GETTING THE MONEY-MAKING HABIT
"Those were the anxious days of the Civil War," the lecturer continued,
"and every-one was worked up to a high pitch of excitement most of the
time. When it was rumored that a battle had been fought the newspapers
sold 'like hot cakes.' Any other boy would have been satisfied if he
could supply as many papers as people wanted and let it go at that. But
that was not the way with young Edison. He was not content with hoping
for an opportunity. He made his opportunity.
"In spite of his getting into trouble so often, Al was a most likable
lad, and a real boy,--earnest, honest and industrious. He had a big
stock of horse sense and a great fund of humor. Though his life seemed
to be 'all work and no play,' he took great pleasure in his work. In the
course of his daily routine at Detroit, he could hardly help making
friends on the _Free Press_, the greatest newspaper there. In this he
resembled that other great inventor, also a great worker as a
boy--Benjamin Franklin.
"Young Edison had a friend up in the printing office who let him see
proofs from the edition being set up, so that he kept posted as to what
was to be in the paper before it came off the press. After the _Free
Press_ came out, he had to get an armful and hustle for his train. In
this shrewd way the train-boy was better off than 'he who runs may
read,' for he _had_ read, and could _shout_ while running: 'All about
the big battle!' So he sold his papers in short order. He had learned to
estimate ahead how many papers the news of a battle ought to sell, and
so he stocked up well beforehand. One day he saw in the advance proofs a
harrowing account of the great two-days' battle of Shiloh. He grasped
not only the news value but also the strategic importance of that
victory.
"Running down to the telegraph office at the Grand Trunk Station in
Detroit, he told the operator all about it. Edison has told us himself
about the offer he made that telegrapher:
"'If you will wire to every station on my run and get the station master
to chalk up on the blackboard out on the station platform that there has
been a big battle, with thousands killed and wounded, I'll give you
_Harper's Weekly_ free for six months!'
"The operator agreed and that Edison boy tore back to the _Free Press_
office.
"'I want a thousand papers!' he gasped. 'Pay you to-morrow!' This was
more than three times as many as he had taken out before, so the clerk
refused to trust him.
"'Where's Mr. Storey?' demanded the lad. The clerk snickered as he
jerked his head toward where the managing editor was talking with a
'big' man from out of town. Young Edison was forced to break in, but the
editor noticed how anxious and business-like he was. When the boy had
told him what he wanted, the great newspaper man scribbled a few words
on a scrap of paper and handed it down to him, saying:
"'Here, take this. Wish you good luck!'
"Al handed the clerk the order and got his thousand papers at once. He
hired another 'newsie' to help him down to the station with them. Long
after this, he told the rest of the story:
"'At Utica, the first station, twelve miles out of Detroit, I usually
sold two papers at five cents each. As we came up I put my head out and
thought I saw an excursion party. The people caught sight of me and
commenced to shout. Then it began to occur to me that they wanted
papers. I rushed back into the car, grabbed an armful, and sold forty
there.
"'Mt. Clemens was the next stop. When that station came in sight, I
thought there was a riot. The platform was crowded with a howling mob,
and I realized that they were after news of Shiloh, so I raised the
price to ten cents, and sold a hundred and fifty where I never had got
rid of more than a dozen.
"'At other stations these scenes were repeated, but the climax came when
we got to Port Huron. I had to jump off the train about a quarter of a
mile from the station which was situated out of town. I had paid a big
Dutch boy to haul several loads of sand to that point, and the engineers
knew I was going to jump so they slowed down a bit. Still, I was quite
an expert on the jump. I heaved off my bundle of papers and landed all
right. As usual, the Dutch boy met me and we carried the rest of the
papers toward the town.
"'We had hardly got half way when we met a crowd hurrying toward the
station. I thought I knew what they were after, so I stopped in front of
a church where a prayer-meeting was just closing. I raised the price to
twenty-five cents and began taking in a young fortune.
"'Almost at the same moment the meeting closed and the people came
rushing out. The way the coin materialized made me think the deacons had
forgotten to pass the plate in that meeting!'
"In those days they commonly called trainboys 'Candy Butchers'; the
terms 'Newsies' and 'Peanuts' may have been used then also but were not
so common. They are not so common on trains nowadays, except in the West
and South, but formerly they were even more of an institution than the
water cooler or the old-fashioned winter stove. The station-shouting
brakemen were no more familiar or comforting to weary passengers than
the 'candy butchers' and their welcome stock."