Watch Yourself Go By

by Al. G. Field

"Uncle Henry, I am not my brother's keeper. I had opposition with one of those so-called old time minstrel shows a short time ago. Our company was making money every night. They were barely paying expenses. And yet the greater part of their press work was devoted to informing the public that we were not genuine minstrels, our singers wore white wigs, flesh colored stockings and satin suits. They were really advertising one of the attractions of our exhibition. We copied that notice and had it sent broadcast over the sections where the companies conflicted. I watched the press closely and but one paper that came under my observation endorsed their idea."

"Now, Alfred, let me tell you something. I've had all I wanted to eat and drink; I've worn good clothes; I've helped the poor; I've kept my family right; and I've seen enough of this world to convince me the only way to have money to burn is not to burn it. To have money to spend when you are old, is to save it while you're young. I was so poor when I was young, I had my lesson. Say, son, it's a sad thing to be poor when you're young, not wanted in your brother's home. But it's dreadful to be poor when you are old and not wanted anywhere. You can't make a living. You are dependent upon charity. Now don't fool yourself and say with your income you can't save. If you can live you can save. George M. Pullman, Marshall Field, John D. Rockefeller, and a thousand others began saving on less than your income. Now, Alfred, don't think because the fool in your business has spent money recklessly, don't think that's an excuse for you to spend. I know minstrel people. I know them backwards. Don't be like them. The only things to do in this world, day after day, are the things you ought to do. You can't do too much for others, but don't depend upon them to do for you. A poor, old man is the saddest sight on earth."

"It's true I felt mighty sore that my folks threw me on the world so young. But you bet I am proud of the fact that I can buy and sell the whole kit of them. I help them, I give them, I don't begrudge it to them; but, while I can't entirely forget the bitterness of those boyhood days, I can't help but feel a bit proud that I am independent of them in my old days. And to hear some of them talk, you'd think they made me. Well, they did, but they didn't intend to. While they were sitting around praying for prosperity, I was sweating. Sweating, it's a good thing. It takes all the bad diseases out of you and a good deal of the cussedness. Say, Alfred, you never knowed a skin-flint that sweat. Stingy men never sweat. I admire all good people but I would rather see a man give another a meal, than talk over his victuals and eat them alone when he knows there's someone next door hungry. Did you ever notice when a man thinks he's a genius he lets his hair grow long and when a woman gets out of her place, to be something she oughtn't to be, she cuts her hair short. Every crank puts some kind of a brand on themselves. You don't have to talk to them to find out what they are.

"I sold whiskey when I was in the wholesale grocery business. Everybody in my line sold it. You remember the best stores in Columbus sold it. You couldn't hold a first-class trade if you didn't sell it. I never sold it to people who had no shoes. I never sold it to young men nor to old men in their dotage. There was never preacher came to me to talk religion or anything else while I was selling whiskey. But as soon as I sold out the whiskey business, they began runnin' after me. One of them kept a-comin' and a-comin'. He kept tellin' me how to live, how to spend the rest of my days. Get a library. A library was the greatest thing a man could have. It kept your mind at rest; you could seek refuge in your library at any time when in trouble. I promised him to get a library. I had one built expressly. I had two barrels of Old Crow whiskey that I kept when I sold the store. I filled a sufficient number of quart bottles to fill the shelves of the library, labeled the bottles, and waited for the next visit of the gentleman who induced me to invest in a library. He congratulated me on taking his advice. I told him I never had any learning to speak of; when I should have been at school I had to be at work; perhaps I should have consulted him about stocking the library. He expressed a desire to examine it. When I threw the doors open and the rows of bottles of Old Crow came into his view, he never flinched. I told Jim if he fainted to be handy with a pail of water. But he never backed off. He put his glasses on his nose, read the labels and 'lowed while my library was large it was not greatly diversified. Thereafter the good man was more deeply interested in me than ever before. At first he called once a day. It was not long until he called three times a day regularly."

Uncle Henry's Library

Jim describes the scene thusly: "Uncle Henry, lolling in the big, easy chair, sleepily. Enter the gentleman who recommended the library. 'Good morning, Brother Hunt, I hope you are feeling well'; Uncle Henry, with eyes half-closed, never waited to hear more. He languidly motioned towards the sideboard, closed his eyes, looked the other way. Uncle Henry's idea of a gentleman was one who turned his back while you were pouring out your liquor."

Uncle Henry was known to every showman in America. He maintained a field whereon the circuses pitched their tents. He owned the billboards. No circus visited Burlington that did not find him an interested friend.

I have heard that Uncle Henry could drive a good bargain in a trade. I never knew him as a buyer or a seller. I only knew him as one who knew how to give. I only knew him as one who found it more blessed to give than receive.

His qualities of good more than overbalanced his imperfections. His was a character that left its impress on the community in which he was known. He was loved by those who were welcomed in his hospitable home. There have been men of more renown than the hardy old blacksmith, who, from a barefooted boy made his way without education or friends, and that he was influenced in his feelings by his early hardships was only the man that was in him, over-balancing the better nature of one who, when a friend was a friend, who, when against you, was always in the open. He was as honest in his dislikes as he was in his admirations.