s to be propped. He wants you to
license him and professionalize him as a beggar.

You can only help a man to help himself. Help him to grow. You cannot
help many people, for there are not many people willing to be helped on
the inside. Not many willing to grow up.

When Peter and John went up to the temple they found the lame beggar
sitting at the gate Beautiful. Every day the beggar had been "helped."
Every day as they laid him at the gate people would pass thru the gate
and see him. He would say, "Help me!" "Poor man," they would reply,
"you are in a bad fix. Here is help," and they would throw him some
money.

And so every day that beggar got to be more of a beggar. The public
"helped" him to be poorer in spirit, more helpless and a more hopeless
cripple. No doubt he belonged after a few days of the "helping" to the
Jerusalem Beggars' Union and carried his card. Maybe he paid a
commission for such a choice beggars' beat.

But Peter really helped him. "Silver and gold have I none; but such as
I have give I thee: In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth rise up and
walk."

Fix the People, Not the Barrel

I used to say, "Nobody uses me right. Nobody gives me a chance." But if
chances had been snakes, I would have been bitten a hundred times a
day. We need oculists, not opportunities.

I used to work on the "section" and get a dollar and fifteen cents a
day. I rattled there. I did not earn my dollar fifteen. I tried to see
how little I could do and look like I was working. I was the Artful
Dodger of Section Sixteen. When the whistle would blow--O, joyful
sound!--I would leave my pick hang right up in the air. I would not
bring it down again for a soulless corporation.

I used to wonder as I passed Bill Barlow's bank on the way down to the
section-house, why I was not president of that bank. I wondered why I
was not sitting upon one of those mahogany seats instead of pumping a
handcar. I was naturally bright. I used to say "If the rich wasn't
getting richer and the poor poorer, I'd be president of a bank."

Did you ever hear that line of conversation? It generally comes from
somebody who rattles where he is.

I am so glad now that I did not get to be president of the bank. They
are glad, too! I would have rattled down in about fifteen minutes, down
to the peanut row, for I was only a peanut. Remember, the hand-car job
is just as honorable as the bank job, but as I was not faithful over a
few things, I