long was perhaps due to the fact that I became
interested in social problems and I was in touch with a class of people
from whom I could obtain valuable ideas. As soon as I thought I had
mastered the intricacies of socialism, I started out on a lecture tour. I
wanted to enlighten benighted humanity on economic matters and unfold to
it a scheme that would lift the burden of poverty from its shoulders. If
I could get this feasible plan of mine in operation, with the proper
distribution of wealth and everybody compelled to work just a little, we
could all have a tolerable easy time. The poor, over-worked and under-fed
people would then have a chance to read and cultivate their minds. It did
not occur to me at the time that among the wealthy who had oceans of time
there was a paucity of mind cultivation.

The lecture was a failure; my ideas were too far in advance of the times,
and I realized as never before that great movements, like great bodies,
must move slowly. However, two or three wealthy and enthusiastic
co-workers came to my financial rescue right nobly. I could usually find
some one fool enough to "back up" any scheme I might see fit to project.

The next thing I conceived was to work to the front in a manufacturing
industry of some kind. I had read that, for mastering all the details of a
business, there was nothing like beginning at the ground and working up.
Nearly all men of affairs had begun in that way; why should I not?
Accordingly I started in as a laborer in a foundry with the full
determination of forging to the front. But the first day I burned my hand
and I at once gave up the idea of ever becoming a captain of industry.

Having dabbled in literary work a little at odd times I had obtained a
slight recognition as a writer. My vivid imagination had impressed two or
three magazine editors favorably. One of these in particular called for
more of my short stories, and in his letter occurred these sentences:--

"You have what is known to psychologists as 'creative imagination,' but
you paint your pictures in a plausible manner. You are great on synonyms:
seldom use a word of any length more than once in the same manuscript; and
last, but not least, your diction is so clear and concise that it seems to
the reader that you are talking to him."

This swelled me up with conceit and I thought if these words be true, why
should I bury my talents in a little magazine in exchange for a paltry
twenty-five dollars