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had no money. There was a college boarding hall. I noticed that they kept a cow, and I conceived the idea that that cow might help support me. I applied to the matron and arranged that for feeding and milking the cow and running some errands (the telephone was not yet) I was to have my board. It seemed to me then that everything was favorable. I continued to earn my board in this way till towards the close of my sophomore year. Then, for what reason I do not now recall, I resigned as milkman and secured a position to assist in the dining-room of a leading hotel. There was no specific contract as to how much I was to do. What was right in service for my board was left entirely to my judgment. But I recall that I aimed at one thing—punctuality. I do not remember ever to have been late. I remained there until I voluntarily quit near the close of my senior year. I never had any misunderstanding with anyone while there; was always treated well, and liked the place. The board, of course, was good—almost too good for a college student.

      A young man in college, though, must have collars and cuffs, and a cravat occasionally and new clothes. He will have laundry bills, and must have money for stationery and postage, if he writes home to mother weekly. Every young man who has a mother should do so. I was such a young man, and of necessity I was constantly alert for employment that would bring me needed money. My suit became shabby. I pondered what to do. I saw in the Sunday School Times an announcement of Dr. Trumbull’s new book, “Teaching and Teachers,” and sent for a copy and agent’s terms. It sold for $1.50 and the commission was 60 cents per copy. I started out, and by putting in spare time for a week I earned enough to purchase the new suit. The college cistern needed cleaning. I took the contract for $3.50. It was a large cistern and supplied the drinking water for the dormitory students. There was about one foot of water in it the day I cleaned it. I hired a fellow for $1.00 to hoist the buckets and I went down into it and scrubbed it clean. We finished about sunset. The authorities concluded to lay a new conducting pipe from the dormitory to the cistern, a distance of about fifteen feet. While we were cleaning they tore the old one out. Just as we finished, the college president came along and peered down at me. “Ah,” said he, “how nice and clean. Now pray for rain.” “No, no,” exclaimed the registrar, who had overheard him, “don’t you see we have not laid the new conductor pipe? Wait till that is laid before you pray.” There was no sign of rain. We felt perfectly secure in leaving it; but that night there came a great storm with a terrific downpour. The water collected from the dormitory roof was discharged into that open clay ditch in which the new conducting pipe was to be laid and thence flowed in a dashing stream into the cistern. At sun-up there was four feet of water and clay in the cistern. I had another contract at $5.00 that day, and I wrote on the fly-leaf of my trigonometry that night, “God helps those who help themselves,” and I’ve believed it ever since.

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