THE HARDWOOD RECORD. 



15 



The Ma.i\ Abo\it To^vn. 



A SCRAP OF RUBBISH. 



There is u lulibibh iixmi m inv iniiKl 

 filled with the tlust-ooveretl fi-;uuos of 

 things that I have begun ami expect to 

 linish some day, and i>eoiiled with the 

 ghosts of projects I hope to carry to com- 

 pletion when I get time. It is a curious 

 place, marking the different stages of my 

 mental growth, from the Ivite-making pe- 

 ri(Hl of my boyhood to the present time. 



There is tlie water wheel, coustructecL 

 ou a new principle, all completed but one 

 paddle; a patent reversible derrick, which 

 (ailed to work; and a half-learned tune 

 \\hich I used to play uix>n the flute. There, 

 too, my project for becoming president hoi)- 

 nobs ^^■ith my project for becoming a mill- 

 ionaire, and the book I had meant to write 

 lies in the palace I had intended to build. 



Tliat the room is so full is not, I believe, 

 so much an evidence of flightiness or lack 

 of continuity on my part as it is of the 

 proueness of certain iM^ople to undertake 

 that which they are totally untittetl to carry 

 through; to a desire to achieve, not what 

 one is fitted to achieve, but that which, if 

 achieved, would bring riches and fame and 

 the opportunity to have an easy, restful 

 time the balance of their lives. Tlmt was 

 always the motive in all those abortive 

 undertaking.s— that I might, by some sud- 

 den stroke, rise to a place \\here I wouldn't 

 have to work any more unless I wished; 

 and it is just as well jiroliably that I gave 

 them up. 



If I liad pushed my w.iter wlieel to 

 completion it might have revolutionized 

 things and thrown a lot of people out of 

 work; my derrick might have dropped a 

 load and killed a lot of ptniple; and tlie 

 world would pr()bal>ly not have been any 

 better or happier had 1 continued to play 

 the flute. 



I judge that most men who have reached 

 the a,ge of forty have such a rubbish room 

 and are willing to concede that they have 

 not time now to finish any of the under- 

 takings, and that none of the projects will 

 ever be carried out. And they realize that 

 most of the undertakings Inid lietter been 

 let alone and most of the projects uever 

 entertained. 



A good many men are like young Jlr. 

 Peterkin, who, having arrived at man's es- 

 tate, and cast about for some congenial 

 and lucrative employment, decided that lie 

 would write a book. Being a young man 

 of nice taste and metho<lical mind, he made 

 thorough preparation. First he selected a 

 pleasant room witli just the right light 

 and furnished it handsomely and in excel- 

 lent taste. He provided himself with a 

 mahogany table and swivel chair, and pa- 

 per, pens and ink of the best quality. 



Then he sat down to his mahogany ta- 

 ble, in his swivel chair, pulled his excel- 

 lent paper before him. dipped his first- 

 class pen into his high-priced ink— and then 

 '•ouldn't think of anvtliing to write about. 



It takes long and arduous training be- 

 fore a man may do any good at writing 

 1 looks or being president, but a young mam 

 has to "projeck" around a good deal bo- 

 fore he finds that to be the case. 



When a man has reached forty and has 

 settled down to a grim, deterniinetl struggle 

 against a fate which seems to have des- 

 tined that he shall die in a poorhouse, over- 

 li.-iuling tliis rul>bish makes liim grin. 



* * :;: 



Amid this ghostly, musty, dusty com- 

 pany, I have, of late, detected a new face. 

 It is the disembodied spirit of a project 

 to write a history of the hardwoo<l lumber 

 trade. 



1 believe I'll do that some day— when I 

 liave time. 



There is material in tlii' richest profu- 

 sion. The evolution of the liardwood busi- 

 ness is unique in commercial liistory. It 

 is a new l)usiness. grown to gigantic pro- 

 portions in a quarter of a century, and in 

 its rapid development there is much to in- 

 terest, amuse, instruct and entertain. 



The early history of tlie trade was 

 largely made by a nnnilier of shrewd, en- 

 terprising, resourceful men, who, buying 

 tlieir stock largely from liack woodsmen and 

 fanners who knew but little of busjiuss 

 methods, or of the value of their product, 

 and forcing a market for it among con- 

 sumers ignorant of its cost, with no estab- 

 lished rules for grading, had an almost un- 

 limited field for manipulation and for 

 slirewd. sharp practice. That they im- 

 proved such opportunity is beyond ques- 

 ti(ui. Host of tlieir dealings were legiti- 

 mate, but it [laiiis nie to state that some 

 were not. 



But for ,ill tliey cost the trade they 

 much more than made, ameuds. They cre- 

 ated the hardwood business and gave value 

 to timlier ■\\-hich before had only cum- 

 bered the land. 



They were as bright and capable a lot 

 tit men as this or any other cotuitry ever 

 ju-oduced. The verj- nature of their Imsi- 

 iicss sharpened their wits and developed 

 force and originality. They had no estab- 

 lished customs or precedents to guide 

 iliem: everytliing dependetl on quick wit, 

 nerve and adaptability, and while I would 

 not attem]rt to justify many of their acts, 

 tlicre is mucli to be said in their favor. 

 Tlie reverse side of their character has 

 Iieen held up to pulilic view so often that 

 some people don't know there is any other 

 side. 



It may be that if their critics had the 

 oppoitunity to buy lumber for .$15 a thou- 

 sand and sell it for .|3lt, they wouldn't do 

 it, but they will have to show me before 

 I'll believe it. 



Much (if the lumber they bought in those 

 days, altiiough made from good logs, was 

 so poorly manufactured as to be nothing 

 but culls. That conditions were such that 

 fhev could sell it for common or firsts and 



seconds probably placed a moral obliga- 

 tion upon them to pay the manufacturer 

 lor the higher grade, but— well, average 

 human nature isn't built that waj'. Ex- 

 tremely upright and honorable men, such 

 as you are, dear reader, and as I am, 

 would, of course, have gone right back to 

 the manufacturer and given him every- 

 thing over a 10 ijer cent profit. Of course 

 we would, liut we must make allowance 

 for the weaknesses of tlie average man. 



And that was tlie head and front of 

 their sinning— that they were able to buy 

 their stock very cheap from the producers, 

 because it had never had any value before, 

 and by finding a market for it among those 

 who had no idea of its cost were enabled 

 to m.ike truly remarkable profits. 



That the opportunities were so great as 

 to tempt some to downright fraud and dis- 

 honesty is true, but there was a half-hu- 

 morous impudence about their rascality, 

 whicli, when related to-day, when the bit- 

 terness has gone, cannot but bring a smile 

 to the face of the man who has been about 

 in the world and wandered to and fro upon 

 the face of it. 



The foregoing « as snggestetl by the con- 

 versation of .1 nunilier of hardwood lum- 

 bermen who gathered in my office the other 

 day and fell to discussing the "old-times." 



Here are some of the stories they told. 

 .Vs some of the characters in the stories 

 are still li\iiig. the names used are ficti- 

 tious. 



* * * 



There was a saw mill man, once upon 

 a time, who operatetl a saw mill in In- 

 diana—a good little mill that made good 

 lumber. 



After selling here and there for a while, 

 he finally secured a customer in a yard 

 dealer in" Chicago. This dealer was prompt 

 pay and wrote mighty fine and compli- 

 mentary letters. There was always a 

 shortage, though, of from $10 to $20 a 

 car, according to Uie grade of lumber. 

 On a car of low-grade stock, the reduction 

 would not exceed, probably, $10; on high- 

 grade stock it sometimes ran as high as 

 $25. 



But the cheek always came back so 

 promptly and accompanied by such a polite 

 and regretful letter, and the amount of re- 

 duction was always too small to pay to 

 follow it up; and so the saw mill man con- 

 tinued to sliip. 



Finally, al'ter doing business "vvith th^ 

 dealer for several years, the mill man 

 loadwl a car at his station, got tlie bill of 

 lading and iiiailcd it with invoice to his 

 customer. 



In a few days tlie cliei-k <'arae, with the 

 usual letter. 



Tlie car had liceu received, the letter 

 said, and as usual the lumber was well, 

 made, but it had fallen .short a few hun- 

 dred feet in measure, which, with a small 

 auioimt of culls found, made it necessary 



