The Ely miner. [volume] (Ely, Minn.) 1895-1986, 1910-04-22

\ d
! you do? Would you begin extensive
financial operations? Would you
| grope for additional inspiration?
| Would you invest in more spades,
| more back lots and go on digging? Or N
| would you be content with your mil
lion or so and buy house and
yacht and some silk pajamas and
shirts with monograms embroidered
on the sleeves? In short, would you
keep on money grubbing and trying
to get more gold or would you quit?
The overwhelming chances are that
you will say you would quit The del z>
uging probabilities are that, when the ~
time came you would try to get Just M
lone million more" The end of the
rainbow which marks the nesting
place of the tabled pot of gold is always in
sight but never quite in reach. Slightly edit
ing and revising the biblical dctum! ITO him
who hath" is given an Unsuitable appetite for
more.
| CHANGING hurriedly up and down the list
of Americans of millions, it is difficult to pick
out bare fraction of them who have found
that enough was sufficient. Uncle Russell
Sage never lost his interest in interest. Aunt
Hetty Green still loves to stroke the fur of
coupon and hear it purr. William Waldorf
Astor was born on a couch upholstered with
dainty bonds and beautifully tinted green
backs, and soon as he was able to toddle he
went into the upholstering business on his
own account and has been at it ever since,
moving to England and mixing up with expen-
sive royalty in the meanwhile, but always
keeping his eye on the main chance.
F. Augustus Heinze after getting hold Of
more money than he knew what to do with out
in Montana, came to New York and tried to
plant his dollars in productive SOIL The cut
worms got it.
j. Pierpont Morgan, one of the money over
lords, generalissimo of finance, is SO busy get
ting more that he hasn't time to talk to those
whose vocabulary is limited to less than seven
figures.
Other instances might be cited in proof of
the contention that, generally. the man with
millions doesn't quit.
But, as sustaining the rule, there are ex-
ceptions, and this is the story of one man who
quit, Thomas F. Walsh.
He had all kinds of money-white brown,
green and yellow, but he didn't become so
enamored of it that he couldn't let go. Mel
Their was he so impressed with it's desirability
that he wanted more. He would rather talk
about one-eyed prospector that he knew
back in the days of Leadville's colicky baby
hood than he would about any business scheme
that human ingenuity could devise He didn't
care to talk about making money. Those who
know him best assert that he would rather
give it away than increase that which he has.
One third of July few years ago Mr.. Walsh
walked down to the Boston & Maine railroad
station at Observation-Disclosures and did some
things that left the eyes of the railroad en-
ployes hanging out like the old fashioned
knockers on the front doors of New England.
Mr. Walsh arrived quietly at the station. He
manifested no symptoms Of give-upativeness
down into an ample pocket he dragged forth
roll of tens and twenties-real money-and
began to skin off the top layers He handed
bill to each Of the men.
Tomorrow is the fourth of July and want
you boys to have good time" was his ex-
PLANTATION. For few minutes the Manchester
station crew was utterly useless pitifully in
competent. 1t couldn't get it's breath.
"say," whispered Waterman who hap
pened to be of the elect on that suspicious oc-
casion, 'that roll of yellows that he pulled out
was big enough to stall a freight !,
Walsh heard about that remark and was so
tickled over it that he got chummy with the
Waterman and used to walk down and talk
with him every day or two
This and other instances of the generosity
of Mr. Walsh should not, however, have
tendency to inject hope into the systems of
seek loans and contributions. One sure way
not to get money from Walsh is to ask him
for it, He has an almost holy horror of the
CRATER and the person who writes hard luck
tales to those who are classed among the ultra
wealthy.
Once upon time, when he was Colorado's
commissioner at the Paris exposition, Mr..
Walsh. in his side excursions, discovered
king. This particular monarch was Leopold,
the gay old party with the severe but ample
whiskers who lately ruled over Belgium.
Come over and have snack at my camp"
remarked Mr.. Walsh At all events that was
the substance of what he said.
"fn try anything-once," the attitude
of the monarch with the lilacs Now it hap
pened that Mr.. Leopold, Rex, had been to a
number of very fussy banquets. He had been
entertained so numerously that terrapin didn't
thrill him any more. He knew all about the
various utensils that enter into the operation