er brothers in a country
store, at eight hundred dollars a year, and day by day sinking further
into the slough of despond.

He was of little real value to the store, at even that meager salary.
He was no good at driving bargains or at palavering with the trade. He
tried to keep out of sight as much as possible among the boxes and
shelves. His clothing was poor and shabby, his hair and beard long and
unkempt. The brand of failure was stamped all over him.

Yet this was the man who in five short years was to become the most
famous military leader of his day.

The life story of Ulysses Simpson Grant abounds in strange paradoxes.
If ever a man was made the plaything of fate, it was he. His career
has even persuaded some writers into the belief that he was "the Man of
Mystery."

His father, Jesse Grant, was a self-taught man, who is said to have
received but six months actual schooling in his life. He was all the
more determined that his son, Ulysses, should have the education that
he lacked. We find him intervening more than once to drive the boy
contrary to the latter's wishes--but to his later good. The father was
tall, about six feet, rugged and aggressive, making friends and enemies
with equal readiness. Ulysses' mother, however, was quiet,
self-possessed, and patient--qualities which she afterwards gave the
boy. Jesse Grant said of her in later years: "Her steadiness and
strength of character have been the stay of the family through life."

At the time of Ulysses' birth (April 27, 1822) the family were living
at Point Pleasant, Claremont County, Ohio. But when he was still an
infant they removed to Georgetown, a few miles away, where the father
established a tannery. At this time the town was little more than a
clearing hewed out from the virgin forest. Wood was plentiful and
cheap, and for this reason, Mr. Grant bought a tract of land and set up
his tannery.

Ulysses, or "Lys" as the neighbors called him, was the oldest of six
children--three boys and three girls. As soon as Ulysses was old
enough, his father started him to school. There were no public schools
in those days, so he went to a school maintained by private
subscription and taught by a man named John White.

White had his own notions about a curriculum, and one of the most
important was discipline. On top of his desk always reposed a bundle
of good husky switches--except at frequently recurring times when they
were beating a tattoo