Hidden Treasures | Page 6

Harlem; Mr. Vanderbilt was sure it would pass, but Daniel Drew, his antagonist, who ever fought Harlem or Central as they were against Erie, caused a counter movement to be made which defeated the bill. Vanderbilt heard of it, and of course was disappointed but made no foolish protests with the treacherous 'friends' at the capitol. In the meantime these people were selling Harlem short for future delivery, expecting that the stock would "take a tumble" when it became known that the bill was defeated. As before said Vanderbilt said nothing, but quietly bought up every scrap of stock there was to be found loose. The fatal day came but Harlem stood firm. The derelict Assemblymen were thunderstruck when they had to buy at a greatly enhanced price, and many of the would-be victors were ruined. In 1873 the Lake Shore & Michigan Southern railroad was operated in connection with the Vanderbilt system, making a Palace Car route from New York city to Chicago. From New York to Buffalo a quadruple track, thence a double track.
Among the charities of Mr. Vanderbilt is a gift of three-quarters of a million to the University in Nashville, Tennessee, which bears his name. He died in 1877 worth about eighty millions.

AMOS LAWRENCE.
Amos Lawrence was born April 22nd, 1786. He was a weak child, consequently could not attend school, but his mother did not neglect him. When only thirteen years old he became a clerk in a country store. In this store was kept everything in the hardware line, from a plow to a needle; in the textile line, from a horse-blanket to a pocket handkerchief; then you could buy the productions usually found in a vegetable garden,--everything was kept, even to Jamaica rum and drugs for the sick; a good place, indeed, for a bright, active boy to gain new ideas. Each country store, in those days, had its bar, and the clerks were as likely to be called on to mix drinks, as they were to be asked to measure off dry goods, and it was considered as honorable. Not only this, but it was customary for clerks to take a drink themselves, but young Lawrence determined to neither drink nor smoke. True, he liked the taste of liquor, and enjoyed a quiet smoke, but he argued that such pleasures, not only eat up profits already earned, but left the system in a poor condition to earn more. When we consider that he was a mere lad of thirteen, or at best fourteen, when he had decided upon this honorable course, and when we think that at least, for the time being, these luxuries would have cost nothing, we are constrained to say, no wonder he became a rich man.
If our young men would only save the money they yearly smoke up and spend for other needless things, we would have clearer headed and much wealthier men. Our young men all desire to gain wealth and the highest enjoyments possible in this world, but are not willing to pay for them. If they would examine the lives of a great many of our most wealthy and influential men of to-day, they would be surprised to learn how few even smoke.
If you see a man with a high hat, gaudily dressed, smoking and seemingly inviting your attention at some horse trot, where he is making a great display of wealth in the way of bets, you can set it down as pretty certain that that man is a clerk working for $10 or $15 per week, or at best, a mere curb-stone broker who will never rise to anything higher. Real wealth and distinction never invite your attention. One would hardly take that plain old gentleman, walking along the street yonder, for other than a country deacon, yet the check of Russell Sage will be recognized and honored to the amount of millions. Jay Gould never enjoys himself more than when at home.
We spend as a nation now, every year, NINE HUNDRED MILLIONS FOR LIQUOR and THREE HUNDRED and FIFTY MILLIONS for TOBACCO. Total, ONE BILLION, TWO HUNDRED and FIFTY MILLIONS. One billion, two hundred and fifty millions thrown away. More than twice what we use for bread and meat. Then look at that vast waste of unearned wages. Man can't do two things well at one time. In our large cities we have, of late, seen drunken men, with pipes in their mouths, carrying about the streets a banner inscribed, "bread or blood." They propose to make those who have worked intelligently for money, now divide. Would it not look far more sensible if the banner bore the inscription, henceforth, I will boycott the tobacconist, and will vote for no man who is not pledged to suppress the saloon oligarchy?
Amos Lawrence had not