Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1908-08-09
III.
The Richest Man In the World.

cSL uldu Al TIC WOTiQ
III.
The Richest Man In the World.
Mr.. Harry Kinbolt Lampirthy was mot
at home" to any one.
He was comfortably ensconced in a
large armchair before a blazing fire. He
gripped br:arwood pipe in his teeth and
puffed out clouds of smoke across the
handsomely furnished room. The to-
bacco was strong, and the scent of 1t was
sure to cling to the curtains for many
days.
Mr.. Lampirthy was the most finished
example of type which is entirely the
product of the modern commercial spirit.
He was no happier than the wh:te-faced
toiler in the East End. Both were en-
tangled in the same remorseless ma
chinery which brushes out all that is best
In human nature. The life-blood had been
squeezed from their hearts: nerve, brain
and body had been cruelty injured. The
one had only asked for the bare neces-
stiles of life. the other for all the wealth
that he could lay hands on. But the re-
suit had been the same. Both had been
granted existence. but nothing which
one had no time for pleasure, the other
found no pleasure in anything. 1t was
impossible to say that the millionaire was
the happier Of the two.
At the age of forty-seven Harry Lam
pir;hy was an old man. His face was
lined and furrowed with care He was
almost bald and the tufts of hair by his
ears were a dirty white. His booy
seemed all nerves and bones. He started
at the fall of coal in the crate. He was
the richest man in the world but he had
struggle for that bad eminence."
Millionaires are popularity supposed to
be troubled by the possession Of great
wealth. But 1t Is not that which troubles
them. 1t is the getting of it which Is the
constant anxiety. For it is the peculiar
curse Of these men that they are forbid
den to rest, that the desire for more gold
becomes disease, that they are bound
to go on working until they die. There Is
nothing left for them in life but the piling
up of one million on the top of another.
1t is. indeed. the only thing that keeps
them alive.
Some men can start a new life in d.
recting the fortunes of their children.
But Harry Lampirthy was denied this
blessing. He was childless. A little step
daughter. the child of his wife by a for
mer husband, was the ultimate heir to
the Lampirthy millions. She promised to
mother.
The great millionaire stared at the fire,
and wondered whether he would ever be
able to find in life some absorbing inter-
est which would destroy and take the
place of desire for more money. He
was tired of everything. Neither art nor
literature appealed to him. Mere bodily
pleasures had no attraction for the man
who could purchase anything he desired.
He had not even a craving for self-ad-
IL 1nI 40 t,Sr v,afv,
that the giving of money for charitable
purposes was not at all satisfactory.
Charity" he once said to bishop In
reply to request for money. lis all very
we'll for the over, if it makes him feel
pleased with himself. But 1t doesn't have
that effect on me. / feel that the money
is wasted. 1t will not remove. and will
scarcely alleviate, the poverty and misery
which are inseparable parts Of our social
system Bring me a scheme which will
strike at the root of the whole evil. which
will alter the system itself. and l will
listen to you. The transference Of money
from the rich to the poor is but the toss
Ing to and fro of a ball. 1t all comes
Yet the mere holding of the ball for a
little WHILE" the prelate had replied.
may bring happiness"
'Illusory, vain, useless. 1t does no real
good 1t only makes it all the harder to
throw 1t back again..
Such were Mr.. Lampirthy's views on
charity. and. as he sat before the fire and
9Rzed at the red-hot Goals, he saw no
opening for his energies in the field of
charity. He knew that he could endow
all the charities in England, but the CIV
ing of the money would afford him no
pleasure. and could not in any way take
the place of the desire for more wealth
which was still the ruling passion Of his
life.
After while he rose to his feet and
rang the bell.
Please tell Mr.. Dixon that wish to
see him." he said, as a man-servant en-
tered.
In less than a minute Mr.. Dixon. first
secretary and confidential manager OF
Mr.. Lampirthy's business affairs, entered
the room. He opened the door swiftly
and silently. as though to show his eager
ness. And he closed it softly, as though
he were in a church. He was a young
man of about twenty-eight, keen and
alert as hawk, pitiless and cruel as the
Oldest fighter in the great arena of
finance.
...Sit down. Dixon. and take a cigar. -
said Mr.. Lampirthy. The young man sat
down. but he refused the offer of any
thing to smoke.
"How's the big job" asked Mr.. Lam
pirthy, after short pause.
I've bought fifty more paper mills on
the terms you instructed me to offer"
Good. Are any standing out %
Eyes. sir. Some are standing out for
higher terms. Shall I bring you their
letters?'
mo. not now. That can all be ar
ranged. What of the others?'
"A few won't sell at any price"
SIS that so?" Mr.. Lampirthy smiled.
Zone of them was very rude"
Who was that?'
"Purl & Stanton
Good. I will remember. Who are the
others?'
The secretary reeled off list of names
and Mr.. Lampirthy seemed to be making
a mental note of them.
They don't matter" said the million
aire. well ruin them, undersell them
till they'll be glad to get rid Of their mills
at any price. That will be easy enough.
What percentage of the trade is certain
About "a per cent"
THAT is good. But. of course, we are
Offering exceptional terms. %
''There will be only per cent on most
of the money"