FOREWORD I. ONE SUMMER'S DAY II. MENDING A WATCH III. THE FIRST JOB IV. AN EXACTING ROUTINE V. GETTING THE MACHINE IDEA VI. BACK TO THE FARM VII. THE ROAD TO HYMEN VIII. MAKING A FARM EFFICIENT IX. THE LURE OF THE MACHINE SHOPS X. "WHY NOT USE GASOLINE?" XI. BACK TO DETROIT XII. LEARNING ABOUT ELECTRICITY XIII. EIGHT HOURS, BUT NOT FOR HIMSELF XIV. STRUGGLING WITH THE FIRST CAR XV. A RIDE IN THE RAIN XVI. ENTER COFFEE JIM XVII. ANOTHER EIGHT YEARS XVIII. WINNING A RACE XIX. RAISING CAPITAL XX. CLINGING TO A PRINCIPLE XXI. EARLY MANUFACTURING TRIALS XXII. AUTOMOBILES FOR THE MASSES XXIII. FIGHTING THE SELDON PATENT XXIV. "THE GREATEST GOOD TO THE GREATEST NUMBER" XXV. FIVE DOLLARS A DAY MINIMUM XXVI. MAKING IT PAY XXVII. THE IMPORTANCE OF A JOB XXVIII. A GREAT EDUCATIONAL INSTITUTION XXIX. THE EUROPEAN WAR XXX. THE BEST PREPAREDNESS ------------------------------------------------------------------------ HENRY FORD'S OWN STORY CHAPTER I ONE SUMMER'S DAY It was a hot, sultry day in the last of July, one of those Eastern summer days when the air presses heavily down on the stifling country fields, and in every farmyard the chickens scratch deep on the shady side of buildings, looking for cool earth to lie upon, panting. "This weather won't hold long," William Ford said that morning, giving the big bay a friendly slap and fastening the trace as she stepped over. "We'd better get the hay under cover before night." There was no sign of a cloud in the bright, hot sky, but none of the hired men disputed him. William Ford was a good farmer, thrifty and weather-wise. Every field of his 300-acre farm was well cared for, yielding richly every year; his cattle were fat and sleek, his big red barns the best filled in the neighborhood. He was not the man to let ten acres of good timothy-and-clover hay get caught in a summer shower and spoil. They put the big hay-rack on the wagon, threw in the stone water jugs, filled with cool water from the well near the kitchen door, and drove out to the meadow. One imagines them working there, lifting great forksful of the clover-scented hay, tossing them into the rack, where, on the rising mound, the youngest man was kept busy shifting and settling them with his fork. Grasshoppers whirred up from the winrows of the dried grass when they were disturbed, and quails called from the fence corners.