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"Your father tells me that you don't like to go to school,” said the President quietly, ignoring the accident.

"No, sir," said Dick.

"And you want to learn the rubber business?''

"Yes, sir."

"All right, let us figure it out now.

In the first place, you

wish to work rather than study, so that you can have a horse, an automobile, guns, fishing-tackle, and money enough to travel and see the world?"

"Yes, sir," said Dick, his eyes sparkling.

"All right. Now, if you stay in the grinding room, as Big Jim has all his life, you would earn not more than two dollars a day. It would take a long time to buy an automobile on that, wouldn't it?"

"Yes, sir."

"So you see you must have your eye on one of the better positions. Let's find out what they are."

The President produced five blue cards. On one of them he wrote Rubber Chemist; on another, Rubber Mechanical Engineer; on the third, Rubber Superintendent; on the fourth, Rubber Merchant; on the fifth, Purchasing Agent. Spreading these out on the table he said,

"Now each of these positions brings the man that fills it anywhere from $3,000 to $10,000 a year. His assistants get half as much. You can have any one of these positions just as soon as you are fitted for it; if not in this factory, in some one of the hundreds of other big rubber factories in this country or Europe. Before you select, let me tell you what you must know.

"If you choose the first card and decide to be a Rubber Chemist, you must know all about the thousands of grades of rubber and compounding ingredients-oils, acids, alkalines, solvents, etc.; so you'll have to take a thorough course in chemistry, and that means school, doesn't it?"

"A fellow can study at home," said Dick, argumentatively.

"Right you are," said the President, genially; "let's cut the chemist out for a while.

"Suppose we think of the Mechanical Engineer! He must know all about machinery-how to build it, repair it, set it; all about stresses and strains; much about metals. In fact, to be really good he ought to have a course in mechanical engineering, and here we are again right up against that tiresome school. Let's lay this mechanical engineer aside, shall we?" Dick said nothing, and the President took up another card. "Rubber Merchant, that means the man that sells the goods, and he should be well prepared. He must be able to write a good letter, to know business law and accounts, and should know something of banking. He ought to have an idea of commercial geography and of tariffs. But this won't do; it's driving us right into a commercial college!

"Let's analyze the Superintendent. If it was twenty years ago, you could stay right in this mill and learn how we do things, and if you were able to handle men you might rise to the superintendency. But we are getting fussy. We want our "Super" to-day to know something of chemistry, considerable of mechanical engineering, somewhat of merchandising, and a lot about buying. In fact, we are taking on young men from technical schools to work into such positions. School seems to pop up everywhere, doesn't it?”

"Yes, sir," replied Dick, faintly.

"Then there is the Purchasing Agent. His is a hard job. He must know all the materials we use in rubber; fabrics, ingredients, the firms that supply them, and what the markets of the world are. He needs about as broad an education as any one of the others, and a lot of judgment besides. He should have some school, shouldn't he?"

"I don't mind studying if it is something that will help," said Dick, desperately. "But I hate Latin, and—and—”

"So did I," was the hearty answer. "But I'm glad they kept me at it, now. It helps a lot. Say, let's hit on a com

promise. You pick out the line you wish to follow. Work here this summer and learn ali you can. I'll help you. Then this fall jump into whatever school covers the line you wish to master. Carefully learn what is necessary, and your job will be waiting for you here-a bigger, better one than you can get any other way.'

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"Can I choose now?" said Dick, full of excitement.

"Surely," was the answer.

So the President spread out the cards, and Dick selectedwhich one?

Pleasure Reading:

Marden's Winning Out

-Henry Clemens Pearson

A PSALM OF LIFE

(This poem has had a marked influence on the lives of many people. When Longfellow was visiting in England, a man came to him one day to thank him for the poem, saying that it had saved his life. He had made up his mind to commit suicide, but the strong, encouraging message of the poem had given him new hope and new courage. There is a great deal in this poem that you may not fully understand now. But if you will commit it to memory, you will rejoice in it as long as you live.)

TE

ELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream!

For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

Life is real! Life is earnest!

And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Finds us farther than to-day.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,

And our hearts, though stout and brave, Still, like muffled drums, are beating Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act, act in the living Present,
Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time;-

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

-Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

THE BELLS

(This remarkable poem was written by Edgar Allan Poe, one of the most talented writers America has produced. His poems are very musical and full of feeling. Poe wrote stories as well as poems. His The Gold Bug is one of the best-known short stories in our language. Poe's writings are full of mystery and death-due largely, perhaps, to his unhappy life.)

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What a world of merriment their melody foretells!

How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,
In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens seem to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;
Keeping time, time, time,
In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells

From the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Bells, bells, bells—

From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells.

Hear the mellow wedding-bells,

Golden bells!

What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!
Through the balmy air of night

How they ring out their delight!

From the molten-golden notes,

And all in tune,

What a liquid ditty floats

To the turtle-dove that listens, while she gloats

On the moon!

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