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Full text of "Heroes of to-day; John Muir, John Burroughs, Wilfred Grenfell, Robert F. Scott, Samuel Pierpont Langley, Edward Trudeau, Bishop Rowe, Jacob A. Riis, Herbert C. Hoover, Rupert Brooke, George W. Goethals"

HEROES 






John Burroughs 
John Muir 



J 



Herbert G.Hoover 



MARY R.PARKMAN 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 




John Muir among his beloved trees 



L HEROES OF TO-DAY 

JOHN MUIR .'. JOHN BURROUGHS .'. WILFRED 

GRENFELL .'. ROBERT F. SCOTT .'. SAMUEL 

PIERPONT LANGLEY .'. EDWARD 

TRUDEAU .'. BISHOP ROWE .'. JACOB A. 

RIIS .'. HERBERT C. HOOVER 

RUPERT BROOKE .'. GEORGE 

W. GOETHALS 



BY 

MAKY R. PARKMAN 

Author of "Heroines of Service," etc. 



ILLUSTRATED WITH 
PHOTOGRAPHS 




NEW YORK 

THE CENTURY CO, 

1917 




Copyright, 1916, 1917, by 
THE CENTUBY Co. 



Published September, 1917 



TO 
MY FATHER 



FOREWORD 

Once, when I had been telling a group of chil- 
dren some stories of the heroes of old, one of 
the number who had always followed the tales 
with breathless interest, said : 

"Tell us the story of a hero of to-day !" 

" There are no heroes to-day, no real heroes, 
are there?" put in another. "Oh, of course I 
know there are great men who do important 
things," he added, "but there isn't any story to 
what they do, is there? anything like the dar- 
ing deeds of the knights and vikings, or of the 
American pioneers?" 

Of course I tried to tell the children that the 
times in which we live bring out as true hero 
stuff as any time gone by. Nay, I grew quite 
eloquent in speaking of the many phases of 
our complex modern life with its many duties, 
its new conscience, its new feeling of individual 
responsibility for the welfare of all. 

Then I told the stories of some of the heroes 
vii 



FOREWORD 

who are fighting "in the patient modern way," 
not against flesh and bood with sword and spear, 
but against the unseen enemies of disease and 
pestilence; against the monster evils of igno- 
rance, poverty and injustice. We decided that 
the "modern viking," Jacob Riis, had a story 
that was as truly adventurous as those of the 
plundering vikings of long ago ; that Dr. Gren- 
f ell, the strong friend of Labrador, had certainly 
proved that life might be a splendid adventure ; 
and that the account of Captain Scott's noble 
conquest of every danger and hardship, and at 
the last of disappointment and defeat itself, was 
indeed an "undying story." Joyously we fol- 
lowed the trail of that splendid hero of the 
heights, John Muir, and of that gentle lover of 
the friendly by-paths of Nature, John Bur- 
roughs, and found that there was no spot in 
woods or fields, among mountains or streams, 
that did not have its wonder tale. The stories 
of those brave souls like Edward Trudeau, the 
good physician of Saranac, and Samuel Pier- 
pont Langley, the inventor of the heavier-than- 
air flying-machine, who struggled undaunted in 
the face of failure for a success that only those 
who should come after them might enjoy, were 

viii 



FOREWORD 

particularly inspiring. From them we turned 
to the heroic figure of the " prophet-engineer," 
General Goethals, who proved that faith and 
perseverance can truly remove mountains ; and 
Herbert C. Hoover, master of mines and of 
men, whose great talent for organization and 
efficient management brought bread to starving 
millions. 

Carlyle has said that "the history of what 
man has accomplished in this world is at bottom 
the History of the Great Men who have worked 
here." When the real history of our day is 
written, will it not be seen that some of its most 
important and significant chapters are those 
which have nothing to do with great cataclysms, 
such as the wars of nation against nation? 
Will it not be seen that the victories of peace 
are not only "no less renowned than war," but 
that they are, in truth, the most enduring? 
These "heroes of to-day" doctor, naturalist, 
explorer, missionary, engineer, inventor, jour- 
nalist, patriot workers for humanity in many 
places and in many ways, are indeed 

"A glorious company, the flower of men, 
To serve as model for the mighty world, 
And be the fair beginning of a time." 
ix 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I THE LAIRD OF SKYLAND : JOHN Mum . . 3 

II THE SEER OP WOODCHUCK LODGE: JOHN 

BURROUGHS 31 

III THE DEEP-SEA DOCTOR: WILFRED GREN- 

FELL 53 

IV THE CAPTAIN OF His SOUL : CAPTAIN SCOTT 81 
V A MODERN VIKING: JACOB Rns . . . 105 

VI A PIONEER OF THE OPEN : EDWARD L. TRU- 

DEAU 133 

VII "THE PROPHET-ENGINEER": GEORGE 

WASHINGTON GOETHALS 163 

VIII A SHEPHERD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY": 

BISHOP ROWE 201 

IX A HERO OF FLIGHT: SAMUEL PIERPONT 

LANGLEY 233 

X A POET-SOLDIER : RUPERT BROOKE . . . 263 

XI A CITIZEN OF THE WORLD: HERBERT C. 

HOOVER . . 295 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

John Muir Among His Beloved Trees . Frontispiece 

John Muir and John Burroughs in the Yosemite 
Valley 25 

Dr. Wilfred T. Grenfell 55 

The Hospital at St. Anthony, Northern New- 
foundland 66 

Captain Robert F. Scott 87 

Jacob A. Riis 110 

The Jacob A. Riis Settlement 119 

Edward L. Trudeau 146 

First Sanitarium Cottage Built 155 

Major Goethals 178 

The "Man of Panama" at Panama . . . .195 

Bishop Peter T. Rowe 213 

Samuel P. Langley 248 

Rupert Brooke 274 

Herbert C. Hoover 300 

The Belgian Children's Christmas Card . . .317 



THE LAIRD OF SKYLAND: 
JOHN MUIR 



Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. 

Nature's peace will flow into you 

As sunshine into trees; 

The winds will blow their freshness into you, 

And the storms their energy ; 

While cares will drop off like autumn leaves. 

JOHN Mum. 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

THE LAIRD OF SKYLAND 

A SMALL Scotch laddie was scrambling 
about on the storm-swept, craggy ruins of 
Dunbar Castle. He was not thinking of the 
thousand years that had passed over the grim 
fortress, or of the brave deeds, celebrated in 
legend and ballad, that its stones had witnessed. 
He was glorying in his own strength and daring 
that had won for him a foothold on the highest 
of the crumbling peaks, where he could watch 
the waves dash in spray, and where, with out- 
flung arms and face aglow with exultation, he 
felt himself a part of the scene. Sea, sky, rocks, 
and wild, boy heart seemed mingled together as 
one. 

Little John Muir loved everything that was 
wild. The warnings and "skelpings" of his 
strict father could not keep him within the safe 

3 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

confines of the home garden. The true world 
was beyond the salt meadows, with nests of 
skylarks and field-mice, the rocky pools along 
the shore where one might find crabs, eels, and 
all sorts of interesting scaly creatures. But 
above all, there were the rocky heights where 
one might climb. 

Sometimes the truant was sent to bed without 
his supper. But even then he made opportuni- 
ties for climbing feats. In company with his 
little brother David, John played games of 
"scootchers" (dares) in which the boys crept 
out of their dormer-windows and found con- 
genial mountaineering exercise on the slate 
roof, sometimes hanging from the eaves by one 
hand, or even for an instant by a single 
finger. 

It was only on Saturdays and during vaca- 
tions, however, that these lads could taste the 
delights of roving. Johnnie Muir 's school-days 
began when he was not quite three years old. 
Can you picture the sturdy infant trudging 
along, with the sea- wind blowing out behind him 
like a flag the little green bag that his mother 
had hung around his neck to hold his first book? 

4 



JOHN MUIK, 

This infant had already learned his letters, how- 
ever, from the shop signs, and it was not long 
before he passed the first mile-stone and spelled 
his way into the second book. When eight 
years old, John entered the grammar-school. 
Here he studied Latin and French, besides Eng- 
lish, history, geography, and arithmetic. In re- 
gard to the methods employed, this doughty 
Scotchman used to say, with a twinkle: "We 
were simply driven pointblank against our books 
like a soldier against the enemy, and sternly or- 
dered: 'Up and at 'em! Commit your lessons 
to memory ! ' If we failed in any part, however 
slight, we were whipped, for the grand, simple, 
Scotch discovery had been made that there was 
a close connection between the skin and the 
memory, and that irritating the skin excited the 
memory to any required degree.'* 

From the school playground the boys loved 
to watch the ships at sea and guess where they 
were bound. In stormy weather, that brought 
the salt spume from the waves over the wall, 
they often saw the brave vessels tossed against 
the rocky shore. Many of John's school-books 
showed ships at full sail on the margins, par- 

5 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

ticularly the one that stirred his imagination 
most the reader which told about the forests of 
America, with their wonderful birds and sugar- 
maple trees. 

One evening, when John and David were loy- 
ally trying to forget dreams of voyages to magic 
lands where brave adventure awaited one at 
every turn, and master their lessons for the next 
day, their father came into the room with won- 
derful news. 

"Bairns," he said, "you need na learn your 
lessons the nicht, for we 're gaen to America the 
morn!" 

How the words sang in their hearts ! ' ' Amer- 
ica the morn!" Instead of grammar, a land 
where sugar-trees grew in ground full of gold ; 
with forests where myriads of eagles, hawks, 
and pigeons circled about millions of birds' 
nests; where deer hid in every thicket; and 
where there was never a gamekeeper to deny a 
lad the freedom of the woods ! 

Only their grandfather looked troubled, and 
said in a voice that trembled more than usual: 
"Ah, puir laddies! Ye '11 find something else 
ower the sea forby gold and birds' nests and 

6 



JOHN MUIB 

freedom frae lessons. Ye '11 find plenty of 
hard, hard work." 

But nothing could cast a shadow on their joy. 
"I'm gaen to Amaraka the morn!" they 
shouted to their envying, doubting schoolmates. 

It took six weeks and a half for the old-fash- 
ioned sailing-vessel to cross the Atlantic. The 
father had taken three of the children, John, 
David, and Sarah, to help him make a home in 
the wilderness for the rest of the family. The 
spot selected was near Kingston, Wisconsin, 
then settled only by a few scattered, hardy pion- 
eers. Here, with the help of their nearest 
neighbors, they built in a day a cabin of rough, 
bur-oak logs. 

This hut was in the midst of the woods which 
fringed a flowery meadow and a lake where 
pond-lilies grew. The boys had not been at 
home an hour before they discovered a blue- 
jay's nest with three green eggs, and a wood- 
pecker's hole, and began to make acquaint ince 
with the darting, gliding creatures of springs 
and lake. 

"Here," said John Muir, "without knowing 
it, we were still at school; every wild lesson a 

7 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

love lesson, not whipped but charmed into us." 
Soon farm life began in earnest. Fields were 
cleared and plowed ; a frame house was built on 
the hill; and the mother with the younger chil- 
dren came to join these pioneers. It would 
seem that the long days of unceasing toil 
planting, hoeing, harvesting, splitting rails, and 
digging wells that retarded the growth of the 
active lad would have completely quenched the 
flickerings of his wild, eager spirit. But he 
managed to absorb, in the most astonishing way, 
the lore of woods and fields and streams, until 
the ways of birds, insects, fishes, and wild plant- 
neighbors were as an open book to him. 

It was not long before his alert mind began 
to hunger for a real knowledge of the books 
which in his childish days he had studied with- 
out understanding. He read not only the small 
collection of religious books that his father had 
brought with him from Scotland, but also every 
stray volume that he could borrow from a neigh- 
bor. 

When John was fifteen, he discovered that the 
poetry in the Bible, in Shakespeare, and in Mil- 
ton could give something of the same keen joy 

8 



JOHN MUIB 

that a Sunday evening on a hilltop made him 
feel, when sunset and rising moon and the 
hushed voices of twilight were all mingled in one 
thrilling delight. All beauty was one, he found. 

The noble lines echoed in his memory as he 
cradled the wheat and raked the hay. The pre- 
cious opportunities for reading were stolen five 
minutes at a time when he lingered in the 
kitchen with book and candle after the others 
had gone to bed. Night after night his father 
would call with exasperated emphasis : " John, 
do you expect me to call you every night I You 
must go to bed when the rest do." 

One night as he descended on the boy with 
more than usual sternness his anger was some- 
what disarmed when he noticed that the book in 
question was a Church history. "If you will 
read," he added, "get up in the morning. You 
may get up as early as you like. ' ' 

That night John went to bed wondering how 
he was going to wake himself in order to profit 
by this precious permission. Though his was 
the sound sleep of a healthy boy who had been 
splitting rails in the snowy woods, he sprang 
out of bed as if roused by a mysterious reveille 

9 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

long before daylight, and, holding his candle to 
the kitchen clock, saw that it was only one 
o'clock. 

' ' Five hours to myself ! " he cried exultingly. 
"It is like finding a day a day for my very 
own!" 

Realizing that his enthusiasm could not suf- 
fice to keep him warm in the zero weather, and 
that his father would certainly object to his 
making a fire, he went down cellar, and, by the 
light of a tallow dip, began work on the model 
of a self-setting sawmill that he had invented. 

"I don't think that I was any the worse for 
my short ration of sleep and the extra work in 
the cold and the uncertain light," he said; "I 
was far more than happy. Like Tarn o ' Shan- 
ter I was glorious ' 'er all the ills of life vic- 
torious." 

When his sawmill was tested in a stream that 
he had dammed up in the meadow, he set him- 
self to construct a clock that might have an at- 
tachment connected with his bed to get him up 
at a certain hour in the morning. He knew 
nothing of the mechanism of timepieces beyond 
the laws of the pendulum, but he succeeded in 

10 



JOHN MUIR 

making a clock of wood, whittling the small 
pieces in the moments of respite from farm- 
work. At length the "early-rising machine" 
was complete and put in operation to his satis- 
faction. There was now no chance that the 
weary flesh would betray him into passing a 
precious half-hour of his time of freedom in 
sleep. 

"John," said his father, who had but two 
absorbing interests, his stern religion and his 
thriving acres, "John, what time is it when you 
get up in the morning?" 

"About one o'clock," replied the boy, trem- 
blingly. 

"What time is that to be stirring about and 
disturbing the whole family?" 

"You told me, Father " began John. 

"I know I gave you that miserable permis- 
sion," said the man with a groan, "but I never 
dreamed that you would get up in the middle of 
the night." 

The boy wisely said nothing, and the blessed 
time for study and experimentation was not 
taken away. 

Even his father seemed to take pride in the 
11 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

hickory clock that he next constructed. It was 
in the form of a scythe to symbolize Time, the 
pendulum being a bunch of arrows to suggest 
the flight of the minutes. A thermometer and 
barometer were next evolved, and automatic 
contrivances to light the fire and to feed the 
horses at a given time. 

One day a friendly neighbor, who recognized 
that the boy was a real mechanical genius, ad- 
vised him to take his whittled inventions to the 
State Fair at Madison. There two of his 
wooden clocks and the thermometer were given 
a place of honor in the Fine Arts Hall, where 
they attracted much attention. It was gener- 
ally agreed that this farm-boy from the back- 
woods had a bright future. 

A student from the university persuaded the 
young inventor that he might be able to work his 
way through college. Presenting himself to the 
dean in accordance with this friendly advice, 
young Muir told his story, explaining that ex- 
cept for a two-month term in the country he had 
not been to school since he had left Scotland in 
his twelfth year. He was received kindly, 
given a trial in the preparatory department, 

12 



JOHN MUIB 

and after a few weeks transferred to the fresh- 
man class. 

During the four years of his college life John 
Muir made his way by teaching school a part of 
each winter and doing farm-work summers. 
He sometimes cut down the expense of board to 
fifty cents a week by living on potatoes and 
mush, which he cooked for himself at the dormi- 
tory furnace. Pat, the janitor, would do any- 
thing for this young man who could make such 
wonderful things. Years afterward he pointed 
out his room to visitors and tried to describe the 
wonders it had contained. It had, indeed, 
looked like a branch of the college museum, 
with its numerous botanical and geological 
specimens and curious mechanical contriv- 
ances. 

Although he spent four years at the State 
University, he did not take the regular course, 
but devoted himself chiefly to chemistry, 
physics, botany, and geology, which, he thought, 
would be most useful to him. Then, without 
graduating, he started out "on a glorious bo- 
tanical and geological excursion which has 
lasted," he said, in concluding the story of his 

13 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

early life, "for fifty years and is not yet com- 
pleted." 

He journeyed afoot to Florida, sleeping on 
the ground wherever night found him. * ' I wish 
I knew where I was going," he wrote to a friend 
who asked about his plans. "Only I know that 
I seem doomed to be ' carried of the spirit into 
the wilderness.' 

Because he loved the whole fair earth and 
longed to know something of the story that its 
rocks and trees might tell, he wandered on and 
on. After going to Cuba, a siege of tropical 
fever, contracted by sleeping on swampy 
ground, caused him to give up for a time a cher- 
ished plan to make the acquaintance of the vege- 
tation along the Amazon. 

"Fate and flowers took me to California," he 
said. He found there his true Florida (Land 
of Flowers), and he found, also, what became 
the passion of his life and his life work the 
noble mountains, the great trees, and the mar- 
velous Yosemite. Here he lived year after year, 
climbing the mountains, descending into the 
canons, lovingly, patiently working to decipher 
the story of the rocks, and to make the wonder 

14 



JOHN MUIR 

and beauty which thrilled his soul a heritage for 
mankind forever. 

He lived for months at a time in the Yosemite 
Valley, whose marvels he knew in every mood 
of sunshine, moonlight, dawn, sunset, storm, 
and winter whiteness of frost and snow. He 
would wander for days on the heights without 
gun or any provisions except bread, tea, a tin 
cup, pocket-knife, and short-handled ax. 

Once, on reading a magazine article by an en- 
thusiastic* young mountain-climber, who dilated 
upon his thrilling adventures in scaling Mount 
Tyndall, Mr. Muir commented dryly: "He 
must have given himself a lot of trouble. When 
I climbed Tyndall, I ran up and back before 
breakfast." 

At a time when trails were few and hard to 
find, he explored the Sierra, which, he said, 
should be called, not the Nevada, or Snowy 
Range, but the Range of Light. When night 
came, he selected the lee side of a log, made a 
fire, and went to sleep on a bed of pine-needles. 
If it was snowing, he made a bigger fire and lay 
closer to his log shelter. 

4 'Outdoors is the natural place for man," he 
15 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

said. "I begin to cough and wheeze the minute 
I get within walls. " 

Never at a loss to make his way in the wilder- 
ness, he was completely bewildered in the midst 
of city streets. 

"What is the nearest way out of town?'* he 
asked 'of a man in the business section of San 
Francisco soon after he landed at the Golden 
Gate in 1868. 

"But I don't know where you want to go!" 
protested the surprised pedestrian. 

"To any place that is wild," he replied. 

So began the days of his wandering in path- 
less places among higher rocks * ' than the world 
and his ribbony wife could reach. " " Climb the 
mountains, climb, if you would reach beauty," 
said John Muir, the wild, eager spirit of the lad 
who had braved scoldings and "skelpings" to 
climb the craggy peaks of Dunbar shining in his 
eyes. 

When his friends remonstrated with him be- 
cause of the way he apparently courted danger, 
he replied: "A true mountaineer is never 
reckless. He knows, or senses with a sure in- 
stinct, what he can do. In a moment of real 

16 



JOHN MUnt 

danger his whole body is eye, and common skill 
and fortitude are replaced by power beyond 
our call or knowledge. ' ' 

It was not entirely the passion for beauty that 
took this lover of the sublime aspects of nature 
up among the mountains and glaciers "up 
where God is making the world." It was also 
the passion for knowledge the longing to know 
something of the tools the Divine Sculptor had 
used in carving the giant peaks and mighty 
canons. 

"The marvels of Yosemite are the end of the 
story," he said. "The alphabet is to be found 
in the crags and valleys of the summits." 

Here he wandered about, comparing canon 
with canon, following lines of cleavage, and 
finding the key to every precipice and sloping 
wall in the blurred marks of the glaciers on the 
eternal rocks. Every boulder found a tongue; 
"in every pebble he could hear the sound of 
running water. " The tools that had carved the 
beauties of Yosemite were not, he concluded, 
those of the hidden fires of the earth, the rend- 
ing of earthquake and volcanic eruption, but the 
slow, patient cleaving and breaking by mighty 

17 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

glaciers, during the eons when the earth's sur- 
face was given over to the powers of cold the 
period known as the Ice Age. 

"There are no accidents in nature," he said. 
"The flowers blossom in obedience to the same 
law that keeps the stars in their places. Each 
bird-song is an echo of the universal harmony. 
Nature is one. ' ' 

Because he believed that Nature reveals 
many of her innermost secrets in times of 
storm, he often braved the wildest tempests on 
the heights. He spoke with keen delight of the 
times when he had been "magnificently snow- 
bound in the Lord's Mountain House." He 
even dared to climb into the very heart of a 
snow-cloud as it rested on Pilot Peak, and it 
seemed that the experience touched the very 
springs of poetry in the soul of this nature- 
lover. He found that he had won in a moment 
"a harvest of crystal flowers, and wind-songs 
gathered from spiry firs and long, fringy arms 
of pines." 

Once in a terrible gale he climbed to the top 
of a swaying pine in order to feel the power of 
the wind as a tree feels it. His love for the 

18 



JOHN MUIR 

trees was second only to his love for the moun- 
tains. His indignation at the heedless destruc- 
tion of the majestic Sequoias knew no bounds. 
" Through thousands and thousands of years 
God has cared for these trees," he said: "He 
has saved them from drought, disease, ava- 
lanches, and a thousand straining and leveling 
tempests and floods, but He cannot save them 
from foolish men." 

It was due mainly to his untiring efforts that 
the "big trees" of California, as well as the 
wonderful Yosemite Valley, were taken under 
the protection of the Nation to be preserved for 
all the people for all time. 

He discovered the petrified forests of Ari- 
zona, and went to Chile to see trees of the same 
species which are no longer to be found any- 
where in North America. He traveled to Aus- 
tralia to see the eucalyptus groves, to Siberia 
for its pines, and to India to see the banyan- 
trees. When asked why he had not stopped at 
Hong Kong when almost next door to that in- 
teresting city, he replied, "There are no trees 
in Hong Kong." 

In order to make a livelihood that would per- 
19 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

mit him to continue his studies of nature in the 
mountains, Mr. Muir built a sawmill where he 
prepared for the use of man those trees "that 
the Lord had felled. ' ' Here during the week he 
jotted down his observations or sketched, while 
he watched out of the tail of his eye to see when 
the great logs were nearing the end of their 
course. Then he would pause in his writing or 
sketching just long enough to start a new log on 
its way. 

Sometimes he undertook the work of a shep- 
herd, and, while his "mutton family of 1800 
ranged over ten square miles," he found time 
for reading and botanizing. 

A very little money sufficed for his simple 
needs. Indeed, Mr. Muir once declared that he 
could live on fifty dollars a year. 

"Eat bread in the mountains," he said, "with 
love and adoration in your soul, and you can 
get a nourishment that food experts have no 
conception of." 

He spoke with pitying scorn of the money- 
clinking crowd who were too "time-poor" to en- 
joy the keenest delights that earth can offer. 

"You millionaires carry too heavy blankets 
20 



JOHN MUIR 

to get any comfort out of the march through 
life," he said; "you don't know what it is you 
are losing by the way. ' ' 

When there was a home and "bairnies" to 
provide for, he managed a fruit-ranch; but he 
was often absent in his beloved mountains 
weeks at a time, living on bread, tea, and the 
huckleberries of cool, glacial bogs, which were 
more to his taste than the cherries or grapes 
that he had to return in time to harvest. 

Mr. S. Hall Young, in his interesting narra- 
tive "Alaska Days with John Muir," gives a 
graphic account of the way John o* Mountains 
climbed : 

Then Muir began to slide up that mountain. I had been 
with mountain-climbers before, but never one like him. A 
deer-lope over the smoother slopes, a sure instinct for the 
easiest way into a rocky fortress, an instant and unerring 
attack, a serpent glide up the steep; eye, hand, and foot all 
connected dynamically; with no appearance of weight to 
his body as though he had Stockton's negative-gravity 
machine strapped on his back. 

In all his mountain-climbing in the Sierras, 
the Andes, and the high Himalayas, he never 
knew what it was to be dizzy, even when stand- 
ing on the sheerest precipice, or crossing a 

21 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

crevasse on a sliver of ice above an abyss of 
four thousand feet. He said that his simple 
laws of health gave him his endurance and his 
steady nerves; but when we think of the wee 
laddie in Scotland, hanging from the roof by 
one finger, or balancing himself on a particu- 
larly sharp crag of the black headland at Dun- 
bar, we believe that he was born to climb. 

"I love the heights," he said, "where the air 
is sweet enough for the breath of angels, and 
where I can feel miles and miles of beauty flow- 
ing into me." 

He never ceased to marvel at the people who 
remained untouched in the presence of Nature 's 
rarest loveliness. "They have eyes and see 
not," he mourned, as he saw some sleek, com- 
fortable tourists pausing a moment in their con- 
cern about baggage to point casually with their 
canes to the Upper Yosemite Falls, coming with 
its glorious company of shimmering comets out 
of a rainbow cloud along the top of the cliff, and 
passing into another cloud of glory below. 

All of Mr. Muir's books "The Mountains of 
California," "Our National Parks," "My First 
Summer in the Sierra," and "The Yosemite" 

22 



JOHN MUIR 

are splendid invitations to " climb the moun- 
tains and get their good tidings." " Climb, if 
you would see beauty!" every page cries out. 
"If I can give you a longing that will take you 
out of your rocking-chairs and make you willing 
to forego a few of your so-called comforts for 
something infinitely more worth while, I shall 
have fulfilled my mission." 

Bead his story of his ride on the avalanche 
from a ridge three thousand feet high, where 
he had climbed to see the valley in its garment 
of newly-fallen snow. The ascent took him 
nearly all day, the descent about a minute. 
When he felt himself going, he instinctively 
threw himself on his back, spread out his arms 
to keep from sinking, and found his "flight in 
the milky way of snow-stars the most spiritual 
and exhilarating of all modes of motion." 

In "The Yosemite," also, we learn how a true 
nature-lover can meet the terrors of an earth- 
quake. He was awakened at about two o'clock 
one moonlit morning by a "strange, thrilling 
motion," and exalted by the certainty that he 
was going to find the old planet off guard and 
learn something of her true nature, he rushed 

23 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

out while the ground was rocking so that he had 
to balance himself as one does on shipboard dur- 
ing a heavy sea. He saw Eagle Rock fall in a 
thousand boulder-fragments, while all the thun- 
der he had ever heard was condensed in the roar 
of that moment when it seemed that ' ' the whole 
earth was, like a living creature, calling to its 
sister planets." 

"Come, cheer up!" he cried to a panic- 
stricken man who felt that the ground was about 
to swallow him up; "smile and clap your hands 
now that kind Mother Earth is trotting us on 
her knee to amuse us and make us good." 

He studied the earthquake as he studied the 
glaciers, the scarred cliffs, and the flowers, and 
this is the lesson that it taught him : 

All Nature's wildness tells the same story : the shocks and 
outbursts of earthquakes, volcanoes, geysers, roaring waves, 
and floods, the silent uprush of sap in plants, storms of 
every sort each and all, are the orderly, beauty-making 
love-beats of Nature's heart. 

Read about his adventure in a storm on the 
Alaska glacier with the little dog, Stickeen. 
You will note that he had eyes not only for the 
ice-cliffs towering above the dark forest and 

24 




John Muir and John Burroughs in the Yoseinito 
Valley 



JOHN MUIR 

for the mighty glacier with its rushing white 
fountains, but also for the poor "beastie" who 
was leaving blood-prints on the ice when the 
man stopped to make him moccasins out of his 
handkerchief. As you read you will not won- 
der that this man who could write about Na- 
ture 's loftiest moods could also write that most 
beautiful and truly sympathetic of all stories of 
dog life. 

The last years of John Muir's long career 
were, like the rest, part of * ' the glorious botani- 
cal and geological excursion," on which he set 
out when he left college. The names that he 
won "John o* Mountains,'* "The Psalmist of 
the Sierra, " ' The Father of the Yosemite ' 'all 
speak of his work. Remembering that he found 
his fullest joy in climbing to the topmost peaks, 
we have called him "The Laird of Sky land." 
Going to the mountains was going home, he said. 

The Muir Woods of "big trees" near San 
Francisco and Muir Glacier in Alaska are fit- 
ting monuments to his name and fame. But the 
real man needs no memorial. For when we visit 
the glorious Yosemite, which his untiring ef- 
forts won for us and which his boundless en- 

27 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

thusiasm taught us rightly to appreciate, we 
somehow feel that the spirit of John Muir is 
still there, in the beauty that he loved, bidding 
us welcome and giving us joy in the freedom of 
the heights. 



28 



THE SEER OF WOODCHUCK LODGE: 
JOHN BURROUGHS 



In every man's life we may read some lesson. What 
may be read in mine? If I see myself correctly, it is this: 
that the essential things are always at hand ; that one's own 
door opens upon the wealth of heaven and earth; and that 
all things are ready to serve and cheer one. Life is a strug- 
gle, but not a warfare; it is a day's labor, but labor on 
God's earth, under the sun and stars with other laborers, 
where we may think and sing and rejoice as we work. 

JOHN BURROUGHS. 



THE SEER OF WOODCHUCK LODGE 

SOME farm-boys were having a happy Sun- 
day in the woods gathering black birch and 
wintergreens. As they lay on the cool moss, 
lazily tasting the spicy morsels they had found 
and gazing up at the patches of blue sky through 
the beeches, one of the boys caught sight of a 
small, bluish bird, with an odd white spot on 
its wing, as it flashed through the trembling 
leaves. In a moment it was gone, but the boy 
was on his feet, looking after it with eyes that 
had opened on a new world. 

So "Deacon Woods, " the old familiar play- 
ground that he thought he knew so well, where 
blue-jays, woodpeckers, and yellow-birds were 
every-day companions, contained wonders of 
which he had never dreamed. The older broth- 
ers knew nothing and cared nothing about the 
unknown bird. What difference did it make, 
anyway? But the little lad of seven who fol- 
lowed its flight with startled, wondering eyes 

31 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

seemed to have been born again. His eyes were 
opened to many things that had not existed for 
him before. 

Do you remember the story of the monk of 
long ago who, while copying in his cell a page 
from the Holy Book, chanced to ponder on the 
words that tell us that a thousand years in God's 
sight are but as a day? As the monk wondered 
and doubted how such a thing might be, he heard 
through his window the song of a strange, beau- 
tiful bird, and followed it through the garden 
into the woods beyond. Wandering on and 
listening, with every sense alive to the delights 
about him, it seemed that he had spent the hap- 
piest hour he had ever known. But when he 
returned to his monastery, he found himself a 
stranger in a place that had long forgotten him. 
He had been wandering for a hundred years in 
the magic wood, listening to the song of the 
wonderful bird. 

In somewhat the same way John Burroughs 
followed where the gleam of the little bluish 
warbler led him through woods and fields for 
more than seventy years. That is why Time 
missed him out of the great reckoning. One 

32 



JOHN BURROUGHS 

who listens to the song of life knows nothing 
of age or change. So it is that the boy John 
never slipped away from Burroughs, the man. 
So it is that the Seer of Woodchuck Lodge is 
eighty years young. 

Do you know what it means to be a seer? A 
seer is one who has seeing eyes which clearly 
note and comprehend what most people pass a 
hundred times nor care to see. He looks, too, 
through the outer shell or appearance of things, 
and learns to read something of their hidden 
meaning. He has sight, then, and also insight. 
He looks with his physical eyes and also with 
the eyes of the mind and spirit. 

We always think of a seer as an old man, but 
little John Burroughs John o' Birds, as some 
one has called him began to be ' ' an eye among 
the blind" that Sunday in the woods when he 
was a lad of seven. He led a new, charmed life 
as he weeded the garden and later plowed the 
fields. He saw and heard life thrilling about 
him on every side, and all that he saw became 
part of his own life. He drank in the joy of the 
bobolink and the song-sparrow with the air he 
breathed, as the warm sunshine and good, earth 

33 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

smell of the freshly turned furrow entered at 
every pore. 

Another day almost as memorable as that 
which brought the flash of the strange bird was 
the one which gave him a glimpse into the un- 
explored realm of ideas. A lady visiting at the 
farm-house noticed a boyish drawing of his, and 
said, " What taste that boy has !" Taste, then, 
might belong to something besides the food that 
one took into one 's mouth. It seemed that there 
were new worlds of words and thoughts of 
which his farmer folk little dreamed. 

Again, one day when watching some road- 
makers down by the school-house turn up some 
flat stones, he heard a man standing by exclaim, 
"Ah, here we have, perhaps, some antiquities !" 
Antiquities! How the word rang in his fancy 
for days ! Oh, the magic lure of the world of 
words ! 

It seemed that school and books might give 
him the freedom of that world. He went to the 
district school at Boxbury, New York, summers 
until he was ten, when his help was needed on 
the farm. After that, he was permitted to go 
only during the winters. In many ways he was 

34 



JOHN BURROUGHS 

the odd one of the family, and his unaccountable 
interest in things that could never profit a 
farmer often tried the patience of his hard-work- 
ing father. 

One day the boy asked for money to buy an 
algebra. What was an algebra, anyway, and 
why should this queer lad be demanding things 
that his father and brothers had never had! 
John got the algebra, and other precious books 
beside, but he earned the money himself by sell- 
ing maple sugar. He knew when April had 
stirred the sap in the sugar-bush a week or more 
before any one else came to tap the trees, and 
his early harvest always found a good market. 

And what a joyous time April was! "I 
think April is the best month to be born in," said 
John Burroughs. "One is just in time, so to 
speak, to catch the first train, which is made up 
in this month. My April chickens are always 
the best. . . . Then are heard the voices of 
April arriving birds, the elfin horn of the first 
honey-bee venturing abroad in the middle of the 
day, the clear piping of the little frogs in the 
marshes at sun-down, the camp-fire in the sugar- 
bush, the smoke seen afar rising from the trees, 

35 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

the tinge of green that comes so suddenly on 
the sunny slopes. April is my natal month, and 
I am born again into new delight and new sur- 
prises at each return of it. Its name has an 
indescribable charm to me. Its two syllables 
are like the calls of the first birds like that of 
the phoebe-bird or of the meadow-lark." 

The keen joy in the feel of the creative sun- 
light and springing earth the eager tasting of 
every sight and sound and scent that the days 
brought were not more a part of his own throb- 
bing life than the desire to know and understand. 
When he was fifteen he had the promise that 
he might go to the academy in a neighboring 
town. That fall, as he plowed the lot next the 
sugar-bush, each furrow seemed to mark a step 
on the way. 

When the time drew near, however, it proved 
as strange and unusual a desire as that for the 
algebra. The district school had been good 
enough for his brothers. So he put his disap- 
pointment behind him as he went for another 
winter to the Roxbury school. "Yet I am not 
sure but I went to Harpersfield after all," said 
Mr. Burroughs; "the long, long thoughts, the 

36 



JOHN BURROUGHS 

earnest resolve to make myself worthy, the 
awakening of every part and fiber of me, helped 
me on my way as far, perhaps, as the unattain- 
able academy could have done. ' ' 

The next year found the youth of seventeen 
teaching a country school for eleven dollars a 
month and ' ' board around. ' ' How homesick he 
felt for the blue hills at home, for the old barn, 
with the nests of the swallows and phoebe-birds 
beneath its roof, for the sugar-bush, and the 
clear, laughing trout-streams. He could see his 
mother hurrying through her churning so that 
she might go berrying on the sunny slope of Old 
Clump, and he knew what she brought back with 
the strawberries dewy dreams of daisies and 
buttercups, lilting echoes of bobolinks and 
meadow-larks. 

In October the long term was over and he 
went home with nearly all his earnings, over 
fifty dollars, enough to pay his way at the 
Hedding Literary Institute for the winter term. 

In the spring of 1855 he went to New York 
City for the first time, hoping to find a position 
as teacher. He was not successful in this quest, 
but the trip was memorable for a raid on the 

37 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

second-hand book-stalls. He reached home 
some days later "with an empty pocket and an 
empty stomach, but with a bagful of books." 

Always attracted chiefly to essays, the works 
of Emerson influenced him greatly. He ab- 
sorbed their spirit as naturally and completely 
as he had absorbed the sights and sounds of his 
native hill-country. His first article an essay 
called "Expression," which was printed with- 
out signature in The Atlantic Monthly was 
by many attributed to Emerson. Lowell, who 
was at that time editor of The Atlantic, told, 
with much amusement, that before accepting the 
contribution he had looked through all of Emer- 
son's works expecting to find it and confound 
this plagiarizing Burroughs with a proof of his 
rascality. 

While teaching school near West Point he 
one day found, in the library of the Military 
Academy, a volume of Audubon and entered 
upon his kingdom. Here was a complete chart 
of that bird world which he had never ceased 
to long to explore since that memorable day 
when he had seen the little blue warbler. There 
was time, too, for long walks, time to live with 

38 



JOHN BURROUGHS 

the birds to revive old ties as well as to make 
new friends. 

In speaking of his study of the birds, Mr. 
Burroughs once said: 

''What joy the birds have brought me ! How 
they have given me wings to escape the tedious 
and deadly. Studied the birds! No, I have 
played with them, camped with them, summered 
and wintered with them. My knowledge of them 
has come to me through the pores of my skin, 
through the air I have breathed, through the 
soles of my feet, through the twinkle of the 
leaves and the glint of the waters." 

At once he felt a longing to write something of 
the joy he was gaining through this comrade- 
ship with his feathered friends. There was 
nothing that spoke of Emerson or any other 
model in his pages now. He had found his own 
path. He was following the little blue bird into 
a world of his own. 

A chance came to go to Washington to live. 
For several years, while working as a clerk in 
the Treasury, he spent all his spare moments 
with the birds. He knew what nests were to 
be found near Rock Creek and along Piney 

39 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

Branch. It seemed that he heard the news as 
soon as a flock of northbound songsters stopped 
to rest for a day or two in the Capitol grounds. 
While watching a vault where great piles of 
the Nation's gold lay stored, he lived over in 
memory the golden days of his boyhood spent in 
climbing trees, tramping over hills, and through 
grassy hollows, or lying with half-shut eyes by 
the brookside to learn something of the life- 
story of the birds. There were leisure after- 
noons which brought no duty save that of sit- 
ting watchful before the iron wall of the vault. 
At such times he often tried to seize some of the 
happy bits that memory brought, a twig here, a 
tuft there, and now a long, trailing strand 
stray scraps of observation of many sorts 
which he wove together into a nest for his brood- 
ing fancy. And we, too, as we read those pages 
hear the "wandering voice" of the little bird 
of earth and sky, who wears the warm brown 
of one on his breast and the blue of the other 
on his wings ; we see the dauntless robin a-tilt 
on the sugar-bush; we catch the golden melody 
of the wood- thrush and "the time of singing 
birds" has come to our hearts. He has not only 

40 



JOHN BURROUGHS 

seeing eyes, but an understanding heart, this 
seer and lover of the birds, and so his bits of 
observation have meaning and value. He 
called the book in which these various bird- 
papers were gathered together * ' Wake Robin, ' ' 
the name of a wild-flower that makes its ap- 
pearance at the time of the return of the birds. 

This book was well named, not only because 
it suggested something of the spirit and feeling 
of the essays, but also because it was the herald 
of several other delightful volumes such as 
"Signs and Seasons, " "Winter Sunshine," 
"Birds and Poets." 

Do you remember how Emerson says in his 
poem "Each and All" 

I thought the sparrow's note from Heaven, 
Singing at dawn on the alder bough; 

I brought him home in his nest at even; 
He sings the song, but it cheers not now, 

For I did not bring home the river and sky; 

He sang to my ear, they sang to my eye. 

When John Burroughs writes about the birds, 
he brings with their life and song the feeling of 
the "perfect whole" the open fields, the wind- 
ing river, the bending sky, and the cool, fra- 
grant woods. For he always gives, with the 

41 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

glimpses of nature that lie culls, something of 
himself, something of his own clear-seeing, 
open-hearted appreciation. 

The ten years spent in Washington were 
memorable not only for his first success as a 
nature writer, but also for the experiences 
brought through the Civil War and his friend- 
ship with the "good gray poet," Walt Whit- 
man. Years after, Mr. Burroughs said that his 
not having gone into the army was probably 
the greatest miss of his life. He went close 
enough to the firing-line on one occasion to 
hear "the ping of a rifle-bullet overhead, and 
the thud it makes when it strikes the ground. ' ' 
Surely there should be enough of the spirit of 
his grandfather, who was one of Washington's 
Valley Forge veterans, to make a soldier ! How 
well he remembered the old Continental's thrill- 
ing tales as they angled for trout side by side, 
graybeard and eager urchin of nine! How 
well he remembered the hair-raising stories of 
witches and ghosts that made many shadowy 
spots spook-ridden. He had learned to stand 
his ground in the woods at nightfall, and at the 
edge of the big black hole under the barn, and 

42 



JOHN BURROUGHS 

so to put to flight the specters before and the 
phantoms behind. But when, that night on the 
battle-field, he saw a company of blue-coated 
men hurrying toward a line of rifle-flashes that 
shone luridly against the horizon, he concluded 
that his grandfather had "emptied the family 
powder-horn" in those Revolutionary days, and 
that there was no real soldier stuff in the grand- 
son. 

If his failure to enlist in the army was the 
greatest miss of his life, his friendship with 
Whitman was its greatest gain. They took to 
the open road together, the best of boon com- 
panions, and Burroughs came to know the poet 
as he knew the birds. His essay "The Flight 
of the Eagle," is one of the most spirited and 
heartfelt tributes that one great man ever paid 
another. 

One should, however, hear Mr. Burroughs 
talk about the poet and watch his kindling en- 
thusiasm. He had been teaching us how to 
roast shad under the ashes of our camp-fire one 
day when a chance remark put him in a remi- 
niscent mood. We all felt that evening as if we 
had come in actual touch with the poet. 

43 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

"You see," our host concluded, "Whitman 
was himself his own best poem a man, take 
him all in all. Do you remember how George 
Eliot said of Emerson, 'He is the first man I 
have ever met'? Many people felt that way 
about Whitman." 

As I looked at Whitman's friend I found my- 
self thinking, "Surely here is a man, take him 
all in all a man in whom the child's heart, the 
youth's vision, the poet's enthusiasm, the scien- 
tist's faithfulness, and the thinker's insight, are 
all wonderfully blended." 

After the years in Washington, his work as a 
bank examiner made Mr. Burroughs seek a 
place for his home near New York City. The 
spot selected was a small farm on the Hudson, 
not far from Poughkeepsie, which he called 
Eiverby. Here, in his eager delight over the 
planting of his roof-tree, he helped, so far as his 
time permitted, in the building, placing many 
of the rough-hewn stones himself. He tells with 
some relish a story of the Scotch mason, who, on 
looking back one evening as he was being ferried 
across to his home on the east shore of the river, 
saw, to his great anger another man at work on 

44 



JOHN BURROUGHS 

his job. Returning in fury to see why he had 
been supplanted, he surprised the owner him- 
self in the act of putting in place some of the 
stones for the chimney. 

"Weel, you are a hahndy mahn!" he ex- 
claimed. 

The big river never appealed to Mr. Bur- 
roughs, however, as the friendly Pepacton and 
the other silver-clear streams where he had 
caught trout as a boy. It brought too close the 
noise of the world, the fever of getting and 
spending. Besides, its rising and ebbing tides, 
its big steamers and busy tugs, its shad 
and herring, were all strange to him; his 
boyhood home had known nothing of these 
things. 

He built for himself a bark-covered retreat 
some two miles back from the river in a bowl- 
shaped hollow among the thickly wooded hills. 
"Slabsides," as he called this human bird's- 
nest, was a two-story shack of rough-hewn tim- 
bers. 

"One of the greatest pleasures of life is to 
build a house for one's self," he said; " there 
is a peculiar satisfaction even in planting a tree 

45 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

from which you hope to eat the fruit or in the 
shade of which you hope to repose. But how 
much greater the pleasure in planting the roof- 
tree, the tree that bears the golden apples of 
hospitality. What is a man 's house but his nest, 
and why should it not be nest-like, both outside 
and in, snug and well-feathered and modeled 
by the heart within!" 

Many guests climbed the steep, rocky trail and 
enjoyed the hospitality of this retreat, among 
others President Eoosevelt and his wife. The 
naturalist, whom Colonel Eoosevelt affection- 
ately called "Oom John," cooked the dinner 
himself, bringing milk and butter from his cave 
refrigerator, broiling the chicken, and prepar- 
ing the lettuce, celery, and other vegetables 
which grew in the rich black mold of the hol- 
low. As he prepared and served the meal with 
all the ease of a practised camper there was 
never a halt in the talk of these two great lovers 
of the outdoor world. If the poet-sage who de- 
plored that 

Things are in the saddle, 
And ride mankind 

could have spent a day with John Burroughs, he 

46 



JOHN BURROUGHS 

would have found one man, at least, who never 
knew the tyranny of possessions, and so was 
never possessed by them. He is the type of the 
sane, happy human being who, while journey- 
ing through life, has taken time to live by the 
way. He knows the enchanting by-paths of ex- 
istence, the friendly trails that wind over mead- 
ows and hills. 

"I am in love with this world," he says; "I 
have nestled lovingly in it. It has been home. 
I have tilled its soil, I have gathered its har- 
vests, I have waited upon its seasons, and al- 
ways have I reaped what I have sown. While 
I delved, I did not lose sight of the sky over- 
head. While I gathered its bread and meat for 
my body, I did not neglect to gather its bread 
and meat for my soul." 

Though the whole wide out-of-doors is home 
to John Burroughs, there is one spot that is 
more than any other the abiding-place of his 
affections. This is the country of his childhood 
in the Catskills. Here he spends his summers 
now at Woodchuck Lodge, a cottage about half 
a mile from the old homestead. Here he is 
happy in a way that he can be nowhere else. 

47 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

The woods and fields are flesh of his flesh, the 
mountains are father and mother to him. 

A day with John Burroughs at Woodchuck 
Lodge will always seem torn from the calendar 
of ordinary living, a day apart, free, wholesome, 
and untouched by petty care. His world is in- 
deed "so full of a number of things" that all 
who come within the spell of its serene content 
are "as happy as kings." 

As he makes whistles of young shoots of dog- 
wood for his small grandson he tells of his 
school-days, when necessity taught his hand the 
cunning to make his own pens, slate-pencils, and 
ink-wells. "And they were a very good sort, 
too," he adds. "Those were home-made days. 
I remember my homespun shirts, made of our 
own flax, yellow at first and as good as ever 
hair-shirt could have been in the way of scratch- 
ing penance. All my playthings were home- 
made. How well I remember my trout-lines of 
braided horsehair, and the sawmill in the brook 
that actually cut up the turnips, apples, and 
cucumbers that I proudly fed it." 

"These, too, are home-made days of the best 
sort," we think as we look about the rustic porch 

48 



JOHN BURROUGHS 

and chairs made of silvery birch, and at the 
silver-haired seer, surrounded by his grand- 
children and the friends who gather about him 
with the happy feeling of being most entirely at 
home. 

"You like my chairs with the bark on?" he 
says. "It 's a sort of hobby of mine to see how 
the natural forks and crooks and elbows which 
I discover in the saplings and tree-boles can be 
coaxed into serving my turn about the house, 
and I make it a point to use them as nearly as 
possible as they grow." 

We sit on the porch at his feet, watching the 
chipmunks frisk along the fences and the wood- 
chucks creep furtively out of their holes. We 
do not speak for several long minutes, because 
we want to taste the quiet life he loves in the 
heart of the blue hills. We fancy that we can 
hear in the twitter of the tree-tops a clearly un- 
derstood mingling of familiar voices, and that 
we feel in our hearts an answering echo that 
proves us truly akin to the creatures in feathers 
and fur. 

"Home sights and sounds are best of all," 
says our friend, as he gazes across at the purple 

49 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

shadows on Old Clump. "The sublime beauty 
of the Yosemite touched me with wonder and 
awe, but when I heard the robin's note it touched 
my heart. Bright Angel Creek in the Grand 
Canon found its way into the innermost recesses 
of my consciousness in the moment when it re- 
minded me of the trout-stream at home." 

There is another pause, in which the silver- 
clear notes of the* vesper-sparrow come to us 
with their "Peace, good will and good night." 

"I think I am something like a turtle in the 
way I love to poke about in narrow fields," he 
adds whimsically; "but why should I rush hither 
and yon to see things when I can see constella- 
tions from my own door-step?" 

And so it is indeed true that the Seer of Wood- 
chuck Lodge can still find in a ramble among 
his own hills the land of wonder and beauty 
which he found as a boy when he followed the 
flash of the unknown bird, and in the glowing 
twilight of his years, with eyes that look into the 
heart and meaning of things, can, from his door- 
step, trace constellations undreamed of by day. 



50 



THE DEEP-SEA DOCTOR: 
WILFRED GRENFELL 



As the bird wings and sings, 

Let us cry, "All good things 
Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, 

Now, than flesh helps soul!" 

BROWNING. 



THE DEEP-SEA DOCTOR 

WHEN people meet Dr. Grenfell, the good 
doctor who braves the storms of the 
most dangerous of all sea-coasts and endures the 
hardships of arctic winters to care for the lonely 
fisherfolk of Labrador, they often ask, with pity- 
ing wonder : 

"How do you manage it, Doctor, day in and 
day out through all the long months ? It seems 
too much for any man to sacrifice himself as 
you do." 

" Don't think for a moment that I 'm a mar- 
tyr, " replies Dr. Grenfell, a bit impatiently, 
"Why, I have a jolly good time of it ! There *s 
nothing like a really good scrimmage to make 
a fellow sure that he 's alive, and glad of it. 
I learned that in my football days, and Labrador 
gives even better chances to know the joy of 
winning out in a tingling good tussle. " 

Dr. GrenfelPs face, with the warm color glow- 
ing through the tan, his clear, steady eyes, and 
erect, vigorous form, all testify to his keen zest 

53 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

in the adventure of life. Ever since he could 
rememher, he had, he told us, been in love with 
the thrill of strenuous action. When a small 
boy, he looked at the tiger-skin and other 
trophies of the hunt which his soldier uncles had 
sent from India, and dreamed of the time when 
he should learn the ways of the jungle at first 
hand. 

He comes of a race of strong men. One uncle 
was a general -who bore himself with distin- 
guished gallantry in the Indian Mutiny at Luck- 
now when the little garrison of seventeen hun- 
dred men held the city for twelve weeks against 
a besieging force ten times as great. One of his 
father's ancestors was Sir Richard Grenville, 
the hero of the Revenge, who, desperately strug- 
gling to save his wounded men, fought with his 
one ship against the whole Spanish fleet of fifty- 
three. Perhaps you remember Tennyson's 
thrilling lines : 

And the stately Spanish men to their flag-ship bore him 

then, 
Where they laid him by the mast, old Sir Richard caught 

at last, 

And they praised him to his face with their courtly foreign 
grace; 

54 




Dr. Wilfred T. CJrenfell 



WILFRED GRENFELL 

But he rose upon their decks, and he cried: 

"I have fought for Queen and Faith like a valiant man 

and true; 

I have only done my duty as a man is bound to do; 
With a joyful spirit I, Sir Richard Grenville, die!" 

How these lines sang in Ms memory I Is 
it any wonder that the lad who heard this' 
story as one among many thrilling tales of his 
own people should have felt that life was a 
splendid adventure? 

As a boy in his home at Parkgate, near Ches- 
ter, England, he was early accustomed to stren- 
uous days in the open. He knew the stretches 
of sand-banks, the famous " Sands of Dee," 
with their deep, intersecting "gutters'* where 
many curlews, mallards, and other water-birds 
sought hiding. In his rocking home-made boat 
he explored from end to end the estuary into 
which the River Dee flowed, now and again hail- 
ing a fishing-smack for a tow home, if evening 
fell too soon, and sharing with the crew their 
supper of boiled shrimps. He seemed to know 
as by instinct the moods of the tides and storm- 
vexed waves, which little boats must learn to 
watch and circumvent. He became a lover, also, 
of wild nature birds, animals, and plants 

57 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

and of simple, vigorous men who lived rough, 
wholesome lives in the open. 

Though he went from the boys ' school at Park- 
gate to Marlborough College, and later to Ox- 
ford, he had at this time no hint of the splendid 
adventures that life offers in the realm of mental 
and spiritual activities. Eugby football, in 
which he did his share to uphold the credit of the 
university, certainly made the most vital part of 
this chapter of his life. It was not until he took 
up the study of medicine at the London Hospital 
that he began to appreciate the value of knowl- 
edge " because it enables one to do things." 

There was one day of this study-time in Lon- 
don that made a change in the young doctor's 
whole life. Partly out of curiosity, he followed 
a crowd in the poorer part of the city, into a 
large tent, where a religious meeting was being 
held. In a moment he came to realize that his 
religion had been just a matter of believing as 
he was taught, of conducting himself as did 
those about him, and of going to church on Sun- 
day. It seemed that here, however, were men 
to whom religion was as real and practical a 
thing as the rudder is to a boat. All at once he 

58 



WILFRED GRENFELL 

saw what it would mean to have a strong guid- 
ing power in one 's life. 

His mind seemed wonderfully set free. 
There were no longer conflicting aims, ideals, 
uncertainties, and misgivings. There was one 
purpose, one desire to enter "the service that 
is perfect freedom,'* the service of the King 
of Kings. Life was indeed a glorious adven- 
ture, whose meaning was plain and whose end 
sure. 

How he enjoyed his class of unruly boys from 
the slums ! Most people would have considered 
them hopeless "toughs." He saw that they 
were just active boys, eager for life, who had 
been made what they were by unwholesome 
surroundings. "All they need is to get hold of 
the rudder and to feel the breath of healthy liv- 
ing in their faces," he said. He fitted up one 
of his rooms with gymnasium material and 
taught the boys to box. He took them for out- 
ings into the country. When he saw the way 
they responded to this little chance for happy 
activity, he became one of the founders of the 
Lads' Brigades and Lads' Camps, which have 
done the same sort of good in England that the 

59 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

Boy Scouts organization has done in this coun- 
try. 

When he completed his medical course, the 
young doctor looked about for a field that would 
give chance for adventure and for service where 
a physician was really needed. 

"I feel there is something for me besides 
hanging out my sign in a city where there are 
already doctors and to spare," he said. 

"Why don't you see what can be done with a 
hospital-ship among the North Sea fishermen !" 
said Sir Frederick Treves, who was a great sur- 
geon and a master mariner as well. 

When Dr. Grenfell heard about how sick and 
injured men suffered for lack of care when on 
their long fishing-expeditions, he decided to fall 
in with this suggestion. He joined the staff of 
the Mission to Deep-sea Fishermen, and fitted 
out the first hospital-ship to the North Sea fish- 
eries, which cruised about from the Bay of Bis- 
cay to Iceland, giving medical aid where it 
was often desperately needed. 

When this work was well established, and 
other volunteers offered to take it up, Dr. Gren- 
fell sought a new world of adventure. Hearing 

60 



WILFRED GRENFELL 

of the forlorn condition of the English-speaking 
settlers and natives on the remote shores of 
wind-swept Labrador, he resolved to fit out a 
hospital-ship and bring them what help he could. 
So began in 1892 Dr. Grenf ell's great work with 
his schooner Albert, in which he cruised about 
for three months and ministered to nine hun- 
dred patients, who, but for him, would have had 
no intelligent care. 

Can you picture Labrador as something more 
than a pink patch on the cold part of the map? 
That strip of coast northwest of Newfoundland 
is a land of sheer cliffs broken by deep fiords, 
like much of Norway. Rocky islands and hid- 
den reefs make the shores dangerous to ships 
in the terrific gales that are of frequent occur- 
rence. But this forbidding, wreck-strewn land 
of wild, jutting crags has a weird beauty of its 
own. Picture it in winter when the deep snow 
has effaced all inequalities of surface and the 
dark spruces alone stand out against the gleam- 
ing whiteness. The fiords and streams are 
bound in an icy silence which holds the sea itself 
in thrall. Think of the colors of the moonlight 
on the ice, and the flaming splendor of the north- 

61 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

ern lights. Then picture it when summer has 
unloosed the land from the frozen spell. 
Mosses, brilliant lichens, and bright berries 
cover the rocky ground, the evergreens stand 
in unrivaled freshness, and gleaming trout and 
salmon dart out of the water, where great ice- 
bergs go floating by like monster fragments of 
the crystal city of the frost giants, borne along 
now by the arctic current to tell the world about 
the victory of the sun over the powers of cold 
in the far North. 

When Dr. Grenfell sailed about in the Albert 
that first summer, the people thought he was 
some strange, big-hearted madman, who bore a 
charmed life. He seemed to know nothing and 
care nothing about foamy reefs, unfamiliar 
tides and currents, and treacherous winds. 
When it was impossible to put out in the 
schooner, he went in a whale-boat, which was 
worn out honorably discharged from service 
after a single season. The people who guarded 
the lives of their water-craft with jealous care 
shook their heads. Truly, the man must be 
mad. His boat was capsized, swamped, blown 
on the rocks, and once driven out to sea by a gale 

62 



WILFRED GRENFELL 

that terrified the crew of the solidly built mail- 
boat. This time he was reported lost, but after 
a few days he appeared in the harbor of St. 
John's, face aglow, and eyes fairly snapping 
with the zest of the conflict. 

"Sure, the Lord must kape an eye on that 
man," said an old skipper, devoutly. 

It was often said of a gale on the Labrador 
coast, "That 's a wind that '11 bring Gren- 
fell." The doctor, impatient of delays, and 
feeling the same exhilaration in a good stiff 
breeze that a lover of horses feels in managing a 
spirited thoroughbred, never failed to make use 
of a wind that might help send him on his way. 

What sort of people are these to whom Dr. 
Grenfell ministers? They are, as you might 
think, simple, hardy men, in whom ceaseless 
struggle against bleak conditions of life has de- 
veloped strength of character and capacity to 
endure. Besides the scattered groups of Eski- 
mos in the north, who live by hunting seal and 
walrus, and the Indians who roam the interior 
in search of furs, there are some seven or eight 
thousand English-speaking inhabitants widely 
scattered along the coast. In summer as many 

63 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

as thirty thousand fishermen are drawn from 
Newfoundland and Nova Scotia to share in the 
profit of the cod- and salmon-fisheries. All of 
these people were practically without medical 
care before Dr. Grenfell came. Can you imag- 
ine what this meant? This is the story of one 
fisherman in his own words : 

"I had a poisoned finger. It rose up and got 
very bad. I did not know what to do, so I took 
a passage on a schooner and went to Halifax. 
It was nine months before I was able to get back, 
as there was no boat going back before the win- 
ter. It cost me seventy-five dollars, and my 
hand was the same as useless, as it was so long 
before it was treated. ' ' 

Another told of having to wait nine days 
after "shooting his hand" before he could reach 
a doctor; and he had made the necessary jour- 
ney in remarkably good time at that. He did 
not know if he ought to thank the doctor for 
saving his life when it was too late to save his 
hand. What can a poor fisherman do without 
a hand? 

The chief sources of danger to these people 
who live by the food of the sea are the uncertain 

64 




. 



WILFEED GRENFELL 

winds and the treacherous ice-floes. When the 
ice begins to break in spring, the swift currents 
move great masses along with terrific force. 
Then woe betide the rash schooner that ventures 
into the path of these ice-rafts ! For a moment 
she pushes her way among the floating "pans" 
or cakes of ice. All at once the terrible jam 
comes. The schooner is caught like a rat in a 
trap. The jaws of the ice monster never relax, 
while the timbers of the vessel crack and splin- 
ter and the solid deck-beams arch up, bow fash- 
ion, and snap like so many straws. Then, per- 
haps, the pressure changes. With a sudden 
shift of the wind a rift comes between the huge 
ice-masses, and the sea swallows its prey. 

It is a strange thing that but few of the fish- 
ermen know how to swim. "You see, we has 
enough o* the water without goin' to bother wi' 
it when we are ashore," one old skipper told 
the doctor in explanation. 

The only means of rescue when one finds him- 
self in the water is a line or a pole held by 
friends until a boat can be brought to the scene. 
Many stories might be told of the bravery of 
these people and their instant willingness to 

67 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

serve each other. Once a girl, who saw her 
brother fall through a hole in the ice, ran swiftly 
to the spot, while the men who were trying to 
reach the place with their boat shouted to her 
to go back. Stretching full length, however, on 
the gradually sinking ice, she held on to her 
brother till the boat forced its way to them. 

Perhaps the most terrible experience that has 
come to the brave doctor was caused by the ice- 
floes. It was on Easter Sunday in 1908 when 
word came to the hospital that a boy was very 
ill in a little village sixty miles away. The doc- 
tor at once got his ' ' komatik, ' ' or dog-sledge, in 
readiness and his splendid team of eight dogs, 
who had often carried him through many tight 
places. Brin, the leader, was the one who could 
be trusted to keep the trail when all signs and 
landmarks were covered by snow and ice. 
There were also Doc, Spy, Jack, Sue, Jerry, 
Watch, and Moody each no less beloved for 
his own strong points and faithful service. 

It was while crossing an arm of the sea, a ten- 
mile run on salt-water ice, that the accident oc- 
curred. An unusually heavy sea had left great 
openings between enormous blocks or "pans" 

68 



WILFRED GRENFELL 

of ice a little to seaward. It seemed, however, 
that the doctor could be sure of a safe passage 
on an ice-bridge, that though rough, was firmly 
packed, while the stiff sea-breeze was making it 
stronger moment by moment through driving 
the floating pans toward the shore. But all at 
once there came a sudden change in the wind. 
It began to blow from the land, and in a moment 
the doctor realized that his ice-bridge had 
broken asunder and the portion on which he 
found himself was separated by a widening 
chasm from the rest. He was adrift on an ice- 
pan. 

It all happened so quickly that he was unable 
to do anything but cut the harness of the dogs 
to keep them from being tangled in the traces 
and dragged down after the sled. He found 
himself soaking wet, his sledge, with his extra 
clothing, gone, and only the remotest chance of 
being seen from the lonely shore and rescued. 
If only water had separated him from the bank, 
he might have tried swimming, but, for the most 
part, between the floating pans was "slob ice," 
that is, ice broken into tiny bits by the grinding 
together of the huge masses. 

69 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

Night came, and with it such intense cold that 
he was obliged to sacrifice three of his dogs and 
clothe himself in their skins to keep from freez- 
ing, for coat, hat, and gloves had been lost in the 
first struggle to gain a place on the largest avail- 
able "pan" of ice. Then, curled up among the 
remaining dogs, and so, somewhat protected 
from the bitter wind, he fell asleep. 

"When daylight came, he took off his gaily- 
colored shirt, which was a relic of his football 
days, and, with the leg bones of the slain dogs 
as a pole, constructed a flag of distress. The 
warmth of the sun brought cheer ; and so, even 
though his reason told him that there was but 
the smallest chance of being seen, he stood up 
and waved his flag steadily until too weary to 
make another move. Every time he sat down 
for a moment of rest, "Doc" came and licked 
his face and then went to the edge of the ice, as 
if to suggest it was high time to start. 

At last Dr. Grenf ell thought he saw the gleam 
of an oar. He could hardly believe his eyes, 
which were, indeed, almost snow-blinded, as his 
dark glasses had been lost with all his other 
things. Then yes surely there was the keel 

70 



WILFRED GRENFELL 

of a boat, and a man waving to him ! In a mo- 
ment came the blessed sound of a friendly voice. 

Now that the struggle was over, he felt him- 
self lifted into the boat as in a dream. In the 
same way he swallowed the hot tea which they 
had brought in a bottle. This is what one of the 
rescuers said, in telling about it afterward : 

"When we got near un, it didn't seem like 't 
was the doctor. 'E looked so old an' 'is face 
such a queer color. 'E was very solemn-like 
when us took un an' the dogs in th' boat. Th' 
first thing 'e said was how wonderfu' sorry 'e 
was o' gettin' into such a mess an' givin' we th' 
trouble o' comin' out for un. Then 'e fretted 
about the b'y 'e was goin' to see, it bein' too 
late to reach un, and us to' un 'is life was worth 
more 'n the b'y, fur 'e could save others. But 
'e still fretted." 

They had an exciting time of it, reaching the 
shore. Sometimes they had to jump out and 
force the ice-pans apart; again, when the wind 
packed the blocks together too close, they had 
to drag the boat over. 

When the bank was gained at last and the 
doctor dressed in the warm clothes that the 

71 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

fishermen wear, they got a sledge ready to take 
him to the hospital, where his frozen hands and 
feet could be treated. There, too, the next day 
the sick boy was brought, and his life saved. 

Afterward, in telling of his experience, the 
thing which moved the doctor most was the sac- 
rifice of his dogs. In his hallway a bronze tab- 
let was placed with this inscription : 

TO THE MEMORY OF 

THREE NOBLE DOGS 

MOODY 

WATCH 

SPY 

WHOSE LIVES WERE GIVEN 
FOR MINE ON THE ICE 

APRIL 2 1ST, 1908 
WILFRED GRENFELL 

In his old home in England his brother put up 
a similar tablet, adding these words, "Not one 
of them is forgotten before your Father which is 
in heaven." 

Besides caring for the people himself, Dr. 
Grenfell won the interest of other workers 
doctors, nurses, and teachers. Through his ef- 
forts, hospitals, schools, and orphan-asylums 
have been built. Of all the problems, however, 
with which this large-hearted, practical friend 
of the deep-sea fishermen has had to deal in his 

72 



WILFRED GEENFELL 

Labrador work, perhaps the chief was that of 
the dire poverty of the people. It seemed idle 
to try to cure men of ills which were the direct 
result of conditions under which they lived. 

When the doctor began his work in 1892 he 
found that the poverty-stricken people were 
practically at the mercy of unprincipled, schem- 
ing storekeepers who charged two or three 
prices for flour, salt, and other necessaries of 
life. The men, as a result, were always in debt, 
mortgaging their next summer's catch of fish 
long before the winter was over. To cure this 
evil, Grenfell opened cooperative stores, run 
solely for the benefit of the fishermen, and es- 
tablished industries that would give a chance of 
employment during the cold months. A grant 
of timberland was obtained from the govern- 
ment and a lumber-mill opened. A schooner- 
building yard, and a cooperage for making kegs 
and barrels to hold the fish exported, were next 
installed. 

This made it possible to gather together the 
people, who were formerly widely scattered be- 
cause dependent on food gained through hunt- 
ing and trapping. This made it possible, too, 

73 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

to carry out plans for general improvement 
schools for the children and some social life. 
Two small jails, no longer needed in this capac- 
ity, were converted into clubs, with libraries and 
games. Realizing the general need for health- 
ful recreation, the doctor introduced rubber 
footballs, which might be used in the snow. The 
supply of imported articles could not keep pace 
with the demand, however. All along the coast, 
young and old joined in the game. Even the 
"Eskimo women, with wee babies in their hoods, 
played with their brown-faced boys and girls, 
using sealskin balls stuffed with dry grass. 

Knowing that Labrador can never hope to do 
much in agriculture, as even the cabbages and 
potatoes frequently suffer through summer 
frosts, the doctor tried to add to the resources 
of the country by introducing a herd of rein- 
deer from Lapland, together with three fam- 
ilies of Lapps to teach the people how to care 
for them. Reindeer milk is rich and makes 
good cheese. Moreover, the supply of meat and 
leather they provide is helping to make up for 
the falling-off in the number of seals, due to un- 
restricted hunting. The transportation af- 

74 



WILFRED GRENFELL 

forded by the reindeer is also important in a 
land where rapid transit consists of dog- 
sledges. 

Dr. Grenfell has himself financed his various 
schemes, using, in addition to gifts from those 
whom he can interest, the entire income gained 
from his books and lectures. He keeps nothing 
for himself but the small salary as mission doc- 
tor to pay actual living expenses. All of the in- 
dustrial enterprises cooperative stores, saw- 
mills, reindeer, fox-farms, are deeded to the 
Deep-Sea Mission, and become its property as 
soon as they begin to be profitable. 

Would you like to spend a day with Dr. Gren- 
fell in summer, when he cruises about in his 
hospital-ship three or four thousand miles back 
and forth, from St. John's all along the Labra- 
dor coast? You would see what a wonderful 
pilot the doctor is as he faces the perils of hid- 
den reefs, icebergs, fogs, and storms. You 
would see that he can doctor his ship, should it 
leak or the propeller go lame, as well as the 
numbers of people who come to him with every 
sort of ill from aching teeth to broken bones. 

Perhaps, though, you might prefer a fine, 
75 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

crisp day in winter. Then you could drive forty 
or fifty miles in the komatik, getting off to run 
when you feel a bit stiff with the cold, especially 
if it happens to be uphill. You might be 
tempted to coast down the hills, but you find 
that dogs can't stand that any more than horses 
could, so you let down the "drug" (a piece of 
iron chain) to block the runners. There is no 
sound except the lone twitter of a venturesome 
tomtit who decided to risk the winter in a par- 
ticularly thick spruce-tree. Sometimes you go 
bumpity-bump over fallen trees, with pitfalls 
between lightly covered with snow. Sometimes 
the dogs bound ahead eagerly over smooth 
ground where the only signs of the times are 
the occasional tracks of a rabbit, partridge, fox, 
or caribou. Then how you will enjoy the din- 
ner of hot toasted pork cakes before the open 
fire, after the excitement of feeding the raven- 
ous dogs with huge pieces of frozen seal-meat 
and seeing them burrow down under the snow 
for their night's sleep. If there is no pressing 
need of his services next morning, the doctor 
may take you skeeing, or show you how to catch 
trout through a hole in the ice. 

76 



WILFRED GRENFELL 

Winter or summer, perhaps you might come 
to agree with Dr. Grenfell that one may have 
"a jolly good time" while doing a man's work 
in rough, out-of-the-way Labrador. You would, 
at any rate, have a chance to discover that life 
may be a splendid adventure. 



77 



THE CAPTAIN OF HIS SOUL: 
CAPTAIN SCOTT 



One equal temper of heroic hearts, 

Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will 

To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. 

TENNYSON. 



THE CAPTAIN OF HIS SOUL 

WE know of many heroes heroes of long 
ago, whose shining deeds make the past 
bright; and heroes of to-day, whose courage in 
the face of danger and hardship and whose 
faithful service for others make the times in 
which we live truly the best times of all. But 
should you ask me who of all this mighty com- 
pany of the brave was the bravest, I should an- 
swer, Captain Scott. Some one has called his 
story, "The Undying Story of Captain Scott.'* 
Would you like to hear it, and know for your- 
self why it is that as long as true men live this 
is a story that cannot die I 

Most people who work know what they are 
working for; most men who are fighting for a 
cause know where they give* their strength and 
their lives. The explorer alone has to go for- 
ward in the dark. He does not know what he 
will find. Only he hears within his heart the 
still whisper: " Something hidden. Go and 
find it." And he believes that there is no far 

81 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

place of the earth that does not hold some truth, 
something that will help us learn the secrets of 
life and explain much that puzzles us in the 
world to-day. 

When the explorer has once begun to think 
and wonder about the great unseen, unknown 
countries, where man has never journeyed, the 
whisper comes again and again: " Something 
hidden. Go and find it." 

People sometimes say to the explorer, ' ' There 
is no sense of going to those strange lands 
where you cannot live. No good nor gold ever 
yet came from No-Man's Land." 

But the men who went into the jungles of 
darkest Africa said, "As long as there is some- 
thing hidden we must go to find it." And the 
men who went into the still, white, frozen lands 
of the North said : "There is no truth that can 
stay untouched. When we know the secrets 
of the North and the South, we shall the better 
understand the East and the West." 

The whisper, "Something hidden," came to 
Robert Falcon Scott when he was a little boy 
in Devonshire, England. Con, as he was called, 
never tired of hearing the tales of Sir Walter 

82 



CAPTAIN SCOTT 

Raleigh, and of Sir Francis Drake, who sailed 
the seas and found a new world for England 
and sent his drum back to Devon where it was 
hung on the old sea-wall to show that the great 
days of the past would surely live again. 

"You must take my drum" (Drake said), 

"To the old sea-wall at home, 
And if ever you strike that drum," he said, 

"Why, strike me blind, I '11 come ! 

"If England needs me, dead 

Or living, I '11 rise that day ! 
I '11 rise from the darkness under the sea 

Ten thousand miles awayl" 

The Devonshire men were sure that the brave 
spirit of Drake would come back in some true 
English heart whenever the time of need came. 
They even whispered when they told how Nel- 
son won his great victory at Trafalgar, 

"It was the spirit of Sir Francis Drake." 

When Con heard these tales, and the stories 
of his own father and uncles who were captains 
in England's navy, he knew it was true that the 
spirit of a brave man does not die. 

Sometimes when he was thinking of these 
things and wondering about the "something 
hidden" that the future had in store for him, 

83 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

his father would have to call him three or four 
times before he could wake him from his dream. 
"Old Mooney," his father called him then, and 
he shook his head. 

" Remember, son," he would say, "an hour 
of doing is better than a life of dreaming. You 
must wake up and stir about in this world, and 
prove that you have it in you to be a man." 

How do you think that the delicate boy, with 
the narrow chest and the dreamy blue eyes, 
whom his father called * ' Old Mooney, ' ' grew into 
the wide-awake, practical lad who became, a 
few years later, captain of the naval cadets on 
the training ship Britannia? 

"I must learn to command this idle, dreamy 
'Old Mooney' before I can ever command a 
ship," he said to himself. So he gave himself 
orders in earnest. 

When he wanted to lie in bed an extra half 
hour, it was, "Up, sir! 'Up and doing,' is the 
word!" And out he would jump with a laugh 
and a cheer for the new day. 

When he felt like hugging the fire with a book 
on his knees he would say, ' ' Out, sir ! Get out 
in the open air and show what you 're made 

84 



CAPTAIN SCOTT 

of!" Then he would race for an hour or two 
with his dog, a big Dane, over the downs, to 
come back in a glow ready for anything. And 
so the man who was to command others became 
master of himself. There came a time when a 
strong, brave man was needed to take command 
of the ship Discovery, that was to sail over un- 
explored seas to the South Pole. And Kobert 
Falcon Scott, then a lieutenant in the royal navy, 
who had long dreamed of going forth where 
ships and men had never been and find the 
"something hidden" in strange far-off lands, 
found his dream had come true. He was put in 
command of that ship. 

Three years were spent in that terrible land 
where 

The ice was here, the ice was there, 

The ice was all around; 
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled 

in the fierce winds that swept over those great 
death-white wastes. 

After this time of hardship and plucky en- 
durance it was hard to have to return without 
having reached the South Pole. But he came 
back with so much of deepest interest and value 

85 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

to report about the unknown country, that those 
who had given their money to provide for the 
expedition said: "The voyage has really been 
a success. Captain Scott must go again under 
better conditions with the best help and equip- 
ment possible." 

It was some time, however, before Captain 
Scott could be spared to go on that second and 
last voyage to the South Pole. This man who 
knew all about commanding ships and men was 
needed to help with the great battleships of the 
navy. Five years had passed before plans 
were ready for the greatest voyage of all. 

When it was known that Captain Scott was to 
set out' on another expedition, eight thousand 
men volunteered to go as members of the party. 
It was splendid to think how much real interest 
there was in the work and to know how much 
true bravery and fine spirit of adventure there 
is in the men of our every-day world, but it was 
hard to choose wisely out of so many the sixty 
men to make up the party. 

They needed, of course, officers of the navy, 
besides Captain Scott, to help plan and direct, 
a crew of able seamen, firemen, and stokers to 

86 




Pl,,,t,, k,i llr-.i-n tin*. 



Captain Robert F. Scott 



CAPTAIN SCOTT 

run the ship, and doctors and stewards to take 
care of the men. Besides these, they wanted 
men of science who would be able to investigate 
in the right way the plants, animals, rocks, ice, 
ocean currents, and winds of that strange part 
of the earth; and an artist able to draw and 
to take the best kind of photographs and mov- 
ing pictures. 

The ship chosen for this voyage was the 
Terra Nova, the largest and strongest whaler 
that could be found. Whalers are ships used 
in whale-fishing, which are built expressly to 
make their way through the floating ice of 
Arctic seas. 

The Terra Nova was a stout steamer carry- 
ing full sail, so that the winds might help in 
sending her on her way, thus saving coal when- 
ever possible. The great difficulty was, of 
course, the carrying of sufficient supplies for a 
long time and for many needs. 

With great care each smallest detail was 
worked out. There were three motor sledges, 
nineteen ponies, and thirty-three dogs to trans- 
port supplies. There was material for put- 
ting up huts and tents. There were sacks of 

89 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

coal, great cans of oil and petrol (gasoline) ; and 
tons of boxes of provisions, such as pemmican, 
biscuit, butter, sugar, chocolate things that 
would not spoil and which would best keep men 
strong and warm while working hard in a cold 
country. There were fur coats, fur sleeping 
bags, snow shoes, tools of all sorts, precious in- 
struments, books, and many other things, each 
of which was carefully considered for they 
were going where no further supplies of any 
sort were to be had. 

On June 15, 1910, the Terra Nova sailed from 
Wales, and on November 26 left New Zealand 
for the great adventure. 

If the men had been superstitious they would 
have been sure that a troublous time was ahead, 
for almost immediately a terrible storm broke. 
Great waves swept over the decks, the men had 
to work with buckets and pumps to bale out the 
engine room, while boxes and cases went bump- 
ing about on the tossing ship, endangering the 
lives of men and animals, and adding to the noise 
and terror of the blinding, roaring tempest. 

But through it all the men never lost their 
spirits. Scott led in the singing of chanties, as 

90 



CAPTAIN SCOTT 

they worked hour after hour to save the ship 
and its precious cargo. 

At last they came out on a calm sea where the 
sun shone on blue waves dotted here and there 
with giant ice-bergs, like great floating palaces, 
agleam with magic light and color, beautiful 
outposts of the icy world they were about to 
enter. 

You know that the seasons in the South Arc- 
tic regions are exactly opposite to ours. Christ- 
mas comes in the middle of their summer the 
time of the long day when the sun never drops 
below the horizon. Their winter, when they get 
no sunlight for months, comes during the time 
we are having spring and summer. 

It was Scott's plan to sail as far as the ship 
could go during the time of light, build a com- 
fortable hut for winter quarters, then go ahead 
with sledges and carry loads of provisions, leav- 
ing them in depots along the path of their jour- 
ney south, which was to begin with the coming 
of the next long day. 

Patient watchfulness, not only by the man in 
the crow's nest, but on the part of all hands, 
was needed to guide the ship through the great 

91 



HEEOES OF TO-DAY 

masses of ice that pressed closer and closer 
about, as if they longed to seize and keep it for- 
ever in their freezing hold. 

At last in January they came within sight of 
Mt. Terror, a volcano on Boss Island, which 
marked the place where they must land. It was 
strange and terrible, but most beautiful, to see 
the fire rise from that snowy mountain in the 
great white world they had come to explore. 
The ship could go no farther south because 
there stretched away from the shore of the 
island the great Ice Barrier, an enormous ice 
cap rising above the sea fifty or sixty feet and 
extending for 150,000 square miles. 

Scott came, you remember, knowing well what 
lay before him. To reach the South Pole he 
must travel from his winter camp on Boss 
Island, 424 miles over the barrier, climb 125 
miles over a monster glacier, and then push his 
way over 353 more miles of rough ice on a lofty, 
wind-swept plain. The whole journey south- 
ward and back to the winter hut covered about 
1,850 miles. 

As they could not count at most on more than 
150 days in the year when marching would be 

92 



CAPTAIN SCOTT 

possible, this meant that they must make over 
ten miles a day during the time of daylight. 
Scott knew how hard this must be in that land of 
fierce winds and sudden blizzards, when the 
blinding, drifting snow made all marching out 
of the question. But there was nothing of the 
dreamer about him now; he carefully worked 
out his plans and prepared for every emer- 
gency. 

After finding a good place to land and build 
the hut for the winter camp where it would be 
sheltered from the worst winds, they spent eight 
days unloading the ship, which then sailed away 
along the edge of the barrier with a part of the 
men, to find out how things were to the east of 
them. 

Captain Scott and his men had an exciting 
time, I can tell you, carrying their heavy boxes 
and packing cases across the ice to the beach. 
Great killer whales, twenty feet long, came 
booming along under them, striking the ice with 
their backs, making it rock dizzily and split into 
wide cracks, over which the men had to jump to 
save their lives and their precious stores. 

While part of the company was building the 
93 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

hut and making it comfortable for the long dark 
winter, Captain Scott and a group of picked men 
began the work of going ahead and planting 
stores at depots along the way south. They 
would place fuel and boxes of food under canvas 
cover, well planted to secure it against the wind, 
and mark the spot by a high cairn, or mound, 
made of blocks of ice. This mound was topped 
with upright skis or dark packing boxes, which 
could be seen as black specks miles away in that 
white world. At intervals along the trail they 
would erect other cairns to mark the way over 
the desert of snow. Then back they went to the 
hut and the winter of waiting before the march. 

How do you suppose they spent the long weeks 
of darkness ? Why, they had a wonderful time ! 
Each man was studying with all his might about 
the many strange things he had found in that 
land. 

Wilson, who was Scott's best friend, gave 
illustrated lectures about the water birds he 
had found near there, the clumsy penguins who 
came tottering up right in the face of his cam- 
era as if they were anxious to have their pic- 
tures taken. He had pictures, too, of their 

94 



CAPTAIN SCOTT 

nests and their funny, floundering babies. 
There were also pictures of seals peeping up 
at him out of their breathing-holes in the ice, 
where he had gone fishing and had caught all 
sorts of curious sea creatures. 

Other men were examining pieces of rock and 
telling the story which they told of the history 
of the earth ages and ages ago when the land 
of that Polar world was joined with the conti- 
nents of Africa and South America. Evans 
gave lectures on surveying, and Scott told about 
the experiences of his earlier voyage and ex- 
plained the use of his delicate instruments. 

Of course they took short exploring trips 
about, and sometimes when the moon was up, 
or, perhaps, in the scant twilight of midday, 
they played a game of football in the snow. 

At last the sun returned, and the time came 
for the great journey about the first of Novem- 
ber, just a year after they had left New Zea- 
land. 

They had not gone far when it was proved 
that the motor sledges were useless, as the en- 
gines were not fitted for working in such in- 
tense cold. So, sorrowfully they had to leave 

95 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

them behind, and make ponies and dogs do all 
the work of hauling. 

Then began a time of storms when blizzard 
followed blizzard. It seemed that they had met 
the wild spirit of all tempests in his snowy fast- 
ness, and as if he were striving to prove that 
the will of the strongest man must give way 
before the savage force of wind and weather. 
But there was something in the soul of these 
men that could not be conquered by any hard- 
ship something that would never give up. 

11 The soul of a true man is stronger than any- 
thing that can happen to him," said Captain 
Scott. 

It seemed as if this journey was made to 
prove that. And it did prove it. 

Misfortune followed misfortune. The sturdy 
ponies could not stand the dangers. Some of 
them slipped and fell into deep chasms in the 
ice; others suffered so that the only kind thing 
was to put them out of their pain. The men 
went along then up the fearful climb across the 
glacier, with just the help of the dogs who 
pulled the sledges carrying provisions. One of 
the men became very ill, which delayed them 

96 



CAPTAIN SCOTT 

further. And ever the dreadful wind raged 
about them. 

They reached a point about 170 miles from 
the Pole on New Year's day. Here Scott de- 
cided to send two members of his party back 
with the sick man and the dog sledge. They 
were, of course, disappointed, but realized it was 
for the best. 

After leaving part of their provisions in a 
new depot to feed them on the way back, Captain 
Scott and four men, Wilson, Gates, Bowers, and 
Evans, went on the last march to the Pole with 
lighter loads which they dragged on a hand 
sledge. This is what Scott wrote in the letter 
sent back by his men : 

* * A last note from a hopeful position. I think 
it 's going to be all right. We have a fine party 
going forward and all arrangements are going 
well." 

How did the way seem to the men who still 
went on and on, now in the awful glare of the 
sun on the glistening ice, now in the teeth of a 
terrific gale? Here are some lines written by 
Wilson which may tell you something of what 
they felt: 

97 



HEEOES OF TO-DAY 

The silence was deep with a breath like sleep 
As our sledge runners slid on the snow, 

And the fateful fall of our fur-clad feet 
Struck mute like a silent blow. 

And this was the thought the silence wrought, 

As it scorched and froze us through, 
For the secrets hidden are all forbidden 

Till God means man to know. 
We might be the men God meant should know 

The heart of the Barrier snow, 
In the heat of the sun, and the glow, 

And the glare from the glistening floe, 
As it scorched and froze us through and through 

With the bite of the drifting snow. 

But still they pushed on and on, carrying sup- 
plies and their precious instruments, together 
with the records of their observations and ex- 
periences, until at last the goal was reached. 

The South Pole at last! But here after all 
they had dared and endured another great trial 
awaited them just at the moment of seeming 
success. There at the goal toward which they 
had struggled with such high hopes was a tent 
and a mound over which floated the flag of Nor- 
way. The Norse explorer, Amundsen, had 
reached the Pole first. A letter was left telling 
of his work of discovery. He had happened on 
a route shielded from the terrific winds against 

98 



CAPTAIN SCOTT 

which Scott had fought his way mile by mile, 
and had arrived at the Pole a month earlier. 

Now, indeed, Scott showed that "the soul of 
a brave man is stronger than anything that can 
happen to him." Cheerfully he built a cairn 
near the spot to hold up their Union Jack, which 
flapped sadly in the freezing air as if to re- 
proach them with not having set it as the first 
flag at the Farthest South of the earth. Then 
before they started back with the news of 
Amundsen 's success, Scott wrote these lines in 
his diary: 

"Well, we have turned our back now on the 
goal of our ambition and must face 800 miles of 
solid dragging and good-by to most of the day 
dreams." 

But it was for Scott to show the world that 
defeat might be turned into the greatest victory 
of all. When you hear any one say that a man 
is too weak or fearful to bear hardship and ill- 
success to the end, think of Captain Scott and 
say, ' ' The brave soul is stronger than anything 
that can happen." 

On he struggled, on and on, though delayed 
again and again by blizzards that raged about 

99 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

in the most terrible fury as if determined to 
make this little party give up the fight. At last 
they came, weak and nearly frozen (for the sup- 
plies of food and fuel had run short), almost 
within sight of a provision camp where com- 
fort and plenty awaited them. At this moment 
came the most terrible storm of all, that lasted 
for more than a week. 

One morning Lieutenant Oates, who was ill 
and feared that his friends might lose their last 
chance of reaching safety by staying to care 
for him, walked out into the blizzard with these 
words : 

"I am just going outside and may be some 
time." 

Scott wrote that they "realized he was walk- 
ing to his death and tried to dissuade him, but 
knew it was the act of a brave man and an Eng- 
lish gentleman. We all hope to meet the end 
with a similar spirit," he added. 

A little later Scott wrote in his diary : 

11 Every day we have been ready to start for 
our depot eleven miles away, but outside the 
door of the tent it remains a scene of whirling 
drift. I do not think we can hope for any better 

100 



CAPTAIN SCOTT 

things now. We shall stick it out to the end, 
but we are getting weaker, of course, and the end 
cannot be far." 

Eight months after when a rescue party suc- 
ceeded in reaching the tent, they found the 
bodies of Wilson and Bowers lying with their 
sleeping bags closed over their heads. Near 
them was Captain Scott, with the flaps of his 
sleeping bag thrown back. Under his shoulder 
were his note-books and letters to those at home, 
which he had written up to the very last when 
the pencil slipped from his fingers. His thought 
in dying was not for himself but for those that 
would be left to grieve. 

On the spot where they died, their friends left 
the bodies of these brave men covered with the 
canvas of their tent, and over them they piled 
up a great cairn of ice in which was placed a 
wooden cross made of snow-shoes. On the 
cross were carved these words of a great poet, 
which no one better than Captain Scott had made 
living words : 

"To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield. " 

Now we can see why this tale of Captain Scott 
101 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

is truly an undying story. As long as true 
hearts beat those words will find an echo, and 
also those other words which he so nobly proved 
by his life and death : 

"The soul of a brave man is stronger than 
anything that can happen to him. ' ' 



102 



A MODERN VIKING: JACOB BUS 



I doubt no doubts: I strive, and shrive my clay; 
And fight my fight in the patient modern way. 

SIDNEY LANIBIL 



WOULD you like to hear about a viking of 
our own time? Listen to the story of 
this Northman, and see if you will not say that 
the North Sea country can still send forth as 
staunch and fearless men as those who sailed in 
their dragon ships the " whale roads" of the 
uncharted seas, found a new world and forgot 
about it long before Columbus dreamed his 
dream. 

Near the Danish coast where the sea and the 
low-lying fields grapple hand to hand in every 
storm, and where the waves at flood tide thun- 
der against the barrows beneath which the old 
vikings were buried, is the quaint little town of 
Eibe. This is the sea's own country. It seems 
as if the people here, who never fear to go 
down to the sea in ships, have scorned to pile 
up dikes between them and their greatest friend, 
who can, in a moment of anger, prove their 
greatest enemy. It is as if they said, "We are 

105 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

of the sea; if it chooses to rise up against us, 
who are we to say, * Thus far and no farther ! ' " 

There was a boy bora in this town whose name 
was Jacob Eiis. The call of the sea-birds was 
the first sound he knew; the breath of the sea 
was like the breath of life to him. On bright, 
blue-and-gold days when the waves danced in 
rainbow hues and scattered in snowy foam, his 
heart ' ' outdid the sparkling waves in glee. ' ' At 
evening, when the sea-fogs settled down over 
the shore and land and water seemed one, some- 
thing of the thoughtful strength and patience of 
that brave little country came into his face. 

Many changes had come to the coast since the 
sea-rovers of old pulled their pirate galleys on 
the beach, took down their square, gaily striped 
sails, and gave themselves over to feasting in 
the great mead-hall, where the smoking boar's- 
flesh was taken from the leaping flames and 
seized by the flushed, triumphant warriors, 
while skalds chanted loud the joys of battle 
and plunder. The quaint little town where 
Jacob Riis lived sixty-odd years ago had noth- 
ing but the broom-covered barrows and the 
changeless ocean that belonged to those wild 

106 



times, and yet it was quite as far removed from 
the customs and interests of to-day. 

I wish that I could make you see the narrow 
cobblestone streets over which whale-oil lan- 
terns swung on creaking iron chains, and the 
quaint houses with their tiled roofs where the 
red-legged storks came in April to build their 
nests. The stillness was unbroken by the snort 
of the locomotive and the shrill clamor of steam- 
boat and steam factory whistles. The people 
still journeyed by stagecoach, carried tinder- 
boxes in place of matches, and penknives to 
mend their quill pens. The telegraph was re- 
garded with suspicion, as was the strange oil 
from Pennsylvania that was taken out of the 
earth. Such things could not be safe, and pru- 
dent people would do well to have none of them. 

In this town, where mill-wheels clattered com- 
fortably in the little stream along which roses 
nodded over old garden walls and where night- 
watchmen went about the streets chanting the 
hours, all the people were neighbors. There 
were no very rich and few very poor. How 
Jacob hated the one ramshackle old house by 
the dry moat which had surrounded the great 

107 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

castle of the mighty Valdemar barons in feudal 
days! This place seemed given over to dirt, 
rats, disease, and dirty, rat-like children. 
Jacob's friends called it Bag Hall, and said it 
was a shame that such an ugly, ill-smelling pile 
should spoil the neighborhood of Castle Hill, 
where they loved to play among the tall grass 
and swaying reeds of the moat. 

Bag Hall came to fill a large place in Jacob 's 
thoughts. It was the grim shadow of his bright 
young world. Surely the world as God had 
made it was a place of open sky, fresh life-giv- 
ing breezes, and rolling meadows of dewy, fra- 
grant greenness. How did it happen that peo- 
ple could get so far away from all that made 
life sweet and wholesome? How had they lost 
their birthright? 

As Jacob looked at the gray, dirty children 
of Bag Hall it seemed to him that they had 
never had a chance to be anything better. 
"What should I have been if I had always lived 
in such a place?" he said to himself. 

One Christmas, Jacob's father gave him a 
mark, a silver coin like our quarter, which 
was more money than the boy had ever had be- 

108 




Jaeob A. "Riis 



JACOB BUS 

fore. Now it seemed to him that he might be 
able to do something to help make things better 
in Bag Hall. He ran to the tenement to the 
room of the most miserable family who lived 
there. 

"Here," he said to a man who took the money 
as if he were stunned, "1 11 divide my Christ- 
mas mark with you, if you '11 just try to clean 
things up a bit, especially the children, and give 
them a chance to live like folks. ' ' 

The twelve-year-old boy little thought that the 
great adventure of his life really began that day 
at Bag Hall. But years after when he went 
about among the tenements of New York, trying 
to make things better for the children of Mul- 
berry Bend and Cherry Street, he remembered 
where the long journey had begun. 

It was no wonder that Christmas stirred the 
heart of this young viking, and made him long 
for real deeds. Christmas in Bibe was a time 
of joy and good-will to all. A lighted candle 
was put in the window of every farm-house to 
cheer the wayfarer with the message that no- 
body is a stranger at Christmas. Even the 
troublesome sparrows were not forgotten. A 

111 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

sheaf of rye was set up in the snow to make them 
the Christmas-tree they would like best. The 
merry Christmas elf, the "Jule-nissen," who 
lived in the attic, had a special bowl of rice and 
milk put out for him. Years afterward, when 
this Danish lad was talking to a crowd of New 
York boys and girls, he said, with a twinkle 
in his eyes : 

"I know if no one else ever really saw the 
Nissen that our black cat had made his acquaint- 
ance. She looked very wise and purred most 
knowingly next morning." 

If Christmas brought the happiest times, the 
northwest storms in autumn brought the most 
thrilling experiences of Jacob 's boyhood. Then, 
above the moaning of the wind, the muttered 
anger of the waves, and the crash of falling 
tiles, came the weird singing of the big bell in 
the tower of the Domkirke the cathedral, you 
know. 

After such a night the morning would dawn 
on a strange world where storm-lashed waves 
covered the meadows and streets for miles 
about, and on the causeway, high above the 
flood-level, cattle, sheep, rabbits, grouse, and 

112 



JACOB RIIS 

other frightened creatures of the fields huddled 
together in pitiful groups. 

One night, when the flood had risen before the 
mail-coach came in and the men of the town 
feared for the lives of the passengers, Jacob 
went out with the rescue-party to the road 
where the coach must pass. Scarcely able to 
stand against the wind, he struggled along on 
the causeway where, in pitchy blackness, with 
water to his waist and pelting spray lashing his 
face like the sting of a whip, he groped along, 
helping to lead the frightened horses to the 
lights of the town a hundred yards away. It 
was hard that night to get warmed through; 
but the boy's heart glowed, for had not the 
brusk old Amtmand, the chief official of the 
country, seized him by the arm and said, while 
rapping him smartly on the shoulders with his 
cane, as if, in other days, he would have 
knighted him, "Strong boy, be a man yet!" 

Jacob's father, who was master of the town 
school, was keenly disappointed when this alert, 
promising son declared his wish to give up the 
ways of book-learning and master the carpen- 
ter's trade. The boy felt that building houses 

113 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

for people to live in would be far better than 
juggling with words and all the unreal problems 
with which school and school-books seemed to 
deal. Thinking that it would be useless to try 
to force his son into a life distasteful to him, 
the father swallowed his disappointment and 
sent him to serve his apprenticeship with a 
great builder in Copenhagen. The boy should, 
he determined, have the best start in his chosen 
calling that it was in his power to give him. 

Soon after his arrival in the capital, Jacob 
went to meet his student brother at the palace 
of Charlottenborg, where an art exhibition was 
being held. Seeing that he was a stranger and 
ill at ease, a tall, handsome gentleman paused on 
his way up the grand staircase and offered to 
act as guide. As they went on together, the 
gentleman asked the boy about himself and lis- 
tened with ready sympathy to his eager story 
of his life in the old town, and what he hoped 
to do in the new life of the city. When they 
parted Jacob said heartily: 

" People are just the same friendly neighbors 
in Copenhagen that they are in little Eibe jolly 
good Danes everywhere, just like you, sir 1 ' 7 

114 



JACOB BUS 

The stranger smiled and patted him on the 
shoulder in a way more friendly still. Just at 
that moment they came to a door where a red- 
liveried lackey stood at attention. He bowed 
low as they entered and Jacob, bowing back, 
turned to his new friend with a delighted smile : 

11 There is another example of what I mean, 
sir," he said. "Would you believe it, now, that 
I have never seen that man before?" 

The gentleman laughed, and, pointing to a 
door, told Jacob he would find his brother there. 
While the boy happily recounted his adventures, 
particularly the story of his kindly guide, the 
handsome gentleman passed through the room 
and nodded to him with his twinkling smile. 

"There is my jolly gentleman," said Jacob, 
as he nodded back. 

His brother jumped to his feet and bowed low. 

"Good gracious!" he said, when the stranger 
had passed out. "You don't mean to say lie 
was your guide? Why, boy, that was the 
King!" 

So Jacob learned that in Denmark even a 
king, whom he had always thought of as wear- 
ing a jeweled crown and a trailing robe of vel- 

115 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

vet and ermine held by dainty silken pages, 
could go about in a plain blue overcoat like any 
other man, and be just as simple and neighborly. 

In Copenhagen the king of his fairy-book 
world was a neighbor, too. Hans Christian An- 
dersen was a familiar figure on the streets at 
that time. Jacob and his companions often met 
him walking under the lindens along the old 
earthen walls that surrounded the city. 

" Is n't he an ugly duck, though !" said Jacob 
one evening, as the awkward old man, with his 
long, ungainly neck and limbs and enormous 
hands and feet, came in sight. Then the merry 
young fellows strung themselves along in In- 
dian file, each in turn bowing low as he passed, 
and saying with mock reverence, "Good eve- 
ning, Herr Professor!" 

But when the gentle old man, with the child's 
heart, seized their hands in his great grasp and 
thanked them delightedly, they slunk by shame- 
facedly, and, while they chuckled a little, avoided 
meeting each other's eyes. For in their hearts 
they loved the old man whose stories had 
charmed their childhood, and they knew that the 

116 



JACOB RIIS 

spirit within the lank, awkward body was alto- 
gether lovely. 

All the time that Jacob was working with 
hammer and saw, he was, like that first Jacob 
of whom we read, serving for his Rachel. From 
the time he was a clumsy lad of twelve he knew 
that his playmate Elizabeth, with the golden 
curls and the fair, gentle looks, was the princess 
of his own fairy-tale. Like all good fairy-tales, 
it simply had to turn out happily. 

When his apprenticeship was over and he had 
learned all about building houses for people to 
live in, he hurried at once to Ribe to build his 
own house. It seemed, however, that nobody 
realized that he was the hero who was to marry 
the princess. Why, Elizabeth's father owned 
the one factory in town, and they lived in a big 
house, which some people called a "castle." 
Small chance that he would let his pretty daugh- 
ter marry a carpenter! 

Since working faithfully for long, busy years 
had not brought him to his goal, Jacob threw 
aside his tools and decided to seek his fortune 
in a new country. In America, surely, a true 

117 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

man might come into his own. The days of high 
adventure were not dead. He would win fame 
and fortune, and then return in triumph to the 
old town and to Elizabeth. 

It was a beautiful spring morning surely a 
prophecy of fair beginnings when this young 
viking sailed into New York Harbor. The 
dauntless Northmen, who pushed across the 
seas and discovered America, could not have 
thrilled more at the sight of their Vineland than 
did this Dane of our own day when he saw the 
sky-line of the great city. This must indeed be 
a new world of opportunity for strong men. 

It took only a day of wandering about the 
crowded streets, however, to convince this 
seeker that a golden chance is as hard to find in 
the New York of to-day as gold was in those 
disillusioning days of the early explorers. The 
golden chance, it seemed, was to be won, if at 
all, as is the precious metal only after intel 
ligent prospecting and patient digging. 

How utterly alone he felt in that crowd of 
hurrying strangers ! Very different it all was 
from his cozy little country where every one was 
a neighbor, even the king himself. 

118 






The Jacob A. Riis settlement, Henry Street, New York 



JACOB KIIS 

Out of sheer loneliness and the desire to be- 
long to somebody he threw in his lot with a 
gang of men who were being gathered together 
to work in a mining-camp on the Allegheny 
River. Perhaps the West was his Promised 
Land, and Pennsylvania would be a start on the 
way. 

The young carpenter was set to work building 
houses for the workers in the mines. He could 
not content himself, however, in this shut-in 
country. To one used to the vastness of a level 
land stretching as far as eye could see, it seemed 
as if the hills and forests hedged him in on 
every side as if he could not breathe. To ease 
the restlessness of his homesick spirit, he de- 
termined to try his fortune at coal-mining. 
One day was enough of that. In his inexperi- 
ence he failed to brace the roof properly, and a 
great piece of rock came down on him, knocking 
the lamp from his cap and leaving him stunned 
and in utter darkness. When at last he suc- 
ceeded in groping his way out, it was as if he 
had come back from the dead. The daylight 
had never before seemed so precious. Nothing 
could have induced him to try coal-mining again. 

121 



HEEOES OF TO-DAY 

At this time, 1870, news came of the war be- 
tween Germany and France. It was expected, 
moreover, that Denmark would come to the as- 
sistance of the French, since only a few years 
before, in 1864, Germany had seized some of the 
choicest territory of the little North Sea king- 
dom Schleswig-Holstein, the section through 
which the important Kiel Canal has been 
built. Every Dane longed to avenge the wrong. 
Jacob Kiis at once left his tools and his work. 
He would win glory as a soldier. 

He reached New York with but a single cent 
in his pocket, only to find that no one was fitting 
out volunteer companies to send to France. 
Here he was longing to offer his life for the 
cause, and it was treated like a worthless trifle. 
Clothes and every cherished possession that his 
little trunk contained were soon pawned to pay 
for food and a roof over his head. 

There followed months when the young man 
wandered about the great city, homeless, 
hungry, vainly seeking employment. Too proud 
to beg, he yet accepted night after night a plate 
of meat and rolls which a French cook in a 
large restaurant handed him from a basement 

122 



JACOB RIIS 

window. It seemed as if that was a part of the 
debt France owed her would-be soldier. 

He was part of a weary army of discouraged 
men hunting for work. He knew what it meant 
to sleep on park benches, in doorways, in empty 
wagons, and even on the flat stone slabs of a 
graveyard. There were, in New York, friends 
of his family who might have helped him, but 
he was too proud to make himself known in his 
present sorry plight. He even destroyed the 
letters to them, lest in a moment of weakness 
he might be tempted to appeal to their charity. 

This time of hardship, however, was destined 
to bear fruit. Jacob Biis came to know the 
shadows of the great city all the miserable al- 
leys and narrow courts of the East Side slums. 
Then and there, weak and starving though 
he was, the boy who had given his Christmas 
money to help Rag Hall vowed that he would 
some day work to remove those plague-spots 
from the city's life. "How true it is," he said, 
' 'that one half of the world doesn't know how 
the other half lives I If they only knew, things 
would be different." 

At last the chance for which he had been long- 
123 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

ing came. Hearing that a new reporter was 
wanted by the News Association, he applied for 
the position. After looking the haggard ap- 
plicant over for a moment doubtfully, the edi- 
tor was moved to give him a trial. The starv- 
ing man was sent to report a political banquet. 
When he turned in his "copy" at the office 
the editor said briefly: 

"You will do. Take that desk and report at 
ten every morning, sharp." 

So began his life as a reporter. 

Perhaps you know something of his success as 
a newspaper man. He knew how to gather 
news ; and he knew how to find the words that 
make bare facts live. The days and nights of 
privation had been rich in experience. He was 
truly "a part of all that he had met." Some- 
thing of his intimate acquaintance with all sorts 
and conditions of existence, something of his 
warm, understanding sympathy for every vari- 
ety of human joy and sorrow, crept into his 
work. Besides, the young man had boundless 
enthusiasm and tireless industry. 

"That chap just seems to eat work," said his 
fellow-reporters. 

124 



JACOB BUS 

One day a very special letter came from Den- 
mark, which told him that his gentle Elizabeth 
was quite convinced that he was indeed the 
prince of her life story. So, as it turned out, he 
didn't have to make a fortune before he was 
able to bring her to share his home in New York. 
With her it seemed that he brought the best of 
the old life into the new 

Brought the moonlight, starlight, firelight, 
Brought the sunshine of his people. 

The only homesick times that he knew now 
were the days when his work as a reporter took 
him to the streets of the miserable tenements. 
All his soul cried out against these places where 
the poor, the weak, and the wicked, the old, the 
sick, and helpless babies were all herded to- 
gether in damp, dingy rooms where the purify- 
ing sunlight never entered. During his years 
of wandering in search of work he had gained 
an intimate knowledge of such conditions. He 
knew what poverty meant and how it felt. 
Afterward, when he saw this hideous squalor, he 
shared it. These people were his neighbors. 

"Over against the tenements of our cities," 
he said, "ever rise in my mind the fields, the 

125 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

woods, God's open sky, as accusers and wit- 
nesses that his temple is being defiled and man 
dwarfed in body and soul." 

He knew that the one way to remove such 
evils and to force people to put up decent houses 
for the poor was to bring the facts out in the 
open. When he described what he had seen, the 
words seemed to mean little to many of the 
people that he wanted to reach. Then he hit 
upon the plan of taking pictures. These pic- 
tures served to illustrate some very direct talks 
he gave in the churches. Later, many of them 
made an important part of his book, "How the 
Other Half Lives." 

" These people are your neighbors," said 
Jacob Eiis. "It is the business of the fortunate 
half of those who live in our great cities to find 
out how the other half lives. No one can live to 
himself or die to himself 

If you will not grub for your neighbor's weeds, 
In your own green garden you '11 find the seeds.' " 

Through his persistent campaigning, one of 
the very worst parts of New York, known as 
Mulberry Bend, a veritable network of alleys 

126 



JACOB RIIS 

which gave hiding to misery and crime untold, 
was bought by the city, the buildings torn down, 
and the spot converted into a public park. 

Several years later, when Eoosevelt was 
President, he asked Mr. Riis to investigate the 
conditions of streets and alleys in Washington. 
It developed that within three squares of the 
Capitol there was a system of alleys honey- 
combing a single block where a thousand people 
were crowded together under conditions that 
made a hotbed of misery, crime, and disease. 
The good citizens of the National Capital, who 
had read with horror about the evils of New 
York and Chicago, were rudely shaken out of 
their self-complacency. That square is now one 
of Washington's parks. 

Jacob Riis early learned the power of facts. 
His training as a reporter taught him that. He 
was also willing to Work early and late, when 
the need arose, to gather them. At one time 
when there was a cholera scare in New York, he 
happened to look over the Health Department 
analysis of the water from the Croton River, 
and noticed that it was said to contain "a trace 
of nitrites. " 

127 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

"What does that mean!" he asked of the 
chemist. 

The reply was more learned than enlighten- 
ing. The reporter was not satisfied. He car- 
ried his inquiry farther and discovered that 
"nitrites'* meant that the water had been con- 
taminated by sewage from towns above New 
York. Riis then took his camera and explored 
not only the Croton River to its source, but also 
every stream that emptied into it, taking pic- 
tures that proved in the most convincing way 
the dangers of the city. As a result, money 
was appropriated to buy a strip of land along 
the streams, wide enough to protect the people's 
water-supply. 

Another great work that Jacob Riis was en- 
abled to carry through had its beginnings in that 
stormy chapter of his life when he found him- 
self a vagrant among vagrants. He learned at 
first hand what the police lodging-houses for the 
homeless were like. At that time this charity 
was left in the hands of the police, who had 
neither the ability nor the desire to handle these 
cases wisely and humanely and to meet the prob- 
lems of helping people to help themselves. 

128 



Jacob Kiis worked shoulder to shoulder with 
Theodore Eoosevelt, who was then police com- 
missioner of New York, to make the organized 
charity of the city an intelligent agency for re- 
lieving suffering and putting on their feet again 
those who were, for some reason, "down and 
out." Many were brought back to wholesome 
living through the realization that they had 
* * neighbors ' ' who cared. 

In the same way he worked for parks and 
playgrounds for the children. He saw that the 
city spoils much good human material. 

"We talk a great deal about city toughs," he 
says in his autobiography. "In nine cases out 
of ten they are lads of normal impulses whose 
possibilities have all been smothered by the 
slum. With better opportunities they might 
have been heroes." 

Many honors came to Jacob Ens. He was 
known as a "boss reporter"; his books gave 
him a nation-wide fame; the King of Denmark 
sent him the Crusaders' Cross, the greatest 
honor his native land could bestow; President 
Eoosevelt called him the "most useful Ameri- 
can" of his day. But I think what meant more 

129 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

to him than any or all of these things was the 
real affection of his many "neighbors," espe- 
cially the children. 

Many times he gathered together beys and 
girls from the streets to enjoy a day with him in 
the country. 

"This will help until we can give them trees 
and grass in their slum," he would say, "and 
then there will be no slum." His eyes grew 
very tender as he added, ' ' No, there will be no 
slum ; it will be a true City Beautiful and the 
fairest blossoms there will be the children." 

Biis called the story of his life, * ' The Making 
of an American." While his life was in the 
making he helped to make many others. He 
was in truth a maker of Americans. 

Do you not think that he lived a life as truly 
adventurous as the vikings of old this viking 
of our own day? They lived for deeds of dar- 
ing and plunder; he lived for deeds every whit 
as brave and for service. 



130 



A PIONEER OF THE OPEN: 
EDWARD L. TEUDEAU 



Oh, toiling hands of mortals! Oh, unwearied feet, 
traveling ye know not whither! Soon, soon, it seems to 
you, you must come forth on some conspicuous hilltop, and 
but a little way further, against the setting sun, descry 
the spires of El Dorado. Little do ye know your own 
blessedness; for to travel hopefully is a better thing than 
to arrive, and the true success is to labor. 

STEVENSON: El Dorado. 



A PIONEER OF THE OPEN 

WHEN you read in your history the stories 
of the men who discovered America, did 
you ever think that not one of them found that 
for which he searched when he sailed unknown 
seas and braved the perils of an unbroken wil- 
derness? Columbus tried to find a sea-way to 
the Indies, and stumbled upon a new world. 
Henry Hudson, in seeking a short cut to the 
Pacific, found New York. De Soto, hunting in 
vain for gold, was little comforted by the sight 
of the muddy waters of the Mississippi. And 
so with Ponce de Leon, Balboa, La Salle, and 
all the rest. Each journeyed in search of one 
thing and found another. 

Nor did any of these discoverers know what 
he had found. De Soto had no vision of great 
plains of golden grain, food for millions of 
men, along the shores of his river. Henry Hud- 
son never dreamed of the city of New York. 
These men only blazed the trail. It was for 

133 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

those who came after to understand and use 
what they had found. 

Each year men were finding, and helping oth- 
ers to find, a new land. Some of these men 
were the pioneers who cleared the ground and 
planted farms ; some were those who built roads 
and bridges; some were those who took iron, 
coal, and oil from the ground ; some were those 
who taught the children of the new land in the 
little bare school-houses. All of these people 
helped to discover our America, 

Did you know that the work of discovery is 
still going on? Ten years from now many 
changes will have come to pass; in a hundred 
years a new world will have been found. 

This is the story of one of the greatest discov- 
erers of our day the story of a man who found 
a new world in the North Woods of New York. 
But like the other discoverers, he searched for 
one thing and found another, and he spent many 
years of patient work in trying to understand 
and use in the best way what he had found. 

Edward Livingston Trudeau was born with 
a love of the woods and the life of the open. 

134 



EDWARD L. TRUDEAU 

In Ms father, Dr. James Trudeau, the call of 
the wild was so strong that again and again 
he would leave the city and his work to lose 
himself in the great forests of the West far 
from the world of men. He used to say that it 
was only when he could lose himself in this way 
that he seemed to find himself. Once he lived 
for two years with the Osage Indians, learning 
their woodcraft and their skill in riding and 
hunting. In 1841 he went with Fremont, the 
explorer, on his great expedition to the Rocky 
Mountains. And it was never hard for his 
friend Audubon, the famous naturalist, to per- 
suade him to shut up his office and fare forth 
with him into the wilds. He was always rest- 
less and ill at ease within walls ; only when out 
under the open sky did he feel fully alive. 

Of course, this uncertain, wandering life 
ruined his chances of success in his profession. 
He gave up his office in New York, and, leaving 
his children with their grandfather, returned to 
his earlier home in New Orleans, thinking that 
perhaps it would be easier to settle down there 
to a more regular and ordered life. But he was 

135 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

never able to resist for long at a time the crav- 
ing for the freedom of the great outdoors. 

Edward Trudeau's childhood was spent in 
large cities New York first, and then Paris; 
he never knew his father, and yet he shared his 
strong love for a wild, outdoor life. He used 
often to say that it was strange how the trait 
which in his father had wrecked his career as a 
physician saved the life of his son, at a time 
when he was so ill that he could live only in 
the open air, and really led to his success as a 
doctor by showing him that fresh air and sun- 
shine are often a sure cure where medicines 
fail. 

Did you know that only a very few years ago 
many people were afraid to open their win- 
dows? That was the time when so many were 
dying of tuberculosis that it was called "the 
great white plague." It was as mysterious and 
terrible as the Black Death, which, we read, once 
carried off half the people of England, because 
this "white plague" was an enemy that never 
withdrew. No one knew what caused the 
trouble, but they thought it must be due to a 
chill of some kind, so they carefully shut out 

136 ' 



EDWARD L. TRUDEAU 

the fresh air. Every child to-day knows that 
they were shutting out the one thing that could 
cure them. But do you know that it was Ed- 
ward Trudeau who taught us that? He was 
really the discoverer of the importance of fresh 
air as a cure for many ills, and, still better, as a 
means of keeping well. Besides this, he lived 
the life of a true hero. Listen to his story and 
see if you will not say with me that his was as 
brave a fight as that of any hero of battle. And 
his victory was one in which the whole world 
has a share. 

Though Edward Trudeau was born with his 
father's love of the open, most of his early life, 
as we have said, was spent in big cities. When 
he was a child of three, his grandfather, Dr. 
Berger, a French physician who had earned re- 
nown not only in his own country but also in 
New York, took him and his older brother to 
Paris, where they lived for fifteen years. Here 
he was like a wood-bird in a cage, looking at a 
strange life and strange people through the 
bars. 

Sometimes the bits of life he saw were very 
gay and fascinating, for this was the time of 

137 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

the Second Empire, when the capital was al- 
ways a-flutter over some occasion of royal pomp 
or brilliant celebration. Napoleon III (whom 
Victor Hugo wittily dubbed "Napoleon the Lit- 
tle" in contrast with his uncle, Napoleon the 
Great) tried to make the splendor and glitter of 
extravagant display take the place of the true 
glory of great deeds. One of his ' ' big brass gen- 
erals," who was always quite dazzling in gold 
lace and gleaming decorations, lived on the first 
floor, immediately below Dr.Berger's apart- 
ment, and Edward Trudeau felt, as he watched 
from the window this ideal figure of military 
power dash up to the porte-cochere on his spir- 
ited horse, all splendid, too, in gold trappings, 
that here truly was one of the great race of 
heroes. He trembled with delight when the 
great man took notice of his small, hero-worship- 
ing self, and they became friends after a fash- 
ion. But General Bazaine was, as events 
proved, much more within his capabilities when 
sitting tall on a prancing, gold-caparisoned 
horse at a royal review of the troops than when 
leading the forces of France against the German 
army. When the Franco-Prussian War came in 

138 



EDWARD L. TRUDEAU 

1870 it was largely through his tactical blunders, 
and cowardly treachery, perhaps, that Sedan 
was surrounded and the French army obliged to 
surrender to the victorious Germans. When 
Edward Trudeau read in the papers the news of 
the French defeat his heart was sad over the fall 
of his boyish idol, but the truth entered his soul 
that the real victors of real battles are not al- 
ways those magnificent ones who look most un- 
conquerable. 

Another vivid memory of his childhood days 
in Paris brought home the same truth. One 
day, as he watched at the window, he was thrilled 
to see a gorgeous equerry from the Palais Royal 
ride up in state to his door and hand a parcel to 
the butler. This package, he learned, contained 
the Cross of the Legion of Honor which the em- 
peror had sent to his grandfather. Afterward, 
he noticed that his grandfather always wore a 
little red ribbon in his buttonhole. But when 
the small boy questioned him in regard to the 
reason for his wearing the decoration, he only 
smiled quizzically and said, "Pour faire parler 
les curieux, mon enfant" ("To give the curious 
a chance to talk, my child"). As for himself, 

139 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

this modest French physician preferred to let 
his deeds alone speak of what he had done. 

The small boy who could scarcely remember 
the time when he did not live in France and 
whose relatives were all French did not forget 
for a moment that he was an American. The 
toy boats which he sailed in the fountains of the 
Tuileries all bore the Stars and Stripes. And 
his favorite playmates at the Lycee Bonaparte, 
where he went to school, were hardy American 
boys whose parents were living in Paris. 

During the years at the French school the 
vague, inner yearning for a freer, more natural 
life, found vent in many pranks and covert rebel- 
lion not only against the class routine, but also, 
more openly, against the established order of 
things on the playground. Here some of the 
delicately aristocratic French boys were much 
disconcerted by the blunt and wholly effectual 
way in which Edward Trudeau and his chums, 
the Livingston lads, settled questions by argu- 
ment straight from the shoulder. 

When he returned to New York at eighteen, 
Edward could speak only broken English, but 
he felt so truly American that he wondered why 

140 



EDWARD L. TEUDEAU 

his cousins laughed when he said, "Ze English 
is so hard a language to prononciate. ' ' 

Then came his " wander years" in which he 
tried, with a deep, unsatisfied longing after he 
knew not what, to find his proper niche in life. 
Something of the memory of the stirring day 
when the American lads in Paris had thrilled 
over the news of the capture of the privateer 
Alabama by the United States cruiser Kearsage 
off the coast of France led him to think that he 
wanted to enter the Navy. So he went to a pre- 
paratory school at Newport, as the United 
States Naval Academy had been, on account of 
the war, removed from Annapolis to that city, 
together with the historic old ship Constitution, 
which furnished quarters for the cadets. 

At the very moment when he was prepared to 
enter the academy, Fate decided otherwise. His 
only brother, Francis, whose delicate health had 
always been a cause of much anxiety, became 
alarmingly ill. Though Edward was several 
years younger, he had always, as far back as 
he could remember, tried, at school and on the 
playground, to take care of this frail brother. 
He learned to know by the signs of the paling 

141 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

face and blue lips when the weak heart was 
missing its proper beat, and he was always at 
hand to say: "Steady, old fellow, steady! 
Let 's drop out of the game and rest up a bit." 

Most of the thrashings that he had dealt out 
to the school bullies were given on his brother's 
account. But if Frank was not able to hold his 
own when it came to fisticuffs, in other encoun- 
ters Edward learned to rely on the strong char- 
acter and high ideals of this brother, who 
seemed a tower of strength when it came to 
battles of the spirit against doubts, fears, and 
wild gusts of temptation. 

Now these two, who were so closely united by 
the strong double bond of mutual dependence 
and protection, had come to the great parting 
of the ways. The white plague had Francis in 
its terrible grip. During the last months of the 
hopeless struggle Edward watched with him 
night and day, drinking strong green tea to keep 
himself awake, and, by the doctor 's orders, care- 
fully keeping all the windows closed, since the 
outside air was supposed to aggravate the pain- 
ful cough. 

The man who was to cure many by the simple 
142 



EDWARD L. TRUDEAU 

means of fresh air learned his first lesson in 
that sick-room where he watched the one he 
loved best struggle for breath, and where he 
himself caught the seeds of the dread disease. 
This first great sorrow was really the first stage 
on his great journey of discovery the discov- 
ery of a new world of life, restored to many who 
believed that they were nearing the "Valley 
named of the Shadow. " But how often is it 
true that the seeker after El Dorado searches 
for one thing and finds another. How often 
must the fortunate ones who at last arrive at the 
great goal travel by ways they know not. 

Edward Trudeau had not yet found his life- 
work. He studied for a few months at the 
school of mines before he realized that he was 
not destined to be an engineer. This was but 
one of many false starts. Indeed, his early 
path was strewed with so many bits of wreck- 
age from his spasmodic trials and failures that 
when one of his friends announced to a group at 
the Union Club that he had entered the Col- 
lege of Physicians and Surgeons, a fellow-mem- 
ber said, "I bet five hundred dollars he never 
graduates." And not one of the companions 

143 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

who knew and loved him so well was ready to 
take up the bet. 

These merry companions of his youth, who 
thought they knew Edward Trudeau better than 
he knew himself, loved him well; for he ever 
had the gift of friendship with man and beast. 
Dogs and horses at once felt his comprehending 
hand and heart. And as for the human kind 
were they great masters of finance like Edward 
H. Harriman, gay young men about town like 
the Livingstons, or sturdy mountain guides like 
Paul Smith and Fitz-Greene Halleck all and 
each were not only boon companions when the 
opportunity served, but lifelong friends whom 
neither time nor circumstance could change. 
When Dr. Trudeau used to say with feeling, 
"No one ever had better friends than I have," 
we always thought, as we looked into his kindly 
eyes, so alive with understanding sympathy and 
ready cheer, "How true it is that the best way 
to win a friend is to be one. ' ' 

The best friend of all from beginning to end, 
however, was Miss Charlotte Beare, who be- 
came his wife as soon as he had graduated from 
the medical school and had spent six months as 

144 




riu,ii, tin i I'm. />, 



Edward L. Trudeau 



EDWAED L. TEUDEAU 

house physician in The Strangers' Hospital. 
When he wrote, toward the close of his life, a 
record of what his experiences had meant, he 
gave the book this dedication: 

TO MY DEAR WIFE 

EVER AT MY SIDE 

EVER CHEERFUL AND HOPEFUL AND HELPFUL 
THROUGH THESE LONG YEARS 
DURING WHICH 
"PLEASURE AND PAIN 
HAVE FOLLOWED EACH OTHER 
LIKE SUNSHINE AND RAIN." 

It was through his love for her, he said, that 
he was able to keep steadily at work during his 
college days, when close application to study 
and the confinement of city life were telling not 
only upon his health but also wearing away the 
inner soul that ever craved, with a deeper and 
more poignant longing, the freedom of open 
spaces and the breath of the life-giving woods. 

It was a very different story from those light- 
hearted, familiar ones where "they married and 
lived happily ever after." The rain followed 
the sunshine very soon after the young doctor 
had returned from his wedding-trip and set- 
tled down to practice in New York. After 

147 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

months of struggle against what he thought was 
a sort of stubborn malaria, together with the old 
rebellion against a shut-in life, the doctor who 
had worked so bravely to fit himself to cure 
others came face to face with the truth that he 
himself had a disease which no doctor could 
cure. The world seemed dark indeed when he 
thought he must soon leave his loved wife, the 
little Charlotte and baby Ned, and all that he 
had hoped to accomplish in the future. 

He little realized that he had but reached the 
second stage in the journey that was to prepare 
him in a way he could not understand to be the 
1 'Beloved Physician,'* one destined to save 
many who, like him, had met death face to face 
and trembled before the thought of separation 
from those they loved. 

A faint light s*eemed to shine in the blackness 
of the night that had closed about him when 
the resolve came to go away from the city into 
the still woods where he had felt the keenest 
joy in "mere living" on brief hunting-trips 
to the Adirondacks. His dear wife should be 
spared seeing the terrible, hopeless fight, and he 
should before the end have a bit of that free 

148 



EDWARD L. TRUDEAU 

life for which his tired spirit longed. And so, 
though it meant separation, perhaps forever, 
from those he loved best, he prepared to go to 
Paul Smith's hunting-lodge, which was forty- 
two miles from the nearest railroad in the heart 
of a still country of mountain lakes and vast, 
untroubled forest. 

It took three days for the sick man to make 
the journey. His friend Lou Livingston, who 
accompanied him, tried in vain to persuade him 
to give up going to such a rough, remote place. 
A mattress and pillows were arranged in the 
two-horse stage, in which they had to travel 
the forty-two miles of rough mountain road to 
the hunting-lodge, and the sick man was made 
as comfortable as possible; but when at sun- 
set he caught sight of the house through the 
pines he was too weak with fever and the jolt- 
ing of the long trip to stand or walk. A 
hearty, mountain guide picked him up as if he 
had been an infant, carried him up to his room, 
and, as he laid him on his bed, remarked com- 
fortingly : 

"That 's nothing, Doctor! You don't weigh 
no more than a dried lambskin." 

149 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

The invalid might well have been depressed 
by these words, but the magic of the country 
had already begun its work. He ate a hearty 
meal with the keenest relish he had known in 
weeks and fell asleep like a tired child. 

"When I thought I had come to the end, it 
proved but the turn in the road," said Dr. Tru- 
deau. "I went to the mountains to die I 
found there the beginning of a new life." 

As the weeks passed and left him not losing 
ground, but actually gaining day by day, the 
truth gradually dawned upon him that fresh air 
and rest were doing what doctors despaired 
of. 

After proving what a few months could ac- 
complish, and finding that even a short visit 
to his home meant an alarming setback, Dr. Tru- 
deau and his wife decided that they must go 
to the mountain country to live. Can you im- 
agine what spending a winter in the Adiron- 
dacks meant at that time, when the only houses 
were hunting-lodges and the cabins of the 
guides'? Once, when making the journey to 
their winter quarters, the family was caught in 
a blizzard. When the sweat of their struggling 

150 



ED WARD L. TRUDEAU 

horses was turned to a firm casing of ice and 
they all had hard work to keep faces and ears 
from freezing, they left the cutter, put blankets 
on the horses, wrapped the children in buffalo- 
robes and buried them in the snow, while the 
men tramped ahead and made a track up the hill 
for the weary horses. At last, when it was 
clear that the animals could go no farther, Paul 
Smith set off to the hut of a guide for fresh 
horses. As he left the little family buried in 
the snow, he said with his hearty laugh which 
seemed to put new life in the anxious travelers : 

"Doctor, don't you know Napoleon said, 'The 
dark regions of Russia is only fit for Russians to 
inhabit' f" 

Altogether these Napoleons were three days 
making the journey through the snow to their 
winter haven at Paul Smith's hunting-lodge. 

For several years Dr. Trudeau lived with his 
family in this wilderness where he had found 
health and happiness. His skill as a physician 
was given mostly to caring for the lumbermen 
and guides for miles about and for their dogs 
and horses. Of course there were, too, the peo- 
ple of the summer camps. And the story of 

151 



HEROES OP TO-DAY 

his cure led a New York doctor to send a few 
patients to try the same life. The number of 
these people increased, and gradually the col- 
ony of health-seekers began to grow. 

One day, when Dr. Trudeau was on the side 
of Mount Pisgah, near Saranac Lake, he fell 
asleep w'hile leaning on his gun and dreamed 
a dream. He saw as in a vision the forest on 
the shore of the lake melt away, and the whole 
slope covered with houses, built, as it were, in- 
side out, so that most of the life of the people 
could go on in the open. As he said years later, 
when he was making an address at the twenty- 
fifth anniversary of the building of the Adiron- 
dack Cottage Sanitarium at Saranac Lake, "I 
dreamed a dream of a great sanitarium that 
should be the everlasting foe of tuberculosis, 
and lo, the dream has come true ! ' ' 

But Dr. Trudeau was a man who knew that, 
if good dreams are to come true, one must have 
the faith to pray as if there were no such thing 
as work, and the steady resolution to work as 
if there were no such thing as prayer. Much 
faith and much hard work went into the begin- 

152 



EDWAED L. TRUDEAU 

nings of that City of the Sick near Lake Sar- 
anac. 

There was the time of small things, when the 
chosen spot, with its scant grass and huge boul- 
ders, looked more like a pasture for goats than 
a building-site. Faith, however, can not only 
move mountains, it can turn them into building 
material ; faith, too, can move the hearts of men 
and make many work together as one for a great 
cause. The guides whose families the Beloved 
Physician had tended without price gave six- 
teen acres on the sheltered plateau where he 
had seen his dream city arise. 

"We shall build not a great hospital where 
many are herded together, but cottages where 
those who seek refuge here may each have his 
zone of pure air and something of the rest 
and freedom of home," said Dr. Trudeau. He 
talked to his friends, he talked to friends of 
his friends to all who would pause in their 
busy lives to listen. His glowing faith kin- 
dled enthusiasm in other hearts. Day by day, 
not only through the large gifts of the few who 
could give much, but also through the small 

153 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

gifts of the many who could give but little, the 
fund grew. The doctor 's dream became a reality. 

When we hear the stories of the heroes of old 
the men of might, the grand of soul does it 
seem as if our little day gives no chance for 
great deeds ? Look at the Beloved Physician of 
Saranac, with his frail body, his cheerful smile, 
his unconquerable hope. See him going about 
with loving care among those whom life seemed 
to have broken and cast aside. See him in his 
little laboratory struggling hour after hour, 
through weeks and months and years, with no 
apparatus save that of his own contriving, with 
no training in scientific method, to lure the 
germs of the white plague within the field of his 
microscope, and force them to give up the secret 
of their terrible power. Surely there is no 
heroism greater than that of such brave, patient 
labor against all odds, against all ills, in spite 
of sorrow and loss and the fear of failure. 

I like to picture this hero, with his genius for 
taking pains, at work over his test-tubes when 
his famous patient, Robert Louis Stevenson, 
came to visit the laboratory. Dr. Trudeau 
held out a little tube of liquid with the words, 

154 




The first of the sanitarium cottages built in 188."5; known as 
"The Little Bed " 



EDWARD L. TRUDEAU 

"Here is our enemy fairly entrapped at last. 
This little scum is consumption, the cause of 
more human suffering than anything else.'* 

The discoverer of "Treasure Island " turned 
pale with disgust and backed out of the labora- 
tory with these words, "Yes, Doctor, I know 
you have a lantern at your belt, but I don't like 
the smell of your oil!" 

The brilliant imagination of the great writer 
failed to understand the steady light of the im- 
agination that seeks patiently after scientific 
truth in spite of discouragements and years of 
fruitless work. 

In the last public address which Trudeau 
made, in 1910, before a gathering of physicians 
and surgeons, he said these words which show 
that he had caught the gleam of Stevenson's lan- 
tern: 

Let us not quench our faith nor turn from the vision 
which, whether we own it or not, we carry, as Stevenson's 
lantern-bearers, hidden from the outer world; and, thus in- 
spired, many will reach the goal ; and if for most of us our 
achievements must fall short of our ideals, if, when age 
and infirmity overtake us, we come not within sight of the 
castle of our dreams, nevertheless, all will be well with us; 
for, as Stevenson tells us rightly, "to travel hopefully is 
better than to arrive, and the true success is to labor." 

157 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

One of Trudeau's most cherished possessions 
was a fine copy in bronze of Mercie's statue 
''Gloria Victis," given him by one of his pa- 
tients. The sculptor created this statue in 1871, 
after the crushing blow inflicted on France by 
the German arms, to console and inspire the 
French people with the hope of triumph 
through defeat. It shows a young gladiator 
who has received his death-wound while facing 
the foe, lifted up and borne onward by a splen- 
did Victory with outstretched wings. He has 
fought the fight and still holds his sword in his 
lifeless hand. In losing his life he wins his vic- 
tory, that of one of the * 'faithful failures" who 
marched toward the new day whose dawn is not 
for them but for those who come after. 

Dr. Trudeau, ever in the grip of the enemy 
that could be held at bay, but never conquered, 
labored year after year to save the lives of 
others. Many he was able to cure through rest 
and the life-giving air of the place he had found 
and made to be the battle-ground against tuber- 
culosis. In many more he succeeded in arrest- 
ing the disease and giving years of useful life, 
with restrictions days and nights in the open, 

158 



EDWARD L. TRUDEAU 

eternal watchfulness. And always, so condi- 
tioned himself, he worked, while often laboring 
for every breath he drew, to find the real cure 
a something that would be able to destroy the 
terrible germs. He never lived to find it, but 
he prepared the way for others, who will go on 
with his work and carry it to success. 

Shortly before his death, in November, 1915, 
Dr. Trudeau tried to explain what the statue 
"Gloria Victis" had meant to him: 

"It typifies," he said, "many victories I have 
seen won in Saranac Lake by those whom I had 
learned to love ; the victory of the spirit over the 
body ; the victories that demand acquiescence in 
worldly failure, and in the supreme sacrifice of 
life itself as a part of their achievement; the 
victory of the Nazarene, which ever speaks its 
great message to the ages." 



159 



1 'THE PROPHET-ENGINEER": 
GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 



A man went down to Panama, 

Where many a man had died, 
To slit the sliding mountains 

And lift the eternal tide: 
A man stood up in Panama, 

And the mountains stood aside. 

PERCY MAC KATE. 



"THE PBOPHET-ENGINEER" 

WHEN a boy has a name like George 
Washington Goethals he must have 
something out of the ordinary about him to let 
it pass with his companions on the playground. 
Should he prove a weakling, should the other 
boys discover any flaw in the armor of his self- 
confidence, such a name would be a mockery 
and a misfortune. 

Is there any one who cannot recall certain 
rarely uncomfortable moments of his childhood 
when he wished that the fates had provided him 
with a Christian name that the other chaps 
could n't send back and forth like a shuttlecock, 
with a new derisive turn at each toss? One 
expects to endure a certain amount of * ' Georgie 
Porgie" nonsense, which has the excuse of 
rime if not of reason, but when one also has 
a last name that nobody ever heard of before, 
he finds himself wishing sometimes that he had 
been born a Johnson or a Smith. 

163 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

"I don't believe that I quite like our name," 
remarked little George Goethals in the confi- 
dence of the family circle one evening. "It is 
a bit queer, isn't it?" 

"It 's a name to be proud of, son," was the 
reply. "It 's a name to live up to. For more 
than a thousand years it has been borne by 
strong, brave men. It belongs to the history 
of more than one country and century, and the 
way it was won makes a pretty story. ' ' 

"Tell me the story!" begged the boy, breath- 
lessly, his eyes dark with interest. 

"In the days when knights were bold, a man 
named Honorius, whose courage was as finely 
tempered as his sword, went with the Duke of 
Burgundy from Italy into France. In a fierce 
battle with the Saracens he received a terrible 
blow on the neck which would have felled most 
men to the ground, but his strength and steel 
withstood the shock and won for him a nick- 
name of honor Boni Coli (good neck). Later, 
when he was rewarded for his valor by a grant 
of land in the north country which is now Hol- 
land and Belgium, this name was changed after 
the Dutch fashion into Goet Hals (good or stiff 

164 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

neck), and became the family name of all that 
man's descendants, who made it an honored 
name in Holland. When your ancestors came 
to America they hoped that it would become 
an honored name in the new country, and it 
must be your part to help bring that to pass. ' ' 

The boy's eyes grew thoughtful. "For more 
than a thousand years it has been the name of 
brave men," he repeated to himself. "But it is 
an American name now, isn't it?" he added 
anxiously. 

"Yes, son, it is just as American as it can be 
made," his father returned with a laugh. "We 
call it Go'thals, there is nothing more truly 
American than a thing that has go, you know, 
and we 've given you the name of the first Amer- 
ican to go with it. ' ' 

"I '11 show that an American Goethals can 
be as brave as any Dutch one," George boasted. 

"Strong hearts and brave deeds speak for 
themselves, son," he was reminded, "and they 
are understood everywhere, whether the people 
speak Dutch, English, or Chinese." 

As the boy's school-days went by, it seemed 
that he had made that truth his own. In his 

165 



HEEOES OF TO-DAY 

studies he showed that common sense and thor- 
oughness are better than mere dash and bril- 
liancy. On the playground he let others do the 
talking, content to make his reply when he had 
his turn at the bat or not at all. And the 
knightly baron of old who won the name of 
Good Neck could not have held up his head and 
faced his world with a stronger and more 1 3so- 
lute bearing than did this American school-boy. 

To those who knew him it was no surprise 
when he entered West Point; and it was no 
surprise to any one when he graduated second 
in his class. 

"Of course, he wouldn't be first," one of his 
classmates said; "that would have been too 
showy for G. W. I don't know any one to 
whom just the honor of a thing means less. 
He 's glad to have done a good job, and of 
course he 's glad to be one of the picked few to 
go into the engineer corps.' 7 

As if unwilling to part with the young lieu- 
tenant, West Point kept him as an instructor 
for several months before sending him on to 
Willett's Point, where he remained in the En- 
gineering School of Application for two years. 

166 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

He soon proved that he had the virtues of the 
soldier and the leader of men loyalty and per- 
severance; loyalty, that makes a man able to 
take and give orders without becoming a ma- 
chine or a tyrant ; and perseverance, that makes 
him face each problem with the resolution to 
fight it out to the finish. 

There were years when he was detailed to 
one task after another. Now it was the de- 
velopment of irrigation works for vast tracts 
of land in the West where only water was 
needed to make the section a garden spot of the 
continent. Then, when his system of ditches 
was fairly planned out, he was ordered off to 
cope with another problem, the building of 
dikes and dams along the Ohio River to curb 
the spring floods and to make the stream a de- 
pendable servant to man. Always he was "on 
the battle-front of engineering," facing nature 
in her most obstinate moods and conquering 
obstacles that stood in the way of achievement. 

Sometimes when he was sent to a new point 
on the firing-line, leaving others to carry his 
work to completion, he would say to himself a 
bit ruefully, "What would it be like, I wonder, 

167 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

to stay by a job till the day of results!" But 
always Ms experience was the same. This 
year, orders took him to canal work along the 
Tennessee River; the next, perhaps, found him 
detailed to the work of coast fortifications at 
Newport. He was sent for a time to the Acad- 
emy at West Point as instructor ir 1 civil and 
military engineering, and for a while he was 
stationed at Washington as assistant to the 
chief engineer of the army. Everywhere he 
showed a love of work for the work's sake, a 
passion for a job well done. But what was 
rarer still, he showed a reach of understanding 
that was as broad as his practical grasp was 
firm. He always saw the relation between his 
own job and a greater whole. 

"While he keeps his eye on the matter in 
hand, it does n't shut out a glimpse of the things 
of yesterday and to-morrow. That 's why he 's 
so reasonable and why his men will follow 
wherever he leads, ' ' it was said. 

When the Spanish- American war broke out 
he went to Porto Rico as chief engineer of the 
First Army Corps. There his initial task was 
to construct a wharf where supplies could be 

168 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

landed, while a war vessel, which had been de- 
tailed for the purpose, stood guard over the 
operations. When the chief engineer looked at 
the heavy surf breaking on the beach his eye 
fell upon some flat-bottomed barges which had 
been captured by the warship, and a plan for 
quick and effective construction recommended 
itself on the instant. 

' ' Fill the barges with sand, and sink them as 
a foundation for the wharf, ' ' was his order. 

Only one, however, had been so appropriated 
when the amazed admiral in command of the 
man-of-war sent his aide to direct the engineer 
to call a halt in his extraordinary proceedings. 

"I am acting upon orders from my com- 
manding officer and can take none from any one 
else," replied Major Goethals, while the work 
with the second barge went on merrily. In a 
trice the aide returned with the warning that 
unless the orders were obeyed, the man-of-war 
would open fire on the rash offender. 

"You '11 have to fire away, then," was the 
reply, "for we shall not stop until we have 
completed the work we were sent here to do and 
landed the stores." 

169 



HEEOES OF TO-DAY 

The admiral did not send a shot after his 
threat, but he did forward a complaint to the 
engineer's commanding officer, who directed 
that lumber be employed instead of the barges. 

Major Goethals sent back the reply that there 
was no lumber to be had, and, while the offended 
admiral darkly threatened a court-martial, com- 
pleted the wharf. 

"It was. pretty uncomfortable during the 
time the admiral passed by without speak- 
ing, was it not!" a brother officer asked the 
major. 

"Well we landed the supplies," returned 
the engineer, quietly, as if that was the only 
thing that mattered after all. As usual, he was 
content to let results speak for themselves. 

All of the work that this master engineer 
had done up to this time, however, was really 
unconscious preparation for a mighty task that 
lay waiting for a man great enough to face with 
courage and commanding mind and will the dif- 
ficulties and problems involved in the biggest 
engineering job in America, or, indeed, in the 
whole world the digging of the Panama Canal. 
Ever since Columbus made his four voyages in 

170 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

the vain hope of finding a waterway between 
the West and the East, ever since Balboa, 
' ' silent upon a peak in Darien, ' ' gazed out over 
the limitless expanse of the Pacific, it had 
seemed as if man must be able to make for him- 
self a path for his ships across the narrow bar- 
rier of land that nature had left there as a 
challenge to his powers. At first it seemed that 
it must be as simple as it was necessary to cut 
a canal through forty miles of earth, but time 
showed that the mighty labors of Hercules were 
but child's play compared to this. 

Before Sir Francis Drake, the daring pirate 
whom destiny and patriotism made into an ex- 
plorer and an admiral, died in his ship off the 
Isthmus in 1596, a survey had been made of 
the trail along which the Spanish adventurers 
had been carrying the plunder of their con- 
quests in South America across the narrow 
neck of land from the town of Panama to Porto 
Bello, where it could be loaded on great gal- 
leons and taken to Spain. For three centuries 
men of different nations Spain, France, Col- 
ombia, and the United States made surveys 
and considered various routes for a canal, but 

171 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

when they came face to face with the project at 
close range, the tropical jungle and the great 
rocky hills put a check on their ventures before 
they were begun. 

In 1875, however, when the Suez Canal was 
triumphantly completed by the French canal 
company it seemed as if Count de Lesseps, the 
hero of this enterprise, might well be the man 
to pierce the New World isthmus. Blinded by 
his brilliant success, the venerable engineer (de 
Lesseps was at this time seventy-five years old) 
undertook the leadership of a vast enterprise 
to dig a similar canal across Panama. A canal 
was a canal; an isthmus was an isthmus. Of 
course, the man who had made a way for ships 
through Suez could join the waters of the At- 
lantic and Pacific at Panama. No one seemed 
to realize that the digging of a ditch through 
one hundred miles of level, sandy desert was an 
entirely different problem from cutting a water- 
way through solid rock and removing moun- 
tains, to say nothing of diverting into a new 
channel the flow of a turbulent river and recon- 
ciling the widely different tides of two oceans. 

Other engineers realized that the difficulties 
172 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

in the way of a sea-level ditch were stupendous 
and that the lock canal was the type for Pan- 
ama. Trusting, however, in the careless plans 
of Lieutenant Lucien Napoleon Bonaparte 
Wyse of the French Navy, who did not cover 
in his hasty survey more than two thirds of the 
territory through which the canal was to pass, 
Count de Lesseps estimated -that the work 
could be completed for $120,000,000, and prom- 
ised that in six years the long-sought waterway 
to the Pacific and the East would be open. 
None could doubt that the tolls paid by ships 
which would no longer be compelled to round 
Cape Horn in order to reach the western coast 
of the continents of North and South America, 
the islands of the Pacific, and the rich trading 
centers of the Orient, would repay tenfold the 
people who supplied the money for the great 
enterprise. 

Trusting in the magic name of the engineer 
who had brought glory to France and wealth 
to those who had supported his Suez venture, 
thousands of thrifty people throughout France 
offered their savings in exchange for stock in 
the canal company. But the only persons who 

173 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

ever made any money out of the enterprise 
were the dishonest men in high positions who 
took advantage alike of the unsuspecting op- 
timism of de Lesseps and the faith of the pub- 
lic in his fame. They drew large salaries and 
lived like princes, while, for want of proper 
management the money expended for lahor and 
machinery on the isthmus was for the most part 
thrown away. Many of the tools imported 
were suited to shoveling sand, not to removing 
rock. The matter of transportation for men 
and supplies seemed not to have been consid- 
ered at all. And the engineers and workmen 
fell prey in large numbers to yellow fever and 
malaria, for at that time it was not known that 
the mosquito was responsible for the spread of 
these diseases. Even the splendid hospitals 
built by the French provided favorable breed- 
ing-places for the carriers of the fever germs. 
The success of any large enterprise depends 
above everything else on the skilful handling of 
the problems of human engineering. For the 
quality of any work depends on the character 
of the workers. This means that a master of 
any great undertaking that involves the labor of 

174 



GEOEGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

many must first of all be a master of men. The 
successful engineer of the Panama Canal had 
not only to secure the loyalty and cooperation 
of all the workers of many races and prejudices, 
but also to provide comfortable houses, whole- 
some food, and healthful living conditions, alike 
for body and mind, of his army of workers. 
The French did not know the country in which 
they worked the difficulties and dangers it 
presented. They did not know the men who 
worked for them their needs and how to meet 
them. They did not know the men they worked 
with their inefficiency and graft and how to 
forestall them. The de Lesseps enterprise 
was, therefore, doomed to failure. After ex- 
pending $260,000,000 (more than twice as much 
as the entire cost of Suez) in nine years, less 
than a quarter of the canal was dug and the 
chief problems, presented by the unruly Chag- 
res Eiver and the floods of the rainy season, 
were still untouched. 

This is not the place to describe the disorderly 
retreat of the French forces, who hastily aban- 
doned work and workers, tools and machines, 
like so much wreckage of a hopeless disaster. 

175 



HEEOES OF TO-DAY 

Some of the rascals and swindlers were pun- 
ished ; many others escaped. The aged de Les- 
seps acclaimed as a hero yesterday, de- 
nounced as a traitor to-day died of a broken 
heart. Thousands of poor people lost their 
little savings and with them their hope of com- 
fort in their old age. When the United States 
offered to pay forty million dollars for all that 
the French company had accomplished, and all 
that it possessed in the way of equipment, plans, 
and privileges, the stockholders were only too 
glad to close the bargain. 

The whole story of how the United States 
went about this world job makes one of the most 
interesting chapters of our history. It is, how- 
ever, " another story." We cannot here go 
into the matter of how Panama became a 
republic independent of Colombia, and how 
the United States purchased for ten million dol- 
lars a strip of land ten miles wide, five miles 
on either side of the canal, across the isthmus. 
This Canal Zone is "as much the territory of 
the United States as the parade-ground at West 
Point," the ports of Balboa and Cristobal are 

176 




Major Goethals, as Chairman of the Isthmian Canal Commission, 
Washington, D. C., 1908 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

American, and the United States holds the 
right to enforce sanitary regulations in the 
cities of Panama and Colon at either end of the 
canal and to preserve order when the Panama 
authorities prove unequal to the task. 

The shout went up from all over America: 
"Make the dirt fly! Show what the spirit of 
'get there' and Yankee grit can do!" Of 
course, the temptation to produce immediate re- 
sults was great. But the clear-seeing men in 
control said: "There must be no headlong 
rush this time. We will be content to make 
haste slowly and take steps to prevent the evils 
that have defeated those who have gone before. 
We must clean the cities, drain the swamps, 
make clearings in the rank growth of the jun- 
gles. We must make a place even in the trop- 
ics where health and happy human living are 
possible." 

But the ' * clean-up ' ' slogan was not able alone 
to conquer the specter of disease. Yellow fever 
still haunted the sanitary streets and byways. 
Only through the heroism of brave men who 
loved their neighbors better than themselves 

179 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

and who were willing to die that others might 
live was the secret learned. The experiments 
to which they gladly offered up their lives 
proved that the bite of a particular kind of mos- 
quito was responsible for the spread of the dis- 
ease, and that, if this insect could be destroyed, 
yellow fever would be destroyed with it. Colo- 
nel Gorgas, the chief sanitary officer, whose 
watchword was "First prevent, then curb, and, 
when all else fails, cure, ' ' was the leader in the 
fight for healthful conditions on the isthmus. 

But all this time we have been talking much 
about the battle-ground and little about the 
general who led the forces to victory. 

It was clear that the time was ripe. The 
moment cried out for a man of power one 
whose might as an engineer could command the 
forces of earth and ocean, and whose under- 
standing of the even more difficult problems of 
human engineering would make him a true 
leader of men. 

In 1905 Mr. Taft, who was at that time secre- 
tary of war, journeyed to Panama to see how 
the work was going forward and to plan for 
the fortifications of the canal. He took with 

180 



him an officer of engineers, a tall, vigorous man 
of forty seven, with gray hair, a strong, youth- 
ful, bronzed face, and clear, direct, blue eyes. 
No trumpet sounded before Major Goethals to 
announce the man of the hour the one whom 
destiny and experience had equipped for the 
great work. He studied every phase of the 
giant enterprise, and, when he returned to 
Washington, prepared a report that showed 
not only a thorough understanding of every de- 
tail, but also a broad comprehension of the 
problems of the whole. His recommendation 
of a lock canal was submitted by the secretary 
of war to the President, and with it went Mr. 
Taft's recommendation of Major Goethals for 
the position of chief engineer. Experience had 
proved that divided authority and changes in 
policy through changes in management were 
serious drawbacks. 

"If I can find an army officer equal to the 
job, he will have to fight the thing out to the 
finish," said President Roosevelt. "He must 
manage the work on the spot, not from an office 
in Washington. He must be given full power 
to act and to control ; and he must be a man big 

181 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

enough to realize that large authority means 
only large responsibility." 

After carefully considering Major Goethals' 
record and reports and then talking with the 
man himself, the President became convinced 
that he had found the right chief for the work 
and the army of workers. But when it was 
generally known that an army officer was to 
command at Panama, people shook their heads. 
' ' The high-handed methods of the military will 
never succeed there," they said. " Shoulder- 
straps cannot do the work!" 

On the occasion of Major Goethals' first ap- 
pearance before his staff of engineers and 
other assistants it was very clear that they 
looked upon the departure of their late chief, 
Mr. Stevens, with regret that became keener as 
they anticipated the formality and rigors of 
military control. When it was the new lead- 
er's turn to speak they faced him silently. 
Major Goethals stood tall and firm like a true 
descendant of the "Good Neck" of old, but he 
looked them in the eyes frankly and pleasantly. 

"There will be no militarism and no salutes in 
Panama, ' ' he said. * ' I have left my uniform in 

182 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

moth-balls at home, and with it I have left be- 
hind military duties and fashions. We are here 
to fight nature shoulder to shoulder. Your 
cause is my cause. We have common enemies 
Culebra Cut and the climate ; and the comple- 
tion of the canal will be our victory. I intend 
to be the commanding officer, but the chiefs of 
division will be the colonels, the foremen the 
captains, and no man who does his duty has 
aught to fear from militarism." 

Let us see how they went against the first 
enemy, Culebra Cut ; the channel that was to be 
made through the formidable "peak in Darien" 
known as Culebra Mountain. It is only seven 
o'clock, but the chief engineer Colonel Goe- 
thals, now is at the station ready to take the 
early train. 

"Suppose we walk through the tunnel,'* he 
remarks. * ' You know the dirt-trains have right 
of way in Panama. We should hesitate to de- 
lay one even for the President of the [United 
States or the Czar of all the Russias." 

At the end of the tunnel a car that looks like 
a limousine turned switch-engine is waiting on 
a siding for the "boss of the job." Painted 

183 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

light yellow, like the passenger-cars of the Pan- 
ama Railroad, it is known among the men as the 
"Yellow Peril," or the " Brain-wagon." But 
if any one expects, as a matter of course, to see 
the colonel in the "Yellow Peril," he is as likely 
as not doomed to disappointment. The chief 
engineer drops off, now to see men drilling holes 
for dynamite, now to watch the loading of the 
dirt-trains from the great steam-shovels. 

As we see the solid rock and rocklike earth of 
Culebra we realize that without dynamite the 
canal would be impossible. Let us watch for a 
moment the tearing down of the "everlasting 
hill. " Deafening machine-drills pierce the rock 
or hard soil with holes from three to thirty or 
forty feet in depth. These holes, which have 
been carefully arranged so as to insure the 
greatest effect in an earth-quaking, rock-break- 
ing way, are filled with dynamite and then con- 
nected with an electric wire so that the pressure 
of a button will set off the entire charge. A 
rumble and then a roar the earth trembles 
heaves then great masses of rock, mud, and 
water are hurled high in the air. A fraction of 
Culebra larger than a six- or seven-story build- 

184 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

ing is frequently torn down by one of these ex- 
plosions and the rock broken into pieces that can 
be seized by the steam-shovels and loaded on 
the dump-cars. 

It is interesting to see how, through an in- 
genious arrangement of the network of tracks, 
the loaded cars always go on the down grade 
and only empty trains have to crawl up an in- 
cline. Much of the rock taken from the cut is 
used to build the great Gatun Dam, that keeps 
the troublesome Chagres Kiver from flooding 
the canal. The rest goes to the construction of 
breakwaters at the ends of the waterway or to 
the filling of swamps and valleys. 

The "brain-wagon" is going along without 
the head. He is climbing blithely over the 
roughest sort of ground, now dodging onrush- 
ing dirt-trains, now running to shelter with the 
"powder-men" at the moment of blasting. A 
question here, a word there, and on he goes. It 
seems as if even the steam-shovels know that 
there is a masterhand at the helm and vie with 
one another to see which can take up the most 
earth at a bite. You would think any man 
would be completely played out after such con- 

185 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

stant jumping and climbing under the hot rays 
of a tropical sun, as the hours draw near to 
noon, but the colonel pulls up the long flight of 
steps that lead from the cut and remarks 
briskly, "Nothing like a little exercise every 
morning to keep your health in this climate ! ' ' 

" There never was such a man for being on 
the job!" exclaimed one of his foremen, admir- 
ingly. "The only time the colonel isn't work- 
ing is from ten p. M. to five A. M., when he is 
asleep." 

No despotic monarch in his inherited king- 
dom ever had more absolute power than had the 
Man of Panama. The men from the chiefs of 
divisions down to the last Jamaican negro on 
the line realized that he was master of the busi- 
ness and that his orders sprang from a thor- 
ough understanding of conditions and a large 
grasp of the whole. He was a successful engi- 
neer, however, not only because he knew the 
forces of nature that they were working to con- 
quer in Panama, but also the human nature he 
was working with. He knew that no chain is 
stronger than its weakest link, and that no mat- 
ter how perfect his plans and how powerful his 

186 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

huge machines and engines, the success he 
strove for would depend first of all on the 
character and the cooperation of the work- 
ers. 

"The real engineer must above all feel the 
vital importance of the human side of engineer- 
ing work, ' ' he declared. * * The man who would 
move mountains and make the flow of rivers 
serve human ends must first be a master of hu- 
man construction." 

He knew that if there were to be able and will- 
ing workers in Panama, they must be provided 
with the means of comfortable and contented 
living. It was not enough to defeat death in 
the form of plague and fever ; it was necessary 
to make life worth while. For man could not 
live by work alone in a land of swamps and 
jungles. Houses with screened porches, with 
gardens, and all the comforts and conveniences 
to be found at home were provided for the five 
thousand American engineers, clerks, and fore- 
men. Ships with cold-storage equipment 
brought food supplies from New York or New 
Orleans, and every morning a long train of re- 
frigerator-cars steamed across the isthmus car- 

187 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

rying fresh provisions to all the hotels, town 
commissaries, and camps. 

"You needn't pity us because we live in the 
Zone," said Mrs. Smith. "We get just as good 
meat and green vegetables as you can in market 
and at wholesale prices. Our house is rent free, 
with furniture, linen, and silverware provided. 
We have electric lights and a telephone. We 
even have ice-cream soda and the movies ! ' ' 

The Man of Panama knew that all work and 
no play would not only make Jack a dull boy, 
but also a poor workman. Recreation build- 
ings were provided where one could enjoy bas- 
ket-ball, squash, bowling, or read the latest 
books and magazines. There were clubs for 
men and for women, ban.d concerts, and a base- 
ball league. 

"The colonel not only gave time and thought 
to the things that kept us contented and fit," 
one of the engineers said, "but he always had 
time for everybody who felt he wanted a word 
with him. The man who was handling the big- 
gest job in the world nevertheless seemed to 
think it was worth while to consider the little 

188 



troubles of each man who came along. Have 
you heard the song they sing in Panama! 

"Don't hesitate to state your case, the boss will hear you 

through ; 

It 's true he 's sometimes busy, and has other things to do, 
But come on Sunday morning, and line up with the rest, 
You '11 maybe feel some better with that grievance off your 
chest. 

See Colonel Goethals, tell Colonel Goethals, 
It 's the only right and proper thing to do. 
Just write a letter, or, even better, 
Arrange a little Sunday interview." 

The colonel's Sunday mornings were remark- 
able occasions. You might see foregathered 
there the most interesting variety of human 
types that could be found together anywhere in 
the world English, Spanish, French, Italians, 
turbaned coolies from India, and American ne- 
groes. One man thinks that his foreman does 
not appreciate his good points; another comes 
to present a claim for an injury received on a 
steam-shovel. Mrs. A. declares with some feel- 
ing that she is never given as good cuts of meat 
as Mrs. B. enjoys every day. Another house- 
wife does n't see why, if Mrs. F. can get bread 
from the hospital bakery, she can't as well; be- 

189 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

cause she, too, can appreciate a superior arti- 
cle! 

1 1 Of course, many of the things are trivial and 
even absurd," said the colonel; "but if some- 
body thinks his little affair important, of course 
it is to him. And that is the point, isn't it! 
He feels better when he has had it out ; and if 
it makes the people any happier in their exile to 
have this court of appeal, that is not a thing to 
be despised. Besides, first and last. I come to 
understand many things that are really impor- 
tant from any point of view." 

"He is the squarest boss I ever worked for," 
declared one of the locomotive engineers, "and 
I '11 tell you the grafters don't have any show 
with him. He had a whole cargo of meat sent 
back the other day because it was n't above sus- 
picion. I happen to know, too, that he turned 
back a load of screening on a prominent busi- 
ness house who thought that they could save a 
bit on the copper that for a government order 
it would never be noticed if it was not quite 
rust-proof." 

The canal was finished not only in less time 
than had ever been thought possible, but also 

190 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

with such honest and efficient administration of 
every detail that nowadays, when the statement 
is sometimes made that no great public enter- 
prise can be carried through without more or 
less mismanagement and jobbing, the champion 
of Uncle Sam's business methods retorts, 
"Look at Panama!" 

The colonel's quiet mastery in moments of 
stress was perhaps the most interesting phase 
of his human engineering. The representa- 
tives of a labor union threaten a strike unless 
he orders the release of one of their number who 
has been convicted of manslaughter. "When 
will we get our answer?" asked the spokes- 
man. 

' ' You have it now, ' ' replied Colonel Goethals. 
"You said that if the man was not out of the 
penitentiary by seven this evening you would all 
quit. By calling up the penitentiary you will 
learn that he is still there. That is your an- 
swer. It is now ten minutes past seven." 

"But, Colonel, you don't want to tie up the 
whole work?" protested the leader. 

"I am not proposing to tie up the work you 
are doing that," was the reply. 

191 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

"But, Colonel, why can't you pardon the 
man?" 

"I will take no action in response to a mob. 
As for your threat to leave the service, I wish 
to say that every man of you who is not at his 
post to-morrow morning will be given his trans- 
portation to the United States, and there will 
be no string to it. He will go out on the first 
steamer and he will never come back. ' ' 

There was only one man who failed to report 
the following day, and he sent a doctor's certifi- 
cate stating that he was too ill to be out of bed. 

Human engineering was especially called into 
play when the Man of Panama faced commit- 
tees of inquiry and investigation from Congress. 
A pompous politician once demanded in a chal- 
lenging tone and with a sharp eye on the colonel, 
"How much cracked stone do you allow for a 
cubic yard of concrete?" 

"One cubic yard," was the reply. 

"You evidently do not understand my ques- 
tion," rejoined the investigator in the manner 
of one who is bent on convicting another through 
his own words. "How much cracked stone do 
you allow for a cubic yard of concrete?" 

192 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

"One cubic yard. " 

"But you don't allow for the sand and con- 
crete." The implied accusation was spoken 
with grave emphasis. 

"Those go into the spaces among the cracked 
stone," was the unruffled reply. The smile that 
went around the room was felt rather than 
heard, but the pompous politician had no fur- 
ther questions. 

This master of men, who was never known 
to yield his ground when he had once taken a 
stand, was always a man of few words. He 
preferred to let acts and facts do the talking. 

"You know, Colonel Goethals," said a prom- 
inent statesman on one occasion, "a great many 
people think we are never going to carry this 
job through to the finish. What would you say 
when diplomats of the leading powers come at 
you with questions and declare it will never be 
done?" 

"I wouldn't say anything," was the reply. 

On another occasion the boss of the job said: 
"Some day in September, 1913, I expect to go 
to Colon and take the Panama Eailroad steamer 
and put her through the canal. If we get all 

193 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

the way across, I '11 give it out to the news- 
papers if we don't, I '11 keep quiet about it." 

It was said of old that if one had faith enough 
he could move mountains. We cannot doubt 
that the Man of Panama carried through his 
great work because he had faith not a passive 
faith that hoped and waited, but an active faith- 
fulness that worked in full confidence that des- 
tiny worked with him. And this faith and loy- 
alty was a living power that enkindled like faith- 
fulness in those who worked with him. 

The Man of Panama is General Goethals now, 
but when any admirer would imply that his gen- 
eralship his administration and human en- 
gineering was the chief factor in the success 
of the great work, he invariably replies that he 
was but one man of many working shoulder to 
shoulder in a common cause. The simple 
greatness of the " prophet-engineer" and leader 
of men was shown in the words with which he 
accepted the medal of the National Geographic 
Society : 

"The canal has been the work of many, and 
it has been the pride of Americans who have vis- 
ited the isthmus to find the spirit which has ani- 

194 




S'/ku/u l,u III-, an 



The ' ' Man of Panama ' ' at Panama 



GEORGE WASHINGTON GOETHALS 

mated the forces. Every man was doing the 
particular part of the work that was necessary 
to make it a success. No chief of any enterprise 
ever commanded an army that was so loyal, so 
faithful, that gave its strength and its blood to 
the successful completion of its task as did the 
canal forces. And so in accepting the medal 
and thanking those who confer it, I accept it and 
thank them in the name of every member of the 
canal army." 

Since the completion of the canal, its master- 
builder has been called to serve his country in 
more than one great crisis. At the time of the 
threatened railroad strike in the fall of 1916, 
he was made chairman of the commission of 
three appointed by President Wilson to investi- 
gate the working of the eight-hour law for train 
operators, which was the subject of dispute be- 
tween the managers of the roads and the men 
who ran the freight-trains. In March, 1917, 
he was selected by Governor Edge of New Jer- 
sey to serve as advisory engineer on the con- 
struction of the new fif teen-million-dollar high- 
way system of that State. 



197 



A SHEPHERD OF 

"THE GREAT COUNTRY": 

BISHOP ROWE 



"Love is a bodily shape; and Christian works are no 
more than animate faith and love, as flowers are the ani- 
mate springtide." 

LONGFELLOW. 



A SHEPHERD OF 
"THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

HAVE you heard the story of Offero, the 
mighty giant of Canaan, who made a vow 
never to serve any master but the most power- 
ful of all the rulers of earth ? 

"As my strength is great, so shall my service 
be great, " he said, "and my king must be one 
who stands in fear of no man. ' ' 

He wandered over all lands, looking in vain 
for the greatest monarch, for each king plainly 
stood in dread of some other power. At length, 
however, he was told by a holy hermit that the 
King of kings was an invisible Lord who 
reigned through love in the hearts of men. 

"How can I serve him?" asked Offero. 

"You must fast and pray," answered the her- 
mit. 

"Nay," cried Offero, "not so! For I should 
then lose my strength which is all that I have 
to bring to his service." 

For a moment the holy hermit prayed silently 
201 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

to be given wisdom. Then his face shone as if 
from a light within. 

' * There is a river over which many poor peo- 
ple must cross," he said, "and there is no 
bridge. The current is often so swift and 
treacherous at the ford that even the strongest 
are swept from their feet and lost. With your 
great strength you could help one and all to 
safety. It would be a work of love meet serv- 
ice for the Lord of Love." 

And so Offero, the giant, built him a little hut 
by the side of the stream and dwelt there all his 
days, lending his strength to all who needed it 
in the name of the unseen King whom he served. 
It is said that one night in a wild storm a little 
child came praying to be carried across. Now, 
for the first time, Offero knew what weakness 
and faltering meant. He staggered and all but 
fell in the foaming current. 

"Oh, little child," he cried out as he stumbled, 
panting and spent, to the farther bank, "never 
before have I borne such a weight ! I felt as if 
I were carrying the whole world on my shoul- 
ders!" 

"And well you might, strong one," said the 
202 



SHEPHEKD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

child, ' ' for you have this- night carried the Mas- 
ter whom you serve. Henceforth your name 
shall be not Offero but Christopher, which 
means one who has carried Christ." 

And the good giant was called Saint Christo- 
pher from that day. You have perhaps seen 
pictures of him, for more than one great artist 
has tried to paint the story of his faithful serv- 
ice of love. 

We are going to hear to-day the story of a 
strong man of our own time, who, like -Offero 
of old, vowed to serve with his strength the 
greatest Master of all the King of kings. The 
tale of his life began November 20, 1856, when 
Peter Trimble Rowe was born in Toronto, Can- 
ada. He was a tall, sturdy lad, who early 
learned to laugh at cold weather and strenuous 
days in the open. The more wintry it was 
without, the more glowing the warmth within 
his hardy, alert body. If you had met him as 
he returned from a holiday afternoon spent on 
snow-shoes, your pulses would have throbbed 
in sympathy with his happy, tingling vigor. 
You would have felt as if you had "warmed 
both hands before the fire of life." 

203 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

He had bright Irish eyes, a ready Irish laugh, 
and the merry heart that belongs with them. 
His heart was, moreover, as warm as it was 
glad. He laughed with people, not at them; 
and he had a quick understanding of their trou- 
bles and difficulties as well as of the fun that 
lay near the surface of things. This means 
that his heart caught the beat of other hearts, 
and that he early learned the lessons that love 
alone can teach. 

It was while he was still a student that he 
decided what his life work must be. ' * Man can- 
not live by bread alone" these words had a 
very vital meaning for him. There were many 
in the world, he knew, who spent all their days 
struggling for bread, as if that alone could sat- 
isfy their longing for life. Very simply he said 
to himself: "I must use my strength to .help 
where help is most needed. I must go to the 
far-off, frontier places where people live and 
die without light and without hope." 

As soon as he had graduated from Trinity 
College, Toronto, and was ordained a minister 
of the church, he went as missionary to an In- 
dian tribe on the northern shore of Lake Huron. 

204 



SHEPHERD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

In caring for this wild, neglected flock the 
young shepherd needed all his splendid, vigor- 
ous health and hardihood. He went around in 
summer drought and winter storm, often sleep- 
ing by a camp-fire or in an Indian wigwam, in 
order that he might bring the light of a new 
hope into the dark lives of these first Ameri- 
cans. 

"The Indians have learned little good from 
the white men or from civilization," he said 
ruefully. "They have acquired some of our 
weaknesses and diseases that is about all." 

He longed to bring to them in exchange for 
the old free life in their vast forests and broad 
prairie country, a new freedom of the spirit 
that should enable them to understand and use 
the good things in the white man's world. Do 
you think that he tried to do this through 
preaching? He really did not preach at all. 
He lived with the people and talked to them as 
a friend who was ready to share what he had 
with others on the same trail. 

Do you remember Emerson's much-quoted 
challenge? "My dear sir, what you are speaks 
so loud that I cannot hear what you are 

205 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

saying. " What a person is will always be 
heard above what he says. In the case of 
Mr. Rowe, the strong, self-reliant, sympathetic, 
kindly spirit of the man ever talked with a di- 
rect appeal to his people. He tramped and 
hunted, canoed and fished with them, and shared 
with them the fortunes of the day around the 
evening camp-fire. No one had a cheerier word 
or a heartier laugh. They were ready to hear 
all that he had to tell them of the things that 
make life happier and better, and of the Master 
he served, who loved his red children no less 
than the white. 

When the work was well under way on the 
Indian reservation, the young man accepted the 
call to a new field at Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan. 
Here he had again the challenge- and inspira- 
tion of pioneer work. There were six members 
of his church when he took charge; when, ten 
years later, he left his flock to another pastor 
it numbered two hundred and fifty. He had, 
moreover, pushed out into the surrounding 
country and established missions at several dif- 
ferent points. He was sure that his strength 
and endurance, his power to conquer cold, fa- 

206 



SHEPHERD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

tigue, and other unfriendly conditions, should 
be used in the greatest cause of all in going 
"to seek and save those that are lost" in the 
wild places of the earth. 

"I love battling with wind and weather and 
pulling against the stream," he used to say. 
"I was born tough, and it 's only common sense 
to put such natural toughness to some real 
use." 

So it was that, like Saint Christopher, he 
was resolved to serve his King with his 
strength. 

In 1895, when a bishop was wanted to take 
charge of the great unexplored field of all 
Alaska scattered white men who had gone 
there for fish, furs, or gold ; Indian tribes in the 
vast, trackless interior; and Eskimos in the 
far North within the Arctic Circle people said 
without hesitation, "Mr. Rowe is the man to go 
as shepherd to that country." 

A bishop, you know, is an "overseer," one 
who is responsible for the welfare of the people 
of a certain district or diocese, as it is called. 
He is a sort of first shepherd, who has general 
charge of all the flocks (churches and missions), 

207 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

and who tries to provide for those that are with- 
out care. The man to undertake this work in 
Alaska would have to be one of the hardy, pa- 
tient explorer-missionaries, like Father Mar- 
quette, who in 1673 traveled in a birch canoe 
through the Great Lakes and along the Missis- 
sippi, ministering to the Indians and making a 
trail through the New World wilderness. 

Alaska is an Indian word which means "the 
Great Country." It is, indeed, not one but 
many lands. Most people think of it as a wild, 
snow-covered waste, whose arctic climate has 
been braved by white men only for the sake of 
its salmon, seals, and later for the gold that 
was found hidden away in its frost-locked soil. 
The country along the Pacific coast is warmed 
by the Japan current just as the British Isles 
are by the Gulf Stream, and its climate is milder 
in winter and cooler in summer than that of 
New England. It is a land of wonderful, in- 
spiring beauty, with lordly, snow-crowned 
mountain peaks; forests of enchanting green- 
ness bordering clear, deep fiords; and fields 
bright with poppies, bluebells, wild roses, and 
other flowers of the most vivid coloring. The 

208 



SHEPHERD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

interior, through which flows the Yukon, that 
great highway of Alaska, is much colder, but it 
is only the northern portion reaching into the 
Polar Sea that has the frigid conditions that 
many people associate with "the Great Coun- 
try." 

When in early April, Bishop Rowe took the 
steamer from Seattle to Juneau, Alaska, he 
found that two hundred of his fellow passen- 
gers were bound for the newly discovered gold 
fields. Many of them were fine, rugged fellows 
who loved strenuous endeavor better than easy, 
uneventful days. Some few of them were ' ' roll- 
ing stones" of the sort that would make trou- 
ble anywhere. 

"When I looked forward to what might be 
done for the lonely settlers and forlorn natives 
in Alaska," said Bishop Rowe, "I did not at 
first realize that an important part of the work 
would be with the great army of gold-seekers 
who suddenly find themselves in the midst of 
hardships, disappointments, and temptations 
that they have never known before." 

Of course the men on board were anxious to 
learn everything they could about the "Great 

209 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

Country." Each person who had been to 
Alaska before was surrounded by a group of 
eager questioners. 

"It is the richest country on God's earth," 
declared a merchant. "There are no such 
hauls of salmon and halibut anywhere else. 
"Why, the fisheries alone are worth more in one 
year than the paltry sum of $7,200,000 that we 
paid Russia for Alaska. And think how the 
people in America made fun of Seward for urg- 
ing the purchase. Said it was fit for nothing 
but a polar bear picnic grounds." 

"Was n't it hinted that the United States was 
paying Russia in that way for her friendship 
during the Civil War by offering to take a 
frozen white elephant off her hands and giving 
her a few million dollars into the bargain?" 
asked another. 

"Yes," rejoined a man who was evidently a 
hunter, "and we 're just beginning to wake up 
to the bargain we have. I 've been there before 
for the sport bear, moose, caribou. You 
never knew such a happy hunting ground for 
the chap who goes in for big game. But now 
I 'm for the gold fields. And, believe me, I 've 

210 



the start of you other fellows in knowing what 
I 'm up against. There are no Pullman sleep- 
ers where we are going, let me tell you. 
We '11 have to make our own trails over snow- 
covered mountains, across glaciers, and through 
canons, but the prize is there, boys, for those 
who have the grit to win out." 

"You talk about knowing Alaska," put in an- 
other, scornfully, "and you see there nothing 
but fish, big game, and the chance to find some 
of the yellow dust that drives men mad. It 's 
a fairer land than you have ever even dreamed 
of, with greener pines and nobler fiords than 
Norway can show, and mountains more sublime 
than the Alps. Do you know it 's a country 
that will feed a people and give them homes 
where the air is fresh and fragrant with snow, 
sunshine, and flowers ? You hunters and fishers 
and prospectors who go to Alaska just to make 
money and then run away to spend it, make me 
tired. You look upon that magnificent country 
white man's country, if there ever was such 
as nothing but so much loot." 

"You fellows remind me of the story of the 
blind men and the elephant," said Bishop 

211 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

Rowe, with his hearty laugh. "You remember 
how one felt a tusk and said the creature was 
just like a spear, while the one who touched the 
side said it was a wall, and the last beggar who 
chanced to get hold of the tail said it was like 
a rope. There is evidently more than one 
Alaska, and each one knows only the country 
that he has seen. We shall soon see for our- 
selves what we shall see." 

Of all the men who landed at Juneau, Bishop 
Rowe was in a sense the only real Alaskan, for 
he alone intended to make his home in the coun- 
try. Even the man who had called it "white 
man's country" was going there in the charac- 
ter of tourist-reporter to take away impressions 
of its marvelous scenery; its inspiring con- 
trasts of gleaming, snow-capped peaks and 
emerald watersides vivid with many-colored 
blossoms; its picturesque Indian villages with 
their grotesque totem poles; its gold "dig- 
gings" with their soldiers of fortune. 

Everybody was busy getting together the 
necessary outfit for the journey on the trail 
across the coast range to the Yukon, along 
which the adventurers made their way to Circle 

212 




Bishop Peter T. Rowe 



SHEPHERD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

City, a mining center eight hundred and fifty 
miles from Juneau. 

On April 22, the bishop, with one companion, 
left the seaport for his first journey in the land 
of his adoption. Sometimes he was climbing 
steep mountains where he had to dig out with 
his stick a foothold for each step ; sometimes he 
was walking through narrow canons not more 
than twelve or fourteen feet in width, where 
overhanging rocks and snow slides threatened 
to crush him ; sometimes he was creeping along 
the edge of cliffs so high and sheer that he dared 
not trust himself to look down; sometimes he 
was treading warily over the frozen crust of a 
stream whose waters seethed and roared omi- 
nously beneath the icy bridge. 

As he pushed on, hauling his heavy sled (it 
weighed, with the camping outfit and provisions, 
four hundred and fifty pounds), you can imag- 
ine that he had an appetite for his dinner of 
toasted bacon and steaming beans. Sometimes 
his gun would bring down a wild duck to vary 
this hearty fare. 

He knew what it was, however, to be too tired 
to eat or sleep. That was when he was felling 

215 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

trees and whipsawing the logs into boards for 
a boat. The men who had promised to furnish 
him with transportation as soon as the ice was 
broken up had not kept their agreement, and 
he faced the open season with no means of con- 
tinuing his journey. 

"If you '11 just camp here with us fellows 
for a spell, comrade, " said the men in whose 
company he found himself at Carabou Cross- 
ing, "we '11 all pitch in and give you a day's 
help when we Ve got our own lumber sawed." 

Then the good-natured miners had a shock 
of genuine surprise. The preacher whom they 
proposed to pull out of his difficulty proved 
that he was neither a tenderfoot nor a shirker. 

"I think I '11 see what I can do for myself 
before I ask you men to come to the rescue," 
he said. 

The blows of his ax resounded merrily as he 
put himself to his task. Then after the logs 
were rolled on the saw-pit he whipped out the 
lumber in something less than two days. When 
night came his muscles ached but his pulses 
sang. 

"What a friend a tree is!" he said, smiling 
216 



SHEPHEKD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

happily at the leaping, crackling flames. 
* ' Here it is giving us a rousing fire and boughs 
for our beds, as well as lumber for our boats 
and gum and pitch to make them watertight. " 

The rude but plucky little craft was finished 
and mounted on runners to take it to the place 
of launching before those who had volunteered 
to help him had their own lumber sawed. The 
rough men were much impressed. This mis- 
sionary who was not above sharing their toil 
and hardships must have a message that was 
worth hearing. They gathered about him with 
respectful attention when he said: 

"We 're hundreds of miles from a church 
here, but that doesn't mean that we don't feel 
the need of one, does it? Let 's have a service 
together about the camp-fire before we go on 
our way." 

The firelight shone on softened faces and 
earnest eyes as the gold seekers sat gazing up 
at the man who spoke to them simply and fear- 
lessly of the treasures of the spirit which he 
that seeks will be sure to find. 

' ' You men have given up comfort and friends 
and risked life itself to find your golden treas- 

217 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

ure, ' ' he said. * ' Some of you may win the prize 
you seek; many more may be doomed to dis- 
appointment. Will you not take with you 
something that will make you strong to bear 
either the temptations of success or the trials 
of failure? It is yours for the asking; only 
reach out your hand and you will touch it. 

"'Tis heaven alone that is given away, 
'Tis only God may be had for the asking." 

As Bishop Eowe talked, his hearers seemed 
to lean on his words as naturally as one leans 
on a trusty staff when the way is rough and 
steep. And when he had gone, much that he 
had said lingered with them through the fever- 
ish rush forward and the long desolate winter 
that followed, when the cracking ice and the 
howling wolves alone broke the awful stillness 
about their remote camp. 

The steadfast faith and the cheerful endur- 
ance of our pioneer missionary were tried 
more than once as he drew his boat, which 
weighed with the load of provisions some 1400 
pounds, over the frozen surface of a chain of 
lakes where he had to exercise ceaseless vigi- 
lance to avoid bad ice. Then there were three 

218 



SHEPHERD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

days of ice breaking after the spring thaw was 
well under way before he could begin to paddle 
with the stream. 

It was now the pleasantest time of the year 
the time of the long days when you can almost 
see the grasses and flowers shoot up as they 
take advantage of every moment of life-giving 
sunshine. The warm wind brought the smell 
of clover and the voice of leaping water-falls. 
It seemed as if one could taste the air; it was 
so fresh with the pure snow of the heights and 
so golden-sweet with sunshine and opening 
blossoms. 

The paddler on the Yukon, however, cannot 
become too absorbed in the beauties by the way. 
There are dangerous rapids and unexpected 
cross currents that require a steady head and 
a strong hand, and the new bishop frequently 
had reason to be grateful for the skill in canoe- 
ing that he had won in his camping days in 
Canada. 

If he had been out for game he would have 
found more than one opportunity for a good 
shot. There were brown bears looking at him 
from the brush along the banks, and bears fish- 

219 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

ing for salmon in the swift water. Sometimes 
he caught a glimpse of an antlered moose 
among the trees, and now and then he saw an 
eagle swoop down to seize a leaping fish in 
its claws. Flocks of ducks with their funny, 
featherless broods scurried over the water, dis- 
turbed by the sudden appearance of the canoe. 

The bishop visited the Indian villages along 
the stream, as well as the missions that had 
been planted at various points to minister to 
the natives. Imagine what his cheering pres- 
ence meant to the lonely workers in the wilder- 
ness. As he went along he was planning how 
best he might meet the needs of the people with 
new missions, hospitals, and schools. 

"Why is it that all you tough, rough-riding 
Alaskan fellows set such store by this Bishop 
Rowe?" a man from Fairbanks was asked. 

"Well, for one thing his works have not been 
in words but in deeds," was the reply. "Let 
me tell you how it was with us when he came 
over the ice from Circle City in the winter of 
1903. He looked us over and saw the thing 
we most needed. He saw no dollars, either in 
sight or in the future. He saw only that a poor 

220 



SHEPHEKD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

lot of human creatures, up against a dead-hard 
proposition, needed a hospital. 'You have the 
ground,' said he; 'you raise half the money and 
I will leave the other half for the building. 
Then I will take care of the nurses, medicines, 
and everything else you need.' Of course he 
is for his church, but he and his church are 
always for their people and their people are 
any that fare over the trail." 

It was soon said of this master missionary 
that he was "the best musher in Alaska," 
"Mush!" or "Mush on!" is the cry that the 
men on the winter trails give to their dog teams. 
It is, perhaps, a corruption of the French word 
marchons, which means "Go on!" There is 
seldom a winter when Bishop Rowe does not 
travel from one to two thousand miles with his 
team of six huskies to visit his people. 

Da you picture him sitting comfortably 
wrapped in fur robes on the sledge while the 
dogs pull him as well as the store of food for 
the six weeks' journey on which he is bound? 
Look again! There he is walking on snow- 
shoes ahead of the team leader; he is "breaking 
trail" for the dogs who have all they can do 

221 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

to drag the laden sled. In order to lighten 
their load he selects a tree at each camping- 
place to serve as a landmark, and hides there 
a store of food for the return trip. 

4 'That is a plan that works well unless the 
sly wolverines manage to get on the scent of 
the cache," he said. "But you must go as 
light as possible when you travel over a waste 
of snow, and are forced at times to cover forty 
miles a day. It is a trip that takes all the 
unnecessary fat off you ; and you get as strong 
as a mule and as hungry as a bear. ' * 

You would think that the mountain climbing, 
canoeing, and marching on snow-shoes which 
are part of his yearly round would be all that 
he could possibly need to take off the "unneces- 
sary fat" and keep him in the "pink of train- 
ing." The winter trip with the dog sledge, 
however, brings many situations when life it- 
self depends upon one's physical fitness. In 
preparation for those journeys, the bishop 
goes through a regular series of exercises 
long distance running, hill-climbing, and even 
jumping rope. The following extract from one 
of his diaries kept during a six weeks ' trip over 

222 



SHEPHERD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

the Arctic waste when mountains and valleys 
alike were muffled in a white silence, and all 
the streams were voiceless, spell-bound rivers 
of ice, will show what making the rounds in the 
diocese of all Alaska means: 

Our sled was loaded with robes, tent, stove, axes, cloth- 
ing, and food for sixteen days for dogs and selves. Wind 
blew the snow like shot in our faces. I kept ahead of 
the dogs, leading them, finding the way. We had to cross 
the wide river; the great hummocks made this an ordeal; 
had to use the ax and break a way for the dogs and sled. 
In the midst of it all the dogs would stop; they could 
not see; their eyes were closed with the frost; so I rubbed 
off the frost and went on. The time came when the dogs 
would could no longer face the storm. I was forced 
to make a camp. It was not a spot I would choose for 
the purpose. The bank of the river was precipitous, high, 
rocky, yet there was wood. I climbed one hundred feet 
and picked out a spot and made a campfire. Then re- 
turned to the sled, unharnessed the dogs, got a "life line," 
went up and tied it to a tree by the fire. By means of 
this we got up our robes and sufficient food. Here after 
something to eat we made a bed in the snow. ... It was 
a night of shivers. Froze our faces. 

After a sleepless night we were up before daybreak. It 
was still blowing a gale; had some breakfast; tried to 
hitch the dogs, but they would not face the storm, so I 
resigned myself to the situation and remained in camp. 
It was my birthday, too. I kept busy chopping wood for 
the fire. ... In carrying a heavy log down the side of 
the mountain, I tripped, fell many feet, and injured shoul- 
der slightly. 

223 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

After another cold and shivering night we found the 
wind somewhat abated and without breakfast hitched up 
the dogs, packed sled, and were traveling before it was 
light. . . . Early in the day while piloting the way I en- 
countered bad ice, open water, broke through and got wet. 
After that I felt my way with ax in hand, snow-shoes 
on feet, until it grew dark. In the darkness I broke 
through the ice and escaped with some difficulty. . . . 

A worker in a lonely frontier post where 
there were plentiful discouragements once said : 
* ' When I am tempted to think that I am having 
a hard time I just think of Bishop Rowe. Then 
I realize that it is possible to feel that creature 
comforts are not matters of first importance. 
How splendidly he proves that a man can rise 
above circumstances, and still march on and 
laugh on no matter what may be happening 
about him or to him!" 

We have seen how the Bishop of Alaska fares 
in winter when the world is a vast whiteness 
save only for the heaving dark of the sea ; when 
the avalanches are booming on the mountains; 
when the winds are sweeping through the 
canons, and all the air is filled with ice-dust. 
What can he accomplish through these journeys 
that he should forego all comfort and risk life 
itself! 

224 



SHEPHERD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

First, he brings light and cheer to the home- 
sick miners to the dull-eyed, discouraged men 
who have struggled and toiled without success, 
and to the excited, watchful ones who fear to 
lose what they have won. 

"Where are all the people going?" asked a 
stranger in Fairbanks one Sunday. 

"Bishop Rowe is here," replied the hotel 
clerk smilingly. "Everybody turns out when 
he comes to town. You see," he added 
thoughtfully, "he somehow knows what a man 
needs no matter where he is or what he is. 
There is something that goes home to each one 
who listens." 

But the adventurers from civilization are not 
the bishop's chief care. His first thought is 
for the Indians and Eskimos, who, if they have 
gained somewhat, have suffered much through 
the coming of the white men to their shores. 

"Our people have for the most part been 
consistently engaged in plundering Alaska," he 
said. "We have grown rich on its salmon and 
furs, while the natives who formerly had plenty 
feel the pinch of famine and cold. We take 
from the country everything we can get and 

225 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

even make the Indians pay a tax on the trees 
they cut down ; but we do nothing for the land 
in the way of building roads and bridges, or 
for the people in the way of protecting them 
from the evils that the coming of the white men 
has brought upon them." 

In so far as it lies in his power, the bishop 
tries to atone for this despoiling of Alaska by 
working whole-heartedly for the natives teach- 
ing them more wholesome ways of living, giv- 
ing them food and medicine in times of distress, 
providing sawmills to give them work, intro- 
ducing reindeer to supply clothing in the place 
of the seals that are fast disappearing, and 
building churches, schools, and hospitals. He 
has, besides, gone to Washington and described 
to the President and the lawmakers the pitiable 
state of the Alaskan Indians, and pleaded for 
reservations where they could first of all be 
taught how to maintain health under the new 
conditions of life that have been forced upon 
them, and then given suitable industrial train- 
ing and the chance of earning a livelihood. The 
laws that have been passed to secure fair play 
for the original Alaskans have been won largely 



SHEPHERD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

through the persistent and effective champion- 
ship of Bishop Rowe. 

See him as he journeys down the Yukon in 
a scow loaded with lumber for a mission build- 
ing. He has with him just one helper and 
three little Indian children whom he is taking 
to a school at Anvik. At night he is at the 
bow, watching to guard against the dangers 
of the stream. Sometimes the children wake 
up and cry when a great slide from the bank 
tons on tons of rock and earth shoots into 
the river with a terrific boom. Sometimes, 
when the hooting of an owl or the wail of a 
wild beast pierces the stillness they huddle to- 
gether, too frightened to make a sound. Then 
the good bishop stoops over and pats them on 
the head kindly, saying a comforting word or 
two which reminds them that nothing can pos- 
sibly harm them while he is near. 

A storm of rain and wind that lasts all night 
and all the next day drenches them through and 
through. The children, who are wet and cold, 
creep close to their friend. "Etah, etah" (my 
father), they say, looking up at him pitifully* 
In a flash he remembers that not far off is a 

227 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

deserted log cabin which he chanced to find on 
a previous journey. Making a landing, they 
follow him along the bank and at nightfall reach 
the blessed shelter. Here they build a rousing 
fire and dry their clothes. As they sit about 
the blazing logs they fancy that all the sun- 
beams that had shone upon the growing tree 
are dancing merrily in the flames. The next 
morning the sun comes out as if to make up 
for all the stormy days and nights that have 
ever vexed weary travelers, and they go on 
their way with renewed courage. 

"The two qualities most needed in Alaska," 
said Bishop Bowe, "are an instinct for finding 
one's way, and bulldog grit." He certainly 
has these two requisites, as well as "animate 
faith and love." Wherever he goes to remote 
Indian villages or Eskimo igloos; to deserted 
mining centers whose numbers have dwindled 
from thousands to a forlorn score ; to thriving 
cities like Sitka, Nome, and Fairbanks, which 
have electric lights, telephones, and many of the 
luxuries as well as the comforts of civilization 
he brings a message of hope. To those who 
hunger without knowing what they lack, he 

228 



SHEPHERD OF "THE GREAT COUNTRY" 

brings the Bread of Life the glad tidings of 
a God of love. 

In 1907, it was decided to transfer Bishop 
Rowe from his frontier post to Colorado. 
"You have served faithfully where the laborers 
are few and the hardships are many," it was 
said. "You must now guard your powers for 
a long life of service." 

"I appreciate with deep gratitude the kind- 
ness," replied the missionary bishop, "but I 
feel that in view of present conditions I must 
decline the honor of the transfer and continue 
in Alaska, God helping me." 

So the Shepherd of "the Great Country" is 
faithful to his charge and his flock, asking not 
a lighter task but rather greater strength for 
the work that is his. Like the giant-saint of 
the legend, he serves with his might the unseen 
King who reigns through love in the hearts of 
men. 



229 



A HERO OF FLIGHT: 
SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY 



A tool is but the extension of a man's hand, and a ma- 
chine is but a complex tool. And he that invents a ma- 
chine augments the power of man and the well-being of 
mankind. 

HENRY WARD BEECHER. 



A HERO OF FLIGHT 

A BOY was lying on his back in a clover- 
sweet pasture, looking up dreamily at 
the white clouds that were drifting about on 
the calm blue sea of the sky. The field sloped 
down to the beach, and the salt breath of the 
ocean came to him on the passing breeze. All 
at once his eye was caught by something that 
made him start up suddenly, all alert attention. 
It was a sea-gull rising into the air, its wings 
flashing white in the bright sunshine. 

"How does he do it?" he said aloud. "How 
is it that he can float about like that without 
any effort I It is just when he begins to mount 
into the air that he flaps his wings ; now he is 
hardly moving them at all. He seems to be 
held up by the air just as a kite is!" 

This was not the first time that young Samuel 
Langley had watched the flight of the sea-gulls. 

233 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

And the sight of a hawk circling above the tree- 
tops could always set him a-staring. 

1 * There must be something about the air that 
makes it easy," he pondered. "The birds 
know the secret, but I can't even guess it!" 

That night at dinner the boy was more than 
usually thoughtful. 

"Father," he said after a long silence, "don't 
you think it might be possible for people to 
make some sort of an airship thing to sail 
through the air, without any gas bag to carry 
it up?" 

"Have you heard that there is such a thing 
as the law of gravity, son?" quizzed the father, 
banteringly. "What goes up must come down, 
you know." 

"But, Father," the boy persisted, "the 
hawks and gulls are much heavier than the air. 
There is nothing of the balloon sort about 
them." 

"But they have wings, my boy, and they 
know how to fly/' returned Mr. Langley, look- 
ing at the lad's puckered brow with amused 
indulgence. 

"Well, Father," retorted Sam, flushing under 
234 



SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY 

the teasing smiles that were directed at him, 
"I 'm sure it 's not such a joke after all. Why 
shouldn't people learn how to make wings and 
to fly!" 

"Come down to earth, Samuel, and don't get 
too far from the ground in your wonderings, ' * 
advised his father. " There are enough prob- 
lems on the good old earth to keep you busy. 
Your idea has not even the merit of being new 
and original. The myths of Greece tell us that 
'way back in the legendary past people envied 
the flight of birds. But all those who have 
tried to do the trick have, like Icarus who went 
too near the sun with his marvelous wax wings, 
come back to earth rather too abruptly for com- 
fort." 

As the days went by, Samuel Langley did 
indeed turn his attention to other questions, but 
the problem suggested by the bird's flight was 
not forgotten. Years afterward when he had 
become one of the most distinguished scientists 
of his time he used often to say: "Knowledge 
begins in wonder. Set a child to wondering 
and you have put him on the road to under- 
standing. " 

235 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

He often liked to recall the days of his boy- 
hood when he had first set his feet on the path 
that led to the great interests which made his 
life. 

1 1 There are two incidents little chance hap- 
penings, you might call them, if you believe in 
chance " he said, "which took root and grew 
with the years. One was my discovery of the 
fascinations of my father's telescope. I re- 
member watching the workmen lay the stones 
of Bunker Hill Monument through that glass. 
It taught me the joy of bringing far-away things 
into intimate nearness. I learned that the man 
who knows how to use the magic glasses of 
science can say, 'Far or forgot to me is near!' " 

The great scientist smiled musingly to him- 
self; he seemed to have slipped away from his 
friend and the talk of the moment. Was he 
back in his boyhood when he first looked at the 
moon's face through his magic glass, or was 
he pondering over some new problem concern- 
ing sun spots which was puzzling learned as- 
tronomers the world over! 

"What was the other incident you spoke of, 
Professor?" reminded his companion timidly, 

236 



SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY 

for it was not easy to get Dr. Langley to speak 
about himself, and the spell of this rare hour 
might easily be broken. 

"What is it! oh, yes," he went on, picking 
up the thread, "the other epoch-making time 
of my young life was the lazy hour when I lay 
stretched out in an open field watching the 
flight of the hawks and gulls circling overhead. 
I noted that their wings were motionless except 
when they turned them at a different angle to 
meet a new current of wind. I began then 
dimly to suspect that the invisible ocean of the 
air was an unknown realm of marvelous pos- 
sibilities. It may be that that idle holiday 
afternoon had more to do with the serious work 
of the after years than the plodding hours de- 
voted to Latin grammar." 

Samuel Langley had a mind of the wonder- 
ing not the wandering sort. Everything 
that he saw set him to questioning, comparing, 
and reasoning. When he noticed the curious 
way in which nature has made many creatures 
so like the place in which they live that they 
can easily hide from their enemies, he said to 
himself: "It is strange that the insects which 

237 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

live in trees are green, while those that live on 
the ground are brown. It must be that the 
ones who were not so luckily colored were 
quickly picked off, and that only those that can 
hide in this clever way are able to hold their 
own." When he noticed that brightly colored 
flowers were not so fragrant as white ones, he 
said, "The sweet blossoms don't need gay col- 
ors to attract their insect friends/* When he 
saw early spring vegetables growing in a hot- 
bed, he said: "How does that loose covering 
keep them warm? There must be something 
that makes heat under there." Years later he 
said, "I believe the questions that I kept put- 
ting to myself every time I went by a certain 
garden not far from our house marked the 
starting-point of my investigations into the 
work of the sun's rays in heating the earth. 
The day came when the idea flashed upon me 
that the air surrounding our planet acts just 
like a hotbed, conserving enough warmth to 
make possible the conditions of life we require." 
Everything in Samuel Langley's world ani- 
mals, plants, rocks, air, and water had its won- 
der story and its challenge. There was always 

238 



SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY 

some question to be puzzled over. Science was 
not, however, the only passion of his early years. 
His delight in beauty was just as keen as his 
thirst for knowledge. He noted with loving 
appreciation the changing lights and shades of 
Nature 's face. He had an eye for * * the look of 
things, ' ' which means that he had something of 
a gift for drawing. 

After completing the course of the Boston 
High School, he turned his attention to civil 
engineering and architecture. t ' I did not go to 
college because I had to think about paying my 
own way through life," he said, "and I argued 
that a chap who was fond of mathematics and 
drawing should be able to do some good work 
in the way of building even if he did not suc- 
ceed in laying the foundation of either fame or 
fortune. Besides, it seemed to me that while 
doing work that was not uninteresting, I should 
be near the things that were already part of my 
life ; there would be chance and encouragement 
for further scientific study." 

Going to Chicago when he was twenty-three 
years of age, Mr. Langley worked for seven 
years in his chosen profession, gaining in addi- 

239 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

tion to a comfortable income, practical business 
experience and unusual skill in drafting. All 
this time his interest in scientific problems was 
pulling him away from the beaten path of prac- 
tical achievement. His intellect was of the 
hardy, pioneer sort that longs to press on where 
man has never ventured to make new paths, 
not to follow in the footsteps of others. 

In 1864 the young scientist of thirty years 
determined upon a bold move. He definitely 
retired from his profession, returned to New 
England, and for three years devoted his time 
to building telescopes. He knew something of 
the magician's joy as he planned and developed 
the special features of his ''magic glasses." 
The boy who had thrilled over the marvels of 
the starry heavens which his father's telescope 
had revealed was alive within him, exulting to 
find that he could construct instruments many 
times more powerful. 

"I have never outgrown my love of fairy 
books," he said. "To one who spends his time 
with the wonders that science reveals, the im- 
mortal wonder tales of childhood seem truer 
than any other stories. I delight in the adven- 

240 



SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY 

tures of the youth Who had found the cap of 
invisibility; then I turn to my telescope which 
brings the invisible into the world that the eye 
knows. Children and men of science belong to 
the same realm; no one else has the proper ap- 
preciation of true magic. " 

After his close work with the telescopes, this 
lover of macvels spent a happy year in Europe, 
visiting observatories, museums, and art gal- 
leries. It was at this time that he decided that 
astronomy was to be the serious business of 
his days, and art the chief delight of his hours 
of recreation. He was offered the place of as- 
sistant in the Harvard Observatory by Profes- 
sor Winlock, in spite of the fact that he had had 
no university training. 

1 ' This self-made astronomer has a seeing eye, 
a careful hand, and the instinct for observa- 
tion, ' ' said Joseph Winlock approvingly. ' ' Be- 
sides he has, if I am not mistaken, the imagina- 
tion to use in a large and constructive way the 
facts that his experiments yield. He has the 
making of an original scientist. " 

His feet once planted on the first round of 
the ladder of expert knowledge, advancement 

241 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

was rapid. It might well seem to many pass- 
ing strange that a man who had written noth- 
ing, discovered nothing, and who, moreover, had 
no brilliant university record behind him, should 
at once win recognition from the most learned 
specialists of the day. 

"What was there about Langley that earned 
his rapid promotions?" it was asked. 

"There was nothing that remotely hinted at 
influence or favoritism," said one who knew 
him well. "He was impersonal and retiring 
to a degree. But he had in rare combination 
an open, alert mind and a capacity for hard 
work." 

After two years at the Harvard Observatory, 
he went to the Naval Academy at Annapolis as 
professor of mathematics and director of the 
observatory. A year later he accepted the pro- 
fessorship of astronomy and physics in the 
Western University at Pittsburg. For twenty 
years he filled this position and also that of 
director of the Allegheny Observatory, which 
under his leadership became the center of very 
important work. 

When he took charge at the new observatory, 
242 



SAMUEL PIEEPONT LANGLEY 

he found no apparatus for scientific observa- 
tions beyond a telescope, and no funds avail- 
able for the purchase of the absolutely neces- 
sary instruments. How was he to obtain the 
expensive tools which he required for his work ! 

"If I can show the practical importance of 
astronomical observations, the means will be 
forthcoming, " he said. 

At this moment a wonderful inspiration came 
to the professor. In traveling about the coun- 
try he had been strongly impressed with the 
need of some standard system of keeping time. 
He believed that science ought to be able to 
come to the rescue and bring order out of con- 
fusion. 

"This is my chance, " he now said, as he 
looked about his empty observatory. "If I can 
prove to the managers of the Pennsylvania 
Railroad that I can furnish them with a time- 
keeping system that will do away with the in- 
convenience of changing time with every forty 
or fifty miles of travel and all the troublesome 
reckonings and adjustments which that entails, 
I feel assured that they will provide the equip- 
ment which I need.'* 

243 



HEEOES OF TO-DAY 

It often happens that the learned masters of 
science are entirely removed in their interests 
and experience from the every-day world of 
business. They work in a sphere apart, and the 
offices of some practical middleman with an in- 
ventive turn of mind are required to make their 
discoveries of any immediate value. Professor 
Langley, on the contrary, had an appreciation 
of the demands of business, as well as the vital 
interests of science. He had lived in both 
worlds. Now, through his competent grasp of 
the needs of such a railroad center as Pittsburg, 
where the East and the "West meet, he succeeded 
in working out a plan that was so sane and 
practical that it immediately recommended it- 
self to the busy men in control of transporta- 
tion problems. His observatory was provided 
with the apparatus for which he longed, and 
twice a day it automatically flashed out through 
signals, the exact time to all the stations on the 
Pennsylvania Eailroad, a system controlling 
some eight thousand miles of lines. To Pro- 
fessor Langley, more than to any other person 
is due the effective regulation of standard time 
throughout the country. 

244 



SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY 

During the years of hard work at Pittsburg, 
Professor Langley was invited to join several 
important scientific expeditions. These were 
the holidays of his busy life. His efficient work 
as leader of a coast survey party to Kentucky 
in 1869 to observe an eclipse of the sun won 
for him the opportunity to join the government 
expedition to Spain to study the eclipse of 1870. 
In the summer of 1878, he took a party of 
scientists to Pike's Peak, and that winter he 
went to Mt. Etna for some further experiments 
on the heights. An article called " Wintering 
on Mount Etna," which appeared in the " At- 
lantic Monthly, ' ' proved that he could not only 
do important work in original research but that 
he could also write about it in a way calculated 
to appeal to the average reader. 

During these years Professor Langley de- 
voted a great deal of time and thought to astro- 
physics. This science, which is sometimes 
called "the new astronomy," is concerned with 
special heat and light problems of the heavenly 
bodies more especially, of course, with investi- 
gations and measurements of the radiant en- 
ergy of the sun. To carry on his experiments 

245 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

he invented a wonderful electrical instrument 
called the bolometer, which is so delicately con- 
structed for measuring heat that when one 
draws near to look at it the warmth of his face 
has a perceptible effect. 

Professor Langley's tests proved that the 
lantern of the fire-fly gives a cheaper form of 
light than is to be found anywhere else. Here 
Nature has demonstrated the possibility of pro- 
viding illumination with no waste of energy in 
heat or in any other way. All the force goes 
into the light, while man's devices for defeat- 
ing darkness waste as much as ninety-nine per 
cent, of the energy consumed. 

The Pittsburg years were rich in the joy of 
work well done, but they gave little of the in- 
spiration and stimulus that comes from con- 
genial companionship. For the most part, he 
had to content himself with the society of his 
book friends. The number of his solitary hours 
may be to a certain extent measured by the 
astonishing range of his reading. 

"Why, Mr. Langley, I do believe you have 
read every book that ever was written!" said 
an admiring young lady on one occasion. 

246 





Samuel Pierpont Langley 



SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY 

"Oh, no," he replied dryly, with the hint of 
a twinkle in his eyes, "there are six that I have 
not read as yet." 

In 1886, when he was offered the position of 
assistant secretary of the Smithsonian Institu- 
tion at Washington, he accepted without hesita- 
tion, because he felt that he would have a chance 
for association with his brother scientists. 

The next year, when he had succeeded Pro- 
fessor Baird as head of the Institution, he at 
once inaugurated a change in the character of 
its publications. "If the Smithsonian is to live 
up to the ideal of its founder 'in increasing 
knowledge among men,' the written accounts of 
its work must be plain and interesting enough 
to appeal to people of ordinary education and 
intelligence," he said. 

It was largely due to his efforts that the Na- 
tional Zoological Park was created. "We must 
have not only live books but live specimens," 
he said. "The stuffed and mounted creatures 
are well enough in their way, but they have 
monopolized too much attention." 

For a while there was a small zoo housed in 
cages and kennels almost under the eaves of 

249 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

the Smithsonian offices, until sufficient interest 
could be aroused in Congress to secure a tract 
of land along Rock Creek for a national park. 
Here at last Professor Langley realized his 
dream of a pleasure-ground for the people, 
where there might be preserved in places like 
their natural haunts on hillsides, in rocky 
caves, or along streams specimens of the ani- 
mal life of the world, which is in a large meas- 
ure disappearing before the advance of man. 
Remembering how his interest in scientific 
problems had begun in his childhood when he 
had stopped to wonder about the things that 
attracted his attention, Professor Langley fitted 
up a place in the Smithsonian especially for 
children. Opposite the front door, in a room 
bright with sunshine, singing birds, and aqua- 
riums of darting gold-fish, he put the sort of 
things that all boys and girls would like to 
see. There you may see the largest and small- 
est birds in the world, the largest and smallest 
eggs, and specimens of the birds that all chil- 
dren meet in their story-books, such as the 
raven, rook, magpie, skylark, starling, and 
nightingale. There, too, are all sorts of curious 

250 



SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY 

nests; eggs of water birds that look like peb- 
bles ; insects that exactly mimic twigs or leaves, 
and so can hide in the most wonderful way; 
beautiful butterflies and humming-birds; and 
shells, coral, and all kinds of curious creatures 
from the bottom of the sea. 

It is said that once a lady who sat next Pro- 
fessor Langley at a dinner-party and found him 
apparently uninterested in all her attempts at 
conversation, suddenly asked, "Is there any- 
thing at all, Mr. Wiseman, which you really 
care to talk about!" 

The professor roused himself from his fit of 
abstraction with a start. Then he smiled and 
said, "Yes, two things children and f airy- 
tales. " 

It was the lady's turn to look surprised and 
smile. 

"Now I understand how you were able to 
make that Children's Room so exactly what it 
should be," she said. "Only some one who 
understood wonder and loved the wonderful 
could have done it!" 

While Professor Langley was working in this 
way to make the institution of which he was 

251 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

head a greater power for teaching and inspira- 
tion in the lives of the people, he was not re- 
laxing any of his own efforts as a scientific 
investigator. An astrophysical observatory 
was founded and there he went on with his 
special studies and experiments in regard to the 
properties of sunlight. When people wanted to 
know the practical value of his minute observa- 
tions he used to say: 

" All truth works for man if you give it time ; 
the application is never far to seek. The ex- 
pert knowledge of to-day becomes the inventor's 
tool to-morrow." 

But while he was working over the problems 
of sun-spots, and making drawings of the sur- 
face of the sun that bear witness to his patience 
no less than to his skill, he became vitally inter- 
ested in the subject of mechanical flight. For 
at last he had made an opportunity to work on 
the problem that had fascinated him ever since 
he was a boy. " Nature has solved the prob- 
lem of flight, why not, man?" he said. 

He soon became convinced that the mathe- 
matical formulas given in the books concerning 
the increase of power with increase of velocity 

252 



SAMUEL PIEEPONT LANGLEY 

were all wrong. "At that rate, a swallow 
would have to have the strength of a man!" 
he exclaimed. He devised a sort of whirling 
table with surfaces like wings to test with ex- 
actness just how much horse-power was re- 
quired to hold up a surface of a certain weight 
while moving rapidly through the air, and by 
this means discovered and demonstrated the 
fundamental law of flight, known as Langley's 
Law, which tells us that the faster a body travels 
through the air the less is the energy required 
to keep it afloat. 

After proving that birds are held up like 
kites by pressure of the air against the under 
surface of their wings, he made experiments to 
show that their soaring flight is aided by "the 
internal work of the wind," that is, by shifts in 
the currents of air, particularly by rising 
trends, which the winged creatures utilize by 
instinct. Watch a hawk as it circles through 
the air, dipping its wings now at this angle, 
now at that, and you will realize that the wind 
is his true and tried ally. He trusts himself to 
the sweep and swirl of the air, just as a swim- 
mer relies on the buoyancy of the water. 

253 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

Having demonstrated so much through ex- 
periments with his whirling table, Dr. Langley 
determined to construct a real flying-machine, 
with wide-spreading planes to sustain it in the 
air while it was driven along by a steam-engine 
which furnished power to the propellers. This 
machine, which he called an "aerodrome" (air 
run), was put to the test on the sixth of May, 
1896. Dr. Alexander Graham Bell, who was 
present at the trial and who took pictures of the 
machine in mid-air, declared, ' ' No one who wit- 
nessed the extraordinary spectacle of a steam- 
engine flying with wings in the air, like a great 
soaring bird, could doubt for one moment the 
practicability of mechanical flight." 

Now that he had succeeded in solving the 
problem from the scientific standpoint, Profes- 
sor Langley wished to leave the task of develop- 
ing the idea in a practical, commercial way to 
others. There was, however, a popular demand 
for him to carry on his experiments with a 
model large enough to carry a man, and $50,000 
was appropriated for the purpose by the Gov- 
ernment on the recommendation of President 

254 



SAMUEL PIERPONT LANGLEY 

McKinley and the Board of Ordnance and For- 
tification of the War Department. 

Professor Langley constructed the giant bird- 
machine and selected a secluded spot near Quan- 
tico on the Potomac below Washington for the 
trial. The place was not remote enough, how- 
ever, to escape the watchful enterprise of the 
newspaper reporters. A number of them 
flocked to the spot and actually camped out 
near the scene. When any one approached the 
great house-boat on which the aerodrome was 
perched ready for launching, they got into boats 
and gathered about to see everything that 
should take place. 

And now there happened one of the most 
tragic things in all the history of scientific en- 
deavor. After vainly waiting for a moment of 
comparative privacy for his tests, Dr. Langley 
decided that delay was no longer possible, and 
in the presence of a cloud of unfriendly wit- 
nesses who had been irritated by the failure of 
the perverse scientists to furnish " scoops" for 
their papers essayed the first flight. 

A rocket shot up in the air as a signal to the 
255 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

inventor's assistants to stand by to give aid in 
case of mishap. There was a sound as of the 
whirring of many mighty wings when the huge 
launching- spring shot the aerodrome off from 
its resting-place on the house-boat. For a mo- 
ment the enormous bird-thing was in the air; 
then, instead of rising and soaring, it floundered 
helplessly and fell into the water. There had 
been a defect in the launching, and the machine 
did not have a chance to show what it could do. 
This so-called trial was really no test at all. 

The reporters, however, had an opportunity 
to show what they could do. The next day all 
the newspapers of the country printed long 
articles describing the spectacular failure of 
the man of learning who had left the safe and 
sane ways of scientific investigation to attempt 
the impossible. "Langley's folly," they called 
the poor aerodrome. Men read the story at 
their breakfast tables and said with a laugh, 
" * Langley's folly' indeed! For the choicest 
sort of foolishness you have to go to these fel- 
lows with the three-decker brains ! ' ' 

There was such a popular hue and cry that 
Congress refused to allow any more money to 

256 



SAMUEL PIEEPONT LANGLEY 

be used on the flying-machine venture. In vain 
did the men who were really in a position to 
know and judge, like Professor Bell and other 
scientists, say that the seeming failure had 
meant nothing at all but an unfortunate acci- 
dent at the moment of launching. The ridicule 
of the crowd outweighed the words of the wise. 
Most people felt just as Dr. Langley's father 
had when his boy talked of making a machine 
that should sail through the air as a bird does. 

Two years after the failure of his hopes, Dr. 
Langley died. It was said that his disappoint- 
ment had helped to bring on the illness which 
caused his death. He never for a moment, how- 
ever, lost faith in the future of his airship. 

"I have done the best I could in a difficult 
task," he said, "with results which, it may be 
hoped, will be useful to others. The world 
must realize that a new possibility has come 
to it, and that the great universal highway over- 
head is soon to be opened." 

While the crowd was still laughing at the 
absurdity of man's attempting to fly, there were 
those who were seriously at work on the prob- 
lem. After success had crowned their efforts 

257 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

and their aeroplane was the marvel of the hour, 
the Wright brothers declared that it was the 
knowledge that the head of the most prominent 
scientific institution in America believed in the 
possibility of human flight which had led them 
to undertake their work. * ' He recommended to 
us, moreover, the books which enabled us to 
form sane ideas at the outset, " they said. "It 
was a helping hand at a critical time, and we 
shall always be grateful." 

So it was that the work of our hero of flight 
was carried on, as he had faith that it would 
be. Is it not strange to reflect to-day, when 
aeroplanes are used so generally in the Great 
War, that it is only a little more than a decade 
since people were laughing at "Langley's 
folly"! 

For ten years the ill-fated aerodrome hung 
suspended among the curiosities in the Na- 
tional Museum. Then in May, 1914, Mr. Glenn 
H. Curtiss obtained permission from the Gov- 
ernment to make some trial flights in the first 
of the heavier-than-air flying craft. After 
making a brief skimming flight above the water 
of Lake Keuka, New York, he declared that with 

258 



SAMUEL PIEBPONT LANGLEY 

a more powerful engine the pioneer aeroplane 
could sustain itself perfectly in the air. 

Returned in triumph to the museum, it now 
shares honors with the models of Watt 's steam- 
engine, the first steam-boat, and other epoch- 
making inventions. "Langley's folly" is com- 
pletely vindicated, and Samuel Pierpont Lang- 
ley is to-day numbered as chief among the many 
heroes of flight. 



259 



A POET-SOLDIER: RUPERT BROOKE 



If I should die, think only this of me: 

That there 's some corner of a foreign field 
That is forever England. There shall be 

In that rich earth a richer dust concealed; 
A dust whom England bore, shaped, made aware, 

Gave, once, her flowers to love, her ways to roam, 
A body of England's, breathing English air, 

Washed by the rivers, blest by suns of home. 

RUPERT BROOKE. 



A POET-SOLDIEE 

IT sometimes happens that a hero is remem- 
bered more for the true man he was than 
for any fair deeds he may have wrought. Such 
a man was that "very perfect gentle knight," 
Sir Philip Sidney. A scholar and a poet, a 
courtier and a soldier, he walked with grave 
men without becoming dull and with kings with- 
out becoming vain. In the "spacious times of 
great Elizabeth," when brave men like Gren- 
ville, Drake, and Ealeigh were finding a new 
world overseas for England, and rare souls 
like those of the Mermaid Tavern Ben Jonson, 
Christopher Marlowe, and "best Shakespeare," 
himself were building up a mighty kingdom 
of the mind and heart, Sir Philip Sidney was a 
bright figure in the realms of high adventure 
and of song. 

It was not because of epic deeds or lyric 
verse, however, that all England mourned the 

263 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

death of the young soldier. It is not for his 
sword or for his song that he lives in the death- 
less company of England's heroes, but for his 
knightly heart. The oft-repeated tale of how, 
mortally wounded, he forgot his own parching 
thirst and held out the water they brought him 
to a dying comrade, with the words, * ' Thy need 
is greater than mine," lives in memory because 
in it the true Sidney still lives. 

This is the story of one who has been called 
the Sidney of our own day a young poet to 
whom the gods, it seemed, had given all their 
best gifts, graces of body and of mind. When 
it was known that he had gone to "do his bit" 
in the great war, people said fearfully, "Death 
loves a shining mark ! ' ' When news came that 
he was dead, it seemed as if the shadow of loss 
could never be lightened. Yet it is not for the 
song of the poet or the sacrifice of the soldier 
that he will be remembered, but for something 
rare and beautiful in the man himself that won 
the hearts of all who knew him. 

They said of Rupert Brooke, * ' He is the ideal 
youth of England of merry England!" It 
seemed as if something of all that was fair and 

264 



RUPERT BROOKE 

brave and free in English days and English 
ways had passed into the bright blueness of 
his eyes, the warm glow under the tan of his 
cheeks, and the live, shining hair that waved 
back from his broad clear brow. 

From the very beginning his country took 
him to herself. He first saw the light of a 
summer day at Rugby, under the shadow of 
the ivy-covered turrets where that great friend 
of boys, Thomas Arnold, was headmaster in 
the days of Tom Brown. Rupert's father was 
assistant master at the school, and so the boy 
grew up on "The Close,' 7 where the happy 
haunts of many happy boys were the charmed 
playground of his earliest years, and the foot- 
ball field the ringing plain of his first dreams 
of glory and achievement. 

"What a wonderful world it was to be born 
into, that little England that was mine," said 
Rupert, "and how it seemed as if the days 
were not half long enough for one to taste all 
the joys they brought. How I loved every- 
thing sights and sounds, the feel and breath 
of living, stirring things! I loved not only 
rainbows and dewdrops sparkling in cool flow- 

265 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

ers, but also footprints in the dew and washed 
stones gay for an hour. Wet roofs beneath 
the lamplight had their gleam of enchantment, 
and the blue bitter smoke of an autumn fire was 
like magic incense." 

Most people have eyes to see only that which 
is exceptional the exclamation marks of na- 
ture's round, like sunset, moonrise, mountains 
wrapped in purple mists, or still water under 
a starry sky. They do not see the beauty in 
the changes of the common daylight, in familiar 
trees, a winding path, and a few dooryard 
posies. 

But Rupert noted with lingering tenderness 
the shapes and colors of all the simple daily 
things. 

"White plates and cups, clean-gleaming, 
Ringed with blue lines; and feathery, faery dust; 
And oaks; and brown horse-chestnuts, glossy-new; 
And new-peeled sticks; and shining pools on grass; 
All these have been my loves " 

he said, when dreaming fondly and whimsically 
of his boyish days. And how he loved little 
shy, half -hidden things elfin moss flowers, 
downy curled-up ferns under the dry leaves, 

266 



KUPERT BROOKE 

the musty smell of the dead leaves themselves 
and of the moist, moldy earth. But he was 
never one of those who must seek beauty in the 
haunts of nature untouched by man. The 
splendid copper beech, kingly and kind, in the 
headmaster's garden, and Dr. Arnold's own 
fern-leaved tree, whose tender gleams and flick- 
erings gladdened every one who lingered in its 
shade, were dearer than any aloof forest mon- 
archs could have been. 

It seemed as if all the things that Rupert saw 
and loved somehow became part of himself. 
Something of the swift life of darting birds, of 
quivering winged insects, and furtive scurrying 
creatures in fur was in the alert swiftness of 
his lithe young body. One found oneself think- 
ing of fair fields under a bright sky, of hedge- 
rows abloom, of all the singing, golden warmth 
that makes an English summer sweet, in looking 
into the glowing beauty of the boy's eager 
face. 

"Rupert can't be spoiled or he would have 
been long ago," said one of the Rugby boys. 
"He never stops to bother about what people 
say of him. Of course a chap who can play 

267 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

football and carry off school honors at the same 
time has something better to think about." 

It was true that young Brooke found his 
world full of many absorbing things. He was 
already entering upon the poet's kingdom. 
Words, he found, could work mighty spells. 
All the rich pageantry of the days of knights 
and crusaders passed before him as a few verses 
sounded in his ears. Another line and he 
saw 

. . . magic casements, opening on the foam 
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn. 

How splendid it would be to make fine, thrill- 
ing things live in words! He knew, though, 
that he could never live in the past or in the 
dream pictures that fancy painted. His life 
was in the real things of the present, and his 
song must be of the life he knew and felt. 
Would he ever be able to find singing words for 
all the singing life about him and within f 

Sometimes he all but gave up the trial. How 
foolish to bother about writing poems when one 
might live them! A rush a fine scrimmage 
a chance for the goal life in doing that was 
better than any printed page. As he played on 

268 



EUPEET BEOOKE 

the eleven for Eugby it seemed as if mind and 
body were one. Life was strength and swift- 
ness, and victory after effort. 

But the young athlete, who knew the joy of 
playing and winning for his school, swept on 
by the cheers of his comrades, knew too the 
joy in the play of the mind, urged on by the 
secret longing of his heart. This inner athlete 
"rejoiced as a strong man to run a race" when 
he wrote his prize poem, "The Bastille." He 
laughed to himself to think of how he had gone 
to the traditions of an old French prison for 
inspiration for the finest, freest verse he had 
yet made. It was plain now that he must be a 
poet. The things he loved should find an im- 
mortal life in his song. His successes at cricket 
and football could not compare with this tri- 
umph. There was no power like the mastery 
of the mind. 

Going from Eugby to Cambridge, he soon 
won an enviable reputation as a man of parts 
and a poet of much promise. His keen appreci- 
ative mind, his ready wit and personal charm, 
made him a favorite with the best men of the 
university. 

269 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

"I do not see why he need be a poet," said 
Henry James, the American novelist and critic, 
who lived for many years in England. "Any 
one who can give such all around satisfaction 
as a human being should not be encouraged to 
specialize. Surely one who can be so much that 
makes life more worth while for every one who 
knows him, ought not to have to struggle to do 
things. ' ' 

Rupert had other friends of this mind, but as 
the months went by and the youth grew to the 
full stature of his manhood, the longing to 
win fuller power as a poet grew with him. 
More than ever it seemed the one gift he would 
have. Not as others had sung, but a new song 
for a new age would he sing. He could 
never be merely "an idle singer of an empty 
day." 

In the meantime he carried off the prize of 
a fellowship at King's College, which gave him 
means to go on with his study and writing. 
Just as scholarship helps a student with his col- 
lege expenses, so a fellowship gives a graduate 
an income to enable him to carry forward some 
special work for which he has proved particu- 

270 



RUPERT BROOKE 

lar fitness, and which bids fair to be of value to 
the world. 

The fellowship allowed Rupert Brooke to 
study where he would. He spent a year in 
Germany in Munich and Berlin but he 
learned there, above everything else, a new ap- 
preciation of his own England. In his charm- 
ing, whimsical poem "Grantchester," written 
in Berlin in May, 1912, he pictures his home by 
the river Cam in lilac time, and nothing in the 
perfectly regulated, efficient German world that 
surrounds him can compare with that place his 
heart knows. 

. . . there the dews 
Are soft beneath a morn of gold. 
Here tulips bloom as they are told; 
Unkempt about those hedges blowa 
An English unofficial rose; . . . 
... I will pack, and take a train, 
And get me to England once again! 
~?or England's the one land, I know, 
Where men with Splendid Hearts may go; 
And Cambridgeshire, of all England, 
The shire for Men who Understand; 
And of that district I prefer 
The lovely hamlet Grantchester. 

Once again at home in the cozy vicarage at 
Grantchester, when he tired of his book-littered 

271 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

study he could walk through the shadowy green 
tunnel that the great chestnut trees made beside 
the river and dream of the poems that he would 
some day have power to call into being. More 
than anything else he loved to swim in the 
laving waters of "Byron's Pool," at night or in 
the magic half-light of dawn. Then it seemed 
as if the past and the present were one, and 
as if the shades of those other poets who had 
found refreshment and inspiration near that 
same fair stream came again to linger lovingly 
by its waters. 

Still in the dawnlit waters cool 
His ghostly lordship swims his pool, 
And tries the strokes, essays the tricks, 
Long learnt on Hellespont, or Styx. 
Dan Chaucer hears his river still 
Chatter beneath a phantom mill. 
Tennyson notes, with studious eye, 
How Cambridge waters hurry by. . . . 
And in that garden, black and white, 
Creep whispers through the grass all night. 

He felt himself in a very real sense "heir of 
all the ages" as his body cut and darted through 
the water; the life of the past no less than the 
life of the present surrounded him, buoyed him 

272 




Rupert Brooke 



EUPERT BROOKE 

up. His clean strokes gave him a sense of 
happy mastery. 

Diving, however, was another matter. Again 
and again he made the trial, but always landed 
flat. The unfeeling surface of Lord Byron's 
pool would all but slap the breath out of his 
defenseless body, but he ever came up gallantly 
to a new plunge until his muscles had learned 
their trick. What joy when he won his first 
happy high dive "into cleanness leaping" 
with keen lithe grace. That morning, sky and 
water were one tender, rose-tinged, rippling 
coolness of silver gray, and the breakfast spread 
in the dewy garden was a feast for gods and 
heroes. The eggs were golden fare indeed, and 
the honey tasted of hawthorn and apple blos- 
soms. 

With a like persistency, he practised diving 
of another sort. Again and again he essayed 
the plunge far below the surface of every-day 
thoughts and fancies in the hope of bringing 
up the perfect pearl of his dreams a poem in 
which the white light of truth should be all 
fair-rounded, pure-gleaming beauty. "I can 
feel the one thing that is worth while, and it 

275 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

seems as if I had it in my hand," he mourned, 
"but when I look there is only a wisp of sea- 
weed, and a shell or two with echoes in their 
pearly coils of the eternal whisper of the 
waves!" 

"Your life is too much an unbroken round 
of happy happenings," hinted one of his friends. 
"If you could run away into the wilds for a 
time away from your many admiring friends 
and the chatter of afternoon teas and tennis 
courts you might find yourself more in touch 
with the big things you long for." 

"I think I '11 try a trip to America," resolved 
the young poet. "There may be some sort of 
a new world still to be discovered in the States 
or Canada or beyond among the islands of 
the South Seas." 

In his "Letters from America," which ap- 
peared first in the "Westminster Gazette" and 
were afterward published with a biographical 
introduction by Henry James, we have some of 
his off-hand impressions of the New World. 
We get glimpses of New York Harbor at night 
and in the early morning, as a poet sees it. 
We see the crowds and electric glaro of Broad- 

276 



RUPERT BROOKE 

way with something of the detached amusement 
that a careless and idly curious traveler from 
another planet might feel. And we see a Har- 
vard-Yale baseball game and the 1913 Com- 
mencement at Cambridge with the eyes of that 
elder Cambridge across the Atlantic. This is 
the way the one-time cricketer and football 
champion viewed his first "ball game." 

When I had time to observe the players, who were prac- 
tising about the ground, I was shocked. They wear dust- 
colored shirts and dingy knickerbockers, fastened under 
the knee, and heavy boots. They strike the English eye 
as being attired for football, or a gladiatorial combat, 
rather than a summer game. The very close-fitting caps, 
with large peaks, give them picturesquely the appearance 
of hooligans. Baseball is a good game to watch, and in 
outline easy to understand, as it is merely glorified round- 
ers. A cricketer is fascinated by their rapidity and skill 
in catching and throwing. There is excitement in the 
game, but little beauty except in the long-limbed "pitcher," 
whose duty it is to hurl the ball rather farther than the 
length of the cricket-pitch, as bewilderingly as possible. 
In his efforts to combine speed, mystery, and curve, he gets 
into attitudes of a very novel and fantastic, but quite 
obvious, beauty. 

One queer feature of this sport is that unoccupied mem- 
bers of the batting side, fielders, and even spectators, are 
accustomed to join in vocally. You have the spectacle of 
the representatives of the universities endeavoring to frus- 
trate or unnerve their opponents, at moments of excite- 
ment, by cries of derision and mockery, or heartening their 

277 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

own supporters and performers with exclamations of "Now, 
Joe!" or "He's got them!" or "He's the boy!" At the 
crises in the fortunes of the game, the spectators take a 
collective and important part. The Athletic Committee ap- 
points a "cheer-leader" for the occasion. Every five or ten 
minutes this gentleman, a big, fine figure in white, springs 
out from his seat at the foot of the stands, addresses the 
multitude through a megaphone with a "One! Two! 
Three !" hurls it aside, and, with a wild flinging and swing- 
ing of his body and arms, conducts ten thousand voices 
in the Harvard yell. ... It all seemed so wonderfully 
American, in its combination of entire wildness and entire 
regulation, with the whole just a trifle fantastic. . . . 

"The glimpses you give of the * States' are 
brief and, for the most part, superficial," we 
accused him, not unjustly. "You approach 
what you are pleased to call our * rag-time civ- 
ilization* in a rag- time mood.'* 

"You delightful Americans are too sensi- 
tive," he replied with his irresistible smile. 
"Of course no mere Briton could do you justice 
in a few random, hastily-flung newspaper let- 
ters. One of these days I hope to work up these 
trivial jottings in some more thoughtful and 
not unworthy fashion." 

He describes Niagara Falls, the Canadian 
Rockies, and the South Seas with a poet's ap- 
preciation, but with an irrepressible homesick- 

278 



RUPERT BROOKE 

ness for his little England. He wonders and 
admires, but misses the haunting echoes of 
humanity, the sense of a loving, lingering past, 
that make the English landscape dear : 

It is indeed a new world. How far away seem those 
grassy, moonlit places in England that have been Roman 
camps or roads, where there is always serenity, and the 
spirit of a purpose at rest, and the sunlight flashes upon 
more than flint ! Here one is perpetually a first-comer. . . . 
The flowers are less conscious than English flowers, the 
breezes have nothing to remember, and everything to prom- 
ise. There walk, as yet, no ghosts of lovers in Canadian 
lanes. . . . There is nothing lurking in the heart of the 
shadows, and no human mystery in the colors, and neither 
the same joy nor the kind of peace in dawn and sunset that 
older lands know. . . . 

In the perfect lazy content of the South Pa- 
cific isles, that are, he says, "compound of all 
legendary heavens," Rupert Brooke led a bliss- 
ful, lotus-eating existence. Nowhere had he 
even imagined such serene bodily well-being as 
he found darting, floating, and dreaming 
through the irised waves, lulled by the faint 
thunder of the surf on the distant reef. It 
seemed, too, that this must be the seventh heaven 
of song. If swimming and poetry had been 
all, home and friends might have called in vain. 

279 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

But the young poet's love of England was proof 
against every beguiling lure. Do you remem- 
ber how Tennyson in his " Palace of Art," after 
showing pictures of every sort of loveliness 
beautiful, enchanting, magical glimpses of many 
lands turns at last to this scene as best of 
all? 

And one, an English home gray twilight poured 

On dewy pastures, dewy trees, 
Softer than sleep all things in order stored, 

A haunt of ancient Peace. 

Even so Rupert Brooke, from his South Sea 
paradise, longed for the "ancient peace" of the 
old vicarage by the River Cam. Never for a 
moment did he forget that he was England's 
flesh of her flesh, soul of her soul. 

Soon after his return from his wander year, 
before his joy in all the dear home ways had 
lost any of its new zest, it seemed as if the 
old comfortable order of things might pass 
away forever. The face of his world was 
changed in a day. From a brand fired some- 
how, somewhere, in the mysterious Balkans, all 
Europe was suddenly ablaze. England awoke 
from her preoccupation with her own family 

280 



EUPEBT BROOKE 

difficulties the Irish Home-rule question, the 
disputes between capital and labor, and the mili- 
tant suffragettes. She could not see Belgium 
and France destroyed. Englishmen who had 
been reading with incredulous amazement the 
daily reports of the threatening violence of the 
continental misunderstanding, and congratu- 
lating themselves on their sane and secure aloof- 
ness, awoke to find that they were at war with 
Germany and Austria. 

Rupert Brooke was camping out that fateful 
August of 1914 in a place remote from news- 
papers with their rumors of war. Away on a 
sailing trip, he heard no news of any sort for 
the space of four days. Then on his return, 
as he stepped out on the beach with singing 
pulses and the happy tang of the salt spray 
on his lips, a telegram was put in his hands: 
"We 're at war with Germany. England has 
joined France and Russia," it read. 

It was as if all the winds of heaven had passed 
in a moment into a dreadful, breathless calm. 
In the stunned and sultry stillness that en- 
gulfed him, his whole being hung helpless like 
an empty sail. He ate and drank as one in a 

281 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

dream, and then went out alone to the top of 
a hill of gorse, where he sat looking broodingly 
at the sea and trying to understand. Over and 
over he repeated the words, "England at war 
war with Germany ! Germany! ..." Scraps 
of memories pleasant, appealing, and humor- 
ous floated by like bits of remembered tunes : 
the convivial glitter of a Berlin cafe ; the restful 
charm of a quiet-colored summer evening at 
Munich; the merry masquerade and revelry of 
carnival time; the broad peasant women sing- 
ing at their work in the fields. Could it be that 
all the wholesome, friendly world he knew there 
had changed had become a menace, a thing 
to be hated? 

Not only the Germany he knew, but the whole 
world, was trembling. The earth was not the 
stable place of solid content and cheerful 
achievement he had always taken for granted. 
A shrinking, quaking nightmare of change had 
seized the foundations of the universe in its 
trembling grip. The months ahead loomed 
gaunt and strange no days for happy work; 
no quiet evenings for untroubled friendship and 
affection; no time to "loaf and invite one's 

282 



EUPERT BROOKE 

soul"; no place for play, for music, for poetry, 
for anything that made life worth living. An 
age "of blood and iron'* had swallowed up the 
golden age. England would be merry England 
no longer. 

England ! The name rang in his ears like a 
knell. England invaded! "I realized with a 
sudden tightening of the heart," he said, "that 
the earth of England was like a loved face, like 
a friend's honor something holy. The full 
flood of what England meant to my inmost self 
swept me on from thought to thought. Gray, 
uneven little fields, and small ancient hedges 
rushed before me, wild flowers, elms and 
beeches, gentleness, sedate houses of red brick, 
proudly unassuming, a countryside of rambling 
hills and friendly copses the England that had 
given me life and light!" 

England! The name was now a trumpet 
call ! What were the piping times of peace to 
this great moment when he could go out as 
England's son to meet her foes, to keep her 
sacred soil safe from the invaders' tread? 
Aloud he said grimly, "Well, if Armageddon 'a 
on, I suppose one should be there." 

283 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

It seemed to many as if this terrible war 
must indeed be the mysterious Armageddon, 
darkly foreshadowed in the Book of Revelation 
as the war of wars, when the "kings of the 
earth and the whole world" should gather for 
the battle that would usher in the great day 
of God. It was to be the war to end war. 

Rupert Brooke, a sub-lieutenant of the Royal 
Naval Division, was one of that brave, futile 
company of Englishmen that were hastily flung 
across the Channel to the defense of Antwerp. 
Crouching in ditches, rifles in hand, they waited 
the approach of an unseen enemy whose big 
guns were shelling the outer forts from a point 
beyond the horizon line. There was nothing 
that the bravest could do but lie there amid the 
whistling, screaming shells, and fall back as 
ordered when the range of the heavy fire ad- 
vanced. The battle was fought by the great 
cannon and the scouting aeroplane that circled 
high overhead and signaled the range to the 
distant battery. 

When the forts crumbled before the bombard- 
ment pitiful hopes of the old order before the 
deadly engines of the new the city was a place 

284 



RUPERT BROOKE 

of terror and desolation. The hideous din of 
bursting shells, the crash of falling houses and 
shattering glass, mingled with the terrified cries 
of distracted fugitives. The young poet-sol- 
dier, marching in a night retreat under a black 
sky, lighted fitfully by the glare of burning vil- 
lages, saw the pathetic multitude of helpless 
refugees hurrying eastward. There were two 
small children trying to help their mother push 
a wheelbarrow piled with clothing on which 
sat the feeble, trembling grandmother. An- 
other family had loaded all their most cherished 
possessions in a little milk-cart, pulled by a 
panting dog, while a heavy-eyed lad of nine 
pushed from behind and watched to see that 
nothing was dropped by the way. Aged peas- 
ants with bundles on their backs tottered by, 
and mothers with tiny babies in their arms 
trudged wearily along, trying to comfort the 
frightened children who ran by their side or 
clung to their skirts. All had the dazed faces 
of the victims of flood or fire, who flee from the 
place that was home to the uncertain refuge of 
outer strangeness. 

It seemed to Rupert Brooke that the suffering 
285 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

he saw was his own As in the old Rugby time, 
when everything that the days brought honest 
work, hearty play, and happy comradeship, in 
a fair English land under peaceful skies was 
taken up as food for his eager life and made 
a part of himself, so now it seemed that body 
and soul alike tasted every grief and distress 
that can come to helpless humanity. There 
were new depths in the brave blue eyes that 
had seen defeated hopes and yet never doubted 
that right would triumph. The face that had 
before expressed promise, now showed power. 

All through the trying weeks that followed 
in his training-camp in England, he carried 
with him the memory of those tragic days in 
Belgium. "I would not forget if I could," he 
said steadily. "Remembering is sharing." 
And steadily, with a strength that ever cries, 
"We 're baffled that we may fight better!" he 
looked past the darkness of the present to the 
victory that his spirit saw. 

The hard monotony of the days became glori- 
ous. All his life was alight with the fervor of 
his love for his native land and his longing to 
serve her. There was room in his heart for but 

286 



EUPERT BROOKE 

one thought England ! And in the singleness 
of his devotion he felt a wonderful peace that 
outer happenings could not give or take away. 
He was safe from the chances of the changing 
days safe with "things undying. " Safe! 
That word which sometimes makes men craven, 
sounded in his ears like a note of triumph ; and 
the lines of a new song came to his lips : 

"We have built a house that is not for Time's throwing. 

We have gained a peace unshaken by pain forever. 
War knows no power. Safe shall be my going, 

Secretly armed against all death's endeavor; 
Safe though all safety's lost; safe where men fall; 

And if these poor limbs die, safest of all." 

A wonderful thing had happened. The 
young soldier who had lost many things those 
first weeks of the war carefree days and 
nights, the joy and bright confidence of youth 
had found his man's soul. And the maker of 
verses had become a true poet. In losing his 
life he had found it, and found, too, the one gift 
he had long sought in vain. 

Rupert Brooke had learned to "see life stead- 
ily and see it whole. ' ' The five ' ' 1914 sonnets ' ' 
have the wise simplicity, the deep feeling, and 
the large vision that belong to great poetry. 

287 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

When the poet-soldier embarked with the troops 
that were sent on the ill-starred Dardanelles 
campaign, he had the joy of knowing that what- 
ever might befall, something of his inmost life 
would live forever in immortal verse to stir the 
hearts of living men. 

He never reached Gallipoli. On April 23, 
1915, the day of St. Michael and St. George, he 
died, not in battle, but of illness on a French 
hospital-ship. Early in April he had suffered 
a sunstroke, but had apparently recovered. 
Then it was known that he was the victim 
of blood-poisoning. "Death loves a shining 
mark!" and "Whom the Gods love!" The 
unspoken words gripped the hearts of his com- 
rades with chill fear, yet it seemed unbelievable 
that this radiant young life should be snuffed 
out. 

The poet, himself, had a definite premonition 
of the end During the days of fever, his 
mind found now and again a cool peace in the 
memories of the past. He was a Eugby boy 
again. Now he sat in the chapel, looking at the 
light as it fell, jeweled green, blue, and ruby- 
red, through the stained glass window of the 

288 



KUPERT BROOKE 

Wise Men, that Dr. Arnold had brought from 
an old church at Aerschot, near Louvain. 
Louvain Belgium! He could not lie there 
quietly; his country needed him. He moved 
suddenly as if about to rise, and a nurse bent 
over him anxiously. But once more he was 
at Rugby, standing before the statue of the au- 
thor of "Tom Brown" and spelling out its in- 
scription as he had when a child : ' ' Watch ye. 
Stand fast in the faith. Quit ye like men. Be 
strong." Again he was on the porch leading 
to the quadrangle where the boys were assem- 
bled for house singing. How the "Floreat, 
floreat, floreat, Rugbeia" rang out! 

Was it not getting very dark? He could 
scarcely see the white figure of the nurse. Per- 
haps there was going to be a storm. . . . He 
remembered a hurricane at Rugby when he was 
only eight years old the "big storm," they al- 
ways called it. Many of the fine elms were laid 
low, among others the one survivor of Tom 
Brown's "three trees." 

* ' Think of all the years of sun and wind that 
have been made into the magnificent strength 
of that tree," some one had mourned. "And 

289 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

now see it snapped like a straw before the fury 
of a single hour!'* 

" Perhaps it 's happier to go like a warrior in 
battle, than just to grow old and die little by 
little," the boy had said. He had somehow 
dimly felt that the splendid spirit of the tree 
the life that ever flickered golden-green in the 
sunlight and danced in joyous abandon in the 
May breeze had fared forth on the wings of 
the wind, a part of the brave spirit of things 
that deathless goes on forever from change to 
change. . . . 

They buried him at night, carrying his body 
by torchlight to an olive grove on the isle of 
Scyros, a mile inland on the heights. "If you 
go there," writes Mr. Stephen Graham, "you 
will find a little wooden cross with just his name 
and the date of his birth and his death (1887- 
1915) marked in black." One who knew him 
said, "Let his just epitaph be: 'He went to war 
in the cause of peace and died without hate that 
love might live. ' 

Better than any inscription or memorial, 
however, are the words of his own poem, The 
Soldier, in which his love for his country still 

290 



RUPERT BROOKE 

lives. It echoes to-day in the hearts of many 
who, at their country's call, "go to war in the 
cause of peace." 

And think, this heart, all evil shed away, 

A pulse in the eternal mind, no less 

Gives somewhere back the thoughts by England given; 
Her sights and sounds; dreams happy as her day; 
And laughter, learnt of friends; and gentleness, 

In hearts at peace, under an English heaven. 



291 



A CITIZEN OF THE WORLD: 
HERBERT C. HOOVER 



I am a man, and nothing that concerns a man do I deem 
a matter of indifference to me. 

TERENCE. 



A CITIZEN OF THE WORLD 

THIS is the story of a young hero of to-day 
of a leader who has, we may well hope, 
as many rich, useful years before him as those 
that make the tale we are about to tell. 

History is not often willing to call a man 
happy or a hero while life lies ahead of him. 
Time can change everything. Time alone can 
prove everything. We must wait for the judg- 
ment of time, it is said. 

We feel very sure, however, of the worth of 
the work of Herbert Clark Hoover, the man 
who gave up a business that meant the director- 
ship of more than 125,000 workers in order that 
he might give his time and his powers to the 
task of feeding ten million helpless people in 
war-ravaged Belgium and northern France. 

"If England could have availed herself of 
such talent for organization as H. C. Hoover 
has displayed in feeding the Belgians, we 

295 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

should be a good year nearer the end of the 
war than we are to-day," said a prominent 
member of the British Parliament. 

"There is a man who knows how to get things 
done!" we are hearing said on every side. "If 
America should feel the pinch of war and 
famine, Mr. Hoover could meet the problem of 
putting us on rations, and there would be no 
food riots." 

Who is this man who knows how to do things ? 
In what school did he learn how to meet emer- 
gencies and how to manage men? 

They tell us he was a Quaker lad, born on an 
Iowa farm, who in his early boyhood moved to 
a farm in the far West. Was it because of this 
early transplanting this change to new scenes, 
new problems, new interests that he learned 
to see things in a big way and to get a grip on 
what really matters in Iowa, in Oregon, in the 
world? 

"The first thing you think about Hoover," 
said a man who knew him in college, ' ' is that he 
is a free soul and feels himself free. Most peo- 
ple are more or less hedged in by their own 
little affairs. His interests have no walls to 

296 



HERBERT C. HOOVER 

shut him away from other people and their in- 
terests. He is a man who is in vital touch with 
what concerns other men." 

But we come once more to the question : how 
did he come by the vital touch which gives him 
this power over men and makes him in a very 
real sense a citizen of the world? You remem- 
ber the exclamation of envious Cassius when 
he was protesting to Brutus against the grow- 
ing influence of C&sar: 

Now in the names of all the gods at once, 
Upon what meat does this our Caesar feed, 
That he is grown so great? 

Cassius was, of course, speaking in grudging 
scorn; but we often find ourselves thinking 
quite simply and sincerely that we would like to 
know what goes to the making of true power. 

Sometimes we like to pretend that we can 
explain the making of a great man. We say, 
for example, of Lincoln : he early learned what 
it meant to meet hardship, so he was strong to 
endure ; by hard times and hard work he learned 
the value of things, the things that really count ; 
he knew what sorrow was, and the faith that is 
greater than grief, so he had a heart that could 

297 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

feel with the sorrows of others and could help 
them to win faithfulness through suffering. 
Because a truly sympathetic heart beats with 
the joys as well as the griefs of others, he cared 
for the little things that go to make up the big 
thing we call living, and his warm human touch 
made him a friend of simple people, with an 
understanding of all. Thus it was that he knew 
people in a real way and life in a true way, and 
so was able to be the leader of a nation in a 
time that tried the souls of the bravest. So we 
say, and fancy that we have explained Lincoln. 
But have we? Many other boys knew toil and 
want and sorrow, and many learned much, per- 
haps, in that hard school; but there was only 
one Lincoln. 

We can, in truth, no more explain a great 
man than we can explain life itself. How is it 
that the acorn has power to take from the earth 
and air and sunshine the things that make the 
oak-tree, the monarch of the forest? How is 
it that of all the oaks in the woods of the world 
there are no two exactly alike? How is it that 
among all the children in a family, in a school, 
in a nation, there are no two really alike? 

298 




Herbert C. Hoover 



HERBERT C. HOOVER 

A boy I knew once put the puzzle in this way : 
"You would think that twins would be more 
truly twins than they are. But when they seem 
most twinsy, they 're somehow different, after 
all!" 

All that we can say is that each child is him- 
self alone, and that as the days go by the things 
he sees and hears, the things he thinks about 
and loves, the things he dreams and the things 
he does, are somehow made a part of him just 
as the soil and sunshine are made into the tree. 

What was it in the Iowa farm life that be- 
came a part of the Quaker boy, Herbert 
Hoover? He learned to look life in the face, 
simply and frankly. Hard work, resolute 
wrestling with the brown earth, made his mus- 
cles firm and his nerves steady. The passing 
of the days and the seasons, the coming of the 
rain, the dew, and the frost, and the sweep of 
the storm, awoke in his spirit a love of nature 
and a delight in nature's laws. "All 's love, 
yet all 's law," whispered the wind as it passed 
over the fields of bending grain. Since all was 
law, one might, by studying the ways of seed 
and soil and weather, win a larger harvest than 

301 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

the steadiest toil, unaided by reason and re- 
source, could coax from the long furrows. It 
was clear that thinking and planning brought a 
liberal increase to the yield of each acre. The 
might of man was not in muscle but in mind. 

Then came the move to Oregon. How the 
Golden West opened up a whole vista of new 
ideas 1 How many kinds of interesting people 
there were in the world! He longed to go to 
college where one could get a bird's-eye view of 
the whole field of what life had to offer before 
settling down to work in his own particular lit- 
tle garden-patch. 

"I don't want to go to a Quaker school, or a 
college founded by any other special sect," he 
said. "I want to go where I will have a chance 
to see and judge everything fairly, without 
prejudice for or against any one line of 
thought." 

"The way of the Friends is a liberal enough 
way for a son of mine, or for any God-fearing 
person," was his guardian's reply. "Thee 
must not expect thy people to send thee to a 
place of worldly fashions and ideas." 

"It looks as if I should have to send myself, 
302 



HERBERT C. HOOVER 

then," said the young man, with a smile in his 
clear eyes, but with his chin looking even more 
determined than was its usual firm habit. 

When Leland Stanford Junior University 
opened its doors in 1891, Herbert C. Hoover 
was one of those applying for admission. The 
first student to register for the engineering 
course, he was the distinguished nucleus of the 
Department of Geology and Mining. The first 
problem young Hoover had to solve at college, 
however, was the way of meeting his living ex- 
penses. 

"What chances are there for a chap to earn 
money here?" he asked. 

"The only job that seems to be lying about 
loose is that of serving in the dining-rooms," 
he was told. "Student waiters are always in 
demand." 

The young Quaker looked as if he had been 
offered an unripe persimmon. l * I suppose it 's 
true that 'they also serve who only stand and 
wait,' " he drawled whimsically, "but somehow 
I can't quite see myself in the part. And any- 
way," he added reflectively, "I don't know that 
I need depend on a job that is 'lying about 

303 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

loose.* I should n't wonder if I 'd have to look 
out for an opening that hasn't been offered to 
every passer-by and become shop-worn." 

He had not been many days at the university 
before he discovered a need and an opportunity. 
There was no college laundry. "I think that 
the person who undertakes to organize the 
clean-linen business in this academic settlement 
will 'also serve,' and he won't have to 'wait* 
for his reward!" he said to himself. 

The really successful man of business is one 
who can at the same time create a demand and 
provide the means of meeting it. The college 
community awoke one morning to the realiza- 
tion that it needed above everything else effi- 
cient laundry- service. And it seemed that an 
alert young student of mining engineering was 
managing the business. Before long it was 
clear, not only that the college was by way of 
being systematically and satisfactorily served 
in this respect, but that, what was even more 
important, a man with a veritable genius for 
organization had appeared on the campus. It 
soon became natural to "let Hoover manage" 
the various student undertakings; and to this 

304 



HERBERT C. HOOVER 

day "the way Hoover did things" is one of the 
most firmly established traditions of Leland 
Stanford. 

Graduating from the university in the pio- 
neer class of 1895, he served his apprenticeship 
at the practical work of mining engineering in 
Nevada County, California, by sending ore- 
laden cars from the opening of the mine to the 
reducing works. He earned two dollars a day 
at this job, and also the opportunity to prove 
himself equal to greater responsibility. The 
foreman nodded approvingly and said, 
" There *s a young chap that college couldn't 
spoil! He has a degree plus common sense, 
and so is ready to learn something from the 
experience that comes his way. And he 's al- 
ways on the job right to the minute. Any one 
can see he 's one that 's bound for the top 1" 

It seemed as if Fate were determined from 
the first that the young man should qualify as 
a citizen of the world as well as a master of 
mines. We next find him in that dreary waste 
of New South Wales known as Broken Hill. 
In a sun-smitten desert, whose buried wealth of 
zinc and gold is given grudgingly only to those 

305 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

who have grit to endure weary, parched days 
and pitiless, lonely nights, he met the ordeal, 
and proved himself still a man in No Man's 
Land. He looked the desert phantoms in the 
face, and behold! they faded like a mirage. 
Only the chance of doing a full-sized man's 
work remained. 

The Broken Hill contract completed, he found 
new problems as a mining expert and manager 
of men in China. But he did not go to this new 
field alone. While at college he had found in 
one of his fellow-workers a kindred spirit, who 
was interested in the real things that were meat 
and drink to him. Miss Lou Henry was a live 
California girl, with warm human charm and 
a hobby for the marvels of geology. It was not 
strange that these two found it easy to fall into 
step, and that after a while they decided to fare 
forth on the adventure of living together. 

It was an adventure with something more 
than the thrill of novel experience and the tonic 
of meeting new problems that awaited them 
in the Celestial Empire. For a long time a very 
strong feeling against foreigners and the 
changed life they were introducing into China 

306 



HERBEKT C. HOOVER 

had been smoldering among many of the peo- 
ple. There was a large party who believed that 
change was dangerous. They did not want rail- 
roads built and mines worked. The snorting 
locomotive, belching fire and smoke, seemed to 
them the herald of the hideous new order of 
things that the struggling peoples of the West 
were trying to bring into their mellow, peace- 
ful civilization. The digging down into the 
ground was particularly alarming. Surely, 
that could not fail to disturb the dragon who 
slept within the earth and whose mighty length 
was coiled about the very foundations of the 
world. There would be earthquakes and other 
terrible signs of his anger. 

The Boxer Society, whose name meant "the 
fist of righteous harmony," and whose slogan 
was "Down with all foreigners," became very 
powerful. "Let us be true to the old customs 
and keep China in the safe old way!" was the 
cry of the Boxers. The "righteous harmony" 
meant "China first," and "China for the Chi- 
nese"; the "fist" meant "Death to Intruders!" 
There was a general uprising in 1900, and many 
foreigners and Chinese Christians were massa- 

307 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

cred. Mr. Hoover, who was at Tientsin in 
charge of important mining interests, found 
himself at the storm-center. It was his task to 
help save his faithful workers, yellow men as 
well as white, from the infuriated mob. 

There was a time when it looked as if the ris- 
ing tide of rebellion would sweep away all that 
opposed it before reinforcements from the 
Western nations could arrive. And when the 
troops did pour into Peking and Tientsin to 
rescue the besieged foreigners, another lawless 
period succeeded. Mr. Hoover found it almost 
as hard to protect property and innocent Chi- 
nese from soldiers, thirsty for loot, as it had 
been to hold the desperate Boxers at bay. The 
victorious troops as well as the vanquished 
fanatics seemed to 

have eaten on the insane root 
That takes the reason prisoner. 

The master of mines had a chance to prove 
himself now a master of men. He succeeded in 
safeguarding the interests of his company, and 
somehow he managed, too, to keep his faith in 
people in spite of the war madness. He never 
doubted that the wave of unreason and cruelty 

308 



HERBERT C. HOOVER 

would pass, like the blackness of a storm. Rea- 
son and humanity would prevail, and kindly 
Nature would make each battle-scarred field of 
struggle and bloodshed smile again with flow- 
ers. 

The adventure of living led the Hoovers to 
Australia, to Africa, to any and all places 
where there were mines to be worked. As man- 
ager of some very important mining interests 
Mr. Hoover's judgment was sought wherever 
the struggle to win the treasures of the rocks 
presented special problems. He had now 
gained wealth and influence, but he was too big 
a man to rest back on what he had accomplished 
and content himself with making money. 

"I have all the money I need," he said. "I 
want to do some real work ; it 's only doing 
things that counts." 

You know, of course, the joy of doing some- 
thing quite apart from anything you have to 
do, just because you have taken up with the idea 
for its own sake. Then you run to meet any 
amount of effort, and work becomes play. Mr. 
Hoover and his wife now took up a task to- 
gether with all the zest that one puts into a 

309 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

fascinating game. Can you imagine getting 
fun out of translating a great Latin book about 
mines and minerals! 

"For some time I have looked forward to 
putting old Agricola into English," explained 
Mr. Hoover; "we are having a real holiday 
working it up. ' ' 

"Who in the world was Agricola, and what 
does he matter to you?" demanded his friend, 
in amazement. 

"Agricola, my dear fellow, was the Latinized 
name of a German mining engineer who lived 
in the early part of the sixteenth century a 
time when it was not only the fashion to turn 
one's name into Latin, but to write all books 
of any importance in that language. He mat- 
ters a good deal to any one who happens to be 
especially interested in the science of mining. 
This volume we are at work on is the corner- 
stone of that science." 

"How, then, does it happen that it has never 
been translated before?" asked the friend. 

"Well," replied Mr. Hoover, with some hesi- 
tation, "you see it wasn't a particularly easy 
job. Agricola 's Latin had its limitations, but 

310 



HERBERT C. HOOVER 

his knowledge of minerals and mining problems 
was prodigious. Only a mining expert could 
possibly get at what he was trying to say, and 
most mining experts have something more pay- 
ing to do than to undertake a thing of this kind. " 

"I see," retorted his friend, with a smile; 
''you are doing this because you have nothing 
more paying to do!" 

"Yes," replied Mr. Hoover, quietly, "there 
is nothing that is more paying than the thing 
that is your work because you particularly 
want to do it." 

Mr. Hoover would say without any hesita- 
tion that the work which he volunteered to do 
when the storm of the great war broke on Eu- 
rope in August, 1914, was "paying" in the 
same way. This citizen of the world was at his 
London headquarters, from which, as consult- 
ing engineer, he was directing vast mining inter- 
ests, when the panic of fear seized the crowds 
of American tourists who had gone abroad as 
to a favorite pleasure-park and had found it 
suddenly transformed into a battle-field. Hun- 
dreds of people were as frightened and helpless 
as children caught in a burning building. All 

311 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

at once they found themselves in a strange, 
threatening world, without means of escape. 

"Nobody seemed to know what was to be done 
with us, and nobody seemed to care, ' ' explained 
a Vassar girl. * * Their mobilizing was the only 
thing that mattered to them. There were no 
trains and steamers for us, and no money for 
our checks and letters of credit. Then Mr. 
Hoover came to the rescue. He saw that some- 
thing was done, and it was done effectively. It 
took generalship, I can tell you, to handle that 
stampede to get people from the Continent 
into England, to arrange for the advancement of 
funds to meet their needs, and to provide means 
of getting them back to America. They say he 
is a wonderful engineer, but I don't think he 
ever carried through any more remarkable engi- 
neering feat than that was!" 

The matter of giving temporary relief and 
providing transportation for some six or seven 
thousand anxious Americans was a simple un- 
dertaking, however, compared to Mr. Hoover's 
next task. 

In the autumn of 1914 the cry of a whole na- 
tion in distress startled the world. The people 

312 



HERBERT C. HOOVER 

of Belgium were starving. The terror and de- 
struction of war had swept over a helpless little 
country leaving want and misery everywhere. 
There was need of instant and efficient aid. Of 
course only a neutral would be permitted to 
serve, and equally of course, only a man used 
to handling great enterprises a captain of in- 
dustry and a master of men would be able to 
serve in such a crisis. It did not take a prophet 
or seer to see in Herbert Clark Hoover, that 
master of vast engineering projects who had 
given himself so generously to helping his fel- 
low-Americans in distress, a man fitted to meet 
the needs of the time. And Mr. Walter H. Page, 
American Ambassador to England, appealed to 
Mr. Hoover, American in London, citizen of 
the world and lover of humanity, to act as chair- 
man of the Commission for Relief in Belgium. 

"Who is this Mr. Hoover, and will he be really 
able to man and manage the relief-ship?" was 
demanded on every side, in America as well as 
in Europe. 

"If anybody can save Belgium, he can," 
vouched Mr. Page. "There never was such a 
genius for organization. He can grasp the 

313 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

most complex problems, wheels within wheels, 
and get all the cogs running in perfect harmony. 
Besides, he will have the courage to act promptly 
as well as effectively when once he has deter- 
mined on the right course to pursue. He is not 
afraid of precedent and red tape. A man who 
has developed and directed large mining inter- 
ests all over the world and who has been consult- 
ing engineer for over fifty mining companies, 
he cares more about doing a good job than mak- 
ing money. He 's giving himself now heart and 
soul to this relief work, and we may be sure, if 
the thing is humanly possible, that he will find 
a way." 

Can you picture to yourself the plight of Bel- 
gium after the cruel war-machine had mowed 
down all industries and trade -and had swept 
the fields bare of crops and farm animals? 
Think of a country, about the size of the State 
of Maryland, so closely dotted with towns and 
villages that there were more than eight mil- 
lion people living there as many people as 
there are in all our great western States on the 
Pacific side of the Rocky Mountains. This 
smallest country of Europe was the most 

314 



HEEBERT C. HOOVER 

densely settled and the most prosperous. The 
Belgians were a nation of skilled workers. 
Many were makers of cloth and lace. The 
linen, woolen, and delicate cotton fabrics woven 
in Belgium were as famous as Brussels carpets 
and Brussels lace. Since it was a land particu- 
larly rich in coal, manufacturing of all sorts 
was very profitable. There were important 
metal-works; nail, wire, and brass factories; 
and workshops of gold and silver articles. The 
glass and pottery works were also important. 
Little Belgium was a veritable hive of busy 
workers, whose products were sent all over the 
world. 

Of course, you can see that an industrial coun- 
try like this would have to import much of its 
food. The small farms and market-gardens 
could not at best supply the needs of the people 
for more than three or four months of the year. 
Just as our big cities must depend on importing 
provisions from the country, so Belgium de- 
pended on buying food-stuffs from agricultural 
communities in exchange for her manufactured 
articles. 

Now can you realize what happened when the 
315 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

war came? There was no longer any chance 
for the people to make and sell their goods. All 
the mills and metal-works were stopped. The 
conquerors seized all the mines and metals. 
Everything that could serve Germany in any 
way was shipped to that country. The rail- 
roads, of course, were in the hands of the Ger- 
mans, and so each town and village was cut off 
from communication with the rest of the world. 
The harvests that had escaped destruction by 
the trampling armies were seized to feed the 
troops. Even the scattered farm-houses were 
robbed of their little stores of grain and vege- 
tables. 

The task with which Mr. Hoover had to cope 
was that of buying food for ten million people 
(in Belgium and northern France), shipping it 
across seas made dangerous by mines and sub- 
marines of the warring nations, and distributing 
it throughout an entire country without any of 
the normal means of transportation. Let us see 
how he went to work. First he secured the help 
of other energetic, able young Americans who 
only wanted to be put to work. Chief among 
these volunteers were the Rhodes scholars at 

316 



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It!) the COTDUl tlMllUS Of t!)f 

poor rliilDrcn of amtfflrrp 

to rfific hniD-ljfartfD commote 
of fhf Diurr D s>ratca for ttif ir 



///// ./ t 



A n I VT c r p Primed with the old 





ChritropbonB Planiinos 



The Belgian children 's Christmas card, printed at 
the Plantin Museum in Antwerp 



HERBEKT C. HOOVER 

Oxford, picked men who had been given special 
opportunities and who realized that true educa- 
tion means ability to serve. Without confusion 
or delay the relief army was organized and the 
campaign for the war sufferers under way. 

It was a business without precedents, a sea 
that had never been charted, this work of the 
Relief Commission. At a time when England 
was vitally and entirely concerned with her war 
problems and when all railroads and steamships 
were supposed to be at the command of the gov- 
ernment, Mr. Hoover quietly arranged for the 
transportation of supplies to meet the immedi- 
ate needs of Belgium. Going on the principle 
that "when a thing is really necessary it is bet- 
ter to do it first and ask permission afterward," 
Mr. Hoover saw his cargoes safely stowed and 
the hatches battened down before he went to 
secure his clearance papers. 

* ' We must be permitted to leave at once, ' ' he 
declared urgently. "If I do not get four car- 
goes of food to Belgium by the end of the week, 
thousands are going to die of starvation, and 
many more may be shot in food riots. ' ' 

"Out of the question!" replied the cabinet 
319 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

minister, positively. " There is no time, in the 
first place, and if there were, there are no good 
wagons to be spared by the railways, no dock 
hands, and no steamers. Besides, the Channel 
is closed to merchant ships for a week to allow 
the passage of army transports." 

"I have managed to get all these things," 
Hoover interposed, "and am now through with 
them all except the steamers. This wire tells 
me that these are loaded and ready to sail, and I 
have come to you to arrange for their clear- 
ance." 

The distinguished official looked at Hoover 
aghast. "There have been men sent to the 
Tower for less than you have done, young 
man!" he exclaimed. "If it was for anything 
but Belgium Relief, if it was anybody but 
you, I should hate to think of what might hap- 
pen. As it is I suppose I must congratulate 
you on a jolly clever coup. I '11 see about the 
clearance papers at once." 

First and last, the chief obstacles with which 
the Relief Commission had to deal were due to 
the suspicions of the two great antagonists, 
England and Germany, each of whom was bent 

320 



HERBERT C. HOOVER 

on preventing the other from securing the slight- 
est advantage from the least chance or mis- 
chance. Now it was the British Foreign Office 
which sent a long communication, fairly swathed 
in red tape, suggesting changes in relief meth- 
ods, which, if carried out, would have held up 
the food of seven million people for two days. 
In this stress Mr. Hoover dispensed with the 
services of a clerk and wrote the following let- 
ter, which served to lighten a dark day at the 
Foreign Office, in his own hand : 

Dear Blank: 

It strikes me that trying to feed the Belgians is like try- 
ing to feed a hungry little kitten by means of a forty-foot 
bamboo pole, said kitten confined in a barred cage occupied 
by two hungry lions. 

Yours sincerely, 

HERBERT C. HOOVER. 

In April, 1915, a German submarine, in its 
zeal to nip England, torpedoed one of the Com- 
mission's food-ships, and somewhat later an 
aeroplane tried to drop bombs on another. Mr. 
Hoover at once paid a flying visit to Berlin. He 
was assured that Germany regretted the inci- 
dent and that it would not happen again. 

"Thanks," said Hoover. "Perhaps your 
321 



HEKOES OF TO-DAY 

Excellency has heard about the man who was 
bitten by a bad-tempered dog? He went to the 
owner to have the dog muzzled. 

" 'But the dog won't bite you,' insisted the 
owner. 

" 'You know he won't bite me, and I know 
he won't bite me,' said the injured man, doubt- 
fully, 'but the question is, does the dog know?' " 

"Herr Hoover," said the high official, "par- 
don me if I leave you for a moment. I am going 
at once to 'let the dog know.' " 

Another incident which throws light on the 
character and influence of our citizen of the 
world was related by Mr. Lloyd-George, the 
first man of England, to a group of friends at 
the Liberal Club. Here is the story in the 
great Welshman's own words: 

" 'Mr. Hoover,' I said, 'I find I am quite un- 
able to grant your request in the matter of Bel- 
gian exchange, and I have asked you to come 
here that I might explain why. ' Without wait- 
ing for me to go on, my boyish-looking caller 
began speaking. For fifteen minutes he spoke 
without a break just about the clearest utter- 
ance I have ever heard on any subject. He used 

322 



HERBERT C. HOOVER 

not a word too much, nor yet a word too few. 
By the time he had finished I had come to real- 
ize not only the importance of his contentions, 
but, what was more to the point, the practicabil- 
ity of granting his request. So I did the only 
thing possible under the circumstances told 
him I had never understood the question before, 
thanked him for helping me to understand it, 
and saw that things were arranged as he wanted 
them." 

As Mr. Lloyd-George was impressed by the 
quiet efficiency of his "boyish-looking caller," 
so the whole world was impressed by the mas- 
terly system with which the great work was car- 
ried forward. Wheat was bought by the ship- 
load in Argentina, transported to Belgium, 
where it was milled and made into bread, and 
then sold for less than the price in London. 
The details of distribution were so handled as 
to remove all chance for waste and dishonesty; 
and finally, the cost of the work itself the total 
expense of the Relief Commission was less 
than one-half of one per cent, of the money ex- 
pended. 

Many of the Belgians were, of course, able to 
323 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

pay for their food. They had property or se- 
curities on which money could be raised. The 
destitute people were the peasants and wage- 
earners whose only dependence for daily bread 
their daily labor had been taken from them 
by the war. 

In the winter of 1917 Mr. Hoover came to 
America to tell about conditions in Belgium and 
the work of the Relief Commission. Looking 
his fellow-citizens quietly in the face he said: 
"America has received virtually all the credit 
for the help given, and we do not deserve it. 
Out of $250,000,000 that have been spent, only 
$9,000,000 have come from the United States, 
the rich nation blest with peace who owes, 
moreover, much of her present prosperity to 
the misfortunes of the unhappy Belgians, for 
the greater part of the money expended for re- 
lief supplies has come to this country." 

There is not a child in Belgium who does not 
know how Mr. Brand Whitlock, the American 
Ambassador, and other American "Great- 
hearts," have stood by them in their terrible 
need, just as they know that the wonderful 
" Christmas Ship," laden with gifts from chil- 

324 



HERBERT C. HOOVER 

dren to children, came from America. They 
have come to look on the Stars and Stripes as 
the symbol of all that is good and kind. In his 
book, "War Bread," Mr. Edward E. Hunt, who 
was one of the members of the Relief Commis- 
sion, prints several letters from Belgian chil- 
dren. Here is one signed "Marie Meersman." 

I have often heard a little girl friend of mine speak of 
an uncle who sent her many things from America, and I 
was jealous. But now I have more than one uncle, and 
they send me more than my friend's uncle did, for it is 
thanks to you, dear uncles, that I have a good slice of 
bread every day. 

All Americans who once realize that by far 
the greater part of the money spent for Bel- 
gium has come from the nations on whom the 
burdens of war are pressing most heavily must 
want America to do much more. 

Do you know the story of the kind-hearted 
passer-by who was so moved by the misfortune 
of a workman, hurt in an accident, that he ex- 
claimed aloud, in an agonized tone, "Poor fel- 
low ! Poor, poor fellow ! ' ' Another bystander, 
however, reached in his pocket and drew out 
some money. "Here," he said, turning to the 

325 



HEROES OF TO-DAY 

first speaker, "I am sorry five dollars' worth. 
How sorry are you?" 

That is the question that Mr. Hoover has put 
to America : ' ' What value do you put on your 
thankfulness for peace and prosperity and your 
sympathy for a suffering people less .fortunate 
than yourselves 7 ' ' 

As we look at Mr. Hoover, however, we say, 
"In giving him to the work, America has at 
least given of her best." And we like to think 
that he is truly American because his interests 
and sympathies are as broad as humanity, be- 
cause all mankind is his business, because in 
deed and in truth he is "a citizen of the world." 



THE END 



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