The Cotton Factory Times. — 1887-04-29 (Manchester, Greater Manchester, England)

DISGUSTED FATHER.  Have you got a boy—a young man of 18 or 19— who is through with school and anxious to begin business and enter upon a career? If so I pity you, and I pity the boy still more. You'll sit down with him. as I did with my boy, and say, "Now, James, you are old enough to begin business. I know you to be honest and truthful, and you can soon prove that you have energy and perseverance. We'll look around and find you a place." And there you'll make a wonderful discovery. You will discover that there are 10,000 more boys in Detroit than places to employ them. If you go to a lawyer he will reply, "Oh, no doubt he's a smart boy and might make a good lawyer, but we've got lawyers who have to be satisfied with one meal a day. Make anything else of him." The doctor will discourage you, the architect warn you of probable failure, and the newspaper office will be found overcrowded. They have boys in banks and offices, but you are from three to six months too late with your boy. You think it all over, and decide that your boy had better learn some retail business. When he has thoroughly learned it he can set up for himself. Take him into a dry goods store, and the answer is, " Ah—l see—of course, but we are full—very full. We are running lady clerks, you see, and what few men we have must be experienced." The hardware man says you are a month too late: the shoe man says he can't let any of his old clerks go to make room; the crockery man couldn't think of taking on a green hand; the hat and cap man can hire experienced clerks for 51.0 per week; the grocer prefers a more stubbed boy. You get discouraged and say: " Here, take my boy six months or a year without salary and give him a show. If he can't get a start somewhere, he certainly can't get experience." "Yes—ahem," is the reply, but it would be against our rules. We never take anyone without paying a salary." 'You think of shorthand, typewriting, telegraphing, bookeeping, cashiering and that line of work, but the first person you apply to answers promptly back: "You must be crazy! The young women have usurped those places." You talk it over with the boy and reach the conclusion that he had better learn a trade. You go to a printer, painter, machinist or what not and state your case, and he turns on you with; " So ! That's too bad. The Knights of Labour run my shop and they allow only so many apprentices to so many men. I couldn't promise you anything under two years." Now with the Knights of Labour to cat your boy out of the shops, and the hundreds and thousands of girls to cut him off from desk and counter and table, what is to become of him? His progress is effectually checked, and he must go into the ditch and handle a spade or learn to live by his wits and prey on the public. I can't say that the girls have no right to usurp these places and earn an honest living, but we all know that it isn't a case of necessity once in five time. Nina out of ten of them have parent ors relatives able to support them, and they take employment simply to increase their wardrobe. Nature intended them to be wives and mothers— not business men. Six thousand places rightfully and lawfully be:onging to young men in Detroit are occupied by females. Ten years hence Detroit will feel the want of 6,000 more active business men. She will feel the burden of having educated and paid 6,000 employes who are not fitted to buy and sell and push business. The rule of the Knights of Labour is arbitrary and intended to give men a better show. It is all right for th-. men of to-day, but what of the men 10 years hence? Are they to suffer the pangs of poverty because they were barred out of a trade? Hasn't the boy of to-day a right to do as well as his father did 40 or 50 years ago? There are 5,000 boys in Detroit who would have shop work of some sort but for this rule. The consequence is enforced idleness for at least a share of the time. Idleness means vice. And now what will you do with your boy? It would be murder to kill him, and it would be unfatherly to advise him to commit suicide. Is there any other remedy?  A minister's seven-year-old son one day, after service was over and the family had returned from meeting, said: "Pupa, do you ever look at me while you are preaching?" the father, thinking he was a little hurt by supposed neglect, Bald: "Certainly, my son. I often look at you and think of you when I am preaching." "Bat to-day you didn't notice me at all." " Yee, I did, my son, several times," said the father. "Well, did you see me wink at you two or three time ?" "No, my son. What did you wink at me for when I was preaching ?" "I winked at you, papa, to get you to stop, you were spihning it too long."—St. Louts Oemerver.