Part 16 (1/2)

There was one fine old Scotchman past eighty years of age living in New York who had been forty-four years in the employ of Wanamaker. He had been on the pension roll for some time and was enjoying old age quietly. When he heard the call from his former employer, he went down to work as eagerly as a boy, glad he was strong and st.u.r.dy enough to do his part in keeping the great store open to serve the public.

Is it not a fine thing to be able to develop such spirit and energy among thousands of persons? Surely the mother of the boy who turned bricks for his father would rejoice if she could read her son's record. He has become one of the greatest business men of his day; he served our country well as Postmaster General but most of all he has given each year more and more time and money to help make the world better.

Can we not say of him that, while he has always recognized that the object of business is to make money in an honorable way, he has tried to remember that the object of life is to do good?

”_And the star-spangled banner In triumph shall wave O'er the land of the free And the home of the brave._”

--FRANCIS SCOTT KEY.

[Ill.u.s.tration: EX-PRESIDENT WOODROW WILSON]

WOODROW WILSON

Thomas Woodrow Wilson was born at Staunton, Virginia, December 28, 1856. At that time Staunton was a town of five thousand inhabitants, situated in the beautiful and famous Valley of Virginia. Woodrow's father, a thoroughly trained and able preacher, was pastor of the Southern Presbyterian Church of the city.

When Woodrow was two years of age the family moved to Augusta, Georgia. In those days Augusta, a city of fifteen thousand people, was one of the leading manufacturing cities of the South. With its great railroad shops, furnaces, rolling mills, and cotton mills, it was indeed a hive of industry.

As a boy Woodrow was called ”Tommy” by his playmates; but as he grew into manhood he dropped his given name and signed himself--Woodrow Wilson. His mother was a Woodrow, and by signing his name Woodrow Wilson he hoped to do equal honor to each parent.

During Woodrow's boyhood days, the Civil War storm-cloud was gathering; and when he was five years of age it broke in all its fury.

Fortunately for him, Augusta was far removed from the scenes of conflict. Never can he remember having seen troops of southern soldiers marching through the streets of the city. Only once was he thoroughly frightened. When General Sherman was on his famous march to the sea, word came that he was about to capture Augusta. Immediately the few men who were left in the city, for most of them had gone to war, gathered all sorts of fire arms and marched forth to meet the enemy. All night they lay on their arms, but greatly to their relief the foe never came.

Naturally enough the most vivid memories young Woodrow had of the war were those in connection with the scarcity of food. Before the war the people of the South had never thought of eating cow peas, as they were thought to be fit only for cattle; but so scarce did food become that Woodrow had to eat so much cow pea soup that even yet, whenever he thinks of it, he feels the old time disgust.

Two things that happened immediately at the close of the war made a deep impression upon the lad who was then nine years of age. All through the war the president of the Southern Confederacy was, as you know, Jefferson Davis. Imagine young Woodrow's surprise when he saw the former president marched through the streets of Augusta, a prisoner of war, guarded by Federal soldiers. They were on their way to Fortress Monroe. During the war Woodrow, as we have already said, saw very little of the Confederate soldiers; but as soon as peace was declared, the Union soldiers took possession of the city, even occupying his father's church as a temporary barracks. The hards.h.i.+ps suffered during the few years immediately at the close of the war were even greater than those during the war itself.

A thrilling event in the life of the lad was the day when Augusta had its first street cars. The bob-tail cars, with their red, purple, and green lights, and drawn by mules, afforded all sorts of fun for the boys. To make scissors by laying two pins crosswise on the rail for the cars to pa.s.s over was one of their most pleasant pastimes.

In those days there were no free public schools with their beautiful buildings for Woodrow to attend, so he was sent to a private school that was held in rooms over the post office. With Professor Derry, who was in charge of the school, spanking was the favorite form of punishment. While Woodrow and his chums differed very decidedly with the Professor's views regarding spanking, the boys were never able to convince him that their views were right. Finally, the lads discovered that pads made from the cotton that grew in the fields on every side of the city served them well whenever the evil day of punishment arrived. After they had made this discovery they were more reconciled to the Professor's views.

The best chum Woodrow had was his father. Busy as he was with the cares of his large church, he never was so occupied that he could not find time to chum with his boy. For hours at a time he would read to his son the worth-while things that Woodrow enjoyed hearing. Then, too, the busy pastor was in the habit of taking a day off each week to stroll with Woodrow in field, factory, or wood as the case might be.

On these long strolls the father and son talked over many of the problems that were of interest to the lad. Little wonder, then, with such comrades.h.i.+p, that Woodrow rapidly developed along right lines.

Like all boys, he was fond of building air castles. Dwelling much in the realm of fancy, he imagined that he occupied all sorts of positions and did remarkable things.

Mr. William Hale in his excellent story of the life of Wilson describes one of these flights of the imagination as follows: ”Thus for months he was an Admiral of the Navy, and in that character wrote out daily reports to the Navy Department.

”His main achievement in this capacity was the discovery and destruction of a nest of pirates in the Southern Pacific Ocean. It appears that the government, along with all the people of the country, had been terrified by the mysterious disappearance of s.h.i.+ps setting sail from or expected at our western ports. Vessels would set out with their precious freight never to be heard from again, swallowed up in the bosom of an ocean on which no known war raged, no known storm swept.

”Admiral Wilson was ordered to investigate with his fleet; after an eventful cruise they overtook, one night, a piratical looking craft with black hull and rakish rig. Again and again the chase eluded the Admiral. Finally, the pursuit led the fleet to the neighborhood of an island uncharted and hitherto unknown. Circ.u.mnavigation seemed to prove it bare and uninhabited, with no visible harbor. There was, however, a narrow inlet that seemed to end at an abrupt wall of rock a few fathoms inland. Something, however, finally led the Admiral to send a boat into this inlet--and it was discovered that it was the cunningly contrived entrance to a s.p.a.cious bay; the island really being a sort of atoll. Here lay the s.h.i.+ps of the outlawed enemy and the dismantled hulls of many of the s.h.i.+ps they had captured. And it may be believed that the brave American tars, under the leaders.h.i.+p of the courageous Admiral, played a truly heroic part in the destruction of the pirates and the succor of such of their victims as survived.”