A yankee boy's success

Introduction

WHILE working in my library one evening, I received a note stating that the Boy Reporter was in the reception-room and wished to see me.

The Political, Financial, Railway, Social and Syndicate Reporters are frequent visitors to my house and office, and hardly a day passes without a call from the Lady Reporter ; but the Boy Reporter was a new sensation and I saw him at once. After he had told his story, I was surprised that so modest a youngster should have had such success. There was nothing loud or aggressive or audacious about him. He knew perfectly what he wanted, and he wasted no time in having it understood. He soon won my interest and sympathy. His confidence in himself and his success, and faith in your assistance, were singularly attractive. His adventures reverse the rules laid down in novels, and which send boys with pistols and scalping knives to the plains to fight Indians. It would not be safe for other boys to undertake what he accomplished. Not one in thousands could get very far without falling into the hands of the Chanties' Commissioners, vi INTRODUCTION.

the Society for the Protection of Children or the police.

I think his gentle confiding manner was helped by his flowing red hair. There are all sorts of red hair, from the Titian tint, which is the artist's envy, to the fighting brick-dust, but Morrison's red hair is an illumination, and you wonder what is underneath it. Kis success is due to the fact that he is neither an adventurer nor an impostor. He is transparently seeking knowledge of the world. No matter how valuable your time, you get the impression that you are helping a worthy and laudably ambitious youth in a career for which he has demonstrated marked talent.

He writes well and lucidly, but needs education and experience. He conveys a very good idea of the distinguished people who permitted him to interview them. He is, like all boys, an impressionist ; the analytical faculty will develop later. His adventures are so clean, and for such well-defined purposes, that he presents a fine example of the possibilities for getting on which can be utilized by the American Boy.

His simple story is an object lesson ; it teaches that with good character and habits, with industry and courage, the American Boy who is early thrown upon his own resources can rise by his own efforts and make a success in life.

Chauncey M. Depew.

J

Preface

I HAVE not tried to make this a book of literary excellence, with fine passages and flowery phrases. It was apparent that it would be useless for me to attempt it, and I decided to make it a plain, simple narrative, and send it out to stand upon its merits as the true story of the experiences of a sixteen-year-old Yankee boy in Europe.

I have often thought that I should have been very thankful if some such book as this had fallen into my hands a few years ago, a book that would have given me some idea of what I might hope to accomplish through perseverance and enterprise. I know that I should have had a great deal more confidence in my ability when I started for Europe, and might finally have achieved a much greater success through the knowledge of what other boys had accomplished under the same conditions. I had been called foolish and viii PREFACE.

over-ambitious, and was half-inclined to think I was. If any other boy had succeeded under such difficulties, I should have had greater faith in my ultimate success.

I do not mean to inspire other boys to make a twenty-five-dollar trip to Europe, but I do hope to encourage them to undertake other equally helpful things. There are many plans thought out in the fertile brains of boys and girls that are quite practicable, and would be of great advantage to them if carried out, but they generally decide that they never heard of any other boy or girl doing it, and for that reason think they would be sure to fail.

Although the narrative is very unlike the usual story of adventure, I hope that it may be interesting as a book of that kind, though the adventures really occurred. They are experiences that could only happen to a Yankee boy, and at the end of the nineteenth century.

At the suggestion of the publishers, the story is printed as it was first handed in to them, without any editing or pruning by a more experienced hand. An introduction has been written by Mr. Chauncey M. Depew, and is inserted with a full appreciation of its

PREFACE. ix

candid criticism. Being aware of all the circumstances of the trip, his opinion is an able and impartial one, and will doubtless be enjoyed by the readers of the book.

Harry Steele Morrison.

New York City, August, 15, 1898.

Chapter XXVII. Christmas In Mattoon. — Retrospect Of The

JOURNEY 271

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Page "You look as though you would succeed, he said. "...Frontispiece.

" I don't think I ever saw so many dishes." 50

" Be a good boy, and you'll be a true man, he said." 97

" Come nearer, my boy," she said, " I can't talk to you so

far away. " 106

" I felt like an actual criminal." 149

" Wished with all my heart that I were in Illinois." 210

" His very first words sent a chill over me." ? 240

" Beside me was the Lord Mayor of London." 252

Chapter I

It is safe to say that not one of you has ever heard of the small city of Mattoon, in Illinois, a city of some ten thousand busy inhabitants, typically western, and full of push and energy. For it is only one of hundreds of such cities, and scarcely interesting to any one not born there. Indeed, it was not very interesting to me, and I was born there. I hadn't lived in the little city fourteen years until I began to be dissatisfied with my surroundings and anxious for greater fields, as I suppose all boys are at one time in their lives. To be sure I had always found plenty to do, what with making garden in the springtime and selling vegetables to the neighbors before schooltime, scrubbing the floor of the public library after school, and sometimes assisting the librarian in sending out the books. I think I was one of the most active boys in the town, and managed to keep myself in clothes and spending money from my earliest recollection.

i5 A YANKEE BOY'S SUCCESS.

I used to even speculate on a small scale. My vegetable trade grew so rapidly that I was unable to raise enough in my own garden to supply my customers, and I used to go to an old gardener on the edge of the town and buy an additional stock from him. I would pay him five cents for rhubarb or onions and sell them for fifteen cents, clearing at least two hundred per cent, in the operation.

In the winter, when I had no vegetables to sell to my customers, I sold them mince-meat and horse-radish instead, being assisted by mother in the manufacture of them, for though I was willing enough, it was quite beyond me to make any acceptable kind of mince-meat.

Gardening and janitoring the library soon grew monotonous, however, and little by little, as the weeks and months passed quickly by, I found myself looking forward to some indefinite future that I felt was soon to come. I had by this time entered the high-school, and was doing my best with Latin and geometry and the other terrors of boyhood but feeling all the time that I would ever so much rather be out in the world making my own living and seeing something. There are hundreds of boys who feel that very way, I know, but with me it soon ceased to be a feeling and rapidly became a determination. I decided that as soon as school was out in the spring, I would take my small saving of fifteen dollars from the bank and go to Chicago, where I felt sure I could get work as an office-boy or " something." The determination grew stronger as the spring came round, until finally I looked upon it as an accepted fact that I was to go.

Naturally mother didn't want me to do it, but when she saw how much the venture meant to me, how ambitious I was to make the attempt, she withdrew her opposition and consented that I should try it, " for the summer vacation only." I didn't mind the condition attached, that I was to return in September, and fully expected to do so. The vacation seemed an age as I looked forward to it, and it would be a long time for me to spend in the great city.

So I went to Chicago, alone, and with but little money, and after a week of searching secured a place as office-boy in a real-estate office. My joy at my good fortune knew no bounds. I thought I saw before me the open way to great business success and wealth. I believed that if I did my very best I would be rapidly advanced to higher positions, and who could tell where I might finally stand.

I loved my work for several months, but, little by little, as at home, the thought grew in my mind that perhaps . there wasn't much chance of advancement after all, and that I had better look for something better. I saw clearly that I would probably have to be an office-boy for years to come, with hardly any increase of salary, and with no great opportunities for self-improvement.

Therefore a new ambition came to me. I was anxious to travel, to be somebody, to see things, and, lastly, to be a journalist. That had always been my chief ambition, but I hadn't seen a way open for me to enter that profession, for fifteen-year-old journalists are not often seen. But since I had been in Chicago, surrounded on every side by people who had conquered everything and achieved success, it seemed to me that there must be a way for me to be a journalist. I thought of it night after night as I lay in bed, and gradually it occurred to me that perhaps I might be a journalist and travel, too. And all at once, when I was sitting at my little table in the office one day, I said to myself, " I'll go to Europe, and send European letters to the papers. Men have done it, so why shouldn't a boy do it as well. I know I can write some, well enough, anyhow, and, — and I'll go." That was a rapturous moment for me. I felt instinctively that at last I had hit upon the very thing to do, and I was all eagerness to begin my plans. " Oh," I said to myself time and again that day, and the days following, too,

"what a thing: it will be for me. I just know I can do it, and / will!'

As soon as I thought of the plan, I saw a way by which I thought I could carry it into execution. I had saved twenty-five dollars from my three dollars and a half a week wages, and that would be enough for me to start on, anyhow, and as I went along, I could add to it by writing for the papers. I could work my way to Buffalo on a lake steamer, and then perhaps I could afford to pay my way to New York City, or even walk, if necessary. Once in New York, I felt sure I would have no difficulty in securing a place as pantry-boy on a cattle-vessel, or to do something to earn my passage. When I arrived in London I could perhaps work somewhere at first for my room and board, and then I could write for American papers, and perhaps English ones, telling them of my adventures. I thought it would be very easy to write for the press and get my articles accepted, for I had never had any experience. The whole plan seemed perfectly feasible to me and easy of execution.

Itold the men in the office about it that afternoon, and all but one laughed at me derisively. Mr. Kirk, however, who was fat and fatherly, was interested at once, and though he never said anything that I could take for encouragement, I felt that somehow he

2Q A YANKEE BOY'S SUCCESS.

thought I would succeed. So from that day on Mr. Kirk was my only confidant. He always listened to me, though he never helped me along any. No doubt he felt that it was too important a thing to be encouraged without thought. Every one else I mentioned it to only laughed and joked about it, so finally I determined to keep my plans to myself. If none would encourage me, why, I said, I didn't need their encouragement, and I went bravely about making what few plans were necessary for my departure.

First of all I visited the editors of the various Chicago newspapers. I knew that it was important for me to make a connection with some paper before leaving, for then I would have a little something to depend upon. I was bright and hopeful before I made the round of the editorial rooms for the first time, but when I came out I felt something like a wet kitten looks. The editors, of course, had received me courteously and asked me to be seated. Then they all looked at me curiously and asked me how old I was. When I said that I would soon be sixteen they smiled, and carelessly asked me what I wanted. They every one treated me the same, with one exception, so in describing one interview I am describing all. When I told them that I expected to leave for Europe in a week or two, and intended to interview Mr. Gladstone, take in the Queen's Jubilee and see the Queen herself, they invariably straightened themselves up in their chairs and took a renewed interest in me. Evidently they thought me a curio, anyhow. Then they would listen to my plans for making the trip and carefully assure me that I would certainly not be able to carry them out, and that they were afraid I wouldn't see London this year. They tried to discourage me in every imaginable way, and I think they really felt that I was foolhardy and likely to come to grief.

When I broached the subject of articles, they only said that if I did succeed in reaching the other side they would be glad to read anything I might care to send in, but they couldn't promise to take any of the articles. And then I would get up and go out, feeling discouraged in spite of myself, but not the less determined to go.

Mr. Kohlsaat, of the "Times-Herald," was much more kind than any of the others, but even he didn't think I would succeed. He agreed, however, to print any articles I would send him, and with that promise I was obliged to content myself. So I didn't get much encouragement from Chicago editors and had little to depend upon when I finally took my departure.

Up to this time I hadn't written a word of my plans to the folks at home, and I began to wonder what they would think of the project. I felt in my heart that mother wouldn't want me to go under any consideration, and I was almost afraid to write and ask her about it. At last, though, I wrote, for I knew it couldn't be put off forever. And when I sat down to write the letter, I couldn't decide how to begin it, so finally I simply put in large letters at the top of the sheet —

ANNOUNCEMENT.

Dear Mother:

I expect to go to Europe in a week or ten days —

and then I went on and told them something of my plans, as much as I knew myself, and that wasn't much. I begged mother not to say I couldn't go, for I felt that I just must do it, and I couldn't be office-boy any longer. " It would just kill me," I said. And I sealed the letter and posted it, and awaited the answer with fear and trembling.

It came the next day but one, and it was evident that mother had lost no time in replying. I tore open the envelope, and then almost cried from vexation, for all my appeals had been in vain. She wrote

A YANKEE BOY'S SUCCESS. n

that if I said another thing about such a wild-goose chase she would send an officer up to bring me home, for she wouldn't think of letting me do such a thing. The letter was a long one, and there was no mistaking its meaning. Every page simply bristled with objections, and when I sat down to try and answer all the arguments set forth, I had a hard task before me.

But I was no less determined to win her consent, and every day after that for a week I wrote home twenty-five page letters, setting forth all the reasons I could possibly invent why I should go. And I did as much as I could to ridicule some of her objections, but I know I failed dismally in a few cases. I had to confess that it did seem to be a foolish thing to do, but I still felt that I could carry it through, and used all my ability as a writer to convince mother of that fact.

At last my persistence seemed to have some effect, and one day she wrote that since I was so persevering in wanting to go I would surely succeed when I did go, so I might as well do it if I pleased.

I think I have never received a letter that made me more happy, and a few days after my sister came up from home to say good-bye. She wanted to persuade me from going if possible, but if not, why, she would encourage me all she could. I told her before she had been with me an hour that it would be useless to try the first plan, and she didn't try to keep me from going after that. And when she returned to Mattoon she must have reassured mother, for her letters took on a more cheerful tone after that.

Since I had mother's consent, and there was nothing further that I could do with any of the editors, there seemed nothing to defer my departure. And time, too, was beginning to be precious. If I wanted to be in London for the Queen's Jubilee I would have to hurry, and, of course, I would be obliged to spend some days in New York before sailing. In fact, I knew that I would have to allow myself a great deal of time for delays, for I wasn't making the trip by a time-table.

I resigned my position in the office a few days before leaving, and since by this time every one saw that I was determined to go, I received many good wishes and hopes for success. Good Mr. Kirk, moreover, didn't limit himself to mere good wishes, but insisted on buying me a new suit of clothes and a pair of shoes, for I needed them badly. His kindness helped me more than anything else to start out in good spirits.

A piece of great good fortune came to me when I was in the midst of looking for a chance to go to Buffalo on a steamer. It occurred to me all at once that I might be able to secure a pass to New York if I asked for it, and I lost no time in visiting one of the city's leading men and making my request. He heard my story with great interest, and when I had finished he wrote me out a pass to Philadelphia. So on one of the most beautiful days in the latter part of May I left for the east by train, instead of by steamer, full of hope, ambition, and determination to succeed.

Chapter II

As the limited train sped east from Chicago and I sat very still, with my face pressed up against the window, a sudden thought entered my mind. And the more I considered it, the more pleased with it I was, until at last I decided that it was worth trying, anyhow. I took my ticket from my pocket, and upon examination found that it provided for a stop-over at Washington, and I determined to take advantage of it. I might never have another chance to see the capital city, and then, I said to myself, who knows but what I may be able to see the President, and even Mrs. McKinley. What a triumph that would be! It alone would make mother glad that she had allowed me to take the trip. So long before the train apv proached Washington, I had decided to make a great effort to see the President and Mrs. McKinley.

The journey to the Capital was a most interesting one to me. The mountain scenery of Pennsylvania and Maryland was a new world to me, and I thought I had never seen anything so beautiful. I couldn't believe that I would find the Alps any more beautiful than this, for I thought such a thing impossible. Everything was new and wonderful, and everything was interesting.

I had not ridden long before I made the acquaintance of a man in the seat behind and was soon telling him all about my plans and what I expected to accomplish while I was gone. He took a most active interest in me after that, and soon the whole car knew where I was going and what I was going to do. After that I didn't lack for company, for every one was curious to know what kind of a boy I was, anyhow, and to learn something of my history. So for many hours I held a veritable " levee " in the car and found myself quite the lion of the hour.

When the train pulled into Washington I gathered up my band-box, which contained everything I had brought along, and left my new acquaintances. They wished me all the success imaginable and I left them in good spirits, resolved to see the President if it took me days to do it. Every one looked askance at my band-box, but I didn't care at all, because I couldn't afford a portmanteau, and the box had seemed the next best thing. I had already learned that it was best to put up with what I could afford and pay no attention to criticisms.

The first thing I did in Washington was to look for a place to stop over night, and I was fortunate in finding a cheap but comfortable boarding-house where the landlady agreed to keep me for a small sum. She said I would have to sleep on a hard couch in the parlor, but I wasn't going to object to that when I had started out ready and willing to sleep on the ground, if necessary. So I left my band-box at this place and started out to see the city. I had explained to the landlady that I was on my way to Europe and that I had twenty-five dollars in my pocket, and she looked at me much as small children look at the animals in the menagerie, but she was good and kind, and I didn't object to her curiosity.

I went at once to the Capitol and enquired for the senators from Illinois. I had met Senator, Cullom before and had corresponded some with the other, who had given me a letter of reference before I left Chicago. They were both glad to see me started on my trip and gave me a warm welcome to the Capitol, showing their interest in my adventures in many pleasant ways. They were, of course, rather doubtful about the success of the trip, but I turned their discouraging remarks aside and told them that I would come and see them both upon my return, just to show them that I had succeeded, in spite of all their wise remarks to the contrary. They laughed heartily at this, and doubtless expected to hear from me next at Chicago, back where I had started from.

From the Capitol I decided to go to the White House, for I thought I might as well try to see the President at once and have it over with. It wasn't an entirely pleasant thing to look forward to, for I knew I would have a great many things to overcome before I would be admitted. So it was natural that I should want to have it over with as soon as possible. I went out Pennsylvania Avenue until I came to the Mansion, and then I stopped and actually hesitated about entering. The fact that Jackson and Lincoln and so many others of my boyhood heroes had lived there made it seem almost sacred ground and deterred me from entering. But I reflected that though I might be a little in awe of Lincoln, were I to see him, I wasn't in the least afraid of kind Mr. McKinley, whom I had seen before, at a distance.

I walked boldly up the broad steps and past the officers at the door. They stopped me, of course, since I was only a boy, and boys don't usually call on the President. But I had an answer ready for them, and told them that I was going to the secretary's office, at which I was allowed to pass. In fact, I hadn't any idea where Mr. Porter's office was, but knew that

I would be more likely to get by if I assured them that I wasn't after the President. I had no trouble in finding the secretary's office, and when I entered it I encountered another august official, pompous and severe in manner. He was a colored gentleman, very much colored, and as broad as he was tall. He placed himself squarely in my path as I walked in and asked me in no uncertain tones as to what I was after. I foresaw trouble and, assuming a very dignified manner, I informed him that I wanted to see the secretary and see him I would. I also told him that it wouldn't be any use for him to oppose me, for it was important, and I couldn't possibly leave without having seen Mr. Porter.

He looked at me with a ludicrous expression on his face, and he was apparently trying to decide what course to pursue. " Don' you know that this here ain't no time ter see Mas'r Porter, child ? " he said.

" I don't know," I said ; " I think I'll wait here until he comes out, anyhow, and then we'll see whether this is the time or not." And with that I took a seat, and the doorkeeper, who has been there for many administrations, retired to his place by the door. But he watched me furtively as long as I was there and was puzzled as to what he ought to do. He had probably had few young westerners to deal with and didn't know how to handle them.

The room in which I was seated was a large one, and every chair almost was filled with people who, like myself, wanted to see Mr. McKinley. Most of them were office-seekers, men and women who had come from every part of the country to beg an office from the President. Few of them ever succeed in seeing the President, much less get an office, and they sit there day after day, looking decidedly pathetic and pitiable.

I hadn't been seated long before Mr. Porter came out from his office to speak to some one. I knew him at once from his published pictures, and when he had finished with the person he came to see, I went boldly up to him and stated my desire. I told him as much as I could about my plans, and he appeared interested at once. "Just sit down here until after four o'clock, and then I'll see if you can't see him," he said, and I was happy at once. My prospects for seeing the President were very good indeed, I thought.

When four o'clock came, every one was told that the President's office was closed for the day, and they would have to come again the next day. The office-seekers, who had failed once more, arose and filed out of the room, and I was soon the only one left.

Then Mr. Porter came out of his office and asked me to follow him. " I guess the President will see you now," he said, in his pleasant way, " and he is more likely to talk now than he would be in the busy part of the day." I followed him through several rooms, a little nervous, and feeling that one of the most important events of my life was about to take place. We went through room after room and arrived at the private office. It was a handsome room, not very richly furnished but dignified, and such a room as one would expect the President to have. I felt my heart in my throat as we entered, but my excitement was without reason, for Mr. McKinley wasn't there. I was wildly disappointed as I realized that perhaps I wasn't to see him after all, but Mr. Porter reassured me. " Never mind," he said, " we won't stop now. I suppose he's in the sitting-room. Come along."