“Oh punk. I don’t see what’s the use of law-school--or even finishing
high school. I don’t want to go to college specially. Honest, there’s
lot of fellows that have graduated from colleges that don’t begin to
make as much money as fellows that went to work early. Old Shimmy
Peters, that teaches Latin in the High, he’s a what-is-it from Columbia
and he sits up all night reading a lot of greasy books and he’s always
spieling about the ‘value of languages,’ and the poor soak doesn’t make
but eighteen hundred a year, and no traveling salesman would think of
working for that. I know what I’d like to do. I’d like to be an aviator,
or own a corking big garage, or else--a fellow was telling me about it
yesterday-- I’d like to be one of these fellows that the Standard Oil
Company sends out to China, and you live in a compound and don’t have to
do any work, and you get to see the world and pagodas and the ocean and
everything! And then I could take up correspondence-courses. That’s the
real stuff! You don’t have to recite to some frosty-faced old dame
that’s trying to show off to the principal, and you can study any
subject you want to. Just listen to these! I clipped out the ads of some
swell courses.”
He snatched from the back of his geometry half a hundred advertisements
of those home-study courses which the energy and foresight of American
commerce have contributed to the science of education. The first
displayed the portrait of a young man with a pure brow, an iron jaw,
silk socks, and hair like patent leather. Standing with one hand in his
trousers-pocket and the other extended with chiding forefinger, he was
bewitching an audience of men with gray beards, paunches, bald heads,
and every other sign of wisdom and prosperity. Above the picture was an
inspiring educational symbol--no antiquated lamp or torch or owl of
Minerva, but a row of dollar signs. The text ran:
$ $ $ $ $ $ $ $ $
POWER AND PROSPERITY IN PUBLIC SPEAKING
A Yarn Told at the Club
Who do you think I ran into the other evening at the De Luxe Restaurant?
Why, old Freddy Durkee, that used to be a dead-or-alive shipping clerk
in my old place-- Mr. Mouse-Man we used to laughingly call the dear
fellow. One time he was so timid he was plumb scared of the Super, and
never got credit for the dandy work he did. Him at the De Luxe! And if
he wasn’t ordering a tony feed with all the “fixings” from celery to
nuts! And instead of being embarrassed by the waiters, like he used to
be at the little dump where we lunched in Old Lang Syne, he was bossing
them around like he was a millionaire!
WHAT WE TEACH YOU!
How to address your lodge.
How to give toasts.
How to tell dialect stories.
How to propose to a lady.
How to entertain banquets.
How to make convincing selling-talks.
How to build big vocabulary.
How to create a strong personality.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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