James never enjoyed his earlier experiences in school. When he should have been studying his history and arithmetic lessons he busied himself with writing rhymes. Later in life he was very sorry that he had not persevered in his regular school work. There were some things in school, however, that he did exceptionally well. Few boys in that part of the state could recite poetry as well as he, and he was always called on to speak pieces at the school entertainments. Though some of his teachers were inclined to neglect him, he had one teacher who understood him and took a great interest in him. The name of this teacher was Mr. Lee O. Harris, and Mr. Riley never tired of saying good things about him. The fact that Mr. Harris loved literature and had some poetic ability of his own made it possible for him to see in James powers that others did not see, and to encourage him when others discouraged him.
After leaving school James had some experiences that were so unusual and yet so very interesting that I am sure we should be delighted to have him, in his own delightful manner, tell us about them.
“I tried to read law with my father, but I didn’t seem to get anywhere. Forgot as diligently as I read; so what was the use. I had learned the sign-painter’s trade, but it was hardly what I wanted to do always, and my health was bad––very bad.
“A doctor here in Greenfield advised me to travel. But how in the world was I to travel without money. It was just at this time that the patent-medicine man came along. He needed a man, and I argued this way: ‘This man is a doctor, and if I must travel, better travel with a doctor.’ He had a fine team and a nice looking lot of fellows with him; so I plucked up courage to ask if I couldn’t go along and paint his advertisements for him.
“I rode out of town without saying goodbye to anyone, and though my patron wasn’t a doctor with a diploma, as I found out, he was a mighty fine man, and kind to his horses, which was a recommendation. He was a man of good habits, and the whole company was made up of good straight boys.
“My experience with him put an idea into my head–– a business idea, for a wonder––and the next year I went down to Anderson and went into partnership with a young fellow to travel. We organized a scheme of advertising with paint, and we called our business ‘The Graphic Company.’ We had five or six young fellows, all musicians, as well as handy painters, and we used to capture the towns with our music. One fellow could whistle like a nightingale, another sang like an angel, and another 89 played the banjo. I scuffled with the violin and guitar.
“Our only dissipation was clothes. We dressed loud. You could hear our clothes an incalculable distance. We had an idea it helped business. Our plan was to take one firm of each business in town, painting its advertisement on every road leading to town.
“You’ve heard the story about my traveling all over the state as a blind sign-painter? Well, that started this way: One day we were in a small town, and a great crowd was watching us in breathless wonder and curiosity; and one of our party said; ‘Riley, let me introduce you as a blind sign-painter.’ So just for the mischief I put on a crazy look in the eyes, and pretended to be blind. They led me carefully to the ladder, and handed me my brush and paints. It was great fun. I’d hear them saying as I worked, ‘That feller ain’t blind.’ ‘Yes he is; see his eyes.’ ‘No, he ain’t, I tell you; he’s playin’ off.’ ‘I tell you he is blind. Didn’t you see him fall over a box and spill all his paints?’
“Now, that’s all there was to it. I was a blind sign-painter one day and forgot it the next. We were all boys, and jokers, naturally enough, but not lawless. All were good fellows, all had nice homes and good people.”