--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Evans, John Henry collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 15 number: 8 published: 1912-06 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'John Henry Evans, "The Open Road: Stages V and VI," *Improvement Era* 15, no. 8 (June 1912): 715–725.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1508unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera1508unse start_page: 715 end_page: 725 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1912-06) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1508unse publication_year: 1912 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1912, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The Open Road: Stages V and VI The Open Road BY JOHN HENRY EVANS, OF THE LATTER-DAY SAINTS UNIVERSITY Stage V— Which Relates How Brocketts Meets a New friend and Gets in a Temper Over an Old One. There was no one in the book store that evening except the book-seller himself, a lithe, nimble figure, who, like the particles of ether, kept up a perpetual motion. James Dargan's friends, when they ventured on an explanation at all, attributed his intense activity to the fact that he was Irish. But everybody has known sons of Erin who moved as slowly as a state legislature when the people want something done in a hurry. No one, however, tried to explain why he had such a scanty growth of whiskers on his face. And there was never the least doubt that to his propensity to bob about so quickly from place to place was to be attributable the fact that his hair inclined to curliness, for the ends of it were constantly endeavoring to anticipate the direction in which its owner would go next, and getting very much twisted in consequence. If there were books and book stores in the pre-existent state, then certainly James Dargan was a book-seller before he came here. For no man of this calling ever proved more to the manor born. He could name over the principal newspapers and magazines of America as fast as a hotel waiter can run off the bill-offare, and that, too, without giving you the impression that you were hearing for the first time a foreign tongue. He knew the name of every book you would be likely to want, and could tell you what it contained and whether you would be interested in it or not. And he was as enthusiastic over his affairs as he was full of information. Once you got under his spell, you invariably went away with a volume under your arm. That you did not pay for it on the spot was neither here nor there with him. His mission in life was to get you to read. 716 IMPROVEMENT ERA As I started to say, on this particular evening Mr. Dargan was dodging here and there about the store, putting this book where it would show to better advantage, rearranging the papers on his desk, straightening things generally before the busy morrow, and looking up now and then from his work to see what the prospects were for a customer. Once he looked eagerly in the direction of the front window where a boy was peering through the glass to read the titles of some volumes there. "That's three times this half hour he's looked at those books," said Mr. Dargan in his quick manner of speech, as if to somebody near him. "Guess he needs help. I'll go out there and see." But before he reached the door the boy was gone. He returned, though, presently, and the book-seller invited him in. It was Brocketts. "Come in, my boy, come in !" Mr. Dargan was saying enthusiastically. "I knew you wanted a book. This is the only book store in town" — which was literally true. "And I can help you to pick out a good one. There are books and books," he rattled on voluminously. "But a good many people don't know that. They think everything's done if they are only reading. That's not true, though, my boy, is it?" Brocketts said he thought it was very far from the truth. "Exactly! There are some books that'll stand you on your head, morally speaking, before you've gone ten pages. You know that, too, very likely?" "I haven't read much, sir." "Well, you've plenty of time before you. You intend to read, don't you?" "Yes, sir; I like reading." "To be sure, to be sure ! And I've — I've — got exactly what you want." And suiting the action to the word and the word to the action, Mr. Dargan almost ran to the rear of the store and pulled out a volume. "Here's a good book for young men — something that'll fill them with "ginger" and "go." It tells you about men who have succeeded and how they've succeeded. Self-Help it's called — by Samuel Smiles. Have you ever read it?" THE OPEN ROAD 717 Brocketts had not. "Well, then, it's just the book for you !" And he thrust the volume into the hands of the boy. Brocketts, however, looked puzzled. He had no money with him. It was hardly probable that Mr. Dargan was giving him the book. The book-man saw his embarrassment and relieved it by— "Oh, if you haven't the money it doesn't matter. I'll trust you. Take the book and pay me when you can. I've trusted hundreds and never lost a red cent by it yet." "But I've got money at home!" Brocketts protested. "I'll go there and get some — it isn't far. How much is it?" "A dollar and a quarter." And Brocketts went hastily out. In a few minutes, however, he came back very much excited. "I've been robbed, Mr. Dargan — somebody's stolen my money. I had it on the shelf in a small baking powder can !" "You don't say so!" said Mr. Dargan in astonishment. "A boy's hard earnings deliberately stolen, and in Great Salt Lake City! Well, things have come to a pretty pass. Tell me about it." "All I know about it is that I had seven dollars and eightyfive cents in a baking-powder can last night, because I counted it — and now it's gone. I've been saving it for eight weeks, and it was all I had." The tears stood in the boy's eyes, but it would be unmanly to shed them. "And do you know who took it ?" "I think I do. It's a young fellow that used to work at Bernstein's. He saw me counting it a few nights ago when he tried to get me to go out with his crowd at night and I wouldn't go. I'll lambaste him good for that, you bet your bottom dollar!" "Now that's entirely wrong — what's your name?" "Brocketts, sir." "Well, that's not right, Brocketts— not right." "What'd he go and do that sneaking thing for, then?" Brocketts wanted to know. "Because he was a sneak himself, if he did it. But that—" "Oh, he did it all right— I know him." 718 IMPROVEMENT ERA "What 1 was going to say was: Suppose he did it, that doesn't excuse you when you take the law into your own hands. You can't get your money back anyhow. It's gone. And then you'll be dirtying your hands. Men who respect themselves don't do that sort of thing. Take my advice and let him alone." Brocketts said nothing. "Why didn't you put your money in the bank?" queried the book-man. "I didn't know about it," Brocketts answered. "Is there a bank here?" "Why yes — it's just across the street from here. Put your next money there ; it'll be safe and will draw interest besides." "That's what I ought to have done, sure." Brocketts was lured from his anger by the prospects, as Mr. Dargan knew he would be. "But never mind about what's gone," the book-man repeated. "Put your next savings in the bank and get five per cent interest." "That's what I'll do. Only, it's hard not to think about that dog of a Tom doing — " "Hold on !" Mr. Dargan cried, "you don't know for sure that he did it. I've had worse experiences than that, and I've learned that it's poor business crying over spilt milk — poor business." Brocketts looked at his friend expectantly. "My father kicked me out of doors when I was younger than you are, Brocketts. He was a hot-tempered man, was my father. From that day I had to make my own living — like you. "And how old were you?" "Oh, I couldn't have been more than fourteen. My father was the largest wholesaler and retailer in Rochester, New York. I remember going that night to the place where the Spiritualists held their meetings, and hunting for a man I thought would help me. The man was not there — no one was there ; and so I lay on the floor all night to rest. I've had many a night like that, Brocketts. We've got to put up with a good deal in the way of bad fortune in this world, through men and things. That's what we have." This incident at once put the two on a common footing. Brocketts wondered how Mr. Dargan had won his success. How he would have liked to know ! THE OPEN ROAD 719 "And so you're working for Bernstein? How long have you been with him?" Brocketts told him. He gave him more information than this question called for. He talked of his own struggles from the time he left the orphanage till his recent rise in fortunes with his employer. But how he got into the orphanage and how he meant to find his father and mother some day, he kept to himself. That was a secret he meant to preserve from the profanation of revealment. Mr. Dargan listened with a sympathy for the poor, lone boy which few men in Salt Lake City could have felt, on account of his own orphaned experiences. The hearts of these two were bound together with the strongest bonds of affection. "Well, I must be going," Brocketts said, "I 've been here a long time. I'll leave the book here till I can pay for it down. Mr. Bernstein says it's a bad thing for a boy to get into debt." "Debt is a bad thing, as you say," the book-seller observed. "But you take Self-Help with you just the same. I'll give it to you. Take it with my compliments. Here," he went on, reaching for the volume, which Brocketts had held in his hands during the conversation, "I'll write something in it." And almost before Brocketts could say anything Mr. Dargan had written the boy's name in it, with his own compliments, and given it back to him, with the remark — "There, Brocketts, it's your very own. Read it carefully. That'll be all'the pay I want, for I know it'll do you good." And the young man went home book in hand and inexpressible lightness at heart. Stage VI— Wherein Brocketts and Mr. Dargan Come to an Important Decision "Well, Brocketts, and what do you think of Samuel Smiles by this time?" Brocketts was in the book store again, a few evenings later than that on which Dargan had given him the copy of Self-Hclp. "Fine!" was the answer. "Best book I ever read ! I sat up reading it all that first night and finished it the next." "You are a great reader, to be sure," the book-man cried, with open admiration. "It's a good book, no doubt about that— 720 IMPROVEMENT ERA the best book ever written for boys that have anything in them. What's that you've got?" "Oh, its Self Help — I brought it with me. I want to ask you a question." "All right, sir," Mr. Dargan said cheerfully. Nevertheless he reached for the book as if he and not Brocketts was to ask the question. The boy gave him the book. "I always like to see a book that's been read just to find out what they've done with it," the book-seller commented ungrammatically as he turned the pages. "I see you've marked it up a good deal." "Why, did I do wrong to mark it?" Brocketts inquired doubtfully. "No, no ! certainly not ! That shows you've read it carefully. What's all this margin on the book for if it isn't to make marks on? Let's see, now, what passages you've liked." And he read aloud some of the underlined sentences — " 'Might I give counsel to any young man, I would say to him try to frequent the company of your betters. In books and in life, that is the most wholesome society ; learn to admire rightly ; the great pleasure of life is that. Note what great men admired; they admired great things ; narrow spirits admire basely, and worship meanly.' " "That's from Thackeray, and very true," observed Mr. Dargan. "Very true. What's this?" and he read again — " 'The poorest have sometimes taken the highest places, nor have difficulties apparently the most insuperable proved obstacles in their way. Those very difficulties, in many instances, would even seem to have been their best helpers, by evoking their powers of labor and endurance, and stimulating into life faculties which might otherwise have lain dormant.' " A customer came in at this point, was waited on, and went out. "Talking about difficulties, Brocketts," said Mr. Dargan, returning to the stove, where the two had been sitting — "talking about obstacles and their being helps instead of a hindrance, I know in my own experiences how true that is. Difficulties have been the making of me — what little there is made." "And that's exactly what my question's about," cried Brocketts. Self-Help is a great book and I like it ever so much. But THE OPEN ROAD 721 I'd like it better if it told more about each man and hozv he got on. If you wouldn't mind telling me, I'd like to know how you succeeded. I'd rather have that than anything." "Very well, Brocketts, and you shall have it. But first I've got to sell this man a book." The man was just coming in. He was waited on. Mr. Dargan returned to the stove, and began his story. "Climbing hills is what makes us, my lad, if there's anything in us to be made — I mean business hills. I'm glad now that my life hasn't been on the plain, else I shouldn't have been worth a copper, except these little red pieces that you can put into your pocket." Mr. Dargan was a very demonstrative man. That is why, at this point, he actually put his hand into his left trousers pocket, pulled out eleven cent pieces, and exhibited them on the palm of his hand. His young friend having looked at them with great amazement, the book-seller proceeded : "I was quite a young man when I came to Utah. I hadn't a friend here — not a soul that I knew. And so I had to get along as best I could. I hadn't any money, either, and I wanted to set up in business. Now, what do you think I did?" Brocketts put on a puzzled air for a moment, as if he were in deep thought over a great problem. "Well, you never could guess. So I'll tell you. I borrowed five dollars — just five dollars, of Brother Fotheringham — good old soul — he's dead now. I borrowed five dollars of him, sent back to New York City for some newspapers and magazines, and set up a news stand in the Constitution Building. That seems a long time ago, now. Well, I sold those papers like hot cakes, ordered some more, and sold them, till I paid back that five dollars and got a good start. "In a little while everybody, nearly, was reading the New York Ledger, the Home and Fireside, the Youth's Companion, and a dozen others that I brought here for the first time. I dealt only in newspapers and magazines then. And I'll tell you what I've seen. Of a Saturday morning, when the papers came in, I've seen a line of people nearly a block long, like theatre goers at the ticket office, waiting their turn to get a paper at my shop. 722 IMPROVEMENT ERA That's what I've seen. I had a long row of boys folding papers and selling them as fast as they could. "After that I got a supply of books. There's more money in books than in papers. But I didn't give up the papers entirely. T set up a stand at the Hampton House to catch the tourist trade. That was just after the railroad came here. I've still got the stand there. "Only last year I bought several thousand copies of the Book of Mormon the Dcseret News people had on hand, and sold every jack one of them. Then I sent East for over a thousand copies of a large octavo edition of- the Book of Mormon that some publishing house there had got out, and I sold them. It was a rare and beautiful edition — the finest I ever saw. "And now, you see, I've got this store sixty feet by two hundred, the walls lined with books — all paid for. I don't owe a man in the world so much as a red copper — not a red copper. It's not a good thing to owe anybody anything for more than thirty days. That's my policy." "But hoiv did you do it, Mr. Dargan — hoiv did you do all this?" "You mean what principles did I follow?" asked the genial book-man. "I guess that's what I mean — I don't quite know." Brocketts had listened to this narrative like a three years' child, and he wanted to hear something more — something that would help him in his work. "Well, first I decided what I wanted to do," continued Mr. Dargan. 'You can't do anything till you've decided that. Anyway, I couldn't. A good many young men waste their time doing now this and now that, instead of lighting on some one thing and sticking to it. Before I was your age I had determined to be a book-seller, and the best one in the land. I don't know how good a one I am, or how poor a one I am, because there are no others here; but I know I've done my best in a business I like. And not everybody can say that, Brocketts." "Sure !" was the young man's emphatic assent. "And then, again, I've never been afraid of work. Work — that's the thing. You know, I don't believe much in genius. Those boys who believe they have genius are generally lazy. THE OPEN ROAD 723 They're not afraid of work, either. Not they. For they can lie right down by it and not be a bit scared. But they don't do any of it, I notice. They are everlastingly looking about for a soft snap. I've seen a good deal of this world, Brocketts, but never a soft snap have I seen. I've always had to work, and work hard. It's a good thing. "But a man's got to have more than something to do and work hard at it." Unconsciously Mr. Dargan found himself preaching instead of narrating. But Brocketts — eager, open-eyed and open-minded Brocketts — did not know the difference. "A man's got to think if he's to get on in the world. He has to do two kinds of thinking. "First, he's got to keep his information account open and always ready for deposits. Once he closes his information account, it's all up with him. He may as well close shop. He ought to know absolutely everything about his business. The feelers of his mind ought to be always out. As long as there's something about your affairs that you don't know, you're always in danger. "That's one kind of thinking. The other kind is about something beyond what you're doing now. "If you're in business for yourself, you've got to study how to promote it; if you're working for somebody else, you've got to study how to be promoted. No business man ever promotes a man who does no more than give satisfaction in what he's doing. He must show capacity to do more, to do something higher. "I'll tell you a story, Brocketts. It's about myself, and may sound like bragging ; but it's true as the gospel. "I used to be a clerk in a book-store back in Rochester. That was after I'd been sent away from home. It was a big concern and employed eight clerks. Well, I was at the foot of the list, partly on account of my being so young, partly because I was the newest clerk. But I wanted to get on as much as the oldest of them. So I studied the book business. It was not long before I knew the names of all the books in that store and where every one of them was to be found. If I do say it myself, I was the only clerk there that did know these two things ; for time and again I had heard the clerks tell our customers, when they asked for cer- 724 IMPROVEMENT ERA tain books, that we didn't have them in stock — and all the time I knew we had. Of course I didn't say anything to them about it. "But one evening after all the rest had gone home — it was Saturday evening — I went to my employer. " 'Mr. Fleming,' I said, 'I think I can be of more service to you.' "He looked at me. 'How so ?' he asked. " 'Why,' I answered, 'there's no method or system in the arrangement of these books here. And you're losing money by it every day. If a clerk doesn't know the name of every book in the store and where it's found, he doesn't know whether we've got it in stock or not. Then there's lots of time wasted in hunting for books.' " 'That's very true, James,' he said, 'but what can you do about it?' " 'If you'll lock me in here tonight, tomorrow, and the next night, I'll agree to rearrange all your books in such a way that anybody can find any book we have in stock.' " 'Done, sir!' "And so I was locked in, after I had gone out and got me enough food to last me for the thirty-six hours. "Well, I worked as I had never worked before and as I have never worked since. But I got them all moved. Over here, I put all the books published by Harper and Brothers, with the volumes arranged according to subjects, and the name 'Harper and Brothers' Publications' above the group. In the same way I arranged the publications of Longmans, Green and Company ; of Scribner's ; of MacMillan ; and the rest. "You ought to have seen my employer's eyes Monday morning. But he didn't say anything for a long while. Then he called all the clerks to his desk. "D'ye see how the books are grouped this morning?' he asked us. "Well, that's James' idea and James' work.' "And he made me head clerk on the spot, with four times the salary I had been getting!" Brocketts' eyes gladdened as if all this had been about himself. "But there's one thing I've always felt the need of," Mr. Dargan went on, "that's an education. I've never had much THE OPEN ROAD 725 schooling. And I've noticed that a man gets on so much better, however good his principles are, when he's had schooling. Take now — why don't you go to school, Brocketts?" "Me !" Brocketts gasped. "How can I ?" "Night school, I mean." "Oh! But I didn't know there was a night school here. Is there one?" "Yes, and a good one, too — run by John Morley, a young Southerner. I'm told it's one of the best in the country." "I'll go!" Brocketts exclaimed. And he left the store abruptly, leaving Mr. Dargan in doubt as to whether the boy meant that he would go to school or merely to his home. (to be continued)