$100 For $50.
It happened in Boston, the modern Athens, the city of the Puritans; but it might happen in any one of our cities.
Mr. Simple was walking home one evening and two young men were just in front of him.
Suddenly one of the young men bent over and picked something up from the sidewalk—or appeared to do so.
Mr. Simple perceived that the stranger had “found " a hundred-dollar bill, and paused to feast his eyes on the find.
Said the stranger: " Dear me! I have got to get out of town at once, and what good is a hundred-dollar bill to me? I cannot get it broken. I would give this bill now to anyone who would let me have fifty dollars in small bills."
Mr. Simple thought that was a worth-while proposition, and jumped at the chance to make fifty dollars in an instant. He promptly handed over fifty dollars in ones, twos, and fives, and walked proudly off with his hundred dollars.
“It takes me to see a chance and grab it," said Mr. Simple.
Of course when he went to the bank with that hundred-dollar bill he learned that it was counterfeit.
Moral: The way to get something for nothing has not yet been discovered—even in Boston.
Gold in the Valley of Death.
In the island of Mindanao in the Philippines is a famous valley known as the Valley of Death. It is only a few miles wide, but till recently its secrets have been known only to the dead, the daring explorers who have lost their lives there.
Half the valley is the crater of what was once a great volcano, and the floor of the valley still breathes forth poisonous volcanic gases. They hang over the valley in pestilential clouds, and whoever ventures into the fatal region is suffocated by them.
But the valley was said by the natives to contain gold, and what will not man do for the king of metals? A daring American named Rudy, with a comrade, covered their heads with divers' helmets, strapped upon their backs some reservoirs of compressed air, and ventured into the dangerous valley.
No native could be persuaded to accompany them. For months they labored in the valley, carrying up the mountain side sack after sack full of gold-bearing sand and gravel. This they continued till they were almost worn out with the monotonous toil and the fumes, which, in spite of their precautions, they were obliged in part to breathe. Then they left, to come back next year with a larger force and a better equipment.
Gold in the Valley of Death! There was no reason why those two Americans should not earn their living that way, if they chose; but there are many gold-bearing valleys of death into which a man may enter only on peril of his soul. Such are all oppressive combinations of trade, and all occupations that make money at the expense of manhood. Such is the saloon-keeper's business. Such is the gambler's business, whether he uses a pack of cards or the market quotations. Such are many "tricks of the trade" which complacent consciences find it so easy to justify to themselves. Oh, better be a poor man forever than go down into such valleys of death!
Balloon Boys—and Men.
The Washington Heights Hospital of New York City had a strange case. A boy, thirteen years old, was brought to the hospital, an automobile having run over him. Four broken ribs punctured his lungs. He could inhale; but, as he exhaled, the air passed from the lungs into the tissues of the body. This air spread all over his body till he became twice his normal size, his chin touched his chest, and his skin was as tight as a drumhead. He was indeed a balloon boy. Finally the air began to press so severely upon the windpipe that the lad was almost choking, and a surgical operation was found necessary to save his life.
Thus is it ever when we draw in but do not give out. No matter what it is,—air, book-learning, money, praise, power,—constant sucking in with no corresponding outgo is a fatal process. We get "the big head." We swell out in self-conceit. The pressure of our inordinate accretions chokes off our good impulses, our self-sacrifice, our happiness, and finally our spiritual life.
Sometimes an operation is necessary to save us. The Great Surgeon is obliged to use the knife of Poverty, or Failure, or Ignominy, and we are placed on the road to spiritual health again. But how much better it is not to get into such a fix at all!
“Get."
When a certain coal operator was asked, during a legislative investigation, about the probable price of coal, he is reported as saying: "There is no limit. We get what we can. Everybody is doing that, including the farmer." Later in his testimony, when asked if he thought this principle was right, he said that he could not tell, repeating, "I am doing all I can to get what I can."
It is a common phrase regarding prices, "What the business will bear." This means, "All the public can be made to pay."
And the excuse? "Everybody is doing that, including the farmer."
"Get" is the predominant and well-nigh universal trade secret.
He who gets the most for the least and gets it in the quickest time is considered the best tradesman.
Most hoggish, but not "best."
"Get" is the highwayman's motto. If a man is justified in using a monopoly or a trade agreement or a corner or a war necessity to hold up the public and grab unearned dollars, he is justified in doing the same thing with the aid of a mask and a dark lantern and a revolver.
If "everybody is doing it" excuses one villainy it excuses all villainy, for there is no sin that is not at times fashionable.
Some day the folks who pay will rise against the folks who sell, and deal with them as they should be dealt with. They will "get" their deserts then, and add that to all their getting. Let them pray in that day for the mercy which they have scornfully denied to all others.