er bed.
It had taken a long time to acquire these two tickfuls of downy goose
feathers. The bed is the foundation of the household. It is there that
the babies are born. There sleep restores the weary toiler that he may
rise and toil anew. And there at last when work is done, the old folks
fall into a sleep that never ends.

We traveled steerage to Castle Garden. Having passed the immigrant
tests, we found ourselves set out on the dock, free to go where we
pleased. But our baggage had disappeared. Some one had made off with our
precious feather beds!

This was the first real tragedy of my mother's life. All the joy
of setting foot in the new land was turned to dismay. The stored-up
pleasure with which she awaited the greeting of her husband was dashed
in a moment, like sweet water flung upon the ground. When I saw the
anguish in my mother's face, I was sobered to life's responsibilities.
The song had died out of her heart, and I must make it sing again. While
she was crying in distraction, I wrapped my own tearful face in her
skirts and prayed to God that I might grow up in a day--that He would
make my arms strong so I could go to work at once earning money to
replace the lost feather beds. I was then not quite eight years old. It
was early in April, 1881. Before the month was out I had found a job
in the new country and was earning money. I gave all my earnings to my
mother. I have been earning money ever since. As long as I lived at home
I turned over all my wages to my mother. When I went away I sent her
weekly a percentage of my earnings. This I have ever continued to do.

My love for my mother and her grief at the loss of the feather beds
turned a careless boy into a serious money-maker. This led to the study
of economics and finance. A man's destiny is often made by trifles light
as feathers.

CHAPTER VI. HUNTING FOR LOST CHILDREN

The loss of our baggage was only the beginning of our troubles in New
York. With the feather ticks went also the money mother had got from
selling the bedsteads and other furniture. She had nothing with which
to buy food and while we were walking the streets we smelt the delicious
odor of food from the restaurants and became whining and petulant. This
was the first time mother had ever heard her children crying for bread
when she had none to give them. The experience was trying, but her stout
heart faced it calmly. In the Old World, her folks and father's folks
had been rate