So we hurried to the underground railroad that runs beneath the busy streets, and were soon riding away in a fast express train. On we went in the darkness, through winding tunnels to the other end of the city. At last we stopped at a brilliantly lighted platform and were told that this was our destination. Leaving the train we did not ascend to the street, but went through great doors into a large room that was as light as day. Elevators took us up, up, from floor to floor. And what did we see, I hear you ask. We saw everything one could wish to buy. We saw everything we had ever dreamed of purchasing. We saw many beautiful things of which we had never heard, and we felt as if we were visiting a magic palace. At noon we ate our lunch in a pleasant restaurant up at the very top of the enormous building. It was quiet and peaceful, and we were glad to rest. When we were through, we found an attractive little concert hall where many persons were listening to a deep-toned organ. [Illustration: JOHN WANAMAKER (On left) Great Merchant and Philanthropist] We were told we were welcome to sit down and hear the sweet music. An hour passed before we were ready to leave. Then we continued our sightseeing, and it was late in the afternoon before we were ready to go home. We returned the same way we had come and when we were once more far up town in our own familiar street the rain had just stopped. Then we realized we had been in doors all day long and known nothing of the storm. It had indeed been just the kind of a day to go to Wanamakers. And what is Wanamakers? It is the name of two great stores, one in New York City and the other in Philadelphia. The owner, John Wanamaker, is the man who first thought of selling all manner of articles in one store, and so built what we call today a department store. No one who knew John Wanamaker when he was a boy thought he had any better chances than any other boy among his playmates, and no one foretold that he would become a great merchant. A plain two story house in Philadelphia was his early home. There he lived with his father and mother. His father was a brick maker, and while John was very small he would help his father by turning the bricks over so they would dry evenly. His father died in 1852. John was just fourteen, and he went to work in a book store. His wages were $1.50 a week, but he managed to save a little. His mother encouraged him and he says of her, "Her smile was a bit of heaven and it never faded out of her face till her dying day." Although at first the boy earned but little to help this good mother, he soon was able to care for her in a way beyond his highest hopes. What caused him to succeed? His capital! "But," you say, "he had no money; he was poor." True, his capital was not money. Let us see what it was. A few words will tell us. He had good health, good habits, a clean mind, thriftiness, and a tireless devotion to whatever he thought to be his duty.