The Tupelo journal., 1917-08-03
VIII To Work


a contributor, whenever l said, II
can't do it," / got the familiar answer,
''Where there's a will there's a way"
Last week I got it again, this time from
p keen-eyed, earnest clergyman, the
head of one of our large city missions.
He read behind my apathy the de-
spondency of failure, and when I rose
with a dull "Thank you," to his re-
ply that there was no position open
to me, he said abruptly: "Sit down."
Then he told me story after story of
men, today known and respected in the
business world, who were once "down
and out" This was the last; I will
tell 1t in his words:
"A man went to see a friend Of mine,
also a clergyman. He wanted a job.
He was pretty seedy-his shoes were
shabby, his collar soiled, his suit I'M
pressed.
"'There's no use trying, anyway
he declared with a twisted smile. The
whole rotten worlds run by graft. ITO
everyone that hath shall be given
you know the rest-"but from him that
hath not" Well, there's always the
river
"The clergyman said nothing, but
looked steadily at the speaker. The
man squirmed, fumbled with his hat,
gazed at the floor, at the pictures, at
the window-anywhere except into the
other mans eyes. He knew he had
whined like a coward.
"'My man. said the minister finally,
you're down on your luck. You feel
that your life is futile, that nobody
needs you. What you need is work,
not money. You've loafed; you've ac-
fuired the habit Of loafng and kick
ing. Now, if I give you something
to do, will you do it? No matter how
silly it may seem, will you do itT
"'Ye-es,' came the hesitating an
swer.
"'Good! Take that brick and he
pointed to one lying loose in the fire.
place, and carry it all around Madison
square; then come back
"The man felt foolish as he picked
up the brick. He felt more foolish
when the elevator boy snickered; but
he remembered that in his school days
he had never refused a challenge, and
he vowed he would see it through.
Solemnly he crossed the park and
paced round the square, carrying his
burden past grinning %Onlookers with
as much solicitude as if it had been
of gold instead Of common red clay.
When he returned his shoulders we're
Straighter. He looked pleased with
himself, though somewhat ~sheepish.
"'Hello, so you've done it! Well,
don't you feel betterT
"He did-undeniably. He had not
one cent more in his pocket, but he had
forgotten that he al hungry in con-
,centrating upon the brick.
Gall right; now here is another job.
Take these two dollars, go to a first
class coffee merchants, buy all you
a of their best grade of coffee, ask
them for some small bags and strings,
and do it up into quarter-pound pack
ages. Go up to Park avenue, ring the
basement doorbell of each house and
say to the servant who ome to the
door:
"'Madam, I am introducing a very
excellent brand of coffee. This is a
sample package Of a quarter Of q
pound. 1 should not sell it if I were
not convinced that it is something you
will be glad to try. If you do not like
it 1 should never try to sell it to you
again. Charge enough to make two
cents on each sale. Then go back and
buy some more"
The narrator stopped and smiled
quizzically. II don't know the rest Of
the story. I like to think the man
made good; I like to. think that he is
a prosperous salesman of ~high-grade
coffees and teas today. But that's not
the point. You are a writer and you
want a job. Here is a story for you.
Use it or not, as you choose. I think
you, too, can make good. Good-day !"
youths Companion.