Radio Boys Cronies | Page 8

do more than that. War and fighting and being a king,--that's
nothing but selfishness! Some day people will build the largest
monuments to folks who have done big things for humanity,--not to
generals and kings. Just knowing how to scrap isn't much good. I've got
more respect for Professor Gray than I have for the champion prize
fighter. You can't-----"
"Maybe if you knew how to use your fists, you wouldn't talk that way;
eh, Gus?" queried Ted.
"Well, I don't know but I think Bill is right. It's nice to know how to
scrap if scrapping has to be done, but it shouldn't ever have to be
done,--between nations, anyway." This was a long speech for Gus, but
evidently he meant it.
Bill continued:
"Talking about Edison when he was a boy: he wasn't afraid of work,
either. He got up at about five, got back to supper at nine, or later, and
maybe that wasn't some day! But he made from $12 to $20 a day
profits, for it was Civil War times and everything was high."
"I think I'd work pretty hard for that much," said Gus.
"I reckon," remarked Ted, "that he had a pretty good reason to say that
successful genius is one per cent. inspiration and ninety-nine per cent.
perspiration."
"But I guess that's only partly right and partly modesty," declared Bill.
"There must have been a whole lot more than fifty per cent, inspiration
at work to do what he has done. But he is too busy to go around
blowing his own horn, even from a talking-machine record."
"He doesn't need to do any blowing when you're around," Ted offered.

Bill laughed outright at that and there seemed nothing further to be said.
The girls decided to go on, Ted walked up the street with them, and
Gus and his lame companion turned in the opposite direction toward
the less opulent section of the town. There were chores to do at home
and Gus often lent a hand to help his father who was the town carpenter.
Bill, the only son of a widow whose small means were hardly adequate
for the needs of herself and boy, did all he could to lessen the daily
pinch.
CHAPTER VI
THE BOYHOOD OF A GENIUS
The class had assembled again in Professor Gray's study and all were
eager to hear the second talk on Edison. There was a delay of many
minutes past the hour stated, but the anticipation was such that the time
was hardly noticed. During the interim, Professor Gray came to where
Bill and Gus sat.
"I hear that you boys intend to go to work in the mills next week," he
said. "Well, now, I have some news and a proposition, so do not be
disappointed if the beginning sounds discouraging. In the first place I
saw Mr. Deering, superintendent of the mills, again and he told me that
while he would make good his promise to take you on, there would
hardly be more than a few weeks' work. Orders are scarce and they
expect to lay off men in August, though there is likely to be a
resumption of business in the early fall when you are getting back into
school work. So wouldn't it be better to forego the mill work,--there
goes the announcement! I'll talk with you before you leave."
"But we need the money; don't we, Gus?"
"We do," said Gus.
"I wonder if the Professor thinks we're millionaires." Bill was plainly
disappointed.
"Oh, well, he didn't finish what he was saying to us. Let's listen to the

weather report," demanded Gus, ever optimistic and joyful.
The words came clearer than ever out of that wonderful horn. There
was to be rain that afternoon--local thunderstorms, followed by clearing
and cooler. On the morrow it would be cloudy and unsettled.
Bill felt as though that prediction suited his mental state! Gus was
never the kind to worry; he sat smiling at the horn and he received with
added pleasure the music of a band which followed. And then came the
second talk on the boyhood of the master of invention.
"It has been said," spouted the horn, "that high mental characteristics
are accompanied by heroic traits. Whether true or not generally, it was
demonstrated in young Edison and it governed his learning telegraphy
and the manner thereof. The story is told by the telegraph operator at
Mt. Clemens, where the red-headed conductor threw the train boy and
his laboratory off the train.
"'Young Edison,' says the station agent, 'had endeared himself to the
station agents, operators and their families all along the line. As the
mixed train did the way-freight work and the switching at Mt. Clemens,
it usually consumed not less than thirty minutes, during which time