collects from the world for the goods. Taffy, guff and
oxaline are all well and good in their way, but they have the great
disadvantage of not being legal tender.

* * * * *

In migrating from New England to the District of Columbia, George
Peabody had moved into a comparatively foreign country, and in the
process had sloughed most of his provincialism. It is beautiful to be a
New Englander, but to be nothing else is terrible.

George had proved for himself the most valuable lesson in
Self-Reliance--that he could make his way alone. He had kept his credit
and strengthened it.

He had served as a volunteer soldier in the War of Eighteen Hundred
Twelve, and done patrol duty on the banks of the Potomac. And when the
war was over, no one was quite so glad as he. Serving in the volunteer
ranks with him was one Elisha Riggs, several years his senior, and also
a draper. They had met before, but as competitors and on a cold business
basis. Now they were comrades in arms, and friends. Riggs is today
chiefly remembered to fame because he built what in its day was the most
palatial hotel in Washington, just as John Jacob Astor was scarcely
known outside of his bailiwick until he built that grand hostelry, the
Astor House. Riggs had carried a pack among the Virginia plantations,
but now he had established a wholesale drygoods house in Georgetown, and
sold only to storekeepers. He had felt the competitive force of
Peabody's pack, and would make friends with it. He proposed a
partnership. Peabody explained that his years were but nineteen, and
therefore he was not legally of age. Riggs argued that time would
remedy the defect. Riggs was rich--he had five thousand dollars, while
Peabody had one thousand six hundred fifty dollars and forty cents. I
give the figures exact, as the inventory showed.

But Peabody had one thing which will make any man or woman rich. It is
something so sweetly beneficent that well can we call it the gift of the
gods. The asset to which I refer is Charm of Manner. Its first requisite
is glowing physical health. Its second ingredient is absolute honesty.
Its third is good-will.

Nothing taints the breath like a lie. The old parental plan of washing
out the bad boy's mouth with soft soap had a scientific basis. Liars
must possess good memories. They are fettered and gyved by what they
have said and done. The honest man is free--his acts require neither
explanation nor apol