And in the cities things were worse, and gloomy as a country hearse was nearly every face; men stood around in dripping crowds, and viewed the stretch of leaking clouds, and called them a disgrace. Contractors, when they called on Hoar, who runs the corner lumber store, would make an awful fuss; “this is the blinkest, blankest Spring! We cannot do a doggone thing! It’s getting wuss and wuss! It keeps on raining all day long, the mud goes through to old Hong Kong, it will not dry till fall; unless the gods give us a show, out to the poorfarm we must go, our families and all!” But Hoar, the cheerful lumberman, is one who always ties a can to every gloomy thing; his optimism then he voiced, as he wrapped up a big oak joist, and tied it with a string. “The rain,” he said, “is coming yet, and I admit it’s pretty wet, in fact it’s almost damp; but you should hail it with delight, and shoo your troubles out of sight, and bid your griefs decamp. The ground is soaked clear through, you say, down to the center of Cathay, and that is joyous news; it means good crops for sundry years, so it’s a sin to sprinkle tears, or languish in the blues. The moisture stored in yonder soil will make our divers kettles boil, and bring us coin galore; you’ll have more palaces to build because the air with rain is filled, so please cut out the roar.” The man who sees the good in things, who chirps around and smiles and sings, and chortles by the year, not only boosts his private trade, but sees the ghosts of others laid--the ghosts of doubt and fear. PERSONALITY One dealer cannot understand why people needing planks or sand go past his door, to spend their mon with t’other dealers, Dadd & Son. His stock is just as good as Dadd’s; he gives as much for patron’s scads; why, then, do people pass his door, and pass him up forevermore? Perhaps he lacks the sort of charm that will all prejudice disarm, that makes his gladsome patrons shout, “I like to deal with that old scout.” A man may study all the tricks of commerce, trade or politics, may know his biz from A to Zed, and yet still fail to get ahead, if he has not that winning way that makes a new hit every day. One doctor’s good at making friends; from door to door he blithely wends, and fills his patients up with pills, and cheerfully they pay his bills. This doctor’s soon in Easy street; his motor choos along the street, he wears large diamonds on his tie, his life is one long piece of pie. Another sawbones knows full well all lore the physics books can tell. He studied medicine in Rome, and studied it some more at home. He knows all corners of his game, all ailments of the human frame, and he could cure the hopeless guy that other docs give up to die. But people say, “We’d rather croak than have that sour-faced doctor bloke!”