In the California Insurance Company office, the position of secretary
was closely akin to that of the celebrated "Pooh-Bah." Attached to the
office was the duty of collecting the assessments on the capital stock,
adjuster in chief, the underwriting, a court of appeal on technical
points in disputed settlements, a diplomatic agency and encouragement
dispensatory with and for the stockholders. The latter item took
considerable time. Singly and in groups they fired their questions: "How
many assessments will there be?" "How much do you think the losses will
total?" "How soon will you know the amount?" "When we do get out of this
shall we be as big as any other fire company or bigger?" This was the
daily grind. But since it was their money and they were laymen, their
anxiety was as pardonable as their courage was commendable.
The president occupied an office on the other side of the hail, directly
opposite mine. The one door was lettered "President" and the other
"Secretary."
One of the stockholders cornered me and demanded a full and explicit
statement of conditions. I gave him the facts and frankly confessed that
the prospect was not alluring. He bade me goodbye with a long face and
went directly across the hall into the office of the president. In a
brief while, he returned, his face wreathed in smiles, and quietly said
'that the president's office was "Heaven" and my office was "Hell"; that
I was a "gloomy Gus" anyway, but I couldn't help it and he pitied me,
but as for the president, he was the right man in the right place, and
he knew our exact position.' I did not make any reply. The optimism of
the president was a very great asset and in those days optimism and hope
were at a premium.