igh and are getting better
all the time.

I confess I have no sympathy with the idea so often advanced that our
basis of all judgments in this country is founded on money. If this
were true, we should be a nation of money hoarders instead of
spenders. Nor do I admit that we are so small-minded a people as to be
jealous of the success of others. It is the other way about: we are
the most extraordinarily ambitious, and the success of one man in any
walk of life spurs the others on. It does not sour them, and it is a
libel even to suggest so great a meanness of spirit.

In reading the newspapers, where so much is taken for granted in
considering things on a money standard, I think we need some of the
sense of humour possessed by an Irish neighbour of mine, who built
what we regarded as an extremely ugly house, which stood out in bright
colours as we looked from our windows. My taste in architecture
differed so widely from that affected by my Irish friend, that we
planted out the view of his house by moving some large trees to the
end of our property. Another neighbour who watched this work going on
asked Mr. Foley why Mr. Rockefeller moved all these big trees and cut
off the view between the houses. Foley, with the quick wit of his
country, responded instantly: "It's invy, they can't stand looking at
the ividence of me prosperity."

In my early days men acted just as they do now, no doubt. When there
was anything to be done for general trade betterment, almost every man
had some good reason for believing that his case was a special one
different from all the rest. For every foolish thing he did, or wanted
to do, for every unbusiness-like plan he had, he always pleaded that
it was necessary in his case. He was the one man who had to sell at
less than cost, to disrupt all the business plans of others in his
trade, because his individual position was so absolutely different
from all the rest. It was often a heart-breaking undertaking to
convince those men that the perfect occasion which would lead to the
perfect opportunity would never come, even if they waited until the
crack o' doom.

Then, again, we had the type of man who really never knew all the
facts about his own affairs. Many of the brightest kept their books in
such a way that they did not actually know when they were making money
on a certain operation and when they were losing. This unintelligent
competition was a hard matter to contend with. Good old-fashion