-times. His
conversation was apparently mostly about the difference in the work and
achievements in the world of the man who had a profession and the one
who had not. It was illustrated, because the speaker was a miner, by
examples in the field of mining. The talk also was much about
engineering in general and about just what training it was necessary for
a boy to have in order to become a good engineer, with much emphasis
put on the part in this training which was to be got from a university.
He also explained the difference between a university and a small
academy-college.

And then the man went on to his mine. He invited the fascinated boy to
go with him for a little visit, but permission for this was not
obtained. The trails of this man and Herbert Hoover have never touched
again, and yet this stray mining engineer, whose name, even, we do not
know, almost certainly was more responsible than any other external
influence in determining Hoover's later education and adopted
profession.

In Portland Herbert got a job in a real estate office as useful
boy-of-all-work, including particularly the driving of prospective
purchasers about to see various alluring corner lots in town and
inviting farmsteads in the surrounding country. For his work he received
sufficient wages to pay for all of his very modest living. He had hoped
to go to the high school to prepare himself for college, but found that
he could not do this and earn his full wages at the same time. So as
the wages were a first necessity, he gave up his high-school plans and
devoted himself to study at nights and odd hours of the day. He
discovered a little back room in the real-estate office half filled with
old boxes and bags, of which no one else seemed to be aware, and this he
fitted up with a bed, a little table and a lamp, and made of it, with a
boy's enthusiasm--especially the enthusiasm of a boy who had known
Indians--a secret cave in which he lived in a mysterious and exciting
way. He slipped out to little restaurants and cheap boarding-places for
his meals.

He remembers once standing fascinated before a sign that read: "Table
d'hote, 75 cents"; but after thinking twice of indulging in a single
great eating orgy, he decided that no human stomach, much less his own
small one, could possibly hold all the food that seventy-five cents
would pay for, and that therefore he could not get all of his money's
worth. So he went on to some fairer bargain.

Ther