000 in wages, and cramming
the barns with 50,000,000 bushels of grain.

So, on his fiftieth birthday, the battle-scarred McCormick found himself a
millionaire. He was also married, having fallen in love with Miss Nettie
Fowler, of New York, a young lady of unusual beauty and ability. No
history of the reaper can be complete without a reference to this
remarkable woman, who has been for fifty years, and is to-day, one of the
active factors in our industrial development. No important step has ever
been taken either by her husband or her three sons, until it has received
her approval. And Mrs. McCormick has been much more than a mere adviser.
Her exact memory and keen grasp of the complex details of her husband's
business made her practically an unofficial manager. She suggested
economies at the factory, stopped the custom of closing the plant in
midsummer, studied the abilities of the workmen, and on several occasions
superintended the field-trials in Europe.

Chicago may not know it, but it is true, that its immense McCormick
factory owes its existence to Mrs. McCormick. After the Big Fire of 1871,
when his $2,000,000 plant was in ruins, McCormick concluded to retire. He
still had a fortune of three or four millions and he was sixty-two years
of age. His managers advised him not to rebuild, because of the excessive
cost of new machinery.

As soon as the fiery cyclone had passed, he and his wife drove to the
wrecked factory. Several hundred of the workmen gathered about the
carriage, and the chief engineer, acting as spokesman, said: "Well, Mr.
McCormick, shall we start the small engine and make repairs, or shall we
start the big engine and make machines?"

Mr. McCormick turned to his wife and said, "Which shall it be?" It was a
breathless moment for the workmen.

"Build again at once," said Mrs. McCormick. "I do not want our boy to grow
up in idleness; I want him to work, as a useful citizen, and a true
American."

"_Start The Big Engine_," said McCormick. The men threw their hats in the
air and cheered. They sprang at the smoking debris, and began to rebuild
before the cinders were cold.

Such was the second birth of the vast factory which, in its sixty years,
has created fully 5,000,000 harvesters, and which is now so magically
automatic that, with 6,000 workmen, it can make one-third of all the
grain-gathering machinery of the world.

Practically nothing has been written about McCormick from the human nature