Twenty Years of Hus'ling
instructed me to take the "coulter" off before I commenced work again in
the afternoon, adding that it would be easier for the mules as well as
myself.
I looked the plow over carefully and wondered what the "coulter" was.
After dinner I began work, hoping that some one might come along who
could post me. In this I was disappointed. Realizing that there must be
something done before Smith visited me in the evening, I decided he must
have meant the wheel at the end of the beam, and consequently took it
off and waited his coming.
When he arrived he looked at the plow a moment and said, in an impetuous
manner:
"Where is that wheel? I thought I told you to take the coulter off."
"Well, I did," I quickly replied. "I did take the coulter off, and as it
didn't work well I put it back on, and thought I would take the wheel
off."
"Where is the wheel?" he asked. I pointed to a stump some distance
away, and said:
"It's over there."
He said: "You take _that_ coulter off and I'll get the wheel."
"No," I said, "you take the coulter off; I am younger than you and will
go after the wheel." And before getting the words out of my mouth was
half way there. When I returned he was taking the coulter off.
I worked eleven days, and after receiving that many dollars left for
Chicago, where I had an uncle residing.
He gave me a cordial welcome and said I was just the lad he wanted to
see, as he had traded for a fruit stand the day before, and wanted me to
take charge of it.
The next morning he took me to the stand, which was a small frame
building--size, about eight by ten--which stood on the northwest corner
of Halsted and Harrison Streets.
This was a very slow business, and _too slow_ to suit me, yet I
continued to run it about three months, when by repeated losses on
decayed fruit, and the too frequent visits of relatives and friends, we
found the business in an unhealthy condition and lost no time in
looking up a buyer, which we were fortunate in finding and successful in
getting a good price from.
After receiving my share of the profits, which was about enough to pay
my expenses back to Ohio, I decided to go there.
On arriving home, my mother said she hoped I was satisfied now that I
couldn't make money, and that I was only fooling my time away. She said
she had told Mr. Keefer just how that fruit business would end.
I took Mr. Keefer to one side and explained just "how it all happened"
and how the fruit all rotted, and how my relatives and friends helped
themselves. He said they ought to be ashamed and it was too bad.
I borrowed a few dollars from him for incidental expenses, until I could
"strike something."
My mother wanted to know what I expected to do, and said I needn't ask
Mr. Keefer for money, because he shouldn't give me a penny.
Of course I could give her no satisfaction. She finally said was going
to take me to a jeweler, with whom she had talked, and have me learn the
jeweler's trade. I disliked the idea and rebelled against it. She was
determined, however, and compelled me to accompany her.
The jeweler had a talk with me and told my mother he thought he could
make quite a mechanic out of me.
I thought I was destined to stay with him, until my mother happened to
leave the store for a few minutes, when he asked me if I thought I would
like the business. I told him no, I knew I would dislike it. He said he
wouldn't fool his time away with a boy who had no taste for the
business, and so informed my mother.
I returned home with her, and that evening she and Mr. Keefer and myself
had a long conference.
We talked about the past, and my mother suggested all kinds of trades,
professions and clerkships, all of which I objected to, because I would
not work for some one else.
Mr. Keefer said he believed I would strike something "yet" that I would
make money out of.
My mother said she couldn't understand why he should think so;
everything had been a failure thus far.
He explained his reasons by reminding her that with all my misfortunes,
not one dollar had been spent in dissipation or gambling, but
invariably in trying to make money, and with no lack of energy.
I remained idle a few days until the few dollars Mr. Keefer had loaned
me were spent, when one day I called upon a friend in town. Kintz by
name, who was engaged in the bakery business.
In conversation with him I learned that he owned two watches and wanted
to exchange one of them (a small lady's gold watch) for something else.
I asked him to let me carry it and try and find a customer for it.
I called that evening on the night telegraph operator, Andy Clock, and
bantered him to trade watches. He owned a large silver watch and gold
chain.
"How will you trade?" I asked, showing him the lady's gold watch.
"Oh, I'll leave it with you."
"You ought to give your watch and chain and ten dollars," I said.
"I'll make it five."
"Let me take your watch and chain a few minutes."
"All right," he answered.
I immediately called on Mr. Kintz and said: "John, are you willing to
give your gold watch and five dollars for Mr. Clock's silver watch and
gold chain?"
He replied by simply handing me five dollars. I then returned to Mr.
Clock, made the trade and also received from him five dollars.
Although the amount I made was small, it came in a very opportune time,
and afforded me much satisfaction, as I argued in my own mind, that if I
was able to drive those kind of trades in a small way, while young, I
might be able some day to make similar deals on a larger scale.
The next day, when I met Mr. Keefer, I explained how I had made ten
dollars. He laughed and said: "Well, if they are both satisfied I
suppose you ought to be."
The next Sunday after I had made the trade, several of the boys,
including Mr. Kintz, Clock and myself, were sitting in the hotel. I was
reading a paper when Mr. Kintz and Clock began a conversation about the
watch trade, when Kintz remarked:
"If that gold watch had not been a lady's size I never would have paid
any difference on the trade."
"Did you give any boot?" quickly asked Clock.
"Why, I gave five dollars," answered Kintz.
"The d----l you did; so did I," replied Clock.
They immediately demanded an explanation, which I gave, by declaring as
the "middleman" I was entitled to all I could make; and this was the
universal opinion of every one there, including the landlord, who
insisted that it was a good joke and well played.
CHAPTER VIII.
THREE DOLLARS WELL INVESTED--LEARNING TELEGRAPHY--GETTING IN DEBT--A
FULL-FLEDGED OPERATOR--MY FIRST TELEGRAPH OFFICE--BUYING AND SELLING
DUCKS AND FROGS WHILE EMPLOYED AS OPERATOR--MY
RESIGNATION--CO-PARTNERSHIP IN THE JEWELRY AND SPECTACLE BUSINESS--HOW
WE SUCCEEDED--OUR DISSOLUTION.
The next day after making this trade and procuring the ten dollars, I
bought an old silver watch from a stranger who had become stranded,
paying him three dollars for it. This I traded for another watch and
received five dollars as a difference. From this I continued to make
trades until I was the owner of ten head of fine sheep, three pigs, a
shot-gun, violin, watch, and a few dollars in money, besides having paid
my board at the hotel and bought necessary clothing.
When I found a buyer for my sheep and pigs, my mother said of course I
couldn't be contented until I sold them and lost the money. I explained
to her that, in order to speculate, it was necessary to keep
re-investing and turning my money often.
Mr. Keefer said I was right, but advised me to be very careful, now that
I had quite a nice start from simply nothing.
After selling out, I one day called on the day telegraph operator, Will
Witmer, and while sitting in his office, asked him to explain the
mysteries of telegraphy. He did so, and I then asked him to furnish me
with the telegraph alphabet, which he did. I studied it that night, and
the next day called at his office again, and began practicing making the
letters on the instrument.
He paid me a very high compliment for my aptness, and said I was foolish
for not learning the business.
I asked what the expense would be.
He said his charges would be fifteen dollars, and it would take four
months anyhow, and possibly six, before I would be able to take an
office.
Two days later, after giving special attention to the business, I had
become quite infatuated with it, and paid over the fifteen dollars to
him and two weeks' board at the hotel.
My intentions were to try and sustain myself by speculating and
trafficking, but I very soon became so absorbed in my new undertaking as
to be unfit for that business.
My mother was immensely pleased at the turn affairs had taken. Mr.
Keefer was both surprised and pleased, and said he would help me pay my
board, although he couldn't see how I ever happened to take a liking to
that business.
During this winter, my associates and habits of life differing wholly
from those of former years, I became what would now be considered "quite
a dude." And having no income from business, and a limited one from Mr.
Keefer, with a fair future prospect, I took advantage of my good credit
in town, and bought clothes, boots, shoes and furnishing goods, and
borrowed money occasionally from my friends, who never refused me.
Three months from the very day I began learning the alphabet, through
the advice and recommendation of Mr. Witmer, I called on Wm. Kline, Jr.,
General Superintendent of Telegraph, and made application for an office.
He sent me to Whiting, Indiana, sixteen miles from Chicago, with
instructions to take charge of the night office, at a salary of forty
dollars per month.
On arriving there I found only a small station, and one family, with
whom I was to take board, and who were living in an old abandoned
water-tank.
The young man whom I relieved from night duty was promoted to day
operator, and as he was thoroughly disgusted with the place he kept
continually writing to the Superintendent's secretary, who was a friend
of his, to get him a better office, which he did in just six weeks
afterwards.
I was then promoted to his position, with no raise of salary, but which
I gladly accepted.
There was plenty of duck hunting and frog catching among the settlers
there, but they didn't seem to understand how to find a market for them.
I at once took advantage of this by getting a day off and a pass to
Chicago, where I bargained with a commission merchant to handle all I
could send him. I then returned to Whiting and arranged to have the
settlers consign all their game to me, which I in turn consigned to the
commission merchant. I had plenty of business and made money fast.
One day the Division Superintendent happened to get off the train, as we
were loading on a lot of frogs, when he asked me who was shipping
from that point. I told him I was. He looked at me a moment and asked,
in a gruff tone:
"Does this R. R. Co. pay you to buy frogs?"
I answered: "No, they pay my board to watch the station, and I buy and
sell frogs to make my salary."
The conductor and other employees who heard our remarks laughed
heartily, and the Superintendent returned to his car with a broad grin.
As soon as the frog and duck season was over I began urging Mr. Kline to
give me a better paying office. I also wrote home expressing my
dissatisfaction with the business, and my contempt for the small salary
it paid, and closed by saying I could make more money swapping
jackknives than I could telegraphing, and that I never would be able to
pay my debts were I to continue at it.
My mother answered; saying, that if I threw up that position and came
back home she would leave the country.
In a few days I was transferred from Whiting to Swanton, Ohio, with no