And look at all the marvels that lie about you waiting to help! The
books, the paintings, the schools, the churches, the universities, the
music, the museums, the right kind of plays--they're all right here in
New York City. Why, lad dear, even the shops are an education, with
their rugs, and their fine weaves, and furniture, and crystal, and
china, and all the rest of it. Think of having such a city just to go
out and walk around in! And you'll not cast aside a single opportunity!

"So what of your future? Here! Take Father Pat's hand, and shut your
eyes, and we'll go on an Aladdin trip together, this to see what became
of certain other poor little boys. Here's a wonderful office, and a man
is sitting at his desk. He heads one of the biggest concerns in the
world, he's cultured, and generous, and a credit to his country. Suppose
we go back with him thirty years. Oh, look, lad! _He's selling
newspapers!_

"We're off again. We're in a room that's lofty and grand. And looking at
a man in a solemn mantle. He's high in our nation's counsels, he's
honored, and known by the whole world. He's a Justice of the Supreme
Court of the United States of America. Let's go back with _him_ thirty
years. Dear! dear! what do we see! A poor, little, tattered youngster
who's driving home the cows!

"Ah, Johnnie, lads don't get on by having things soft. Give a lad a
hundred thousand dollars, and it's likely you'll ruin him. Let him
_make_ a hundred thousand, _honestly_, and--you've got a man!

"Seldom do the sons of rich men distinguish themselves. Theodore
Roosevelt did (he that said, 'Don't go around; go over--or through').
And, yes, I recall another--that fine gentleman who was a great
electrical engineer, Peter Cooper Hewitt. But most of the big men in
this country were _poor boys_. Having to struggle, they grew strong.

"For instance, there were the Wright brothers, who turned men into
eagles! Their sister was called 'the little schoolma'am with the crazy
brothers!' Robert Burns, the Scotch poet, was the son of a laboring man.
Charles Dickens earned money by sticking labels in a shoe-blacking
factory. William Shakespeare's father made gloves. Benjamin Franklin was
the son of a candlemaker. Daniel Defoe, who wrote that _Robinson Crusoe_
you love so much, helped his father around the butcher shop. John
Bunyan was a traveling tinker. And Christopher Columbus was the son of a
wool comber, and himself worked before the mast.

"They're