The Iron Puddler: My Life in the Rolling Mills and What Came of It

expect no gift from life, but that what I got I must win with my hands. He taught me that good m

the secrets of the trade were passed from father to son as a legacy of great value, and were never told to persons outside the family. Such skill meant good wages when there was work. But there was not work all the tim

in the days when they believed that work would make them wealthy. Had they stuck to that truth they would not be a ruined people to-day. Grandfather also went to America, where his skill helped build the first blast furnace in

metal is there," he said, "as it is in Russia. Russia may never develop, but America will

bring forth good fruit, he left his ancient home in Wal

he teachers had forbidden me to throw paper wads, or spitballs. I thought I could go through the motion of throwing a spitball without letting it go. But

ing spitballs. I forgive you for throwing the spitba

ome in rebellion. I told my father. I wan

e is honest, he is just, he is kind. If he whipped you, you deserved

cates the mind," and I can here testify that father's hand set my mental processes straight. From that day I never have been la

al punishment at Mooseheart, but we have discipline. A child must be restrained. Whenever a crop of unrestrained youngsters takes the rein

. He never expected any gift from life. I thought once to surprise him. I wanted to buy a fine house and give it to him. He wouldn't have it. He stayed in his own little cottage. It was not in his theory of life