The next morning he took me to the stand, which was a small frame building—size, about eight by ten—which stood on the northwest corner of Halsted and Harrison Streets.
This was a very slow business, and too slow to suit me, yet I continued to run it about three months, when by repeated losses on decayed fruit, and the too frequent visits of relatives and friends, we found the business in an unhealthy condition and lost no time in looking up a buyer, which we were fortunate in finding and successful in getting a good price from.
After receiving my share of the profits, which was about enough to pay my expenses back to Ohio, I decided to go there.
On arriving home, my mother said she hoped I was satisfied now that I couldn't make money, and that I was only fooling my time away. She said she had told Mr. Keefer just how that fruit business would end.
I took Mr. Keefer to one side and explained just "how it all happened" and how the fruit all rotted, and how my relatives and friends helped themselves. He said they ought to be ashamed and it was too bad.
I borrowed a few dollars from him for incidental expenses, until I could "strike something."
My mother wanted to know what I expected to do, and said I needn't ask Mr. Keefer for money, because he shouldn't give me a penny.
Of course I could give her no satisfaction. She finally said was going to take me to a jeweler, with whom she had talked, and have me learn the jeweler's trade. I disliked the idea and rebelled against it. She was determined, however, and compelled me to accompany her.
The jeweler had a talk with me and told my mother he thought he could make quite a mechanic out of me.