Ο By ORISON SWETT MARDEN N the morning of November 3, 1920, when the press announced the election of Warren G. Harding to the Presidency of the United States, thousands of young men throughout the country were thrilled at the thought of his good fortune, of the marvelous luck that had come to him. They looked toward the White House with longing eyes, and almost envied the man who in a few months would reside there as President of the greatest Republic in the world, the leader of 106,000,000 pecple. It certainly is a wonderful thing for a poor boy to climb to such heights, and it emphasizes anew the boundless opportunities open to every American youth. It shows that any ambitious American boy, however humble his station in life, has his chance to reach distinction. during his seven years in the White House because he was all that time put right on his metal to do his best He had to keep in view at all times the dignity of his position as chief executive of a great nation; he had to realize that he was actually on exhibition, as it were; that the eyes of the world were upon him and that he must conduct himself accordingly. F you were to hold the same high ideal of the duties and obligations of your job as he did of his; if you were to hold your position in life in any such high esteem, just think what it would do for you; how it would affect your development; how it would affect your reputation, people's judgment of you. Perhaps you have been contrasting your humble position, your inferior standing, your insignificance, with the great position, the high standing and opportunity and the great importance of Mr. Harding. You may think that you, too, could measure up to his opportunity if it were given you. You may say to yourself, "If I were President of the United States, I would always conduct myself with the dignity becoming a man of such lofty station, wielding such mighty power. I would carry myself in a very manly, very dignified way. I would be very careful in regard to every detail of my personal appearance, because, as President, I would be on exhibition wherever I went and any carelessness on these points would be a reflection on my high office. I would be as particular about my conversation as about my personal appearance, for it would never do for the President of the United States to be cheap and common, slangy and slovenly in his speech." WHATEVER you do President-elect Harding had no more advantages at the start than you have. He began as a poor boy. Indeed, many of you who envy him to-day probably have had infinitely better opportunities to bring out the big man in you than he had; but have you done it? You can bring out your larger self, but will you? There is the point: You can, but will you? It is all up to you, my friend. Mere position cannot do much for a man's development outside of giving him a chance to do his best, and you have that chance where you are. Just dignify your chance in life. Make the most of it, as the President of the United States must make the most of his. That is the way to bring out the possibilities of your job and qualify for the one above you. Theodore Roosevelt improved marvelously in life, keep in an ambition - arousing atmosphere. Keep close to those who are dead - in - earnest, who are ambitious to do something and be somebody in the world. Keep close to those who are doing big things along the line of your own aspirations. dency yield to him? In other words, just think what it is possible for you to make of your own position if you exercise the same care in regard to conduct and bearing, the same infinite pains in details, in regard to your appearance, to your conversation, to your manner, your bearing, if you are as careful not to make a bad impression, not to make bad breaks, not to exhibit your yellow streak as you would be if you were President! Think, if you were President, how important it would be to IT is not enough to try to be somebody; you must try to be somebody with all your might, with the whole weight of your being. You must try to be somebody with all the force of your talents, with all the force of your enthusiasm, your grit, your pep, your determination. This is the only thing that is worthy of your life's sentiments. cover up your fool streaks, your weak points, to control your moods, emotions, your temper, to maintain the dignity of your office! You know very well that it wouldn't do for a President to fly into a passion over every little thing that goes wrong, the mistakes of a stenographer or a servant, to cheapen and belittle himself before servants or officials at the White House by behaving in an undignified manner. If you are just as careful, not only for this year, but for the next four years, as you think you would be if you were President; if you always try to exercise your best judgment, to use the finest possible discrimination on all important questions, to be just as careful not to make a break, not to show your weaknesses, as the President would be, just think what an effect it would have on your conduct, on your character, on your fortunes! Why you would gain so much in every way that, at the end of the four years, your most intimate friends, if they had not seen you in the interval, would hardly know you you would hardly know yourself. It is possible for you to make as much, perhaps more, of your life during the next four years than Mr. Harding will make of his during his stay in the White House. The great secret of progress is the daily effort to live up to a great ideal-to have an inspiring slogan. I know of no better slogan for an ambitious young man than, "If I were President!" Bart Nash with the daily lunch The Meanest Man in the World As Interpreted by George M. Cohan T HERE is Review by Selma H. Lowenberg Photographs by White, New York no such thing as a lucky man. There is no such thing as an unlucky man. It's the stuff that man is made of that puts him where he gets." That is the keynote of Mr. George M. Cohan's latest play, "The Meanest Man in the World," which he has personally produced and in which he plays the The leading role. philosophy of Rich ard Clark, the struggling young lawyer in the play, is really the philosophy of Mr. Cohan; that happiness is the most important thing in life "and the way to get it is to create it-and the only way to keep it is to spread it around." This great truth comes to Richard Clark after he has been told he is a failure because he allows his heart to rule in matters of business, and not his head. His friends reproach him for his kindly sentimentalism and advise him to bury his heart if he would be a success. He is a collection lawyer and he simply cannot find it in his heart to turn people out of their homes and businesses because of their inability to meet their bills. He hears their stories and his heart is touched, and so he struggles on for five years to gain a foothold, while his less able friends and classmates harden their hearts and forge ahead. The story opens in Richard Clark's law office. Bart Nash, his assistant, is informed by the telephone company that service will be discontinued until the bill is paid. Only incoming calls may be received. Bart is in love with Kitty Crockett, the stenographer, and together they discuss their employer's defunct business. They are both loyal and devoted to Clark, but Bart nurses a dryly humorous grouch because he has received but two-week's pay in five weeks. Clark is also indebted to Kitty, but she manages nicely with an income from stenographic work for other tenants in the building. She offers now to lend Bart some money. He is touched, but refuses her kindly. Their conversation is interrupted by the entrance of the janitor who announces GEORGE M. COHAN AS RICHARD "Friendship is the most essential thing in the business world, or in any other walk of life. And you can't make friends by brow-beating and tearing down and destroying everybody and everything you come in con tact with." that the superintendent of the building wishes to see Mr. Clark the moment he comes in; that unless the rent is paid he is to be dispossessed and another tenant is ready to move in. He tells Kitty that Mr. Mason, a tenant, wants her to take some dictation, and Kitty is about to leave when Mr. Clark enters. C LARK is a good-looking young man with a kindly, diffident manner, and appears to be not the least bit discouraged. He pulls out a roll of bills. "What's gone now?" asks Bart, and Clark points to the spot on his tie, but lately adorned with a stick-pin, for which he has received forty dollars. He gives ten to Kitty and ten to Bart; then, whistling, he walks over to the telephone to make a call, only to discover that his service has been cut off. Bart tells him of the janitor's call and threat of dispossession, but Clark continues cheerfully to whistle, much to Bart's disgust. For some time Richard and Bart have been economizing by eating their lunch in the office prepared on an alcohol stove. Bart is given ten dollars to go out and buy pork chops, milk, and bread and stop on the way to deliver a note to, a man who has long owed Richard $250. "Wait for an answer," admonishes Richard, as he hands Bart the note. "But what if he says there is no answer?" "That's an answer, isn't it?" "Well, what if he says he can't pay?" "There is nothing more to do about it then." "That's just it," storms Bart. "You're too easy. You let everyone impose on you." W HEN Bart is gone, Ned Stephens, an old college mate in love with Richard's sister, and a nephew of Frederick Leggitt, millionaire member of the firm of Montgomery & Leggitt occasional clients of Clark's, comes in. He has an appointment to meet Mrs. Clark and Nellie, and take them to luncheon. Ned inquires how Richard is doing, and is enthusiastically assured that business is wonderful. Ned stops him short and calls his bluff. He has been in the superintendent's office and has overheard that Richard is to be dispossessed, paid the rent himself, and now hands his friend the receipted bill. Richard is chiefly concerned for fear that Ned will tell his sister of his financial straits and that Nellie will tell his mother, to whom he is devoted, and for whom he has been playing his bluff for five years, comforted in the thought of her pride in his supposed success. All through his struggles he has been inventing stories of his legal work for Schwab, Wanamaker, John D. Rockefeller, Jr., and other prominent dream clients. He tells Ned that his mother must never know of his failure; it would kill her, and he extracts a promise of secrecy. He explains that his father has left his mother and sister well provided for, and that he has used up all his own inheritance trying to keep up appearances. Ned says that luck has been against him, but Clark replies: "There is no such thing as an unlucky man. There is no such thing as a lucky man. I've thought that all out too. It's the stuff that a man is made of that puts him where he gets. Perseverance and application are all right but it's ability that counts in the end. Nobody ever tried harder than I have. Nobody has ever given it a tougher fight. I've had the spirit, desire, ambition, and everything that goes with a business equipment, but the main essential wasn't there--ability. That's what I lacked, and I suppose that's why I'm a failure.” TH HEIR conversation is interrupted by the arrival of Mrs. Clark and Nellie, and while Richard is trying hard to create an atmosphere of the successful law office, Bart bursts in with the paper bags containing the lunch. Clark turns on his surprised assistant and belabors him for coming in, and hastily explains to his mother and sister that Bart is one of his office boys. Nellie asks to use the phone and is unthinkingly allowed to make an attempt to get “central,” when Richard stops her just in time and explains that he has a long-distance call in for Chicago. Frederick Leggitt. Ned's wealthy uncle, now arrives with a mission for Richard. His own assistant, Carlton Childs, a former classmate of Richard's, has been called to Washington, and Leggitt commissions Clark to collect a troublesome bill of $850, owed to his firm by J. Hudson & Co., of Hudsonville, Pennsylvania. But more important than the $850, he is to investigate a certain Hiram Leeds, who is reported to the firm of Montgomery & Leggitt as suspiciously eager to buy up their claim of J. Hudson & Co., in order to obtain certain property which may possibly contain oil. Richard suggests that Leggitt send his nephew, Ned, along to study the possibilities of the oil land, but notwithstanding the fact that Ned is a graduate mining engineer his uncle looks upon him as a joke. Richard suggests that he let Ned come along then just to keep him company. touched by the old man's story and he has granted an extension of time. Leggitt is furious, will listen to no explanations, and withdraws his commission on the Hudson account. He cries out that sympathy and sentiment have no place in business and that when Richard comes to his senses and accepts this dictum then-only then -may he come to him for work. "Maybe I said, maybe I'll give you a job," he shouts in parting. But Leggitt has told Clark that Carlton Childs is to call with his railroad ticket and expense money to Hudsonville, and Richard realizes that if he can prevent subsequent communication between Leggitt and Childs after the latter's arrival with the ticket and money he may be able to make good on the J. Hudson & Co., collection and once more restore himself in Leggit's good graces. As Leggitt angrily departs, Bart enters excitedly to announce the arrival of a seemingly prosperous client. Richard quickly sets the stage in motion to impress the client with his legal importance and "speaks" loudly with John D. Rockefeller over the telephone. The "client," who turns out to be a collector for the telephone company hugely enjoying the joke. Richard borrows back from Bart in order to pay his telephone bill. Kitty returns and he dictates a letter to Trowbridge enclosing his last five-dollar bill to help the old man out. CA ARLTON CHILDS arrives. He is a positive inhuman, money-grabbing man. The old friends greet each other warmly. Childs has not seen Leggitt and is under the impression that previous arrangements are to stand. "Well, here you are, he says. It's a matter of eight hundred and fifty dollars against J. Hudson and Company, of Hudsonville, Pennsylvania. It's one of the hardest collections Montgomery and Leggitt ever had." CLARK: "Is that so? What's so hard about this?" "Jane Hudson" informs "Mike O'Brien," the old cobbler, that "Richard Clark" is coming to collect the bill or close her business "J. Hudson" before she met the "Meanest: Man" |