as with the little old man, who was so wise and great about
everything else, and so foolish about his own boy. In the blindness of
his love he robbed his boy of his birthright.

The birthright of every child is the opportunity of becoming great--of
going up--of getting educated.

Gussie had no chance to serve. Everything was handed to him on a silver
platter. Gussie went thru that university about like a steer from Texas
goes thru Mr. Armour's institute of packnology in Chicago. Did you ever
go over into Packingtown and see a steer receive his education?

You remember, then, that after he matriculates--after he gets the grand
bump, said steer does not have to do another thing. His education is
all arranged for in advance and he merely rides thru and receives it.
There is a row of professors with their sleeves rolled up who give him
the degrees. So as Mr. T. Steer of Panhandle goes riding thru on that
endless cable from his A-B-C's to his eternal cold storage, each
professor hits him a dab. He rides along from department to department
until he is canned.

They "canned" Gussie. He had a man hired to study for him. He rode from
department to department. They upholstered him, enameled him, manicured
him, sugar-cured him, embalmed him. Finally Gussie was done and the
paint was dry. He was a thing of beauty.

Gussie and Bill Whackem Gussie came back home with his education in the
baggage-car. It was checked. The mill shut down on a week day, the
first time in its history. The hands marched down to the depot, and
when the young lord alighted, the factory band played, "See, the
Conquering Hero Comes."

A few years later the mill shut down again on a week day. There was
crape hanging on the office door. Men and women stood weeping in the
streets. The little old man had been translated.

When they next opened up the mill, F. Gustavus Adolphus was at its
head. He had inherited the entire plant. "F. Gustavus Adolphus,
President."

Poor little peanut! He rattled. He had never grown great enough to fill
so great a place. In two years and seven months the mill was a wreck.
The monument of a father's lifetime was wrecked in two years and seven
months by the boy who had all the "advantages."

So the mill was shut down the third time on a week day. It looked as
tho it never could open. But it did open, and when it opened it had a
new kind of boss. If I were to give the new boss a descriptive name, I
would call him "Bil