When Senator Hanna was walking through his factory in Cleveland
some years ago, says _The National Magazine_, on the
lookout for new ideas, or anything which would aid the progress
of business, he overheard a little red-headed lad remark:
“Wish I had old Hanna’s money, and he was in the poorhouse.”
The Senator returned to his office and rang to have the boy
sent to him. The boy came to the office timidly, just a bit
conscience-stricken, wondering if his remark had been overheard
and ready for the penalty. As the lad twisted his hands and
nervously stood on one foot before the gaze of those twinkling
dark eyes fixt on him by the man at the desk, he felt the hand
of Uncle Mark on his shoulder.
“So you wish you had old Hanna’s money, and he was in the
poorhouse, eh? Suppose your wish should be granted, what would
you do?”
“Why,” stammered the lad, “the first thing I would do, sir,
would be to get you out of the poorhouse.”
The Senator laughed and sent the boy back to his work. To-day he
is one of the managers of a large factory, but he never tires of
telling the story that held his first job.
(2769)
=Retrogression=--See DOWN GRADE, THE.