Just about this time, the run-down little sheet, the Marion _Star_, was scheduled to be sold by the sheriff. Dr. Harding bought it in at a bargain and turned it over to his boy, because of his faith in him and because he wanted to help him get a start in the line of work he seemed most anxious to follow. From the moment he took possession of the paper that owned only two hundred pounds of type, he put into it hard work, faith, and enthusiasm. Often he could not pay his helpers in the early days, and sometimes when he did pay them off on Saturday night he would have to borrow back a little to tide himself over the opening of the week. Sometimes he had to coax advances on bills from his advertisers to keep going. He filled every position, from printer’s devil to managing editor, but he was never known to lose his pleasure in being just one of the boys. Later, when the paper began to succeed financially, he saw to it that his employees got more pay, and still later he formed a stock company in which they all held shares. His paper never had a strike; a strike was never even threatened. No more illuminating view of his character was ever shown than is contained in a tribute he wrote to his dog long before any high honours came to him. The obituary published in the Marion _Star_ about twenty years before he came to the Presidency is worthy of attention. It reads: “Jumbo, the _Star_ office dog, died Sunday, not from old age, but from somebody’s cruel poisoning or from extreme heat. “Jumbo was probably known to more people in Marion than any dog in the city. He had been making acquaintances at the _Star_ office for eight years. He had romped with hundreds of newsboys and found canine joy in their familiar greetings. “Yet there was a serious side to this playful good-natured dog. He had a watchful eye for the suspicious-looking, and would guard a trust with a faithfulness that men might well imitate. “He was overzealous, perhaps, in exercising the responsibility he felt in keeping watch at the home which sheltered him, but he never harmed anyone without cause. He was only a dumb brute, but had proved his intelligence, made himself understood with his great tender eyes, and possessed a rare combination of dignity and docility. “The _Star_ workers, from pressroom to business office, felt Jumbo to be part of the force, and it would be false to the feelings of all to allow his passing without notice and tribute. “Dear Old Jumbo, your eight years of devotion and faithfulness have emphasized the realization that a good dog’s life is all too short--and you were a good dog! You taught us anew how a fine, noble dog like you can win his way to human hearts and grow attachments most painful to have severed.”