in the aisle, and asked him if he wanted a boy. He looked at me with a kindly face, asked me some questions, then motioned to a big blond man, standing near, to come to him. The dark man and the blond man talked together, looking me over the while. Then the dark man asked me if I knew anyone near by who could speak for me. I instantly remembered that a cousin, George Morris, was a librarian in a near-by library. I ran over to him; he came with me to the store, and told the black man and the blond man who I was. His recommendation being sufficient, I was employed on the instant as a cash boy in this store of Cole and Hopkins, the second largest in the city; the black man was Mr. Cole; the blond man Mr. Hopkins.

I was in my eleventh year when I thus entered upon business life, and with one brief exception I never went to school again until I was twenty years old.

When I came home and told my mother what I had done, she cried and said that I could not, must not leave school and go to work. What would people say when they heard that the grandson of Thomas Morris was cash boy in Cole and Hopkins'? When Father came home and the matter was discussed in the family council, my father said, "You had better let the boy do what he wants to do, Mrs. Crapsey. As for school, life is the best school of all, and your father, Senator Morris, began his life as a squatter, making his living by the work of his own hands. It seems to me that Algernon has shown enterprise and decision. We had better let him have his own way." Whether this reasoning convinced my mother or not, I cannot say, but I do know that I was up bright and early the next morning without being called. My mother was likewise out of bed, and in the kitchen. She made me a hot breakfast, packed my lunch box and, with tears streaming down her cheeks, kissed me good-bye, and I went proudly, in the early morning light, down the hill to Vine

Street, through Vine Street, "over the Rhine," down to my place of business in the city.

In exchange for my talent and my time I received the princely sum of one dollar a week. Do not scorn me, dear reader, for a dollar was a dollar in those days; it bought all my clothes, gave me my spending-money, and enabled me to help a little with the family expenses. When the first Christmas of my business life came, I took my dollar and bought my mother a toilet case for her Christmas present. I went up early in the morning before she was out of bed and said, "Mother, here's a little Christmas present; I bought it with my own money." Then my mother drew me up on the bed, took me in her arms, hugged and kissed me, laughed and cried and said she was proud of me, and we were as happy together as though my present had cost a hundred dollars instead of a single dollar.

When I started in business a cash boy was a cash boy; when a sale was made the clerk would rap on the counter with his pencil and cry "Cash”; then the cash boy would scurry to the call, take the goods and the cash to the desk; the bundle boy would tie up the goods, the cashier make the change; the cash boy would carry the bundle and the change to the clerk at the counter, and that transaction was closed. It was an exciting occupation; it was run, run, run all the day. The boy learned to be sharp and quick, to call down the bundle boy, chide the cashier; for woe betide the boy who was wrong with his change. If it was too little, the cashier would say the cash boy stole it; if it was too much, the cashier would say, "The cash boy ought to 'a' known it afore he took it from the desk." Once I remember some money was lost; the cashier said I took it. I said I didn't. When Mr. Hopkins came along I cried and said, "Mr. Hopkins, Cashier says I stole seventy-five cents. Do you think I ud do it?" Mr. Hop

kins laughed and said, "No, I don't think a grandson of Thomas Morris would steal seventy-five cents"; and so I went free, thanks to Grandpa.

A dry-goods store in those days was a dry-goods store and it was nothing else. We didn't demean ourselves to sell gumdrops and popcorn and soda water and candy. Not we; we sold cottons and silks, woollens and linens. It was a man's job; no skirts were allowed behind the counters. No long-legged girls answered to the call of "Cash! Cash!" I followed this calling for nearly two years, when my father was retained in a lawsuit involving millions of money. The retaining-fees lightened the financial gloom of the family. My mother said I ought to go back to school. I agreed, and so brought to a close this first episode of my active business life.

W

CHAPTER VIII

WAR'S ALARMS

HEN I went back to school, a lad of fourteen, I had to begin where I had left off and was graded with boys of ten and eleven. It is true that I had learned in the world of business what I could never have learned in the school, but this availed me not at all. Knowledge of the world and knowledge of books have little in common; proficiency in the one gives one no credit in the other. Because of this I, a tall growing boy, was placed with the little shavers in the lower forms. This was not only disgraceful, it was deadly dull. After submitting to this humiliation from the summer opening to the Christmas holidays, I gave it up and never was subjected again to the confinement of the desk and the indignity of the ferule.

My next venture in life was equally unfortunate. A cousin, Edward Morris, was a partner in a hardware factory, the firm name being Hollingshead, Morris and Company, and a place was made for me in this enterprise. Of all places in the world, none is harder to fill than a place that is made for one. What is gained by favour is lost by disfavour. I had in this factory nothing in particular to do and did it with great zeal and constancy. I was not one of those story-book boys who go smelling after work as a dog after a cat. I never ran after work, but waited with patience for work to come to me. This did not raise me in the esteem of my employers. When I was a cash boy, I was busy all the day; when I was supposed to be a handy lad of all work, I did little or nothing.

One hot day in August as I was standing idly in the doorway of the factory, watching the traffic of the street, the younger Mr. Hollingshead came along and gave me "down the banks." He told me that I was an idle, goodfor-nothing boy, that I didn't earn my wages, and, without further words, turned on his heel and left. He didn't dare give me my discharge for I was the cousin of his partner and the grandson of Thomas Morris-fatal pedigree.

When I reflected upon the censure that I had received, I could not but admit that it was deserved, and that my situation was intolerable; so without further ado, I took my hat and jacket off the peg and went down to the station, took the first northbound train to Camp Dennison, and enlisted for a soldier in Company B, 79th Ohio Volunteer Infantry. This action liberated my soul. I was no longer in a place that was made for me, but in a place that I had made for myself. I selected this regiment and company because Captain West, its commander, was a friend of the family. It was fortunate for me that the captain was not in the camp that day; had he been, I am quite sure he would have packed me off home with a flea in my ear.

When I thus entered upon my military career, I was in the first quarter of my fourteenth year; was small for my age, and pink and white like a girl. I am still wondering how I passed muster. It was seen at once that I was too young for the line, but what then-could I not enroll as a musician? When the sergeant suggested this, I jumped at it. When I was asked if I would be a drummer boy, I rejected the proposition with scorn. What instrument would I play? I answered proudly, "The bugle," and the bugle it was; and without further ado I was sworn in as a soldier to serve for three years, or during the war.

I made this great adventure in mid-August, in the year 1862, the worst year of the war. Lee and Jackson had driven the Federal army to the banks of the James River,