Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1905-02-04
HIS SECOND SHIRT.
Serious Problem in the Early Life of a
Successful LAWYER.

SueeeSSlui Lawyer.
group of local professional men who
look back on successful lives. to whom
fees in four and five figures are everyday
a1alrs in the conduct of their business.
gathered at noontide few days ago in a
pretty little restaurant for luncheon. and
III some way the conversation turned to-
ward money and it's value One member of
the group, a distinguished veteran of the
civil war, referred laughingly to a remark
made by another of those present, a very
young man, in reply to a statement that a
certain article cost 500. The young man
had humorously denied that there was
ever so much cash in one persons possess
sion all at once This led to a story that
Is peculiarly American from the oldest
member of the party who is a welI-known
lawyer, former general officer of the
Union army and an ex-member of Con-
gress.
That reminds me of the impression my
first big fee made on me- he said MY
partner and l had a difficult case many
years ago, he continued after pause 1T
was an involved affair and we were fortu-
nate enough to straighten it out to the
lasting benefit of our client Our fee
amounted to considerable, but was not
quite SO great as the monetary value of
the gratitude of the man for whom we
worked He insisted that We should take
a check for 5000. That was the first
5000 fee l ever received, and my partner
gave me the check to put in bank. laid
the check on my desk and glanced at it's
figures with a smile of satisfaction. AS
sat there, trying to make up my mind to
go out and bank the money, my mind trav-
eled back few years, and remembered
a certain occasion in my life when my
financial condition was a source of consid-
cradle moment. l was working in Ohio on
a farm owned by my brother-in-law.
doing a ri
ing the day and studying at night to pre-
pare myself for college. 1 was receiving
the princely sum of $3.50 per month and
my board and washing for my laborS, and
l had saved and pinched until / accumu-
lated enough to pay the tuition fees. L
was determined to go to college, and a
week or so before I was to start for the
college town found myself in what was
to me then the most serious quandary of
my life. And 1 want to say right here
that do not believe that during the course
of my whole career-aS a lawyer in the
army or in public life-have 1 ever tackled
a problem which gave me so much concern
as this one did. 1t was winter and as cold
as blizzard and was cutting cord wood.
The wood was beech, and as tough a tree
to cut as can be found l remember that
on the particular day I had set to solve
this problem l cut down a rare old tree,
and before proceeding to cut it up into
lengths sat down on the log, and, taking
my pencil and a sheet of paper, spent an
hour figuring. My trouble was this had
two everyday shirts and one Sunday shirt.
1 was sure things would happen at college
that would call for an extra Sunday shirt,
and l could not figure out a way to spare
the money. l figured and calculated until
I was blue with cold, and then turned in
and cut my stint of wood to warm up.
That evening I submitted the case to my
sister, and she listened gravely. After I
had presented all the facts and had sum
med up my condition graphically she sug-
gested that / should be extravagant for
once and buy enough cloth to make the
shirt and she agreed to make it and fur
nish the cotton and buttons for nothing.
You have no idea of the relief l felt when
she solved my problem for me. That shirt
cost me the enormous sum of fifty cents
and the difficulties that beset me then
were most wildly recalled to my mind by
the sight of that $1,000 check, which rep
resented less actual manual work and less
time than the amount l expended for the
shirt"
Just then the waiter brought the bill for
the lunch, which the general insisted on
settling The tip which found it's way
to the walters pocket when the change
had been brought was exactly the same as
the price of the generals second Sunday
shirt fifty years ago.