“Oh, you mean this stupidity and this luck of mine,” said Carnegie, with a smile. “It's a good deal to account for, but I'll try.
“I went into business when I was six years old—raised pigeons and rabbits. Other boys helped me, and were rewarded by having rabbits named after them. My hero was Wallace Bruce. Often I had to pass a graveyard at night, and was a bit afraid of it. Then I used to say to myself that Wallace would not be so foolish, and went on with a better heart in me. In many a time of trouble I have asked myself what Wallace would do, and have tried to do it.
“We came to America when I was eleven, and I began work across the river, in Allegheny City, at one dollar and twenty cents a week. You know this is a time of business combinations. I made one of the first on record. It was this way: I got to be a messenger boy at two dollars and a half a week, and learned the names of all the business firms, in their proper order, on the leading streets. There were four of us who delivered for the telegraph company, and each got ten cents when a message took him beyond city limits. There was a contest between the boys for these messages. I got them together, and suggested that the extra fees be divided equally. We made a sort of pool, or trust, and never quarrelled again. You see, I am at heart a peacemaker. I have always worked along that line—putting two and two together, and establishing harmony between them.”
“That is what Lincoln has done,” said McCarthy. “At last he has brought the North and South together, and begun to establish harmony.”
“He is the first gentleman in the world,” said the other.
“I know he is a very great one,” said McCarthy, “but I wish he were a little more particular in his dress and manners. I don't believe he's read the Letters of Lord Chesterfield.”
“He is the modern democratic gentleman,” said Mr. Carnegie. “He has shown us how little dress and manners have to do with it.”
Mr. Carnegie stopped, for suddenly a man had rushed in upon us.
“My God!” he sobbed, as he sank into a chair with tears running down his cheeks, “Lincoln has been assassinated!”
Outside bells had begun tolling, and we could hear the running of many feet.