College Men Without Money

by Carl Brown Riddle

PART I

A MOTHER’S DESIRE REALIZED
FORREST B. AMES, B.A.

Before the close of my high school course I faced two proposals, acceptance of one of which would cause me to go to college; the other would set me to work. The first was this: provided I would live at home in Bangor and go back and forth daily to the University of Maine in Orono (a ride of about fifty minutes on the electric car) I was offered about half of the expenses of my entire college course. The second was—work.

Thanks to my mother’s influence and the fact that I wanted a college education, I had no hesitation in accepting the first proposal. Thus I came to belong, not to a class of “college men with no money,” but rather to that of “college men with little money.” The essential difference is one of degree only, provided there is present a true determination to secure a college education.

Why did I go to college? To a great extent because of my mother’s influence; because of her who could not conceive of her sons as non-college men. She thus constantly encouraged us to go to college regardless of whether we had to earn all or part of our way. In addition to this ever-present influence I was a somewhat imaginative and philosophical lad. It seemed to me that just as a hill was made not merely for climbing, but that the climber should be rewarded for his attempt by the beautiful view of broader countries seen from the summit; even so a college education was designed, not to be a stumbling block to the youth of our country, but rather to serve as a means of intellectual elevation from which should open up visions of greater things in life. These two things made me become a “college man with little money,” who was ready to do any honest work to make up the financial deficiency.

How did I earn my way through college? In an account book, which I have preserved for many years, I find this statement, written when I was a sophomore in high school: “School closed (for the summer vacation) Friday. On Saturday I helped Roy cut grass and received twenty-five cents. From that regular employment followed and I earned and spent money as follows:”

There follows, then, a record of fifteen cents from someone for cutting grass, or fifty cents from another for a bit of carpenter work such as a boy could do. Very consistently during the remainder of my high school course I worked, caring for lawns and gardens in the summer, and running one furnace and sometimes two and shoveling snow in the winter. I also pumped a church organ. By these means I earned and saved $200.00 in the two years before I was ready to go to college. This sum I placed in the bank.

For two years of my college course I lived at home and went to and from the University each day. To earn money I tended a furnace and shoveled snow, pumped a church organ, and occasionally sold tickets at various entertainments in the Bangor City Hall. In the fall of the sophomore year I won a first prize of fifteen dollars in the annual sophomore declamations. During the summer between my first and second years in college I worked as an amateur landscape gardener, caring for lawns and gardens and doing odd jobs of all kinds. For the greater part of the summer following the second year I worked as a carpenter. I also tried the work of book agent, but made little headway at that.

Beginning with my junior year at college my plans were considerably changed. No longer did I travel to and from college daily, but, thanks to the generosity of a friend, I was permitted to live at the fraternity which I had joined in my freshman year. Thus I was given an opportunity to enter into the larger life and activity of the University, and so to share some of the college honors and profit by them.

But still there was the necessity of earning money. I still lacked many dollars, even many hundred dollars, necessary to secure my college education. During that junior year I worked at every opportunity and earned money by selling tickets at various places, giving readings at a church entertainment, winning another first prize in the junior declamations, taking school census in my home ward in Bangor, and by doing odd jobs whenever any presented themselves. During the summer I secured work at a seashore resort and because of the somewhat isolated nature of the place saved nearly all my earnings.

In amount of money earned in all ways, my senior year was the best of my entire college course. During the Christmas recess I worked as floor-walker in a store, and during the spring vacation again took school census, this time in a larger ward which returned me more money. I won fifty dollars in an intercollegiate speaking contest, and earned nearly sixty-five dollars as substitute teacher in Bangor high school. These amounts, combined with my previous savings, or what was left of them, and an advance from the same friend, enabled me to graduate from the University of Maine in 1913 with all bills paid, but burdened with a great debt of gratitude that I can never properly pay.

As I look back over my college course, I feel that it was worth all the work that I was obliged to do.

Orono, Maine.

“MAGNA CUM LAUDE”
REV. RICHARD ASPINALL, B.A., M.A., B.D.

At the age of twenty-five I went to West Virginia Wesleyan College with a fairly large amount of worldly experience, very little book learning, and enough money to take me through two terms of school. I was preparing myself for the ministry of the Methodist Episcopal Church, and was willing to preach my way through school. I did not know anyone in the school, nor did I have any definite promise that I would get a charge near the College. Incidentally, I might say that I had been in this country only eighteen months at that time. I landed in New York with only six dollars, plus the amount that the immigration authorities require each one to have upon landing on these shores. I did not know a man from Maine to California.

After consultation with the Dean I found that I needed one year to complete the college entrance requirements. During the next summer I made enough money to pay my few debts; so I returned to the college square with the world. A few weeks after school opened, I went to our conference and was assigned to a circuit in close proximity to the College, which paid me $360 for the year. There were six appointments on the circuit; each congregation wanted me to hold a protracted meeting and I had to hire a horse every Sunday, for the average distance for me to travel was twenty miles a Sunday.

There was no opportunity to make any extra money, for I held protracted meetings in the vacations and had to do extra pastoral work in the summer, which, of course, had been sadly neglected during the school year. It need hardly be said that there were many trying times. I had much practical experience in a system of bookkeeping; but, somehow, and at very irregular intervals, the bills were all paid at the end of the year.

I was returned a second year. The salary was increased $50.00, and for a time I was passing rich. But troubles were plentiful, sometimes. I was going out on a mission of good cheer, riding thirty miles on Sunday—it may be in sleet and snow, and the steward had been able to collect only $3.21, when I needed much more than that to pay my board bills. Then when I could succeed in casting these gloomy thoughts from my mind, in would rush the inspiring thoughts of my Latin, Greek, Hebrew and Math., all fighting for first consideration. Notwithstanding, given good health, one can get through. It has been done and can be done again, is part of my philosophy.

The last two years saw me on another charge, paying much more money, but a much more difficult field, mentally. I was able to graduate, free from debt, though I had seldom been so during the whole five years. I feel as though I have a right to say that I did not slight my work, for I was graduated “Magna cum Laude” and took a few other honors besides.

Taken collectively, the grind of lessons, the worries of a circuit together with shortage of money are not always conducive to optimism, but I felt like I had to get through. The same zest I had then for learning is still with me. I may say that I have no more money than I had when in college, but as much ambition.

Madison, N. J.

TASK WORTH WHILE
THOMAS ARKLE CLARK, B.L., DEAN OF MEN, UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS

I worked my way through college from necessity—I had to do so, or to give up the idea of having a college education at all. I had no ideas then concerning the great advantages of such a course.

When I was a little boy my father had formed the plan of sending me to college when I should have reached the proper age, but he died when I was scarcely fifteen years old, and my hope of ever securing a college education vanished. Seven years later, when I was twenty-two, a chance experience renewed within me the desire to go to college, and I laid my plans accordingly.

I had little money, though I had been teaching school two years and had also been farming for myself. It seemed to me then, and I feel it much more strongly now that I have had an experience with hundreds of other students in a similar situation, that it would be better to delay beginning my college course until I had saved enough money to give me a good start. This I did, farming another year and spending an additional winter in teaching a country school. When I was ready to enter college I had money, which I had myself earned, more than sufficient to pay all of my college expenses for two years.

I had not been in college long before I saw that the fellow with no special talent or training is very much handicapped in earning his living. Such a man must take what work he can get, and must usually work at a minimum wage. Often, too, the only work which he can get is mere drudgery. The man who can sing or can play a musical instrument well, the man with a trade, or a particular fitness for any special sort of work, can earn his living more quickly and more pleasantly than can the man who must confine himself to unskilled labor.

Soon after I entered college a chance came to me to become an apprentice in the office of the college paper and to learn to be a printer. I did not need to earn money during my first year, so I entered the printing office, and gave myself to learning to set type.

I worked at the trade industriously during my leisure moments, the fellows in the office were quite willing to instruct me, and at the end of a year I had become so proficient that I was employed as a regular type-setter. In this way I earned satisfactory wages during the rest of my college course.

My connection with the college paper gave me an interest in newspaper work in general, and I soon had an opportunity to do reporting for one of the city daily papers published in the college town. For this work I was paid a definite amount a column, with an understanding that the total amount of news which I should furnish each week should not exceed a set number of columns.

These two sources of revenue, together with small amounts which I was able to earn proved quite sufficient to furnish me enough money to meet my regular college expenses. They gave me, also, more pleasure than I should have been able to obtain had I been forced to earn my living by means of unskilled toil.

My summer vacations I employed on the farm. I had many rosy opportunities presented to me by solicitors who came to the University to earn possibly fabulous sums of money during the vacation by retailing their wares, but I preferred to work on the farm for two reasons: such work offered me a definite sum for my summer’s work, small though it might be, and I was in such a position that I felt that I should know what I could rely on. It gave me in addition three months strenuous exercise in the open air, and thus prepared me for the months of hard study that came through the college year.

As I look back now at the manner in which I earned my way through college, it seems to me in the light of the many years of experience which I have had since, a very good way. As I have watched the hundreds of self-supporting students at the University of Illinois, I am led to the conclusion that it is seldom a good plan to start upon a college course without money, even if one has to postpone going until that is earned. Unskilled labor is unprofitable, and anyone who would succeed must have or must develop skill or training in some special work. Lastly, it seems to me that the average man will find it very much better to employ his vacations in work that will bring him a definite and assured income, even though that be small, than to risk earning ten times as much, as a book agent, for example, where he is quite likely to fail.

Urbana, Ill.

MAKING ODD HOURS PAY
REV. JONATHAN C. DAY, A.B., D.D.

I was born in Harlan County, Kentucky, which is one of the remote southeastern mountain counties of that State, on the twentieth of December, 1877. I was one of eight boys. After my mother died my father married a second time. He had six boys and two daughters by his second marriage. We lived on a rough mountain farm. Our income was meager and our educational and cultural advantages even more meager. Our public schools were of the poorest kind and lasted only three months in the year. We did not attend them even consecutively through these three months. I always was ambitious, however, after I had learned to read, to get what I could from school, and from books.

My mother died when I was fourteen years of age. It was about this time that I began to try to attend public schools regularly although ours were poor. At the age of seventeen I had my first five consecutive months of school. This gave me a taste for more knowledge, since here we were studying geography and history and those branches which gave us some knowledge of a larger world than we mountain boys knew.

At eighteen I entered the Presbyterian School at Harlan Town. I graduated from this little academy when I was twenty. All of this time I had taken great delight in working odd hours outside of school and on Saturdays and holidays, to pay my way. By this time I found it possible to teach in the country schools. This I did two terms. There was finally an opening at college where I had a chance to pay my way by taking care of the fires, milking cows, running errands, etc., for a gentleman who lived near the college and who had to be away from home most of the time.

I entered Tusculum College at Greeneville, Tenn., in September, 1897. I worked for Mr. L. L. Lawrence, an attorney, who lived near the college campus. My work was not very hard, but took a great many hours each day. By diligent application to my studies I found it possible to make up the branches in which I was deficient in the preparatory department, and to graduate with my Bachelor’s degree on the 1st of June, 1901. Having to do the manual labor that I did and at regular hours, established in me regular habits, both in meeting engagements and in preparation for classes, which I have found in later life invaluable. As I look back over my experience in college, I cannot remember the time when I was not perfectly delighted with the opportunity of work and study, even though I went many weeks destitute of “spending money.”

After I had finished college I entered upon a course of theological study which I pursued for four years graduating from McCormick Seminary in the spring of 1907. Meantime, however, I gave two years to teaching and to the work of the Y. M. C. A. as student secretary in Tennessee. This I found necessary in order to earn money to purchase books and carry on my courses of study without running too heavily in debt.

Since I have been regularly in the ministry, I have many times given thanks for the Providence that made it necessary for me to get what little I did get in the way of education through this long course of labor, manual and mental. Many encouragements came along the way. There were many kind friends who, without my solicitation, have helped me at various times. I believe that the man who tries will always find much encouragement.

New York City.

THE COLLEGE STORE
PROFESSOR W. I. DODGE, B.S.A.

By way of introduction, I will say that when I was in school I never had any inclination whatever to attend a higher institution of learning. But upon graduation from the ninth grade I was influenced to attend the academy. I was at that time living in St. Johnsbury, Vermont. I attended the academy there two years, and then finished my preparatory course at Vermont Academy, Saxton’s River, Vermont. As time drew near for graduation there, I finally became quite interested in agriculture and I decided to enter the Agricultural Department of the University of Vermont at Burlington. The next question was, “How am I to bear the expense?” My father was perfectly willing to help me and desirous of helping me through, but he was financially unable to send me through on his own resources. Since I was desirous of learning, I agreed to find some method of helping him out. It was finally decided that I should enter that fall (1908) and my application was sent and accepted.

My father, who aided me to the extent of $50 the first year, went to Burlington a short while before College was to open and held an interview with Professor J. S. Hills, the Dean of the Agricultural Department. It ended in my securing the work of “sampler” at the Experimental Farm. The work included getting up at five o’clock every morning and going out to the barn and “sampling” and “weighing” the milk from fifty odd cows. There were two of us that did this work. When there was nothing ahead we would help in the milking. This required about two hours in the morning. At five o’clock in the afternoon the same work had to be done. If any of the readers have ever done this kind of work they can well appreciate my circumstances. For remuneration, I received fifteen cents an hour and was able to earn an average of twelve dollars a month, from which I paid my board. This consisted of one meal in a boarding house and two in my room. Although the work was rather undesirable in many respects, I have, nevertheless, many times thanked fortune for it. On Saturdays, I had a job emptying ashes and carrying coal for a woman down town, and in the winter I kept her roof and walks clean. In this way I picked up a neat sum. I did this work all the first year of college. During the summer I was very fortunate in securing a position at the Experiment Station under Professor Washburn (the head of the Dairy Division) for $40 a month, working nine hours a day. Along with this I kept my work at the farm so I managed to get $55 or more a month. Most of this I saved to help me in my sophomore year.

When the three months’ summer vacation was over, I still retained my work at the farm and kept it during the whole year. My father occasionally sent me a little money, and I got along as well as I could. During my sophomore year my uncle died and left me a small sum of money, but I used only $50 of it during my sophomore year. During my summer recess in that year I again worked for Professor Washburn on his books and experiment work. I received the immense wage of $45 a month, and still worked at the Farm, so I managed to obtain about $60 per month. I worked the whole three months, and then I decided to change my work.

I went to see the student owner of the “College Store,” Mr. I. H. Rosenberg, and obtained the work of clerk in the store at the salary of four dollars a week. I worked the whole year for that and it more than paid my board. The $125 saved during the summer paid my necessary bills. Then I received $100 more from my uncle’s estate.

In June I decided to buy the “College Store,” as it was for sale, but how was I to pay $729 when I didn’t have it? I wrote to a relative of mine in regard to the money, but he would not lend me the money without a note signed by myself, father and grandfather for security. I thought there must be another way to obtain it, so I went down town and conferred with Mr. G. D. Jarvis, a merchant in the city. He had known me for two years, and had taken a strong interest in me, and after knowing my circumstances he told me he would lend me the money. Of course, I had no property to give as security; but Mr. Jarvis knew me and took my note as security for the money wanted. I paid $600 down for the store and gave a note for the balance, the first of June. So I became owner of the “College Store” for my senior year. During the summer I went to Nova Scotia and worked in a creamery in Brookfield, doing the helper’s work. I wanted to learn creamery work and I thought that was my opportunity; so I took it. I received $12 a month and board. I came back to college no richer financially, but richer in knowledge. I opened my store at the opening of school, and I earned enough to pay my expenses through my last year. I sold it in the spring to another student and paid Mr. Jarvis.

I graduated in the class of 1912, the first class graduated by President Guy Potter Benton, now of the University. I received the degree of Bachelor of Science in Agriculture.

In June of my senior year I secured the position of teacher of Agriculture and the Sciences in one of the Vermont schools. I am still there, and enjoy my work very much.

Morrisville, Vermont.

BROTHER HELPS BROTHER
HENRY F. DRAPER, B.A.

When I graduated from the high school of Oswego, Kansas, in 1896 at the age of seventeen, I had the ambition to attend college, the University of Kansas in particular, which seemed to me to be the normal thing for a young man to do. My parents were in full accord, as their example and precept had always been favorable to as large a use of books as circumstances would allow. Though up to that time my every educational need had been met, it was recognized that my college training must come only after I had earned the money to provide it. I was the oldest of five children and my father’s income was only that of a country doctor in a county seat, a town of 2500 inhabitants.

Before her marriage my mother had taught school and many of her best friends and mine were teaching school at the time of my graduation from the high school. This and perhaps more particularly the further fact that I had received good grades at school seemed logically to suggest that by teaching school I should earn money for a college education. But during the summer of 1896, and, again the next year, I sought in vain to persuade country school boards that I was the proper person to teach the youth of their district. They considered me rather young and forsooth lacking in experience, which I was seeking a chance to secure. And so I was saved from becoming a poor school teacher.

Opportunities as clerk, however, were offered and by the first of April, 1901, I had experiences in hardware, grocery, and shoe stores. The various changes were made through no fault of my own; but, though they were in the nature of promotions, the financial return was so slight that after five years I had perhaps not more than $50 saved toward my cherished college career.

On April 15, 1901, I began work for a real estate loan company with duties but little more responsible than a fifteen-year-old office boy might have discharged. The wages were small, but were soon advanced. In four years I was earning what was accounted a goodly amount for a town of that size. Though I had spent some money on vacation trips each summer and for necessary things throughout the year, I had saved a few hundred dollars.

Meanwhile, my brother, two and a half years younger than I, had secured fairly remunerative work earlier in life than I had done. He, too, wanted a college education and had entered the University of Kansas in September, 1901. As nearly as I can recall he had enough money to go through the first year without doing any outside work. Occasionally during the next three years I lent him money which he repaid when I was later in school; but in the main he supplemented his summers’ earnings by strenuous activities during the school year. He was at different times steward of a boarding club, night clerk at a hotel, and one of the student assistants in the University library. His experiences and difficulties were really of more interest, and more particularly those of a student working his way through college than any I can relate of myself.

In September, 1905, when twenty-six years old, I went to Lawrence, Kansas, and enrolled in the state university as a special student. I desired courses particularly in history and economics. As I expected my college career to be limited to one year, I believed the special classification was advisable. Because I wished to study as much as possible I attempted no outside work, but I was economical in my expenditures. Yet I did not then, nor at any later time, deprive myself of a reasonable amount of recreation.

At the close of school in June, 1906, I returned to my work in the real estate loan office in my home town. I was not satisfied with the extent of the schooling received. I kept under my ambition, however, and laid aside my earnings again until September, 1907. I then returned to the University and again enrolled as a special student. I started to earn my board by washing dishes, but after six weeks’ trial I found that it took so much time that I quit outside work and gave myself wholly to study.

The spell of the college was now strong upon me and I wanted to continue until I could secure a bachelor’s degree. To so shape my course during the next three years as to correct the irregularities of my “special” course was a task, especially since I was now vitally in newspaper work and desired more courses in history and English than the schedule permitted for a regular student.

Though I yet had money to my credit, I wanted to be able to aid my sister who started this year. Therefore, to earn my board, I served as table waiter at a club from September, 1908, to June, 1909. Meanwhile, my outside duties on the student newspaper and in Y. M. C. A. work increased in addition to the larger opportunities for profitable recreation. Thus my life was growing strenuous.

In an effort to keep down expenses, I started the fall of 1909 as associate steward of a club. Ill success attended me, and before Christmas I was paying board. My work for the student newspaper brought me some slight return financially, but not commensurate with the time it took. I was also a member of the Y. M. C. A. cabinet this year.

From September, 1910, to my graduation in June, 1911, I gave a very considerable amount of time to my newspaper work and had more pay therefore; but at the end of my course I had borrowed several hundred dollars from a brother. I was on the Y. M. C. A. cabinet during this last year also.

My university training has not prepared me for any get-rich-quick career. Efforts since graduation to push ahead into a newspaper life have added to, rather than taken from, my debt. Nevertheless, I do not regret the plan of action which I followed to get a college education. I cannot estimate in dollars the satisfaction I have in the retrospect. I was not penurious with myself when in school, and so enjoyed life, even though always economical. The friendships formed and the larger vision of life which I now have compensate me for past difficulties and those yet to be overcome ere I can obtain such financial stability as I might have acquired six or more years ago if I had been content to continue in the real estate loan office of my home town.

Oklahoma City, Okla.

THE COLLEGE INSPIRATION
FRANK R. DYER, A.B.

My first inspiration toward college came from a public school teacher by the name of Homer C. Campbell, now a successful business man of Portland, Oregon. Mr. Campbell was a gifted teacher, brimful of inspiration and helpful suggestions.

My impression while I was a boy was that the rich only could get through college. My estimated amount of money needed was far beyond what I ever had seen together and was beyond my fondest hopes.

During the seven months of Mr. Campbell’s stay with us, he taught us much not in the books. He made us realize that there were higher fields inviting us and the means to the end were within our reach. Before he left us he exacted a promise from me that I would go to college. I was very willing to promise, due to my confidence and admiration for the man; but, at this late date, I realized that far, far away was my hope to realize the goal. My old teacher did not let me forget my early ambitions, but took numerous opportunities to remind me of my promise.

After teaching a short term in the country and then serving as clerk more than a year in a country store, I quit the job with many misgivings and started for the Ohio Normal University, located at Ada, Ohio,—the school founded, and many years directed by that prince of educators, President Henry S. Lehr. I had all the queer sensations of a new boy in a strange school, but the experience is common to all who will read these letters; so it will be unnecessary to repeat it here.

I had one hundred and forty dollars as a nucleus that I had saved from two years’ work. Three terms made up my first year. There were five terms in the year. I was able to get through three of them, and have a small amount of my capital left. I may add that the Ohio Normal was run for the benefit of the student body and a vacation was a very rare occurrence, and when it did occur, there was what was known as a “vacation term” for the students who did not have time to quit. In the town was my old teacher, who often had a kind word for me and always pointed to the day of graduation, a day which seemed too far away for me to consider.

I taught school that winter. As soon as school closed I went back to the Normal, took a new start, and worked all summer till time for school to begin in the fall. So, by the plan of the Normal school, I was able to teach each winter and go to school from early in the spring till late in the fall, and still make the purse hold out. The high cost of living was not in evidence. I paid $1.40 a week for table board, and fifty cents for my room. This continued till the purse came in a little stronger, and I went up to $1.60 a week. I may add that in my later years I got into the plutocrat class and paid $2.00 a week, but the room rent was the same. Two dollars per week was a regular Rockefeller rate for the Normal boys, but we lived well. Our wants increased as the years went by, but we were able to have some surplus left over each year, which was a very gratifying condition. Thus, by half year work and half year study, I was able to complete the classical course when the long hoped for day of graduation came. This is now history. My ambition had been thoroughly aroused and I felt that I must now finish college. My surplus with a little that my brother lent me during the last few months in college was enough to take me through. As I look back over the road, I find only pleasant recollections of the college work, even though there were times when we bought our coal oil by the half gallon because it avoided a large investment at one time in one commodity.

We did not ride in automobiles then as many do now. Our only expense aside from lodging, board, and fuel, was to spend a few dollars for a good book now and then, and a few dollars more for lecture tickets. The lectures were of the best, by Joseph Cook, George Wendling, Sam Jones and men of that type. We must admit at this late date that our best girl beside us made the lectures more interesting and instructive than they could have otherwise been.

Our temporal wants were few, and our intellectual opportunities, accordingly great.

One time in traveling through the mountainous part of Kentucky the most conspicuous sights were the cabin on the barren hillside and the razor-back hog with the proverbial knot in his tail to keep him from running through the crack in the rail fences. I was so impressed with the simplicity of the life there that I said to a gentleman on the train near me, “How do these people ever supply their wants?” He replied in the characteristic English of the locality, “Mister, they ain’t got no wants.” These people seemed to be happy. As I look back over my college work and experience when often the purse got down below the last nickel, I recall that our desires for knowledge were so paramount that we did not seem to have any wants.

At this time of life I take off my hat from the place where the hair ought to grow to do honor to the Ohio Normal University, because it made it possible for me and thousands of others to get inspiration for higher things. All honor to the Ohio Wesleyan University, my later school, for its scholarly instruction, its able professors, its college association, and above all its training in Christian manhood, a part of the curriculum never forgotten or neglected in the O. W. U.

May the years deal kindly with all such as the president emeritus of the Ohio Normal who will still inspire youths to do their best, and reach out to the things beyond. Rewards have come to many of my professors in the Ohio Wesleyan University, but the memory of their lives and work remains.

Any young man or woman who has no obligation but his own support can enjoy the advantages of the best educational institutions of this or the Old World and make every dollar of his expense independently.

Wichita, Kansas.

OVERCOMING HARDSHIPS
VIOLA E. FRAZIER, A.B.

From the very beginning my opportunities in school were very limited. I was the third child of a family of eight children. My parents were very poor and we older children had to work hard helping father fight the wolf from the door. Then too, father did not take the interest in sending us to school that he should have taken, although he was an educated man, and taught school nineteen years. He claimed that we could learn as much at home as we could at school. Holding to this theory he kept us at home. The theory might have worked well, if he had given us fixed hours for study and play; but instead of this he kept us at work on the farm all summer and fall. In winter he would cut and sell wood. Every morning, when the weather was not too severe, he took my two oldest brothers (and me too, when mother could spare me) to the woods to cut or saw a load of wood, while he hauled a load to town and sold it. Of course, I could not cut wood, but I could pull one end of a cross-cut saw equal to either one of my brothers. When the weather would not allow us to go to the woods, father made us study.

I had a yearning desire to learn to read and cipher. Still, like all other children, I liked to play, and devoted most of my time to it. One of my cousins, who lived near us, used to come over and play with us every Sunday. She would tell us what a good time she had at school. This made me anxious to go too, and I pleaded with father to let me go, but my pleading was all in vain. He said I would learn more mischief than anything else, and he was not going to send me. Mother saw that I would learn, if I only had an opportunity, and she, too, insisted on my going to school. Still father would not listen to the request.

At the age of twelve I had never been inside of a schoolhouse. Mother saw that father was making a mistake by keeping me out of school. So she decided to send me without his consent. One day when father came to dinner, he did not see me and inquired where I was. Mother told him that I had gone to school. He hardly knew what to say or think; so at last he said (realizing that he was in the wrong): “If she is determined to go to school, let her go, and let us see what she is going to do.”

The question then arose, how was I to get my books? I knew father would not get them for me. I told my cousin (Miss Nettie Bruce) my situation, and she agreed to lend me her books the first year. After that I always raised turkeys or ducks enough to buy everything that I needed in school.

I went to the public schools five sessions. During this time I made fairly good progress. An almost uncontrollable thirst for knowledge took possession of me. I was not satisfied unless I had a book in my hand. My teacher told me that I ought to go to college. I thought this was impossible. So I decided that I would teach the next year.

During the summer Professor J. J. Lincoln, one of father’s old schoolmates, paid us a visit. He insisted on my going to college. Father wanted to send me, but was not financially able. Professor Lincoln told him how I could go with very little cost to him. He told him that he could get me a position in the dining room, by which I could pay half of my board. He thought that father could certainly arrange to lend me the other half, and the college would wait until I finished for my tuition. This seemed reasonable, and after a little consideration father agreed to send me.

On September 5, 1906, I started to Elon College, N. C. This was my first trip from home. The first few weeks were trying ones with me. The thought of being two hundred and fifty miles from home without money or friends was almost more than I could bear. But I plucked up courage enough to conquer the homesickness, and just determined to stay. It was not long before I began to make friends.

I entered the sub-Freshman class. Had the faculty allowed me, I would have undertaken two years’ work in one. I went there with the determination to do all that my strength would permit. I managed to get them to allow me to take twenty-six hours’ work a week. This gave me all that I could do. I did not have much time for pleasure like the other girls. As I was kept very busy, the time soon slipped away.

On April 21 I received a telegram saying, “Mother is very ill. Come home at once.” The next day I arrived at home and found her very ill. I knew that she could not live long. I sat by her bedside until the 9th of June, when God called her home.

My hopes of ever receiving an education were now gone. As I was the oldest girl, and my youngest brother was only four years old, the responsibilities of the home and mother fell largely upon me. I tried to fill her place in my humble way the very best I knew, feeling that this was the only way that I could honor her.

The next fall before school opened I made preparation for my younger brothers and sisters to enter school the first day. How I did wish that I could go too, but I knew that this was impossible, as father could not get anyone to keep house for him. During the winter I devoted every spare minute that I could find to my books; but you may know that I did not find much spare time after sewing, cooking, washing, ironing and mending, and keeping the house straight for such a large family. Of course, my sisters helped me every evening and morning.

The next year I decided to teach the public school just three miles away, where I could board at home, and look after the home affairs too. This year, by raising turkeys and teaching I cleared one hundred and fifty dollars, which was enough to pay half my board and other expenses (not including tuition) for one year in college.

Father was very anxious for me to go to college now. Sister being seventeen years old, father said he thought that she could keep house. Still I felt that she could not, and that it was my duty to stay at home, but at the same time I was praying for an opportunity to go to school. Taking father’s advice, the next fall I went back to Elon.

The following spring, before I came home, sister ran away and married. This made the way difficult for me to go back to college, but father succeeded in hiring a housekeeper, and I went back the next fall. Before I came home in the spring someone had persuaded our housekeeper to leave us and keep house for him. Father tried in vain to get another.

“Where there is a will there is a way.” I never gave up the hope of an education. I did my best, and left the rest with Him, Who doeth all things well. He opened the way, led and directed, and I did the acting. The next fall, one week before college opened, God sent one of my cousins to keep house for us until I should finish my college course.

I continued waiting on the table in the college dining-room as long as I was in college. This paid half of my board bill. Father lent me the other half. During my vacation I raised chickens and turkeys enough to buy my clothes and books. I gave the college my note for my tuition.

I graduated last spring and am now principal of the Holy Neck Graded School. I hope to clear enough money this year to pay my college tuition.

Elkton, Va.

THE DIGNITY OF SERVICE
REV. MARTIN LUTHER FOX, A.B., A.M., D.D.

I was born on a Michigan farm the third in a family of ten children. Some of the first words, the meaning of which I learned, were Debt, Mortgage, and Interest. And I soon appreciated that the united toil of the entire household was required through the season to provide for interest and annual payments on the mortgage. We were happy, notwithstanding the scarcity of money. The produce from the farm furnished us with an abundance of good food and we had cheap but comfortable clothing. With my brothers and sisters I attended the district school and completed my course in it at fifteen. Two or three young men of the neighborhood had gone to college and I was fully bent on going too. It never occurred to me that poverty was a barrier to a college course. I was large for my age. So I took a teacher’s examination and was granted a certificate and taught a six months’ term of country school, closing it seven days after I was sixteen. I boarded at home and received $130 for the six months. Half of this money I gave to my father and with the other half I entered and completed the spring term of the high school. During the winter evenings while I was teaching I studied Latin grammar and Jones’ “First Latin Lessons.” Hence I was able, with some help from my brother, to join the Latin class on entering the high school, to pass the examination at close of the term, and thus to have a year’s Latin to my credit. I returned to school at the opening of the fall term, but left at Thanksgiving, when I returned home to teach the same school I had taught the previous winter. I received this time $120 for four months. I studied my Cæsar evenings, and on reëntering school in the spring found myself able to join the class and to maintain a passing grade. I always was needed on the farm as soon as school closed in June. There was a large hay crop and a wheat harvest of 75 to 100 acres. Then followed plowing and preparation of soil for fall seeding. But I generally found a few weeks and a few rainy days, that I could take for making money. I canvassed the country one summer selling a United States wall map. The price was $2.00, within the reach of the farmer’s purse. I was quite successful in making sales, and the commission was good. Indeed, I regarded it a poor day in which I did not make five dollars, so that in two or three weeks I earned about $60, my capital for the coming school year.

I entered college in the fall of 1883. I really had no money and had no hope of any financial help from home. During the summer I had earned enough to purchase a four years’ scholarship, the value of which was $100, but which I secured at a reduced price. This, together with good health and a hopefully inclined temperament, was my capital with which to begin my college course. I secured a room in the men’s dormitory, and to obtain necessary furniture, I had to incur a debt of $16. The room was to cost me $12 per year. Of course, I had to have books and that increased my debt; but I was perfectly familiar with the word, for my whole previous life had been concerned with it. I did not worry. But with neither wheat nor potatoes growing to pay my debt, I realized that the situation required some attention. I noticed in a corner of the campus about fifteen cords of four foot beech and maple wood. I made inquiry and learned that it belonged to the college president. Then I called upon him and applied for the position of wood sawer to him. He asked me whether I had ever sawed wood. I replied truthfully that I had never sawed much, but that I knew how it was done. He said he would furnish the saw and the “horse” and that I would have to saw only enough each day to keep him supplied. That suited me, for it meant that I could have other contracts running at the same time. It took practically the whole winter to complete the work, sawing usually toward evening enough for the following day. My compensation in money was $20. But I was also facing the question of daily bread. I couldn’t go to a boarding club for I had no money. There was a college boarding hall. I noticed that they kept a cow, and I conceived the idea that that cow might help support me. I applied to the matron and arranged that for feeding and milking the cow and running some errands (the telephone was not yet) I was to have my board. It seemed to me then that everything was favorable. I continued to earn my board in this way till towards the close of my sophomore year. Then, for what reason I do not now recall, I resigned as milkman and secured a position to assist in the dining-room of a leading hotel. There was no specific contract as to how much I was to do. What was right in service for my board was left entirely to my judgment. But I recall that I aimed at one thing—punctuality. I do not remember ever to have been late. I remained there until I voluntarily quit near the close of my senior year. I never had any misunderstanding with anyone while there; was always treated well, and liked the place. The board, of course, was good—almost too good for a college student.

A young man in college, though, must have collars and cuffs, and a cravat occasionally and new clothes. He will have laundry bills, and must have money for stationery and postage, if he writes home to mother weekly. Every young man who has a mother should do so. I was such a young man, and of necessity I was constantly alert for employment that would bring me needed money. My suit became shabby. I pondered what to do. I saw in the Sunday School Times an announcement of Dr. Trumbull’s new book, “Teaching and Teachers,” and sent for a copy and agent’s terms. It sold for $1.50 and the commission was 60 cents per copy. I started out, and by putting in spare time for a week I earned enough to purchase the new suit. The college cistern needed cleaning. I took the contract for $3.50. It was a large cistern and supplied the drinking water for the dormitory students. There was about one foot of water in it the day I cleaned it. I hired a fellow for $1.00 to hoist the buckets and I went down into it and scrubbed it clean. We finished about sunset. The authorities concluded to lay a new conducting pipe from the dormitory to the cistern, a distance of about fifteen feet. While we were cleaning they tore the old one out. Just as we finished, the college president came along and peered down at me. “Ah,” said he, “how nice and clean. Now pray for rain.” “No, no,” exclaimed the registrar, who had overheard him, “don’t you see we have not laid the new conductor pipe? Wait till that is laid before you pray.” There was no sign of rain. We felt perfectly secure in leaving it; but that night there came a great storm with a terrific downpour. The water collected from the dormitory roof was discharged into that open clay ditch in which the new conducting pipe was to be laid and thence flowed in a dashing stream into the cistern. At sun-up there was four feet of water and clay in the cistern. I had another contract at $5.00 that day, and I wrote on the fly-leaf of my trigonometry that night, “God helps those who help themselves,” and I’ve believed it ever since.

Let no one think I had no fun. The memory of my college days is decidedly pleasant. I found time to play ball. I was a member of the college male quartette and of the Choral Union. I always attended the college lecture and entertainment course. I was a member of one of the literary societies, and was frequently on the program of great public demonstrations of college oratory. I never was conscious of any slight because I worked. On graduation day Ex-president Rutherford B. Hayes addressed our class. Some things he said seemed intended for me. He spoke of the Dignity of Work. He said many people had hands and didn’t know how to use them. It was really an appeal for manual training, a phase of education not then in vogue, but to which advanced educators were turning attention. But I had had it all as an extra. I had read Latin, Greek, and German with my classmates. I had traversed the historical centuries in their company. I had struggled with them on conic sections and had lounged with them in logarithms. They were my equals and superiors in all these, but I had the advantage—I had taken Manual Training. There were some points of contact around that college and campus that I only had touched. To be sure it was of necessity, but it was a blessing, nevertheless. I have not yet lived to see the hour that I have regretted that I worked my way through college.

St. Joseph, Mich.

A HAPPY MISFORTUNE
HON. BURTON L. FRENCH, A.B., PH.M.

Burton L. French of Moscow, Idaho, who is now serving his fifth term as representative in Congress, was born on a farm near Delphi, Ind., August 1, 1875, of Charles A. and Mina P. (Fischer) French. In 1880 the family moved farther west and lived two and a half years near Kearney, Nebraska, where young Burton attended four terms of three months each, in the country schools. When he was seven years of age, his people moved to the Northwest, living part of the time in the State of Washington and part of the time in Idaho. At the age of fifteen, Mr. French had completed, in the Palouse, Wash., public schools, a course practically equivalent to our present public school course, including the first year of high school work. From this period in his life, he worked his way through the preparatory school and through college, taking the degree of A.B. at the University of Idaho in 1901, and the degree of Ph.M., at the University of Chicago in 1903.

HOW AND WHY HE WORKED HIS WAY THROUGH COLLEGE.

Mr. French says: “As one of the older children in a large family, the responsibilities that rested upon my father and mother at the time I was ready to take up educational work preparatory to entering college, and as well later, to carry through a course in college, were such that I was thrown upon my own resources.

“Two of the chief circumstances that attended my early life were:—

“1. That of being required as a boy to perform under the direction of my father and mother, a reasonable amount of wholesome manual labor, largely the kind that is required of the ordinary farmer’s boy.

“2. That at the age of sixteen, I was thrown upon my own resources in the matter of continuing my educational work.

“My parents, aside from teaching me respect for manual labor and in a large degree helping me to be proficient in the same, inspired me with the ambition to complete a college course. I did not regard the fact that I would need to work my way through college as in any way an embarrassment, and I do not recall ever having had the wish that my people could send me through college.

“Before reaching my eighteenth year, I had been able to attend the preparatory department of the University of Idaho for six months and had earned the money to carry me through this period by serving as clerk in a general merchandise store and by working in hotels as a waiter.

“Following the close of the term of school, I found work as a waiter during the summer months, and in September following my eighteenth birthday I began teaching in a country school. During the succeeding eight years I completed the work in the preparatory school and a college course in the University of Idaho, leading to the degree of A.B., earning most of the money that I required to pay my expenses by teaching school and at periods when there was no employment in this field, by working upon a farm.

“My circumstances required that I take my college course by doing part of a year’s work at a time and I was able to attend college from the opening of the college year in the fall until the close of the college year in the spring, only once during my college course and that was during my junior year. During the period, too, I was away from college two years in succession, serving during this time as principal of the public schools at Juliaetta, Idaho.

“During the latter portion of my undergraduate years, I was able to do a small amount of tutoring in the preparatory department of the University, and as well, at one time earned my board by managing a boarding club that accommodated from twenty-five to sixty students and faculty members. In order to remain in college and complete my senior year with my class, it was necessary for me to borrow a small amount of money, which I was able to do, without imposing upon anyone else the responsibility of standing as my security.

“Prior to completing my senior year in the University of Idaho, I had been elected a Fellow in the Political Science Department of the University of Chicago. My fellowship, supplemented by a small amount of money which I borrowed, enabled me to do postgraduate work in that institution, leading to the degree of Ph.M., which I received in 1903.

“It is proper to say that during my undergraduate days I was able to do certain classes of work while engaged in teaching that helped me materially in carrying my college work upon returning to the University. For instance, one spring I made my herbarium, collecting, mounting and classifying the plants required to be assembled by each student in botany.

“Not only was this work of benefit to me, but it was of intense interest to every boy and girl in the country surrounding my school. Many were the children making herbariums of their own, who would assume an air of superior importance in comparing themselves with their fellows who did not accept the names anemone-nemorosa in lieu of wind flower, ranunculus ranunculaceæ in place of buttercup, and the common variety of the saxifrage family as philadelphus-grandiflorus instead of mock orange. This was the most clear-cut piece of work that I probably did outside of the classroom, though in history, mathematics, and the languages, I was able to do a large amount of work that made it possible for me to carry with less difficulty the classroom work upon returning to the University.

“Another thing that is quite as important as the manner in which I earned the money to carry me through college, is the manner in which I spent it. The high cost of living was a serious problem, and having obtained my money in serious manner, I necessarily measured its value with much care, and during more than half of my years in the preparatory and undergraduate school, I found it necessary to be a member of a bachelors’ club made up of students, who, like myself, were working their way through college. In this way we were able to lower the expenses of living considerably.

“In the letter from the author of ‘College Men without Money,’ Mr. Riddle in referring to me as one who had worked his way through college, spoke of me as among that fortunate class, and I regard his phrase as a very happy one. Probably the brief recital of my experiences and the way in which I earned money to complete my college course, may mean little or nothing to anyone other than myself. To me, however, the working my way through college is a positive asset, and as I said in the beginning of this sketch, I regard it as one of the most fortunate circumstances of my life.”

Moscow, Idaho.

FINDING ONE’S PLACE
IRWIN W. GERNERT, A.B.

The problem of a college education confronts many young people. We have many colleges, but how to obtain a college education is a vital question to many high school graduates and others who have not the money. Here are the colleges and the teachers, but many do not have the funds on which to go. This is the decisive hour, as here it is that one decides to climb the hill or remain at the foot.

My experience in working my way through college is not peculiar, but tallies with the experience of hundreds who have undertaken the same task. If a person is determined to get an education he will succeed, and herein lies the keynote to the problem.

It was my fortune to attend a college situated in a small town, as such locations are always best for the one who has to make his way. Work was easily secured, and as my desire was to get an education by my labor, I seized every opportunity for making a dime. Serving as janitor, making fires in the early morning hours, raking snow and ice from the college walks in the winter, raking leaves on the campus in the fall and spring, serving as clerk on Saturdays and other work of this kind paid my way. But that which gave me the inspiration for all this, and made the task easy, was the one great purpose of preparing for the gospel ministry.

I have finished the A.B. course in Wittenberg College, Springfield, Ohio, and was better off financially the day of my graduation than the day on which I entered. There is work for him who desires it. There is always a place in life which we should fill, and the finding of that place is an epoch in our lives, and the preparation for it is what makes the event memorable and life-lasting.

Louisville, Ky.

“THE TAR HEEL”
H. B. GUNTER, A.B.

The why: I wanted a college education.

The how: By sticking type, kicking the 8 x 12 Gordon jobber, feeding the old Babcock drum cylinder, yanking the lever of the paper cutter (which usually had a dull knife), doctoring the ramshackle old engine in the print shop of The University Press at Chapel Hill, N. C., and working fourteen and sixteen hours a day,—and enjoying it, too—on rare occasions, especially when there was a ball game on the “the Hill.”

Later, when I came to be manager of the shop, the principal part of my work, at times, was finding new and novel excuses for not getting the work out on time. I am not sure, but I am inclined to think that I did my full share of creative work in that field, a field in which imagination has done and is doing wonders. I believe that I may safely refer to Acting-President E. K. Graham, Dr. Archibald Henderson, Dr. George Howe, Dr. L. R. Wilson, Professor N. W. Walker and other members of the University faculty for testimonials along this line. Certainly they will bear me out in the statement that I always had an excuse ready; also that I usually needed one.

The smell of the print shop had been in my nostrils since I was a mere youngster. I “learned the case” on The Express, at Sanford, N. C.; graduated into the shop of Cole Printing Company, in the same town; worked for a short time in one or two other shops, and so when I started for Chapel Hill in the fall of 1904, fired with enthusiasm by glowing tales of life on “the Hill,” I felt that I was fairly well equipped to earn my living and get an education.

I might state, parenthetically, that the enthusiasm lasted almost to University Station. It came back later with compound interest; but when I first set foot on Chapel Hill soil I did not stand calmly and survey the world that I had come to conquer. In fact, the conquering instinct in my manly breast was distinctly dormant.

I was armed with fifty dollars, enough to pay the registration fees and to give me a feeble shove. The above soon lost its force, however, and it was up to me to dig, which I did. There may be poetry and there may be glory in working your way through college, but I found that it consisted mostly of digging.

I got along fairly well with my school work during my freshman year. I earned enough money, lacking just five dollars, besides my initial fifty, to pay my expenses, but I didn’t luxuriate noticeably. I did, however, learn to study.

It was well that I had learned this. During the summer I received the appointment as manager of the print shop at Chapel Hill. And then my troubles began in earnest. I used to examine my head before going to bed, to discover if my hair had turned white during the day.

The shop handled six or seven university publications, ranging from the weekly students’ paper to the annual catalogue, in addition to a goodly amount of job work. The work, all except the binding, was done by students. Their work at best was irregular. The supply of printer-students was always short. The university authorities gave free tuition to the boys in the shop, but there never were enough of them on hand to keep up with the work properly. It was owing to this fact that I was compelled to develop the excuse-making part of my imagination. Oh, it was a man-sized job. And I was just turned nineteen, and the little blue devils were constantly on the job. It was probably very fine training. But it was also rather fierce.

But never mind. The job carried with it a regular salary, ridiculously small, but enough to furnish the necessities and a luxury now and then. I learned to crowd much work into a given period of time. I learned the value and limitations of running a bluff. I learned to love some of the faculty men, who were patient with the shortcomings of the shop. Also I got off my school work in pretty good shape.

My junior year was not so bad. I had learned that it was not a hanging crime for a publication to come out late—although some of the editors seemed to think so. I had a better and larger force of student printers, and I had more time for recreation. Also my salary had been increased so that I never had to worry about my board bill.

At the beginning of my senior year, having been elected editor of The Tar Heel, the college weekly, I resigned as manager and borrowed a little money. I did some work in the shop, enough to keep me from forgetting that I was a horny-handed son of toil, and associated (euphemism for loafed) with my fellows more, and played a little football—and made marks that were not nearly so good as those I had made in the days of my labor.

Altogether, though I wouldn’t care to go through with it again, the work there was good for me. It was hard at times, mighty hard. But the old shop was a God-send to me, as it has been a God-send to many another young fellow, who owes his college training to the opportunity offered there.

Greensboro, N. C.

NO WORK TOO HARD
REV. JOHN S. HALFAKER, B.A.

On January 7, 1902, after a long and hard summer’s work on the farm I determined to enter college and prepare myself educationally for the Christian ministry. I had carefully saved the earnings from my summer’s work, which was my first away from home. My accumulations amounted to one Crescent bicycle, a trunk filled with the kind of clothing that a green country lad would get when making his first purchases in the average “Jew Store,” and one hundred and twenty dollars in cash. I felt that with this I would be able to become established and be in a position to earn my way. My intentions were good and my faith was strong.

Having seen in the Herald of Gospel Liberty the announcement that any honest industrious young man who desired a college education could attend Defiance College a whole year for one hundred and ten dollars, I thought, here was my chance. Surely if such a young man could go to college for the amount named above I was running no serious risk in undertaking to go from January to June on that amount. My eagerness increased.

Now, it was almost two hundred miles from my home to Defiance, Ohio. This was a long journey for a lad of my makeup to take on his own initiative and under protest of many friends. But amid showers of tears and volumes of good advice my mind was made up, and no one was happier than I when the time came to start.

At eight-thirty o’clock I arrived in the historic old town of Defiance, reputed far and wide for its mud and natural scenery. I shall never forget the old board walks. It was dark and the rain was coming straight down. No one met me at the train for I had sent no herald to announce my arrival. I mounted the old hack and made my way straight to the College. At that time the institution did not belong to the Christian denomination. Really you would have thought it didn’t belong to anyone. Dr. John R. H. Latchaw was the President and Rev. P. W. McReynolds was Dean. Dr. Latchaw was out of the city and when I arrived at the college Dean McReynolds met me at the door. He received me and welcomed me in his characteristic manner and proceeded at once to enroll me as a student. I was soon enrolled, had my tuition paid, and was on my way in company with the Dean to find a room. By nine o’clock I was located and had partially unpacked my trunk. That was “all glory” for me.

I was out for business, therefore it was my business to be out. My plans were laid to be regular and persistent in my work, so, no sooner were we located, than I was on my way down town to purchase an alarm clock.

Not only did I need the College but the College needed me, as luck would have it. The basement was full of four-foot wood (cord wood), which must be made ready for four small heaters in various rooms of the building. It was in the basement of the College building that I took my physical culture each evening and on Saturdays, with a cash dividend of twenty-five cents for each cord of wood I cut. Soon we had all the wood cut, and I was out of a job. But my attention was called to the fact that more wood was needed at my room, and that it was my turn to furnish the supply. I inquired and found that if I would walk out in the country about three miles I could have the privilege of chopping up the dead timber for the wood. On Saturday mornings I shouldered my ax and saw and made for the woods. Many was the day that I chopped entirely with the ax all day, with four cords of fine wood in the rick at night and a good supply of tired and sore muscles. We were able to get the wood hauled in at twenty-five cents a cord. I had my supply of wood for our room, and sold about ten cords to other students who had more money than desire to exercise after the woodman’s fashion. I would deliver the wood evenings at $1.50 a cord. This gave me some spending money.

June came and I was getting along well, when one day after supper at the club I engaged in a wrestling match which resulted in a broken arm. All my plans were broken in a moment. My work was at an end for the summer. After commencement I returned home and spent the summer doing errands and chores with no financial income.

During the summer I was notified that the College would be removed from Defiance, Ohio, to Muncie, Indiana, about fifty miles from my home, and that the school would be known as Palmer University. I was urged to come to Muncie early and enroll in the new institution. No sooner did I receive the word than I mounted my bicycle and peddled my way over to Muncie to see what arrangements I could make to earn my way. The President arranged for me to become advertising solicitor and business manager of the University Bulletin. This was a new line of work for me, and it was with some hesitancy that I took hold of the work. But I was in no condition for physical labor; so gave myself the advantage of a doubt and went to work at once. I was very successful and cleared about forty dollars, which those in charge seemed to think was too large an income for a student and began at once to curtail the contract. This was not at all pleasing to me.

In the meanwhile the effort to remove the College from Defiance to Muncie had failed. The citizens of Defiance arose in arms, elected Dean McReynolds President of the College, put up a considerable cash guaranty and began an enthusiastic canvass for students and money. The College at Defiance became the property of the Christian Church, and a definite campaign for funds was instituted and carried forward by President McReynolds. All the old students were at once communicated with and urged to return. I was acquainted at Defiance and was only waiting for an opportunity to return.

President McReynolds remembered the farmer lad who could handle the saw and the ax so well. He wrote me that if I would come to Defiance he would give the position of janitor at a salary of seven dollars per month and that I could room in the College building and board myself. I thought that I would be able to earn something in addition, so I sat down and answered the letter at once, stating the train on which I would arrive.

When I reached Defiance I thought it the most beautiful spot in all the earth. I felt like the prodigal son when he came in sight of his father’s house. President McReynolds met me about two blocks from the campus and with suit-case in hand we went to the College. In less time than it takes to write it we had gone over the work and I was employed as janitor of the College, a position which I held for two long school years. My arm was weak and tender, but the work was not slighted. At the close of each month I received a check for seven dollars. The smile that played over the President’s face was worth more than the check. He simply wouldn’t let a fellow get discouraged or give up.

Of course, it was impossible to get along on seven dollars a month, even if one had no room-rent to pay and boarded himself, so I was compelled to earn something besides. I undertook the laundry agency, which the first week netted me the snug sum of ten cents. But by the following June my commissions amounted to from two and a half to three and a half dollars each week. It was a good business indeed for a student. At the same time I was college librarian and in this way earned a part of my tuition. My work was very heavy, indeed, but I had never failed to make the grade; so I felt that the only honorable way out was to go straight ahead.

In the fall of 1903 I applied to the Northwestern Ohio Conference for a license to preach, which was granted. I began by supplying wherever opportunity afforded. I did not drop any of the work I had been doing, but during the remaining college course I supplied the pulpits of over forty different churches. Sometimes they more than paid my expenses, and again I bore my own expenses. In the fall of 1904 I accepted the pastorate of two churches in connection with my college work. All the time I was compelled to do at least a part of the work at the College. In January of 1905 when I engaged in special meetings with my churches it was impossible for me to carry the work at the College. I then left school and accepted the pastorate of the third church. In July of 1905 I married and moved to Wakarusa as pastor of the Christian Church there. I served that church for a period of two years, after which I resigned to complete my course at the College. I moved to Defiance and served two churches during the school year of 1907-8, and graduated in June of 1908. I am proud of my Alma Mater, and since my graduation I have had the honor of being president of our Alumni Association.

In September of 1908 I was called to serve the Christian Church at Lima, Ohio, as pastor. I continued for just four years. I then received and accepted a call to the pastorate of the First Christian Church of Columbus, Ohio.

These have been years of toil and sacrifice and joy. Though much of the way seemed dark, I have been conscious of the guidance of an unseen hand all the way.

Columbus, Ohio.

CULTIVATING SIDE LINES
PROFESSOR DANIEL BOONE HELLER, A.B.

I was born January 19, 1888, on a small farm near Ladora, Iowa County, Iowa. My first nine years were care free, with no responsibility except school and play. In the spring of my tenth year my mother died, and there being a large family it was difficult for father to keep the children together thereafter. In the following fall I, with two younger brothers and a sister, was placed in the care of the Iowa Children’s Home at Des Moines, Iowa. In the following February I was “bound out” to a big ranchman in South Dakota.

Tagged as a sack of sugar, stating my name, from whence I came, and my destination, I was ushered aboard a Milwaukee train, only too soon to reach my new home on the Dakota prairie. Very soon after my arrival upon the ranch, I was informed that the purpose of my presence there was not for ornament but for work. I also very early realized that my portion of the work was not imaginary. During the second summer, my assignment was to milk ten cows twice daily and to spend the rest of the eighteen hours of the working day in the harvest field. I did not, however, complain about the amount of work that I had to do, but I did object to the kind of treatment that was accorded to me. Being but eleven years of age, I did not have the judgment of a man, and I suffered for it. I shall carry through life scars of that old raw-hide whip,—and they did not come by chance. Believing that I was not adapted to ranch life, I decided to take an extended leave of absence. On the 5th of August, 1899, before daybreak, unknown to anybody, I started on my journey. All day under a scorching sun I tramped the dusty road westward across the prairie. Tired, penniless, and half starved, I begged food and lodging of a family late in the evening. I told them my story, and winning their sympathy I remained with them several weeks.

After an absence of about two years, I returned to Iowa County, only to find that my old home was no more. My father, older brother, and sisters were each supporting themselves, and I must do likewise. For seven years I made my home with an old soldier, who lived near Ladora. I worked during each summer, and very profitably spent the short winters at the yellow schoolhouse located in the woods. In the fall of my eighteenth year I entered the high school at Ladora. The school was small, not accredited, hence the advantages offered were much inferior to those of larger schools. Believing that I could make better progress elsewhere, I entered the Iowa Wesleyan Academy in the fall of 1907. It was here that I first came in contact with the real struggle for an education. I had often dreamed of college life and its opportunities. Now my visions were beginning to be realized, but not without effort. I entered the Iowa Wesleyan Academy with three hundred dollars and an ambition; after graduating from the Academy, I had only an ambition. My money was gone, and there were four years of college life yet before me; but my ambition was only bigger. My willingness to work and my good health were the factors which made my education possible.

Upon my arrival at Wesleyan I had a very cordial introduction to a Hershey Hall dishpan and we very soon became intimate. In addition to the dishwashing, I mowed lawns, tended furnaces, swept houses, and even did family washing. I was there for an education and determined to get it at any cost. During my first summer vacation I followed the worn trail of the canvasser, to return with some valuable experience and little profit. During my second summer I was given employment with a Chautauqua system as tent hand. I am now serving my fifth consecutive season, having been promoted to advance diplomat. The Chautauqua affords employment for about ten weeks during the summer and an opportunity to hear the very best talent on the American platform. The experience in Chautauqua work has been worth as much to me as two years or more in college. I value very highly indeed the privilege of coming into personal contact with such men as Senator Gore, and Hon. W. J. Bryan.

While listening to these masters of the platform, I conceived the idea of lecturing on my own account. Realizing my lack of ability to compile an original lecture, I secured a note-book, wrote down everything I heard. After collecting for two summers I arranged my stories in series under the caption of “Chips and Whittlings.” I had printed a lot of advertising material, and posing as a humorist, I began my platform career. Some of my friends laughed at my undertaking, while others commended my nerve; but it was easier bread and butter than sawing wood. I had to do one or the other, so I stuck to the platform. Without serious neglect to my college work, I had by the end of that school year realized a profit of three hundred dollars above expenses. After another summer I compiled another lecture entitled “Scrap Iron.” My people did not fall over each other to hear my lectures, yet I usually made good and have even filled a number of return dates.

I cannot remember when or how I received the inspiration to attain a college education. I entered with a determination to win; to win not only a degree, but every experience possible. In many ways I have won, but not because of my ability; only by hard and persistent work. Three times I represented Iowa Wesleyan in debate; twenty-two times I fought for her laurels upon the gridiron; and, last year, representing Wesleyan in the Iowa State Oratorical Contest, I carried the purple and white to victory. I served as president of the Hamline Literary Society; was for three years a member of the Y. M. C. A. Cabinet, one year as president; a member of a Gospel team; and a student member of the Forensic League. In my sophomore year I won the debating medal. In my senior year I was awarded the national degree in the Pi Kappa Delta, an honorary forensic fraternity. I was charter member of the Sigma Kappa Zeta fraternity, which, during my senior year, was granted a charter by the national Sigma Phi Epsilon fraternity. My activities were not, however, confined to college alone.

My college life at Iowa Wesleyan has truly been full of many and varied experiences. Believing that old motto, “We are rewarded according to our efforts,” I resolved always to do my best, and the results have not been disappointing. While studying constitutes a big part of college, yet I am convinced that books alone are by no means all of an education. In college I have ever striven for the practical. I now possess two degrees, one from the college of Liberal Arts, the other from the college of “Hard Knocks.” I know what I have; but more than that, I know the price that it cost. I pride myself as being one of the fortunates who has worked his entire way through college.

Batavia, Iowa.

A SMILING SELF-RELIANCE
REV. BISHOP EDWIN H. HUGHES, A.B., A.M., S.T.B., S.T.D., D.D., LL.D.

When I was nineteen years of age, I concluded that it was no longer right to ask my father to continue my support while I was a college student. It simply meant going in debt for him. I preferred, if it were necessary, to assume the debt myself. I then began to plan to maintain myself during the remaining five years of my collegiate and professional courses.

I was able to do this without any particular difficulty. I do not have the slightest reason to pose as a hero in the transaction. I made considerable money by securing the agency for a photograph gallery in a large city not very distant from the College. I added to my funds likewise by getting out certain advertisements for a lecture course, being paid a fair commission on all advertisements secured. I preached occasionally also as a supply and received some remuneration for this work. In addition to these three sources of income, in my senior year I received some prize money, which was a very great help. My last two years in the theological seminary I was able to support myself entirely and to add very largely to my working library by taking the pastorate of a small church. Indeed, while I was in the seminary, I managed to pay off all the debt that I had incurred while going through college.

It is my deliberate opinion that the poor boy in America has even a better chance for an education than the wealthy boy. This observation grows out of the experience of my student days, and likewise out of my experience as a college president. The poor boy is much more likely to present over the counter those higher purchase-prices than are absolutely necessary in the securing of an education. Given strong purpose and good health, there is no reason why the average American youth should not go through college.

My final word on the subject would be this: Some young fellows who “work their way” through are a little too apt to do considerable whining and to put themselves in the attitude of claiming sympathy. I do not believe that this mood has a good effect on character. A smiling self-reliance will represent a much more winning attitude.

I shall be happy if these few words shall prove in the least degree inspiring to any of our American youth and shall add even one good life to that procession that moves toward our higher institutions of learning.

San Francisco, Cal.

A MOTHER’S INFLUENCE
REV. A. B. KENDALL, D.D.

I am not a self-made man. I doubt if any man is. I guess I was born with a love for books. I did not make that. I learned to read, so I have been told, by bringing a book to my mother and asking her the names of the letters and what they spelled. I recall with a pleasure, that has never lost its peculiar charm through the years, a visit at the home of a neighbor when I was not yet three years of age and the placing in my hands of a blue covered book with pictures of birds and animals in it. The feeling of delight, the thrill of joy, the profound impression of that one day and incident have never left me. I love a book still. Just to feel it, let alone peruse it, is like caressing a loved one.

I possess, I always have possessed, an unusually good memory. I did not make that. I was naturally observant. No credit can accrue to me from that source. I loved to learn. Some grammarians may differ with me in the use of the word “love,” but let them; I do not care, it may be because they have never loved in that way. I must have inherited that. I was passionately fond of music. Another day stands out across the years as memory travels back, when as a boy of eight or nine years of age I traveled from the little log cabin on the farm where I lived to the nearest town, three miles away, with a pail of blackberries on my arm which I peddled from door to door. In my travels I found myself in the vicinity of a group of fine brick and stone buildings which I knew instinctively was the State Normal School and from within the walls of that building there floated strains of heavenly music. It may have been some pupil practicing scales, I know not; but this I do know, it was celestial to me, and I see that boy in poor, shabby clothes, but neat as mother’s love could make them, barefooted, tired, dusty, standing there with the big tears running down his cheeks, his heart filled with an inexpressionable longing to be able to play like that, and with it a desire to go to school and obtain an education. I did not make that desire.

And then at the back of and under and through all the woof of every man’s life, if he be not blind, he can see, or if he be not dishonest and will acknowledge it, there ever runs the warp of the wonderful influences of other lives and the strange providential guidings which do more than anything else to make men and women.

Supreme among these influences, as in most men’s lives, was the influence of my sainted mother, whose self-sacrifice for her boy, who so many times was so unworthy of it, has been the most potent factor in helping me achieve whatever of real success I may have attained.

My mother was a widow left with six children, five of whom were at home. The youngest was a girl less than two years of age, another was under four, and I was not yet six years of age. We moved at the time of her widowhood from the city to my grandfather’s farm. Grandfather had died and grandmother was left with no one to care for the farm. My brother and I were the farmers. He was fifteen years of age and I was about six. The country school was a mile and a half from our home. I went winters rather irregularly, for the cold weather and deep snows of northwestern Pennsylvania in those days made it well-nigh impossible to attend regularly. In the summer there was the farm work which prevented my getting the benefit of the summer term. But I studied and read not with any definite aim, but just because I liked to study and read. Grandmother’s death and the sale of the old farm when I was about eleven years of age, left the mother with nothing but her bare hands to support her growing family. I went to work on a farm and the outlook for an education was anything but reassuring. I still continued to get some schooling at the little country school during the winter. The summer that I was fifteen I was working in the garden of the pastor of the little Christian church, which I attended, and he told in the neighborhood that he had found a diamond in the rough. I have never questioned the latter part of that statement as applied to me, but have always felt that the good old man’s vision must have been somewhat impaired by his years. However that may be, he resolved to see if some way could not be devised for polishing the rough specimen.

Soon after this he retired from the active ministry and went to live in the town of Yellow Springs, Ohio. At this place the Christian denomination had a college known as Antioch College.

One day our little family was thrown into excitement by a letter from the afore-mentioned pastor, the Rev. Joseph Weeks, saying that he had procured for my mother the position of cook for the college boarding club and an opportunity for me and my sister, next younger than I, to work our way through school. After much deliberation and many councils, it was finally decided that we go. That was a happy time for me. The impressions which crowded thick and fast into my life at this time can never be erased or forgotten. The wonderful journey, the great stone building, the dormitories, the beautiful campus, the teachers, and the dear old library. Oh, the library was best of all.

On my arrival I went to work in the dining-room. It was my duty to fill the water glasses on the tables before each meal and then to assist in clearing the tables at the close of each meal and to help in the washing of the dishes. I also carried coal and water for the kitchen. I spent one happy year there and I do not think that my teachers during the nine months that I was under their training and polishing ever discovered any diamond-like qualities about me except the roughness. Overtaxed with the work, mother’s health broke and we were forced to leave. It was a bitter disappointment to me. I, as the oldest at home, felt that I must try to do something to help care for the rest of the family. Then came days of darkness and struggle. I could find no work. Finally a farmer, taking advantage of my desperate condition, hired me for the munificent salary of six dollars per month. At one time during this period I walked twenty miles to the city of Erie and hunted for work as faithfully as I knew how to look for work in a great city, but found none, and was forced to walk back again disheartened, only to be told by a penurious relative where I had been staying that “I had not tried to get work.” I hope God has forgiven him. I believe I have, but it still hurts when I think of it. Then I walked fifty miles to the city of Ashtabula, Ohio, stopping at the towns on the way, in some of which I had acquaintances, and tried to find work, but without avail. Finally, finding myself in the city friendless, homeless, penniless, night came on and I crept under a sidewalk hungry and thoroughly disheartened, and slept. In the morning somewhat rested I walked to a neighboring town where a cousin of my mother’s resided; there I got a dinner and a good night’s rest. From there I journeyed back home.

But the darkest day will have its dawning and the longest lane its turning, and that fall again the way opened and I entered the Old Waterford Academy at Waterford, Pa. Here I did janitor work the first year, in the Academy, and earned what extra money I could around the town by splitting wood and doing odd jobs during my leisure hours. The second year I obtained the janitorship of the graded school. By dint of hard work, carrying seven studies each term, I completed the three years’ course in two years, graduating in 1889. Then I felt that on account of my mother and sisters I could not remain longer in school, but must look after them, which I did until the death of my mother and the marriage of my sisters. During these years I had varied experience, working at shoveling dirt on the streets of Erie, unloading lumber barges at the docks, as attendant in the State Hospital for the Insane, teaching school, driving a team in the lumber woods as a lumber jack, working three years at printing, two years in a general agency of fire insurance, as secretary of Young Men’s Christian Association and physical director of same, and finally, entering the ministry.

After the death of my mother and after someone else had relieved me of responsibility for the care of my sisters, I felt the need of further preparation for the work to which I had been called. I felt that I was too old to attempt a college course, and decided that if it were possible I would like to take a course in the Moody Bible School at Chicago. I did not have the money to do this, but felt that some way would open. God almost miraculously opened a way, and I became director of the religious and club work for men and boys in a social settlement in Chicago where the salary was sufficient to aid me in doing this very well. Thus I was able to graduate from the Moody Bible Institute, the best school I know of for the training of Christian workers.

I would like to say to any young man or woman, anywhere, I can think of but two things that need stand in your way of getting a thorough school training. One is, health so poor that you cannot attain it, or the care of others which may demand your time and energies to such an extent that you cannot devote either to the pursuit of knowledge. To such let me say that there are lessons to be learned under these circumstances of equal value with the training of the schools, and the curriculum of no school, college or university can furnish them. Your loss will not be without its compensation. If you meet the disappointments cheerily, bravely, and strive to make the most of life and learn your lessons from the school in which you are ever being trained, the great school of life, you will grow into a broader, deeper, tenderer, nobler man or woman.

It is not so much poverty and environment that will keep boys and girls from an education as it is lack of vision, desire, determination, perseverance.

I am not at all anxious about the boy or girl who has these qualities. They will succeed in the great race of life, if upheld by a strong moral purpose at the back of it all. It is the boy or girl who, having the advantages, the opportunity, the means for an education, has not the vision, the desire, the purpose, that needs our sympathy and anxious thought.

Burlington, N. C.

RICHES MORE OF A HANDICAP THAN POVERTY
WALTER P. LAWRENCE, A.M., LITT.D., DEAN OF MEN OF ELON COLLEGE

Early in September, 1890, I arrived at Elon College about a week after the opening of the first session of the College. I had in money and other resources that I could turn into money less than $100. My purpose was to stay until my money gave out—perhaps I could get on by supplementing it with odd jobs until well on into the spring. It was my ambition to be a teacher in an academy or high school. I felt that to rub my elbows against college walls a few months, at least, would eminently satisfy my ideal of preparation.

Well, that was a wonderful $100. It opened doors, revealed vistas, heightened ideals, increased the tension of life until since the day I entered college I have lived in a different world. The College was young—had no traditions, casts or cliques among its membership. As a subfreshman I was allowed to possess my soul in peace and live my life as leisurely or as diligently as I pleased. I chose soon after getting into the college current to live as diligently as possible. I meant to make the freshman year and the substudies also while my money lasted. I succeeded. By the time my money was gone—about the first of April, 1891—a long vista of a complete college course had burst invitingly before me with “graduation” in letters of fire at the end. What should I do? I was penniless, and knew no one from whom I could borrow. I had been reared, the son of a country minister, in a back section, sometimes called “backwoods,” where life was pure but simple and easy-going. Everybody was poor, and a college bred man a curiosity. Having grown to manhood under such conditions, I felt keenly the struggle now going on between poverty and the newly awakened ambitions in my life. But there was nothing to do but to accept the inevitable. The situation, I kept to myself. I felt it a disgrace to be penniless amongst many who seemed to have abundance; so I kept my troubles to myself until I was about to leave, when to my surprise, Mr. Tom Strowd, with whom and his excellent family I had boarded, offered to credit my board account until the end of the session. Another gentleman, Mr. P. A. Long, offered to give me a job of carpenter work during vacation. The results were, I finished the session on the strength of credit with people, all of whom were strangers to me when I came to the college.

The carpenter work in the summer and of afternoons and Saturdays until late in the fall, together with more credit on college expenses in the spring, got me through the sophomore year. The severe strain of working my way and keeping up my studies threw me into a fever in the late fall, which lasted several weeks, and it was with difficulty that I passed my work in college. At commencement, however, I had put the sophomore year behind me with a fair record, and the burning letters “graduation” were perceptibly nearer than a year ago, yet I was almost as near out of debt as then.

This summer I taught school at Cedar Falls, a little manufacturing town in Randolph County, N. C. While here I fell under the kindly interest of the wealthiest man of the town, Mr. O. R. Cox, who, after learning something of how I had made my way thus far, offered to lend me such sums of money as I should need to get through the next two years. The remaining two years went smoothly along. I was in good health and supplemented the loans from Mr. Cox with what I could earn by various kinds of self-help; for I borrowed as little as possible.

These two last years were filled with work and many gratifications also, for the literary society and the religious organizations gave me what honors they had to bestow. I was president of the Y. M. C. A., was sent to Y. M. C. A. conferences and conventions; was teacher in the Sunday School and later superintendent. I represented the literary society several times, twice at commencement, and other times in public debates. I was the valedictorian of my class on Commencement Day, and on the same day was offered a position in the English department, with privilege to prepare myself for the place by university study. I have, therefore, supplemented my college course by special study in the University of North Carolina, Yale, and Oxford.

It is trying and positively discouraging many times for one to have to make his own way through college. The experience has put the conviction in me, however, that the young person appearing at the threshold of a college course is more seriously handicapped if he has too much money than he who has none at all.

Elon College, N. C.

THE WILL AND THE WAY
REV. ROY MCCUSKEY, A.B., S.T.B.

I had a great desire for an education. This desire was the outcome of two strong convictions—that my place in the world’s work was to be in the ministry of the Gospel; that I could never render the best service in that capacity without a thorough education. When I was ten years old my mother was left a widow. Father bequeathed to his wife and children a noble character, but no estate. I early learned the lessons of industry and frugality, and these combined with some native determination, made the venture of securing a college course at the age of eighteen rather easy. I was not afraid to work, nor to suffer.

I was a stranger to the faculty and student body. Moreover, I was a stranger to college ways, so my first step was to borrow enough money to put me through at least part of the first year. I found some janitor work that year. It helped, but not much. The next summer I worked in a grocery store, and when the term opened in the fall, I was back with a little money and plenty of nerve. During the second year more janitor work occupied my spare hours until the spring when I organized a boarding club, and remained as manager of that for the next two years. This partly paid my board, but room rent, tuition, and clothing were to be provided. Each summer I sought employment. One vacation was spent in a tin can factory; another in the Y. M. C. A., as an assistant secretary; another in doing my first preaching in a schoolhouse in the outskirts of the city of Wheeling. I had to do almost three full years of preparatory work, and my work was so irregular that I scarcely had a “class” until my senior year in college. Through the kindness of the faculty, I was permitted to do some work during vacation, pass examinations at the fall opening, and receive credits. I thus made my full course in economics.

The first money which I had borrowed was long overdue, although I had kept the interest paid. The note called for settlement, so after I had been in the struggle for four years, I asked for an appointment at the fall conference of our church and was sent to a circuit that paid $500. I served it for one year out of school. I felt more than ever desirous to finish my education, so I made preparations to return to college the next fall. The officials of the churches which I had been serving made it possible for me to return to them while carrying the regular work in my studies. Pastoral work was not demanded, and each week I traveled something over two hundred miles on the railroad, going to and from these churches, or rather, the station nearest the churches, and then walking from five to ten miles and preaching three times on Sunday. This was hard on the purse and the pulse, so the next year I asked for churches nearer the college. I got them. A job lot of them at that—just eight, with an extra preaching place tacked on! What I lost in railroad mileage, I gained in foot travel, beautiful mountain scenery, and good atmosphere. In June, 1908, I received the bachelor of arts degree, and in September of the same year entered Boston University School of Theology, from which I was graduated in June, 1911. My expenses were met here by preaching in a small church on the south shore of Cape Cod. With all my working I needed more money than I could earn, and the only resort was borrowing, which I did from my life insurance company, and from the board of education of the Methodist Episcopal Church. In all, I have spent nine full years in college and seminary work with a fairly good record in studies, and received no help except from my own labor. Having the will, I made the way.

Shinnston, W. Va.

KEEP GOOD COMPANY
PROFESSOR M. A. MCLEOD, A.B.

Being the son of an invalid mother and a Confederate soldier who received a wound that permanently disabled him, I did not attend school but five months till I was twenty-one years of age. Believing that education is to agriculture, commerce, society, professions, government, and Christianity what the sunshine and the rain are to the vegetable kingdom, and what Christ is to those who believe on Him, I decided to try to cultivate the mind of myself and as many others as I could.

When I left home, I had one dollar. “Keep good company, and may God bless you,” were the words which my mother gave me. By the time I had secured work, I had spent my dollar, but held on to the advice, which did me more good than all the gold of California would have done me. I was willing to do any honest thing to educate myself. I plowed, cooked, walked four miles to school, worked on Saturdays and during vacation, drove a wagon, rang bells, studied fifteen hours every twenty-four, and taught school.

Broadway, N. C.

THE DEMOCRACY OF A COLLEGE
HON. EDWIN G. MOON, PH.B., B.L.

I finished preparatory school in June, 1891, and was in debt. I taught a district school during the following season, paid the debt, and then taught another year in the preparatory itself. In the fall of 1893 I had accumulated about $150.

I had previously decided to enter the University as soon as I could, and in September I went to Iowa City with what cash I had and became a freshman. At that time I did not know how I should be able to sustain myself during the year, but proposed to remain there as long as I could and not to leave until I was compelled to do so by physical necessities. In those days board was a good deal cheaper than now, and clubs furnished the necessaries of life for $2.50 a week and the room cost us $6 a month, which sum was divided between myself and room-mate.

Along toward Christmas the necessity of purchasing a number of things that I could not figure on before, in the way of clothing and supplies, made it obvious that my funds would be exhausted long before the spring vacation of my freshman year. I had previously been looking around for a place to earn part of my expenses and finally secured a job as a waiter at a restaurant. In this manner I cut off the weekly expense for meals, as my meals were furnished at the restaurant as compensation for my services. Aside from this my expenses remained the same.

I finished that year with some money to spare and invested something in an outfit to enable me to earn money in the sale of stereoscopic views. The summer of 1893 was exceeding dry and times were very hard and this venture proved an expensive failure. At the end of three weeks from the time I started my money was gone and I had to get back home and start into something else. I finally got a job of looking after the insane patients at the Poor Farm at $25 a month and went back to the University with about $50. The second year was the hardest I had at the University, and, in fact, I had to borrow $100, which I secured from an old gentleman to whom I was a stranger, but to whom I was recommended by several students.

I had realized the necessity, from previous experience, of looking ahead for employment, and so when the spring vacation came I had got a job in the University library which I think paid me $2.00 a day, and in addition thereto I was janitor for the Y. M. C. A. building and also for one of the churches. The janitor work I did at night. This work I carried through the summer, managing still to do the work at the restaurant, which was light during the summer, but which paid for my meals. This gave me ample funds to begin my junior year. In the fall of that year I found an opportunity to write editorials for a local paper, which paid me $5.00 a week, so that I was able to quit the restaurant work. I was able to pay something on the loan that year, although not very much. This work on the newspaper I continued as long as I was in the University and it finally was the means of my finishing there in 1897.

I was a little in debt when I finished the course, but had another year yet in school before I could be admitted to the bar. I concluded to go to the city where I could get some business experience in a law office aside from training in school. So I went to Chicago and got a job in a law office at $5.00 a week, and attended a night school. Previous experience had taught me that the bare necessities of life do not cost so very much. I refunded the loan that I had secured while at the University and got $50 more. By securing a room that was large enough for three of us at Chicago, and which in addition had an alcove with a gas stove in it, where we could prepare part of our meals, I found living inexpensive.

After finishing the law school there, I remained a year working in a law office during the day and in the Crerar Library at night, until I had sufficient funds to pay all of my debts and to come back to Iowa and pay a few months’ rent for an office. I began business in my present location in that manner and have continued there ever since.

In 1906 I went to the State Senate as a representative of this district, and there found as colleagues five boys whom I had known at the University. Two of them had supported themselves while at the University by work similar to mine. One of them was janitor of a church and the other had been a waiter at a restaurant. I cannot say that I regard the experience as involving any great hardship. I never felt at any time, while I was at the University, that this employment which was obligatory was of any disadvantage to me, except that it took more time than I wished to devote to work. My experience is that there is more of a democratic spirit in universities and colleges than is found elsewhere in the world. Such work as I did could have been done by any able-bodied student, and I am quite certain it never would prove disadvantageous to his social standing. I believe that if I had it to do over again I could do the same thing to better advantage. While expenses are now higher than they were, compensation for labor is also a good deal higher and employment is much more easily found than during the years from 1893 to 1897. The question as to whether a collegiate education is available to every young man in this country I think is entirely dependent upon the question as to whether it is desired. I have no doubt that the experiences of many whom I knew at the University, which experiences were similar to mine, could be duplicated in almost any of the larger institutions of the country.

Ottumwa, Iowa.

OBEYING THE CALL
REV. J. F. MORGAN, A.B.

When I was about fifteen years of age I was converted and joined Big Oak Christian Church in Moore County, North Carolina. At the age of about seventeen I felt the divine call into the gospel ministry. I made known to the Lord my willingness to obey the heavenly vision. But I could not see how I could prepare myself for so great a work as I did not have any money. Neither was my father able to help me in a financial way. I was then working at public work and the money that I earned was being used to help support the large family to which I belonged, there being nine boys and four girls in our family.

However, I told my father of my desires and how that I desired to become a preacher some day. He told me that if I could make my own way through school he would let me go then, even though I had not reached the age of my freedom. I appreciated this kindness of my father very much. He was always good to us boys, and so was mother. But they were poor and I knew they needed my wages, at least until I was twenty-one. I knew I was no better than my other brothers, and I also knew that my father was not able to treat us all so nicely as to let us quit working for him before we were twenty-one years old. Hence I felt it best to work on with him until I reached that age, which I did.

On my twenty-first birthday the “boss man” paid me off and I carried the money to my father and gave it to him. I then began to work for myself and to plan to go to school. I worked at a shingle mill for two months, saving in that time about $30.00. I then left home for school. I had about fifteen dollars when I got to the first school I attended which was Why Not Academy in Randolph County, N. C., it being conducted at that time by Professor G. F. Garner. Here I kept “bachelor’s hall,” doing my own cooking and cutting wood on Saturdays to help defray my expenses.

While here I began to correspond with the President of Elon College, Elon College, N. C. This institution belongs to my own denomination and I decided that I wanted to study there. I had no money with which to pay my expenses, but I had some good friends who loaned me enough money to start to college on. So I entered Elon College. I was timid, dull, and embarrassed, but I know God had called me to a great work and that call included a preparation. I was willing to make the sacrifice. Those things with which I busied myself in the afternoons were chopping wood, cutting corn, and cleaning off the town cemetery. I kept up this work for the first year. The second year my conference licensed me to preach and I was called as pastor of two churches. After this I made my way through college by doing pastoral work. It was hard on me, but I believe it was God’s way of helping me through college.

My college career was one of hard work and much toil. In fact it was a miracle that I got through at all. And I am convinced that if a man has a noble purpose prompting him to strive for an education, he can get it.

Elon College, N. C.

DETERMINATION AND STEADFASTNESS WINS.
J. R. MOSLEY, L.I., B.S., M.S., PH.D.

My observation and experience has been that anyone who is anxious enough for a knowledge and culture to be willing to sacrifice false pride, and do well whatever his hands find to do that needs doing, can easily go through college, and even take advanced university training. It is not so much a question of money as desire, determination and steadfastness. The only exception is where one is bound by higher duties, such as caring for parents, or any call from the Divine that is direct and immediate.

When I started to college in the fall of 1889, I only had, of my own making, a little more than enough money to buy necessary clothing and railroad fare from Statesville, N. C., to Nashville, Tenn. I had stood the competitive examination for a scholarship at Peabody College for Teachers and that paid two hundred dollars a year in addition to free tuition.

Major Finger, who was then Superintendent of Education for North Carolina, wrote me that while others had won the scholarships open to North Carolina for that year, I was prepared to enter the sophomore class at Peabody, and that if I would pay my expenses one year, he would, upon the recommendation of the President, appoint me to a scholarship which would be good for two years. When mother saw my heart was set on going to college, she said, “Rufus shall go if we have to sell the creek field.” As I was the fourth child of a family of eight children, and as we were not through paying for the whole farm, I could not accept such a sacrifice.

When I told Mr. R. G. Franklin of Elkin, N. C., of Major Finger’s offer, he said he would be one of three men to lend $50.00 each. Col. A. B. Galoway of Elkin, and Mr. James Bates, near Capps Mill, joined him in furnishing the strictly necessary money for the first year. Father stood my security, and he and Col. Galoway and Mr. Bates have gone where such unselfish goodness and generous faith are fully appreciated and rewarded. Only Mr. Franklin lives for me to thank and bless for his faith and helping hand when both were so much needed. The good mother still lives, and has increasing joy and hope in life, and all of her children rise up and call her blessed.

During the first year at Peabody we had a short vacation in February, and I went out as an experimental book agent. I found that as trying as it was on the agent as well as the people, I could make money as a canvasser. Sometime in the spring Dr. Payne, President of Peabody, recommended me for a scholarship, and Major Finger gave me the appointment. This I held for two years until I received my bachelor’s degree. The summer vacations were all employed in canvassing or collecting, and I became a good enough collector for a publishing house at Nashville to pay me $70.00 a month and expenses. Apart from my strict loyalty to my employer and hard work, I regret this part of my life, for I have seen for a long time that the selling of even Bibles to the poor at high prices on the seductive installment plan, is a form of business that is not righteous enough even to use as a means for getting an education. As the true light breaks upon us, we can do nothing that is not necessary, right and beneficent.

During the first three years at Nashville, I received on scholarship, made by summer work and saved enough money to pay back all I had borrowed for the first year and to take one year’s graduate work at Nashville. My expenses had been considerably increased on account of rather poor general health and the loss of time and expense of three spells of sickness while I was canvassing or collecting. Being prominent in college life, and having too much of the pride for the finest and most sensible economy, also caused my expenses to be more than were strictly necessary. Indeed false pride has been my expensive weakness and has stood most in the way of a life in strict harmony with reason, love and the spirit of truth.

Before I had taken my master’s degree at Nashville, I was offered a fellowship in the Wharton School of Finance of the University of Pennsylvania, that paid $160.00 a year, the necessary university expenses. But I had my heart set on going to the University of Chicago. President Harper told that they would do as well by me as the University of Pennsylvania, so I entered there as a graduate student in 1893, the year of the World’s Fair at Chicago. I got to see much of the exposition during its last month without harm to my class work. I was given work as an assistant in the library, which called for cutting leaves of new books and magazines, putting the library stamp upon them, and carrying them to the departmental libraries. I was also an assistant in one of the departmental libraries. A dear college friend and professor at Nashville, Mr. A. P. Bourland, gave me such aid as was necessary until I received a fellowship that paid me $320.00 a year. The fellowship was awarded by Professor Harry Pratt Judson, now the president of the University. A short time after receiving this fellowship I was offered a professorship at Mercer University, Macon, Georgia, and the way was open for me to continue my education as a teacher and as a student as long as I cared. For two years it was arranged for me to teach at Mercer half of the year and spend the other at the University of Chicago, where I taught one class and continued my work as a student. The third year I taught six months at Mercer and spent the spring semester at Heidelberg, Germany. The following year I taught about seven months at Mercer, and went to Harvard for the closing lectures of the spring term and for the summer work.

Before the sixth year of my work at Mercer had closed, I was told by Chancellor Hill of the University of Georgia, that with my consent he would go before the board of trustees and recommend the creation of a new chair, the character of which would be determined largely by preferences, and he would recommend me to fill it. As inviting as it was I declined the generous offer, and in a short time resigned my position at Mercer for the quest of health, truth and the larger freedom along the lines of study and activity.

Macon, Georgia.

MAKING ONESELF USEFUL
REV. W. J. NELSON, B.A., M.A., TH.M., TH.D., PH.D.

I was the oldest of a large family of children. My father had no income, save what he made on a small farm, and a little corn, flour, meat and other produce with a dollar now and then, which he received for full time pastoring two or three churches. The district schools where we lived were poorly equipped and managed, and ran only a few months each year. Until I was thirteen years old I got the best these schools could give. But with a growing family without a corresponding growth in my father’s income, at thirteen, to aid in the support of the family, I was forced to give up my schooling and do mill work when I was not working on the farm.

All I had learned up to that time was reading, writing and a little arithmetic. Since the nature of my work did not require that I keep up my writing and arithmetic, I soon forgot both. But the thirst to know about things and people caused me to read all my spare time. My father himself was a college-trained man. He worked hard on the farm or elsewhere all the week and preached every Sunday, never faltering in spirit. But sometimes he would fail in strength of body. Though he never complained, I could often see that hurt look on his face. This was caused by the financial depression which followed Cleveland’s administration, the covetousness of the people he served and other circumstances, which were depriving him of giving his children the educational advantages enjoyed by the children of those whom he served.

All this time I was longing for an education, and saw the disadvantage to which the lack of it was placing me. My father would each year promise me that the next year I could go to school. But when the time came I would have to stay and work and let the younger children go or let a note on a new schoolhouse, a new church house or Howard College, at Birmingham, Ala., be paid. The fortitude of my father, that look on his face, the rainbow promise that some day I should even go to Howard College, and the thought that I was helping him care for the others and keep my sisters and younger brothers in school, made it easier for me. But many times I bathed my pillow with tears till the tired body forced sleep, all because I could not go to school like my boy companions.

Thus I toiled on until I was nearly eighteen years old. My body was already stooping with toil, my hands hard and horny. I had forgotten how to write. I knew not how to figure, except a little “in my head.” But still I read. This only increased my thirst for an education. At last the promised rainbow now appeared just ahead. Next year I was going back to school. And I was to stay there till I had finished at Howard College. But again my father failed me because others failed him. I did not get to go. This was my severest disappointment, and but for a move my father made it would have been almost unbearable.

This time he resolved to sell his little home and go West to try life all over again. We moved to Texas into a frontier section where there were not even at that time the small school advantages back in Alabama. It took all the little home brought to get us out West. We had to start again from the very bottom. The second year my father bought a piece of undeveloped land. For five years I stayed with him, helping him to make sure a home for him, mother and the children. His health was fast breaking by this time. For the first three years there was no opportunity for schooling. I was by that time twenty-one years old, too old for free tuition, and I had no money.

The winter of the fourth year I had one month of a breathing spell which brought to me an opportunity. My father told me of six acres of very fine land he wished opened and if I could get it cleared I might have all it made. Meantime the trustees of a little district school two miles away needed some wood for the school and offered to take it as tuition. So here was my chance. During the day I went to school, furnishing wood for tuition. After school hours and at night, by the light from burning brush, I cleared the land. It made three bales of cotton, the proceeds of which I saved for my future education. The next year I hired to my father for ten dollars a month and my board. This money I also added to my schooling fund. The following winter I got another month schooling at the little district school, again furnishing wood in payment for tuition. I again hired to my father for twelve dollars and fifty cents a month, saving every cent I could.

Things were now getting easier at home. Our new home was paid for. The land was very fertile. My father’s health was much better. Many settlers were coming in. A good district school was being developed. Most of my brothers and sisters were getting the free schooling. Some of my older sisters were being sent away to school. I was now nearly twenty-three. I had taken advantage of what I had. The little school where I had gone for a month each of the two preceding winters was not a graded school. This had made it a little less embarrassing for me. For fear the teacher would hold me back, I had carried a copy-book in my pocket without his knowledge, that I might the sooner learn to make the letters of the alphabet. I had learned how to use figures up to common fractions and how to spell a few simple words. With the exception of these two months’ schooling it had now been about ten years since I left the schoolroom, ten years of the best part of my life for acquiring an education—from thirteen to twenty-three. But after this added waiting and hoping of a little over five more years, my rainbow again appeared as from a sudden burst of sunlight on a receding cloud.

My chance had at last come and I was going to use it. It came in this fashion: It was one March day just after the noon hour I had started to the field, when there came to me a letter from the principal of a boarding school which had both a graded and high school department. He wanted someone to live with him and do his chores for board while attending the school. The crop was started, and, of course, to leave at this time would disconcert my father and his plans for the year. But there were only a little over two more school months in that session. And if I would go then I could have the place as long as I wished it. If not, someone else might take it and my chance would be gone. My father saw the opportunity for me and acquiesced.

With the money I had saved and this opportunity to work for my board, I now left home and began my schooling in earnest. I entered this school in the low sixth grade. However, having a strong body and willing mind, I carried eight studies while the others carried only four. In the two remaining months of that session and the two following years I completed the high school course. I graduated with honors, was valedictorian, and received the faculty medal for the highest grades made in school my senior year. The week following the close of school I passed an examination for a county teacher’s certificate.

But to do all this I had to work. For my board in that home, I had all the wood to cut, water to draw, fires to make, garden and yard to keep, horses and cow to care for, fences, etc., to repair and many other odds and ends to do. In order to prepare my school work I did not retire till ten and arose again at three or four, getting only from five to six hours’ sleep out of the twenty-four.

There is one little incident connected with my stay in this school that might be worth mentioning, as it shows how I met one of the greatest difficulties which a young man just entering school at my age has to meet. As I have said, I entered this school at the age of twenty-three in the low sixth grade. Those in my classes were children about twelve and thirteen years old. You can imagine how I felt, a big awkward young man twenty-three years old in classes composed mostly of little children from ten to twelve years younger. But my embarrassment was intensified when one day a little twelve-year-old girl made fun of the way I was trying to work an example in common fractions. I felt hurt; I closed my book and quietly walked to my seat. A cousin of mine was teaching the class. She caught the look on my face and saw that it was not that of rebellion, but that I was only hurt, embarrassed, and was trying to conquer. I shall never forget the kind look she gave me, as she said, “Will, you are excused, if you wish to go.” Her remark was not only a rebuke to that member of the class, but it helped me to conquer. I took my books and went to my room resolved to show this little girl that, “He laughs best who laughs last.” And I did. When I started she was almost a grade in advance of me. But I finished one year ahead of her with honors while she hardly got through a year later.

I had been working heretofore during the summer vacation months that I might be able to return to school each winter. But as I was to teach the coming winter, I spent the summer studying at the North Texas State Normal, Denton, Texas. To do this, I now for the first time borrowed money, fifty dollars, from a friend of mine, a banker, who had once struggled for his education. He had been watching me and gladly came to my help and voluntarily offered all the money I needed. With this fifty dollars I was able to take the summer normal course. At the close of it I passed an examination for a state teacher’s certificate which entitled me to teach in any of the public schools in the State.

On returning home I was given the home school where four years before I had learned to figure and write, paying for my tuition with wood. The salary was forty dollars per month and the length of session was now six months. This seemed like a big salary to one who had never before received more than twelve dollars and fifty cents per month. But it was not the salary, it was the opportunity that I now saw further to pursue my studies and to instill something of the same spirit and enthusiasm in others, that now meant so much to me.

I had once hoped for no more than the mere knowledge of how to read and write and figure, which this little district school had in former days given me. But with that knowledge had come a broader vision and the ability and opportunity to pursue that vision—that of getting a high school education. And now I had reached that goal, had gone to the state normal and held from the State a recognition of the right and ability to pursue this still greater vision of giving knowledge and inspiration to others, how could I ever wish or hope for more?

But it chanced that that very summer my rainbow again moved out just ahead of me. I attended a district Baptist association. Dr. S. P. Brooks, president of Baylor University, was there and made a speech on education. Here I heard how he had once been a section hand on a railroad. And now he was the president of a university, and with a great heart was telling me and others how we needed that college and how it really needed us as instruments through which to bless the world. Oh! That was almost another world’s message to me. My vision again broadened. The rainbow of my boyhood days again appeared.

I did not get to talk to this man. I was half-way afraid of him or revered him. But I did not need to talk to him. I had heard him and he had inspired me. I returned to my home with new hopes and soon formed new plans. I would work hard till the opening of my school to pay off the fifty dollars I had borrowed. Then I would save all that I made teaching that session that I might go to college the next. Yes, I wanted to be faithful to my former vision and purpose to teach that school. But at the same time I would make it a stepping stone to something higher.

But I was prevented from doing this. Just about two weeks before my school was to open, a preacher from a near town came to me and asked me if I wanted to go to Baylor University. I readily told him I did. “Would you go?” he asked. I replied, “I would if I could.” But that seemed impossible. I had no money. My father could not help me. And, besides, I was under obligation to teach that school. He offered to help overcome all these difficulties if I would only go. I afterward saw that his main purpose was to see if I wanted to go, and would if I could.

He himself had worked his way through Mississippi College and the Seminary. Without my knowledge, he and his church had watched my struggle for an education. Ofttimes in former days I had sold him and other members of that church, not knowing who they were at the time, many cords of wood and watermelons to help pay my way in school. I had now stopped and was going to teach. They were afraid this would mean the end of my own school days. Thus he came in behalf of his church to ask me to go on at once to college. If I would do so they would furnish me ten dollars per month. I saw the trustees of the school I had contracted to teach. They were unselfish and sympathetic toward me. Glad that I had this opportunity, they released me on condition that I help secure a teacher in my place. This was easily and satisfactorily done. I renewed the note at the bank, and with the money I had made since my return from the Normal and the first ten dollars from that church I made preparation, and bought my ticket for Waco, Texas, to enter Baylor University. After I had bought my ticket I had but fifteen dollars. I felt that if I could only get there I could work for my board, and with the promised ten dollars a month I could pay all my other expenses.

When I reached college there was but one person in all that city, student body and faculty, that I had ever before seen—Dr. Brooks. And he had never before met me. I could not get there till the night before matriculation began. Then I could find no opening or home where I could work for my board. They had all been taken. Dr. Brooks saw my anxiety and disappointment. He encouraged me to hope and hang on. And I did.

I made arrangements with a students’ club for a month’s board, matriculated as subfreshman and got down to work. I saw that Dr. Brooks was very busy. Therefore I never went to him with my troubles. But he would sometimes overtake me on the campus or call for me to come to his office and would encourage me. Once while on a trip somebody sent by him fifteen dollars to help me hold on. I do not now know where it came from. I was able also to get five dollars per month from a students’ aid fund. I have often felt that without this it would have been impossible for me to stay. For at the end of the first month there was still no place open for me to work. And so it was from time to time for the first year. When I would hear of and go to see a place someone was just ahead of me. Then once or twice the church would fail to send me the ten dollars. How I ever stayed out that first year I can hardly realize. It seems like a nightmare at times as I look back on it.

I had no money to renew my worn-out clothes. And in those days I became an artist with a needle. I could put as nice a patch on the elbow of my coat sleeve and elsewhere as any woman. And when the feet of my socks would no longer hold darning, I would cut them off and sew two legs together, sew up one end, and wear them that way. And at the wash tub, there was not in all the South a black mammy that could beat me. I bought me a set of smoothing irons and with the exception of my collars and occasionally a shirt I ironed all my clothes. I also pressed my coat and trousers. And by pressing now and then for others I would bring a twenty-five cent piece to my depleted purse. But there were homesickness and heart aches. There was no going home Christmas and other vacations. And more than once my hope was almost gone. And ofttimes when my room-mate had gone to sleep I would slip away into the darkness to the old Baptist Tabernacle, that once stood where the First Baptist Church now stands, and pray till far into the night for God to help me hold on and to open up some way. I well remember one morning after a night of wrestling, my room-mate approached me and asked if I needed any money, saying that his parents had sent him more than was necessary for his immediate needs. I told him my condition. He gladly lent me enough to pay up my board for another month.

This ended my first year. The delayed check from the church enabled me to return home, where I spent the summer at hard work. I had had a taste of college life. I had also tried my mettle, and was now determined to finish. The church again promised to continue its help.

Therefore, I came back that fall, but with a more hopeful outlook. Soon after my return I found a good home three miles out from the college where I could work for my board, and also some clerical work. I notified the church that I could get along without their help, thanking them for what they had done for me and asking that they help someone else as they had me. This they did. The nature of the work I did in this home was very much like that I did while in high school. I continued to work here for three years.

After staying in this home a year and at the close of my freshman year, the pastor of the East Waco Church, where I worshiped and taught an adult Bible class, had to give up his work because of ill health. Though I had never been ordained, but had tried to preach a few times, the church asked that I supply the pulpit till they could get a pastor. I agreed to do so. They paid me ten dollars per Sunday for my service, which lasted for six months. But I continued working for my board, fearing to give up the place lest somebody else would have it when I got through with the church. Besides, by doing this, and with that forty dollars per month for six months, I was able to pay the fifty dollars I owed the bank, provide myself with some necessary things, continue my college work during the summer term and have enough to return for my sophomore year.

However, all this work was not done without some embarrassment, especially at first. This family for whom I worked were in good circumstances financially and were members of that church. Ofttimes on Sunday morning after I had done their chores, dressed in my blue “Carhartt” overalls, I would hitch their horse to the carriage for them to go to church. Then I would put on my best clothes and go and get in the pulpit and preach to them. But these proved to be some of the best friends I ever had.

Thus, by means of plenty of hard work, it was made easier for me to stay in college. When I ceased my service for the East Waco Church I was called to serve a small suburban church for one-half time for ten dollars per month. After a while they increased this to fifteen. In my junior year I was called to another church, sixty miles out from Waco, for the other two Sundays at twenty-five dollars per month. At the close of my junior year I gave up working for my board, devoting all my energies to my college and church work. Also at the close of my junior year I was awarded the first holder of the M. H. Wolfe scholarship of two hundred and fifty dollars to be used during my senior year. During this year I had smooth sailing.

At the close of my senior year I was awarded the E. L. Marston scholarship of two hundred and fifty dollars to Brown University, Providence, R. I. I again spent my summer working hard and then borrowed two hundred dollars that I might supplement this scholarship and go to Brown for my A.M. work. I had become so accustomed to working during both school and vacation that I might stay in school, I continued to do so while in Brown and on through my seminary year. After taking my A.M., I returned to Brown for a second year of postgraduate work. This last year I made an average of ninety-five dollars per month while also carrying on my university studies.

The next year I went to the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Louisville, Ky. The first year I was there I finished the Th.M. degree, and pastored a half-time church outside of Louisville. I returned to the Seminary a second year, completed the class work and stood the examination for the postgraduate Th.D. course. I expect later to submit my thesis for that degree.

Through it all I got a full share of college and seminary life and spirit. The knowledge, inspiration and visions of life were but a part of what I got. There were also close friendships and insight into human nature. I also had my part of college fun and got my share of class and student honors. It was not necessary to be, as some may think, a mere grind.

Thus I have told you the story of how I got my education. I was twenty-three when I left home to begin in the sixth grade. I was thirty-three the day before I received my Th.M. degree from the Seminary. And one year later I left the schoolroom with a younger spirit, a broader vision, better equipped to continue my place in the service of humanity and God.

During it all I borrowed only two hundred and fifty dollars. At the end I had paid this back and paid for fifty acres of land. My father never helped me a cent. He was not able at first. But he did appreciate my struggle, and late in my college course came to me and said that he was in better circumstances and if I ever got to where I could not go myself to let him know. I never got to that place. He asked for the pleasure of making me a present of my first college diploma. I gladly gave him this pleasure. The departure of that hurt and disappointed look on his face, in knowing that I was somehow getting what he wanted me to have, has repaid me a thousand times for all the struggles I have had to make unsupported by him.

You may think that my being a minister and the salary from preaching made it easier for me than it would be for others. But this is not necessarily true. For if you will note, the work that I did was the work that anyone can do and it was up to and through my high school, subfreshman and freshman years in college that I had such a hard struggle. And it was after this time that I ever received a cent for preaching. Moreover, for two years of my time at Baylor I had to pay my tuition, one year by working in the Library, the other with a scholarship. And at Brown University no free tuition is given; preachers and all pay alike.

There is a college education for every man. And all that is needed for the acquiring of such is an uncompromising desire and purpose and strength of body and mind.

Rock Hill, S. C.

A FAITH “DIVINELY SIMPLE”
REV. S. F. NICKS, A.B.

Orange County, North Carolina, was my native home, where I was reared on the farm in a home of limited means. There were eight of us children who grew to manhood and womanhood in the old home.

Our advantages for an education were unusually poor, being only that of the old free school which at the time ran from two to three months in the year and ofttimes we did not get to attend all the time. That old free school was all that my brothers and sisters ever had the privilege of attending. Father provided a good honest living for the home, but was not able to send his children away to school.

I was not willing to stop with only the advantage that little school afforded. At twenty-one I had fifty-four dollars, and with that I entered the Siler City high school and remained there for three five-month terms. While there I did my own cooking, cut wood, made fires and swept the academy for my tuition. I then taught one session of public school at $20 per month. I then entered the Caldwell Institute of Orange County, N. C., and was in school there two years. The first year I boarded with a widow and did enough work to pay my board and received my tuition there for work that I did in securing students.

In the fall of 1899 I entered Trinity College, where I remained four years, graduating in the spring of 1903. While in college the work that I did for paying expenses was mostly during vacation. By this time I had become quite a successful salesman. I traveled every vacation, selling books, pictures, etc. The goods that I handled were always of a helpful nature, and as an evidence of this fact I traveled the same territory for five different summers. Every summer I made enough to pay my expenses in college the following session, and when I graduated I was in better circumstances financially than when I entered. The last summer I was promoted as general agent for books and had several sub-agents working under me.

Now I have briefly outlined how I worked my way through high school and college, while there are many other ways not mentioned in which I earned small amounts, such as cutting hair, mending shoes and cleaning clothes, I desire to say that the working my way was not all; I can remember how well I managed—making a little go a long way; learning the value of a dollar and knowing when and how to spend it to the best advantage. All this is due to my keeping a book account of all my expenses. I kept an itemized account of everything, even to my postage stamps.

I shall never forget the kind words of encouragement from Dr. W. P. Few and others while I was in college. Dr. Few, now president of Trinity College, is truly a friend to a poor boy.

In conclusion I desire to say that my working and managing my way through school has been of untold value to me in other ways. I have never had work that paid any fancy salary, but have always been able to lay aside a little every year. The Giver of all has helped me to manage that little so that it continually grows and multiplies and shall ever be dedicated to the Master’s use.

Milton, N. C.