as a boy thought he had any
better chances than any other boy among his playmates, and no one
foretold that he would become a great merchant.

A plain two story house in Philadelphia was his early home. There he
lived with his father and mother. His father was a brick maker, and
while John was very small he would help his father by turning the
bricks over so they would dry evenly. His father died in 1852. John
was just fourteen, and he went to work in a book store. His wages were
$1.50 a week, but he managed to save a little. His mother encouraged
him and he says of her, "Her smile was a bit of heaven and it never
faded out of her face till her dying day."

Although at first the boy earned but little to help this good mother,
he soon was able to care for her in a way beyond his highest hopes.

What caused him to succeed? His capital! "But," you say, "he had no
money; he was poor." True, his capital was not money. Let us see what
it was. A few words will tell us. He had good health, good habits, a
clean mind, thriftiness, and a tireless devotion to whatever he
thought to be his duty.

He worked hard outside of business hours, improving himself for any
opportunity that might come. And one came when he was twenty-one years
of age.

The directors of the Philadelphia Y. M. C. A. were looking for a young
man to become Secretary of the Association. They were anxious to
secure an earnest energetic person who would make a great success, for
it was the first time that such a position as Y. M. C. A. secretary
had been established. They selected John Wanamaker and paid him $1,000
a year.

He went to work with a will, and everyone felt that he more than
earned his salary. All the time he was saving, just as he had been
doing when he worked in the book store. He had great hopes and plans.
When he had saved $2000 he and a friend of his own age started a
business of their own. Their store was named Oak Hall and they sold
men's clothing. At that time business houses did not advertise in the
newspapers as they do today. Neither were signboards used. Just
imagine how puzzled the good folk of Philadelphia were when, one
morning, they saw great billboards all over their peaceful city. On
these were two letters, W. & B. No one knew what these letters meant.
Everyone was guessing, and it was not until Oak Hall was opened that
the public learned that W. & B. stood for Wanamaker & Brown, the name
of the new firm.

Their first day's bu