y boy who had been
brought up to help his father and mother get a living for a large
family.

I was not so densely ignorant--don't feel sorry for country boys: God is
often on their side.

At fifteen I worked on a farm and did a man's work for a boy's pay. I did
not like it and told the man so. He replied, "You know what you can do."

And I replied, "Yes." I went westward like the course of empire and
became a cowboy; tired of this and went to Chicago; worked in a
printing-office; peddled soap from house to house; shoved lumber on the
docks; read all the books I could find; wrote letters back to country
newspapers and became a reporter; next got a job as traveling salesman;
taught in a district school; read Emerson, Carlyle and Macaulay; worked
in a soap factory; read Shakespeare and committed most of "Hamlet" to
memory with an eye on the stage; became manager of the soap-factory, then
partner; evolved an Idea for the concern and put it on the track of
making millions--knew it was going to make millions--did not want them;
sold out my interest for seventy-five thousand dollars and went to
Harvard College; tramped through Europe; wrote for sundry newspapers;
penned two books (couldn't find a publisher); taught night school in
Buffalo; tramped through Europe some more and met William Morris (caught
it); came back to East Aurora and started "Chautauqua Circles"; studied
Greek and Latin with a local clergyman; raised trotting-horses; wrote
"Little Journeys to the Homes of Good Men and Great."

So that is how I got my education, such as it is. I am a graduate of the
University of Hard Knocks, and I've taken several postgraduate courses. I
have worked at five different trades enough to be familiar with the
tools. In Eighteen Hundred Ninety-nine, Tufts College bestowed on me the
degree of Master of Arts; but since I did not earn the degree, it really
does not count.

I have never been sick a day, never lost a meal through disinclination to
eat, never consulted a doctor, never used tobacco or intoxicants. My work
has never been regulated by the eight-hour clause.

Horses have been my only extravagance, and I ride horseback daily now: a
horse that I broke myself, that has never been saddled by another, and
that has never been harnessed.

My best friends have been workingmen, homely women and children. My
father and mother are members of my household, and they work in the Shop
when they are so inclined. My mother's busine