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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, June 13, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 18',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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By Gerald Home
(Copvrieht. 1916. W. G. Chanman.)
Alfred Lyons was a very ordinary
young man. He franklv admitted
this to his sweetheart, Lily,, when
expressing wonder that she should
ever nave agreed to marrv him.
"You are wonderful," answered
Lily, "and I know you are going to
Decome a successful man."
"You're right there," answered Al-
irea. But now did vou know?"
"Because you have perseverance,"
answered Lily, receiving the kiss that
noverea upon his lips.
Alfred was amazed al her perspi
cacity. That was his one quality. He
was as adhesive as a bulldog smoth
ered in court plaster. He had the
grip of a letter clip crossed with a
sticktight And yet it may be said
paradoxically that he stuck at noth
ing. He had already outlined his life. "I
am going to become air. Plethora's
private secretary at $5,000 a year,"
he said. "After I have learned the
Wall street game from him I shall go
into business on my own account and
make my millions. Then I shall oust
Plethora from Wall street and rule in
his stead. Then we'll retire to that
little farm you spoke of and own an
"And travel in Europe," suggested
Lily, looking at him in awe and won
der. "Precisely," answered Alfred. "Now
I'm off to interview Plethora."
One of Mr. Plethora's peculiarities
was that he insisted on seeing every
body in person who applied to him
for a job. Therefore Alfred had no
difficulty in interviewing the great
man. Nobody knew just what Mr.
Plethora wanted in applicants, but
when Alfred got into his presence,
27th on the regular Saturday list of
applicants, he was turned down cold.
"There's nothing here for you."
said Mr. Plethora. "No, there never J
will be anything, but you can leave
your name and address if it will
make you feel better."
"Think it over again," said Alfred.
"I want a job as your secretary and
I mean to get it."
"Next, please," said Mr. Plethora's
secretary, grinning. And Alfred
was ushered out
In spite of Alfred's nerve, Mr.
Plethora had entirely forgotten him
by the next morning. That was be
cause, as has been explained, Alfred
was a very ordinary young man.
Jumped When He Saw the Now
There was nothing distinguished
about him. He was the sort of young
man whom one sees the minute one
looks out of the window. Take a
glance at the next young man who
passes your door. That's Alfred. Go
to a baseball game and look at the
first young man you see upon the
bleachers. That's Alfred. Go on an
excursion and look at the young man
at your side, eating a ham sandwich.
That's Alfred, too.
Consequently, when Mr. Plethora