous.” Well, it was a perfectly nice little lecture she was giving them; all very much to the point and straight from the shoulder, but sprinkled with little smiles and “if-you-pleases.” I doubt if any of them had been talked to so gently and smoothly in years. At first they didn’t seem to know quite how to take it, but gradually they appeared to be getting interested and enthusiastic. Inside of five minutes I could see that Effle had captured the lot. They were with her to a man, and when she finished a red- headed party in paint-smeared trous- ers and an old khakl overcoat stepped out of the line and made an impulsive reply. “You're the goods, lady,” says he. “You can bank on us. How about it, boys?” “You bet she can!” said another, and it was taken up in chorus, And it was right in the midst of this that I looked up and saw this bug-eyed person in the fur-trimmed overcaat stayding in the doorway staring at the porformance with his mouth open. “Effle!” he gasped. “Why, Harold!" says she, turning. “Wha—what does all this mean?” he demanded. “Just « moment, Harold,” says she. Then, to the line of Handy Andy: “Thank you very much, men,” she went on. “I'm sure we are going to big success of branch No. 1. You will all be here promptly at 7:30 in the morning, I know. That is all. Good- night.” And Harold, with his mouth still open, stood aside while the force filed out. 2 “For the love bf soup. Effte,”” he blustered, “what is all this tommy- rot about? What.are you doing here in that rig? And who are those roughnecks? : “Now, Harold!" protests Effie. “You mustn’t call them that, reaily. They may look a' little rough new, but they'll look ever so meat by to-{lump coal busy to weep now. See, I must check up all these orders and write out as- signments for the men, 80 as to be ready to send them out the first thing tomorrow morning. You'd better run along home and dress for dinner. Don't wait for me if I'm a little late, for I've told the butler to keep some- thing hot for me.” “Ye gods!" groans Harold. “Has it come to this? I'm to run along home, am 1?7 “Well, you may stay here if you'll be quiet and not interfere,” says Effie. “You sece, this is a business that you don’t understand at all, Harold, and I'd rather you wouldn't make sugges- tions. Probably they'd be wrong, any- way. Now be a good boy and——" “Woman!” he roars. “Don’t you un- derstand? I absolutely forbid you to g0 on with this absurd affair. Do you hear?” “Of course I hear, Harold.” savs] she. “And I've no doubt people cai hear you all up and down the block. “Well?” says he. Effie threw her head back and gig- gled. “See here demanded Harold. “What do you miean by that”" “Oh, nothing much,” says she. “I'm sorry, but I just couldn't help it. I got to' thinking of something Miss ! Dodge sald about that sort of thing. “It must have been very humorous, “What was it?” says she, “that's what she calls blah-blah—big business blah- blah. I suppose it works in certain instances and on certain people. Per- haps I shall be doing that myuelf!nmel day. Wouldn't that sound funny trom | me, Harold”" “Ya. esays Harold, dividing another glare equally between us be- fore he dashed out and slammed the door. “There!” says EffMe. “Now that's over, and much sooner than I ex- pected.” *“You think he's through. then?” I asked. “Oh, yes,” says she, cheerful. “Har- old never goes out and slams the door unless he’s beaten. But he was sur- prised, wasn't he’ “If he wasn't,” says I, “he gave s very good imitation.” (Copyright, 1922, by Bewell Ford.) | i = 1 Pulverized Coal. | WITH the commercial advent of pulverized coal many engineers ‘who made preliminary tests with the substance drew conclusions that it|capped in the Ford Motor Company |asked. would never become an important fac- |on that account, provided he does not | chuckle, “Emerson is a pup.” tor In power development. At that time the ‘remarkable ability of the internal combustion engine became whole, were given but a short period of life. Investigations have proved, however, that coal as a power factor will live for many years to come, at |trained and cautious man would not, | he got the idea from Emerson or not, least in this country, as the United |may stumble upon things, make dis-|I do not know—! States contains more than half the {coveries the trained man would not|with him. avalilable coal deposits of the world. Pulverized coal has one decided ad- [rush in where angels fear to tnadirepa‘nu St. Paul's definition of faith. smoke- |are, at least, in possession of some And faith and ‘optimism in business Injecting the pulverized ma- |experience, if not some facts, entirely have certainly figured in his success. vantage—it burns almost lessly. terial into the furnace is accomplish- ed by much simpler means also than yerised coal than in those employing L D., C., DECEMBER 10, 1922—PART 4. -z d, Edison and Burroughs, as Friends, Exhibited an Undying Spirit of Youth Motor Manufacturer, Like Naturalist, Reveals Love of Nature, of Birds and Flowers, Streams and Hills—Makes Friendly Call With Ten-Year-Old Boy at Squirrel’s Home in Woods—Cornfield Left Uncut to Provide Food for Little Animals—Front Dogr of Home Locked When Robin Builds Nest in Veranda—Edison Recalls Boyhood by Serving Once More as Newsboy on Train and Sending Wire Message, While Ford Climbs Into Cab and Runs Engine. BY S. S. MARQUIS, D. D. (Continued From Last Sunday.) . CHAPTER VI. MENTAL TRAITS AND CHARAC- | TERISTICS. CROSS section of the mind of Henry Ford would reveal some striking contrasts. There are In him mental altitudes which mark him as a genius and there are points below mental sea -level. A complex mind of strength and weak- ness, of wisdom and foolishness—a | mind the shallows in which are the more pronounced because of the pro- | found depths which lie between. Mr. Ford has limitations which stand out the more conspicuously be- | cause of the far reaches of his mind | in other directions. He has alto- gother a most unusual mind—in some respects the most remarkable mind l! have ever known. Call It Insight, in- | tuition, vision, or what you please, he has a supernormal perceptive faculty | }amng certain lines in business affairs. His mind does not move in logical | It does not walk, it leaps. | It is not a trained mind. It does! {and I doubt if it would do mo 1f it! could. It cannot endure the pace| and bear the burden of logic, and it cannot listen long to the man who is reaching conclusions through ra- Itional processes. [ have known him frequently to cut in and give a man a decision before he has had time to state his case, and sometimes the de- cision has had nothing whatever to do with the case. Under such cir- cumstances there was no use trying to get the real problem before him. A later opportunity must be waited | for. He does not reason to conclusions. He jumps at them. A bad thing, un- less the jump, as in his case, is as a rule more unerring than the slow, reasoned crawl of other minds. He has told me that he learned early in life “to grab the first hunch.” His first impulses, he insists, are, as a rule, to be relied upon and acted upon. He maintains that if he stops to reason about them, to discuss them, to seek advice regarding them, he finds them trimmed, pared and flled down until they fit Into the conven- tional ruts and there is nothing left that is really worth doing. * ¥ Kk (MONCERNING matters in general. he U seems to enjoy a discussion, but concerning matters pertaining to his own business on which his mind is made up—and it generally is—he seems annoyed by opposing opinion “Get out and send me an optimist, he once said to an executive who was iventuring to question the wisdom of | some policy decidea upon. “I want fto talk to an optimist.” And that glves you another definition of an —he s the man who agrees with you. He has the courage of his convic- tions, and I have never known him to change his mind on an important matter, once it was made up. Minds that work intuitively, I have observ- ed, have a feeling of finality in re- gard to their decisions—the feminine mind on occasions, for example. It is so because * * * it is so. And there is an end to the matter. This, in my opinion, is the chief reason for the high rate of mortality among Ford executives. A4s you know, the rate is high. The Ford executive has added to those two certainties in life, taxes and death, a third—that is, discharge. Of the man climbing up in the Ford organization it may be said that he hath but a short time to live and is full of misery. He cometh up and is cut down like a flower. He never continueth for long on the job. A judge of national re- pute once said to me: “I have a great admiration for Henry Ford. but there is one thing about him that I regret and can’t understand, and that is his inability to keep his executives and old-time friends about him." The an- swer fs: It is not a matter of in- ability, but disability. He can't help it. He is built that way. It is my impression that in busineas organizations men are hired as ex- ecutives . and paid. among other things, for their judgment and ad- vice. The greatest possible liberty of thought and action is given an executive in the Ford Motor Company that can be given in a company that is a one-man affair and is controlled by a single-track mind. Mr. Ford's favorite executive seems to be the man who does not think, either from choice or lack of ability, and does what he is told to do regardless of consequences. In addition to this, 1 have been told by those who enjoy his special favor, one must maintain an attitude toward the employes that makes them fear and hate you. “I am the most fortunate man in this organization. because every one de- spises me,” is the way one of ‘them put it to me. The theory seems to be that because the employes dislike you, you must be a whale of an ex- ecutive. It is not every man that is so constituted that he cares to pay the price asked for a position of this kind. pleasure in running a business of | was Drummond’ their own in a way that wins respect | the World.” and enables them to enjoy a few |found him curled up on the sofa read- friendships. A college-trained man is ot handi- place too much emphasis on' the fact. Mr. Ford has his own theory of edu- catlon. opportunities. It is possible that an untrained |up and look for a dictionary. man, in attempting that which a ‘The fou: be likely to make. Ec unknown to the angels. A man may be It i not that a man things that are tau [orlglnallty by conventional training. erson. There are those who get more | greatest books he had ever read. It I have never heard him ex-|fortably settled down to the reading get on nicely together and make a|known and coal-power engines, as a |press any regret over his owa limited | of him when he uses a word I do not very ignorant man, | that Henry Ford is a diligent reader with Jump coal. Boiler repairs are|from the college student’s point of [of Holy Scripture or a student of less frequent in factories using puil- |view, and still be a very wise man.|Emerson. He is neither. As a manu- 1s ignorant of the | tacturer, he 1s naturally immersed in ht in the echooly [a ses of practical affairs, to the sur- HENRY FORD AND THE LATE JOHN BURROUGHS, NATURALIST. that counts against him, but rather, |face of which there rise once in a being lignorant of these things, he|while bubbles of mysticism, haunting sometimes suffers on account of his | suggestions of “the plan,” a shadowy lack of knowledge of his own limita- | Calvinistic belief in fate or fore- tions. If Henry Ford knew his 1imi- |ordination, the serenities of one con- tations he undoubtedly would not:scious of being 2 child of destiny. have attempted some things which |But his vast material interests are have impaired his reputation. How- |first. He s more interested in things ever, I am inclined to think that it isithan in thoughts. He perhaps reads just as well that not all men go toa blue print more readily and more college. Now and then an original | understandingly than he reads mind escapes the suppression of its Tolstoy, Darwin, Maeterlinck and Em- There are hundreds of men I am sure that many parsons would 'figuring prominently in the business have better mental light and venti- 'world of no greater erudition than lation if they had not had the windows ' he, but on matters with which they of their minds filled up with stained ! are not famillar they have the gift of glass in theological seminaries. 1 silence and a correspondingly low have met men who, I am sure. are | visibility. more interesting for having grown up without scholarly inhibitions. In the : case of Henry Ford, however, I am inclined to belleve that the gains' would have more than offset the' losses. i CHAPTER VI ~JUST KIDS.” ENRY FORD was born 1862, and is still a boy. Along :with the amazing shrewdness in him to | there is a charming simplicity, “How * k% ¥ HERE is one peculiar danger which men of wealth untrained in did he impress you?" I asked a well | the scholastic sense are exposed—the : known writer after she had an in- danger of assuming that, because they | terview with Mr. Ford. “He is a mix- have made a great success and shown | ture,” she replied, “'of sweetness and exceptional ability in one field of |steel, of vision and practical shrewd- action, that therefore tlieir opinions ! ness. of humor and authority, and of are of equal weight in all others. It belief—belief in men. in nature” does not follow, because a man has|The steel is there—I have witnessed worked up from 2 job as section hand , it strike and cut. with the sparks fiy- to that of raflroad president, that he |ing from it—and also the sweetness. 1s a final authority on beetles and, Children especlally call forth the butterflies. If does not follow, be- sweetness, the gentleness. the spirit cause a man without training has of Youth. the love of nature, which | mode important sclentific and me-|are présent in him. As between chanlcal discoveries, that he has the | youth and age. he seems to prefer the last word to say on religion and phi- | company of youth. Introduce him to losophy. Mr. Ford now and then en-a group of people in which there are ters fields of action for which he has | rinety-nine adults and one child. and not the epecial fitness that distin- | the one child will receive the major guishes him in his own particular ! portion of his attention, and besides fleld. But it is human to desire a that will have a bully good time. wider scope for the exercise of our| I have known him to spend the bet- taculties. Even parsons in some in-|ter part of a day in the woods with stances feel peculiarly fitted to give'a boy of ten. and both were ap- big business men a lot of advice. parently having the time of thelr Mr. Ford is not the illiterate man lives. “Come with me, boy." he sald: that some have maliciously tried to | “I want to show You Ssome of my make him out. His reading is lim- friends.” ited, but he reads—not the heavy We were in a little cottage in the tomes of history, philosophy, political | edge of the woods on the banks of science and the like, but what, for the the Rouge just above Mr. Ford's resi- want of a better name, T would call | dence at Dearborn. He slipped a pair the life books. He once gave me a ! of opera glasses into his pocket and volume in which he had inscribed his |he and the boy started out on a name. He gave it to me, he said, be- | “hike” I was not included in the cause he considered it ome of the invitation, but decided to join what I HENRY FORD AND MISS HELEN KELLER. knew would be an interesting expedi- tion of exploration. A few rapid strides and then a pause. “Listen, boy. Hear {t? | Hear that song? Quiet. now! “Greatest Thing In One Sunday afternoon I Hear it? ing Emerson. Don't “How do you like him?' he was|move. He's right there in that tree “Oh,” he replied with a somewhere.” And out came the opera {glasses. * ihim. Take the glasses, bo; at him. He's on the very tip of that limb. He's a beauty, isn’'t he?” There were feathered friends everywhere. He protects them the vear round. feeds them in winter, knows their | song and calls them by name. He loves the birds. How much, 1 {once discovered on going to his home i for dinner. The front door was lock- |ed. From tha inside he called to us. informing us that it would be neces- {sary to go to a rear entrance to gain | admittance. ter the manner of our | reception was explained. A robin had built her nest on the veranda over the front door. Entrance through that porta] disturbed Mrs. Robin so much that Henry bad nailed up the ! soreen and locked the door ustil the “Why a pup?”’ { “Well,” he said, “I just get com- understand, and that makes me get The law of compensation—whether a favorite theme Faith and optimism are He frequently o favorite subjects. I would not leave the impression . July 30, robin family had moved to other quar- | ters. But to return to my slorr. As we pamsed through the flelds | noticed what I thought were the foundations of numerous haystacks Rails had been laid down on the |ground several feet apart. Acroes | these and close together other rail: | had been placed. On these grass had |been piled up to the depth of two or three feet. | “You must have had a wongerfal | crop of hay on this fleld.” 1 remarked. | “judging from the number of founda- tions for the stacks. A merry twinkle came into his eye and he laughed as he said: “Thoss | are not foundations for haystacks. ! | had those built a= shelters for tha {rabbits. It makes a nice warm plac- for them in which to live in the win- er.” After passing the rabbit shelters | we came, a little further on, to = ! cornfleld in which the bare stalks of | 1ast year's crop were still standing. Vhy di@ vou not cut this fleld o” {corn?’ T asked. Again there w. little chuckle ax he enswered: “Well, vou see, I plant- ed that corn for the squirrels, and some of my other friends, and left it standing so they could get at it in {the winter. And let me show vou * ¥ ¥ ¥ followed-him a little way into the woods and found the ground covered with cobs from which the corn had been stripped. “I have a lot of friends jn here” he said. “Let me show you B particular friend. See that bird box—the one on the pole? Notice that the box is fastened to a straight, smooth rod of iron and the iron is bolted to the ton of the pole. T did that so the squir- rels could not get =t the birds. But see what happened. A fiying squirre! took possession of that box and made it his home. He runs out on that limb that hangs over the box and makes a fiying leap. He never fails 10 1and on the roof of his home. It |bet he's in there now. He knows my signal, end if he is there he'il come out and take 2 look. Now, boy. keep your eve on the hole in the box.” He went to the pole to the top of which the box was fastened. He rapped upon it three times and then out came the head of friend squirrel. For a minute he eved us very calmi {and very solemnly and then turned back to his nest as if eatisfled that |evervthing was all right and that {Henry and another boy were just making a friendly call. And so the multimilllonaire spen: the better part of the day with & ten- year-old boy, having a bully time calling on his furred and feathered friends. He loves the great out-oi- doors. Eeneath the fire and steel fn {him there is a boyish, joyous pirit. | It is one of the lights that fall among the shadows. I have referred elsewhere to tas fact that Mr. Ford makes his most in- timate counselors men in his own organization with whom it would seem he would have the least in com- mon. That thers is in Mr. Ford tha: which is attractive to men of 2 higher order is seen in the intimate friend |ship he has enjoyed with two great | men—John Burroughs, up until the time of his death, and Thomas A. Edi son. These three were in the habit of taking their annual outing to- gether, and were not infrequently to- | gether between times. What is there in common among them? Between Burroughs and Ford thers was the love of nature, of birds and flowers, and streams and hiils. One loved far more understandingly than | the other, but both loved the same things. Between Edison and Ford there is the bond of mechanics and inventiton And back of it all there is the spirit |of youth. It was in Burroughs to {his last hour. It is in Edison and Ford. Edison at seventy-five is work- ing his two shifts and finding his jov !in life and his Interest in his work increasing rather than diminishing. | “When are you going to retire?” he w ked recently. The replyy was: “Never. There is a story of Ford and Edi- son that has never gotten into print. 1t has an amusing and at the same time a dramatic Incident in it that makes it worth rpeating. Late in the fall of 1914 Mr. Ford planned to take Mr. Edison by spe- cial train over the route betwesn De- troit and Port Huron on which Edi- son in his vouth had worked as a newsboy. The train consisted of three or four coaches, and the party was limited to a small number of in- vited guests, of whom I chanced to be one. Arriving in Port Huron. Mr. Ford decided to give to Mr. Edison a new | | | t | | | | start in his 0la business. He pur- | | | l | | chased from a newsboy his entire out- fit—basket, papers, apples. oranges. chewing gum, crackerjack and all the rest—and had it smuggled aboard our train. As we were pulling out a son of Mr. Edison brought the basket to his father and, holding it up before him. “Here you are, dad. Go to it.” arm through the handle of the basket and began to call his wares. Down through the train he went, doing a land-office busines: for everybody bought, and Ed'enn gave back no change. I have beforse me as 1 write a copy of the El Paso Herald, which I purchased from the newsbov Edison. It cost me a dollar. It is worth more than that today. The boys—Henry and Thomas-— were having a great time. Henry was missing for a while and when he re- turned it was with face and hands black from smoke and coal duet. he engineer -on this train,” he ex- plained, “is an old friend of mine. [ knew him when I worked at the elec- tric light plant. So I have been hav- ing & visit with him. 1 went forward. climbed over the tender and down into the cab. I've been running the engine.” (Copyright. 1922. by North Americas News- ) e (Continued in next Sunday's Béar) alos st aT