EDUCATION
Along in the sixties Pat Casey pushed a wheelbarrow across the plains from St. Joseph, Mo., to Georgetown, Colo., and shortly after that he "struck it rich"; in fact, he was credited with having more wealth than any one else in Colorado. A man of great shrewdness and ability, he was exceedingly sensitive over his inability to read or write. One day an old-timer met him with:
"How are you getting along, Pat?"
"Go 'way from me now," said Pat genially, "me head's bustin' wid business. It takes two lid-pincils a day to do me wurruk."
A catalog of farming implements sent out by the manufacturer finally found its way to a distant mountain village where it was evidently welcomed with interest. The firm received a carefully written, if somewhat clumsily expressed letter from a southern "cracker" asking further particulars about one of the listed articles.
To this, in the usual course of business, was sent a type-written answer. Almost by return mail came a reply:
"You fellows need not think you are so all-fired smart, and you need not print your letters to me. I can read writing."