The Oklahoma City times. [volume] (Oklahoma City, Okla.) 1908-1984, 1917-08-29
BY Mr.. THOMPSON.

had slipped out and away from me through a hole in my
pocket. made a quick exit as the ticket seller gave me the
smile audible.
With a sickening thud my feet hit the pavements. My
flats were %clinched: The nails brought blood from my palms;
Down the lone Main street made my way as tears streamed
down my cheeks; l could feel them, red hot, as they left my
heart on their little journey to my eyes.
That day had given the very best had in me-or the
worst, ! T. d nan. know %h %h \. ~ .. Ihe did was k S0MhIh thouo %f1 thsii
maybe there was a God who watched and believed. Maybe
He'd understand how a fellow wanted to make good and
couldn't. Maybe, if there was a God, He knew. didn't.
was at the end of the street, standing on a hill looking
over the little town. The stars marched in silent procession
across the Milky way. Mexicans, with their m0untain-ike
sombreros rising in the air, shuffled their feet along the dreary
street and prowled in and out the dark alleyways leading to
dance halls, gambling houses, and saloons. Darkness had
enveloped the village, and every sign Of life and movement
magNtfied the miserableness of my position.
Life had been along, dusty road to me, and nobody in it;
and here ! stood at the end Of that road-a FAILURE and
ALONE My body shook-my brain burned-my heart
stopped.
nothing there. Nothing but DEBT-and | knew what dodg-
ing hotel clerks meant. What was the use in staying in Glen
dora? l had called on and talked At every prospect in the
town. There was nothing ELSE could do THERE; | was
T~HROUGH-that was all.
And as l stood there, l looked away out there somewhere
God knows where. And l saw that something, that indie
scribable something, that has rekndled the fire of determine
ton within the souls Of millions of men-Man's Memory Of
His Own Mother. And for hours and hours | talked with her,
and she talked to me, through Gods Great Dream Phone
The Vision Of the Past.
And there, for the first time in my life, I believe, Ibegan
to come into MYSELF. There, while no one listened save
God, | stood face to face with my soulself and had to choose
the road that led to better or worse. l began to see that life
was what | made it! began to realize that everything
WORTH WHILE was right and that was the fellow who was
WRONG; that the proposition was RIGHT, but the way l
had been selling it was WRONG. | had been listening to the
wise guys who could tell the house how to run their business.
| had been sitting around hotel Hobbies, sapping up my vitality
and mentality by talking to and listening to a lot of "hog-
and-hominy" ORDER Misunderstanding men whose main
business it was to TRAVEL, until the house found out their
caliber and handed them the slide. l had become a PART
of these neer-do-wels, and every day | had been getting
closer and closer to the toboggan. had handled money as |
handled myself-spent any amount | had, on anybody | met,
any time | met them!
| BELIEVE ABSOLUTELY THAT IF EVERY SALES
MAN WHO READS THIS LITTLE MESSAGE WOULD
SPEND ONE SINGLE HOUR IN HIS OWN ROOM-BEFORE
HIS M~IRROR-AND COLD BLOODEDLY ANALYZE HIM
SELF, THAT HIS SALES WOULD BE INCREASED A HUN
DRIED PERCENT-AND THE PROGRESS OF THIS OLD
WORLD MATERIALLY ADVANCED.
Making good, business, is a fght-just like life-a con-
tinual struggle. Struggle there always has been and always
will be-there must be. Depend upon it, and prepare yourself
for it, the struggle will be always. Life is activity. When