that employed many men. He was told
there was nothing open. The wholesale drug stores were all supplied with
help. Another place had a sign out--"No help wanted." Alfred failed to
notice it as he entered. When he made his errand known the oily haired
youngster in the place impudently asked him if he could read, and
pointed to the sign.

At another place he felt sure he had landed when the boss told him they
wanted a married man and that he was too young looking. At the
headquarters of a great fraternal society, the principles and teachings
of which are mercy and charity toward all mankind, the officer or
secretary in charge was particularly unkind and actually spoke and
behaved towards the boy as though he had been guilty of some offense,
instead of seeking honest employment.

After walking more than four miles to a large factory, the head of which
stood high in the councils of one of the great political parties of the
day, one who had lately issued a statement to the country that the only
difficulty his firm was having was to secure men to do their work, he
met the great man coming from his office and appealed to him in person,
and was informed that they required no more men at that time, but
intimated that a factory in a city several hundred miles distant
required help. He did not mention that it required several dollars to
pay railroad fare to the town referred to.

His experience in seeking employment caused Alfred to resolve that no
man or woman, no weary soul, no matter what the conditions, applying to
him for employment or aid should be turned away without a word of
encouragement and advice. Some philosopher has likened kindness as
lighting a neighbor's candle by our own by which we impart something and
lose nothing. Try a little kindness upon the next applicant who calls
upon you.

Walking down Fifth Avenue Alfred read a sign hung on a door: "Wanted.
Two boys over fifteen years of age." It was the White House saloon.
Alfred walked in and asked for the position. He learned it was setting
up ten pins in a bowling alley. The proprietor, John O'Brien, was very
kindly spoken and, looking curiously at Alfred, he inquired: "How did
you come to ask for this job? You look too well groomed for such work?"

"Well, I'm broke and I've got to do something."

Alfred was given the job and started to work at once setting up the
pins. It was pay day in Pittsburg; the big, husky iron workers hurled
the balls down the alley