--- 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: 9 published: 1912-07 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'John Henry Evans, "The Open Road: Stages VII and VIII," *Improvement Era* 15, no. 9 (July 1912): 790–799.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1509unse 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: improvementera1509unse start_page: 790 end_page: 799 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1912-07) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera1509unse 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 VII and VIII The Open Road BY JOHN HENRY EVANS, OF THE LATTER-DAY SAINTS UNIVERSITY Stage VII — Brocketts Studies How to be Promoted, and at the Same Time Opens an Information and a Bank Account. That hint of Mr. Dargan's about the night school was like seed flung from the hand of the sower upon a bit of soil in the Nile Valley after the river's rich deposits. Brocketts turned the suggestion over and over in his mind ; it grew, night and day, till it reached such proportions as to run over into action. That is why, a few evenings after his conversation with the book-seller, he found himself on his agitated way to Morley's. A wide stairway opened on the street and ran straight up to the second floor. This Brocketts ascended gingerly. He pushed open a door that had on it the sign "Walk in," and found himself in front of a low desk with the most astonishingly alert countenance he had ever seen looking pleasantly up at him from behind it. "I want to see the teacher," the boy said, with such selfpossession as his astonishment could muster. "That is I," said the person behind the desk. "Morley is my name. What can I do for you?" By all the signs that Tom, the stable-boy, had taught him, this man should be a '"Mormon" of the bloodiest sort. His hair was red, as also were his whiskers, which tapered to a point about three inches from his chin. But these were the only canibalistic tokens about Mr. Morley. Otherwise he was the most genial and affable person you could meet. Great, lustrous eyes shone out from his face, like first-magnitude stars in the night sky. Instantly Brocketts found himself liking the man, and at home in his presence. "I heard there was a night school in the city," the boy said in answer to Mr. Morley's question, "and I thought I'd like to come and see whether I might enter and what the terms are." THE OPEN ROAD 791 "You're a stranger in our city, I judge," Mr. Morley said, ignoring the matter about tuition fees and entrance requirements. "Yes, sir," Brocketts replied, wondering how the schoolman knew. "Where are you working?" "At Mr. Bernstein's — in the grocery department." "And you want to prepare yourself for something higher." "Yes, sir." "Well, this is the place where you can do that. I believe we have a good business college here — one of the best in the country." "What subjects do you teach?" asked Brocketts. "Of course," was the reply, "we give the regular business branches — book-keeping and penmanship, with instruction in all kinds of business transactions. But we give, in addition, courses in commercial law, grammar and rhetoric, and history and civil government. A business man should have more than the mere knowledge of his immediate affairs — all big business men have." Mr. Morley arose, and the two stood together looking over the school. It was a very large room, almost square, filled with desks, high and low. At one end, the west, was a long counter curving half way round and up the north side with a heavy wire screen above it, as at banks. There were between eighty and one hundred young men at work. "I'll show you around if you can spare the time," said Mr. Morley. Brocketts had the time, and so the two moved about the room freely, the teacher explaining everything as they went. "These young men are all working during the day," Mr. Morley said, "and, like yourself, are anxious to fit themselves for business. The ones at these desks in the body of the room are beginners ; they are working on their sales-books and ledgers. Those behind the counters have advanced to the point where they carry on commercial transactions in various trades, just as they would if they were in actual business, only here they are under skilful guidance. Some are in the retail business, some in the wholesale, others are bankers. There are organizations among themselves, There are rival institutions and competitive industries, just as in the actual commercial world." 792 IMPROVEMENT ERA They walked behind the counter into the general warehouse. "Here, you see," explained Mr. Morley, "are all sorts of objects representing actual goods — bags, barrels, bales, and boxes. Students are required to use these in their business transactions." He picked up a double handful of bales. "If a student enters the cotton market he must have a quantity of this ; we do not permit any purchases without them. And so with soap, vinegar, sugar, and a hundred other things." They passed into the bank. "Here's our money — college currency. Every student, when he sets out in business for himself, has so much of this. Then he deals with his fellow students, trying by all legitimate means to increase his wealth. Sometimes the boys go bankrupt, but sometimes they develop an amazing capacity for business." What with the hum of commerce, what with his own imaginings of what this might do for him, and what with the glory thrown over it all by this wonderful school-master's presence, Brocketts was beside himself with joy. And so, when Mr. Morley put to him the question as to when he would join, he said — "Right now !" But when it came to setting down his name on the big book on the desk near the door, he came to his senses. "I — I guess I can't joint tonight, either, come to think about it, Mr. Morley. I haven't any money just now." "Oh, that doesn't matter !" Mr. Morley said cheerfully. "You expect to have some before you die, don't you ?" "Yes, sir," Brocketts answered, smiling. "Well, then, pay me when you can." "How much will it be?" the boy asked. "Seventeen dollars a term. A term is three months. Then, of course, there is the price of the book-keeping books — six dollars." "Do you have to get new books every term?" asked Brocketts. "Oh, no ; they last you till you get through them, which will be a short time or a long time according to your ability to work, and then you don't have to get any more." If ever any one came within the circle of Mr. Morley's influence and was not won over to his way of thinking, the public THE OPEN ROAD 793 never heard of it. And so, the upshot of the conversation between these two was, that Brocketts was given a set of books, a desk, and put to work that very night. That Brocketts made rapid progress in his studies goes without saying. He applied the doctrine of work as expounded by his friend, the book-seller, in a manner which would have astounded that worthy gentleman. Brocketts took his books home and worked on them morning, noon, and night, in addition to the time he spent at the school. In a phenomenally brief time, as school hours go, Brocketts applied for some college currency with which to begin business. Ever since the world has had boys in it, whenever any one of those boys has manifested an inclination to get on, everybody has shown an interest in him and a willingness to help him to get on. It was so, at any rate, with Brocketts. Mr. Morley was quick to see his talents. Whenever he could drop an encouraging word without doing damage — for Mr. Morley was a wise teacher, who saw that the best help usually is self-help — he did so cheerfully. Before Brocketts was half way through his books, Mr. Morley had given him his own place at the door — a responsibility which the young man discharged with tact and intelligence. If a matter of business that came under his jurisdiction in this capacity were trivial, he transacted it himself without bothering his instructor, referring only the important points to him. Latterly he assisted in the instruction of less advanced pupils. This is how it happened that, when the time came for Brocketts to pay his first instalment, Mr. Morley absolutely refused to accept a cent of it for tuition. And then it was that Brocketts opened an account with the bank. Brocketts shone brightest, however, in bartering with his friends at the College. Most of the time he had either all the money or all the goods. Seven times in five weeks he brought business to a stand-still. Nor did he use any illegitimate commercial processes. Everything was on the square — crooked methods would not be allowed there. Nothing like this financial disaster had ever befallen the institution in its history. Most boys' heads would be turned by this avalanche of success. But Brocketts' was not. There are some persons whom it horribly embarrasses if you call attention to their success. Brock- 794 IMPROVEMENT ERA etts was one of these. He hated to be singled out from his companions as a boy who has done something unusual. And so he regarded his school career as something that any one could attain with work. He was fast imbibing Mr. Dargan's notions about the magic results which work may produce, and this was only a demonstration of the idea. Stage VIII — Wherein Brocketts Enters Society and Experiences a Sharp Turn in the Left Side. It was Christmas Eve, and Brocketts was in the ward meeting house. You see, he had recovered bravely from his fear of the dark-skinned people. In fact, this very minute, he was sitting next to one, and one more, a young woman, was just in front of him on another bench. Dudley Brown, who had brought him here, was on the other side of him, pointing out the people he knew and explaining what his friend did not understand. Tonight the old house was jammed to the point almost of suffocation — young people, old people, tall people, short people, big people, little people and people of all shades of complexion and of almost all the nationalities of the earth. Brocketts had never looked upon the like before, and his eyes came near to falling out of their sockets with staring. Everybody — that is, everybody who was grown, or nearly so — was mopping his face exactly as if there had not been ten inches of snow on the ground everywhere, and exactly as if the midsummer sun were burning up the shingles on the roof. For the windows were as tight as a clam shell when you wish to eat and have nothing handy but your fingers to open it with. Then to aggravate matters, two big-bellied stoves, staring tremendously at each other from opposite ends of the room, vied with each other in throwing heat into peoples' faces, and smiled in their spiteful way at all the frantic efforts of the crowd to keep cool. Dudley leaned over to an elderly neighbor in front and whispered, or rather yelled, into his ear, "Would it not be a trifle more comfortable if one of the windows was lowered, just a little, you know !" "What!" yelled back that astounded individual, "open the windows in the winter time?" Clearly, the thing was preposter- THE OPEN ROAD 795 ous ! The windows were all fastened down for fear, it seemed, that some one should try to open them. "Why didn't you," the old gentleman added with infinite sarcasm, looking straight into Dudley's eyes — "why didn't you ask the committee to have the exercises held out in the open air?" His logic was unanswerable, as could be easily seen from the faces of half a dozen persons who had heard the conversation. And so everybody panted away in the heavy atmosphere. Not all of them, however. The children — of whom there was a multitude as numberless, it appeared, as the sands on the seashore or the stars in a night sky— were bent on seeing whether their lungs were in good enough trim to receive dear Old Santa, whom all expected to come any minute through the front door, with his great fur coat, snow-covered, his jolly round face, and his bells. That their vocal organs were in the very best order there could be no doubt in the world. Here, they cried out for Saint Nicholas to make his appearance. There, they clapped their hands with prodigious enthusiasm whenever they espied something of dazzling desirability on the tree. And over yonder, they called out lustily, and with many wavings of the hands, for somebody or other, five benches away, to see this and that. Babies everywhere wailed in there mothers' arms as if the last day were come. Then, as if to increase the merry babel, the older people yelled good naturedly into one another's ears like Dudley and our friend who would have no fresh air. Meanwhile, the deacons shoveled coal into the beaming stoves without hindrance or let. Then a member of the committee got up on the stand and made wild gesticulations for silence. Gradually one here and there, seeing this furious pantomime, lowered his voice to inquire what was up. And as the higher tones died away, the committeeman, forming a trumpet of his hands, announced that the reindeers had at last arrived from somewhere near the north pole, and that Santa Claus was just outside getting ready to come in. Some bells out there presently set up a jingling confirmation. For an instant the babel ceased. Then, as Old Santa Claus made his jolly appearance, the former noise returned in a continuous shout, swelled now by a hundred throats, young and old, which before had seemed quiet. The kindly old gentleman from the Northland, in bewitching hypocrisy, marched down the aisle. 796 IMPROVEMENT ERA curtsying and smiling as he went and ringing his bells, the youngsters near the end of the benches meanwhile tugging away irreverently at his pack, the toys, and his coat. There followed a jolly speech from Santa on the necessity of being good, which nobody paid the slightest heed to, out of sheer joy that at last the tree was to be stripped, the candy and the popcorn and the peanuts were to be distributed by Nicholas and the committee. Then the gay old fellow, in spite of his long journey from nobody knew where, mounted a stepladder, soberly surveyed the audience through the thickening air, and, finally, to the general satisfaction, began to pick off the presents one by one, reading the names on the tags and handing them to members of the committee. Occasionally Old Nicholas, if the present were a musical instrument, would make a funny noise on it as if one who had never seen it before — whereat the people roared tumultuously. As there was an amazing quantity of these noise-producing implements distributed to the crowd, and as all of them came into instant requisition, it grew impossible after a time, for anyone three benches away from the tree to hear the names when they were cried out. And then Santa Claus and the Committee, with others, self-delegated, who were anxious to have everything done with, yelled 'out the names with frantic efforts to be heard. Gradually, therefore, all who had received no presents and expected some pushed their way to the front, crowding the rest to the back, till they could catch a faint sound resembling their names. In this way Dudley and Brocketts found themselves almost under the tree, Dudley had received numerous presents. "It's about your turn now, Brocketts," Dudley said. "Nobody knows me here," Brocketts answered. "I'll bet Santa don't forget you, though !" And he didn't, for just then someone roared out his name. Too modest, though, to make himself known, Brocketts would have let the package be passed up as having no owner there, when Dudley echoed back the name and received the present for his friend. "Open it, and let's see what it is," requested Dudley. He had opened all of his on the spot. And Brocketts did. It contained a large blue and white handkerchief with pretty figures in the corners, and a silk tie. THE OPEN ROAD 797 Brocketts cast a swift glance at Dudley as the author of all this, but that person was inspecting a certain bright object on the tree. Tears welled up in Brocketts' eyes that anybody in this far away land should remember a poor lonely orphan boy. He had hard work to keep from breaking down there and then. Dudley saw this, and so turned away that he might not be known to have seen it. Presently the tree was stripped bare as those leafless ones outside. Not even a shining ornament remained nor a lighted candle. Already, too, people had begun to go home, amid the shouts of childhood, the blare of trumpets, the beating of drums, and the strains of the mouth organ. And now there remained only those who wished to participate in the dance — the youth and maiden and their attendants. Everybody was accordingly crowded to the front while a dozen brooms, borrowed from neighboring houses, swept nutshells, popcorn, and remnants of candy before them to the other end of the room. Then three or four young men whittled wax candles on the clean space. Meantime, the violin began to make its inevitable and impatient preparation. "Partners for a plain quadrille !" shouted the floor manager. And immediately half a hundred people crossed and recrossed the room, taking places finally in squares on the floor. The stoves were still there, but what did that matter? The official deacons had been prevailed upon at last to let the fires die out. Soon the violin with the organ accompaniment set everybody in lively motion in the various changes of "swing your partners," "all promenade," and "first four forward." Then it was that Brocketts first discovered the pain in his left side. You see it was this way. He was sitting on a bench on the north side of the room — a wall flower, Dudley said, because he did not care to dance. Not that he did not know how, mind you, for he had lived nearly a year in Omaha, where also were young men and women who liked to trip the light fantastic toe, he among the rest. But now he was a stranger in a strange place among a strange people. And this was his first entrance into society. Little wonder that he was not forward. Raye Silliman had been sitting near him on the north side. 798 IMPROVEMENT ERA He did not know Raye Silliman from the man in the moon, but he had noticed how well dressed he was and, if envy had been one of Brocketts' weak points, would have envied him. A lithe, graceful figure, the Silliman boy was the best groomed person there, old or young, with a white carnation in his button hole. Brocketts watched him cross the floor on more than one occasion for a partner on the south side of the house, bow gracefully to her — his white carnation went lower than anybody else's flowerless button hole,— and bring her, both chatting merrily, to their place on the floor. Once in particular he observed this. Raye's carnation bowed low to a young girl with a divine face, seated there between two elderly women ; she nodded a laughing response and took his arm ; and the two came and stood close to where Brocketts sat. And once, just once, she shot a swift glance at him from her fine blue eyes, and he couldn't help but return it, for his eyes were resting on her with a steady beaming gaze. He jerked them away to inspect one of the bracketed lamps on the wall, but the light so hurt his eyes that he had to bring them back. Presently the violin struck up, and he could look at her as much as he pleased. It was then that he knew something had happened. Henceforth, for Brocketts, there was only one object in that room, a slight, girlish figure wafted about gracefully, clothed in a pretty blue print, her hair, dark and waiving, falling abundantly to the waist. Everything else became an amiable blur to his eye, and the sounds went back into silence whence they came. The tones of the violin and the organ, the voice of the caller calling out the changes, the noise of the dancers dancing in tune — these all faded into the vision of delight that had transfixed the boy. Twice she surprised his look, whereat it fled like a guilty thing — only to come back again. "Well, old boy, want to dance now?" Dudley was by him with his familiar slap on the back. "Say, Dud," — this from the wary boy who sometimes went a long way about, but never forgot what he wanted — "who is that fat old gentleman dancing in this first set?" "Oh, that's Brother What's-his-name — oh — I'll get it in a minute — Blinkerhof. Don't he seem young — He's past seventyfive." "And who is that young lady that's dancing with him ?" THE OPEN ROAD. 799 "She's his grand-daughter — Sasie Blinkerhof — she's a peach, ain't she." "That well-dressed chap with the flower in his button hole — who's he?" "Raye Silliman — I told you once. He's the only son of a grocery-man. He ought to be working somewhere, but he's too dudish, you know, and he cries when his dad won't give him spending money." "And the girl he's dancing with — you didn't tell me about her, did you?" Brocketts prided himself on his great cunning. A mind-reader himself could not have guessed this refined interest in the fat gentleman and the well-dressed youth, and he had put this last question in such a clever way, he imagined.- "Bessie Ward. She's his best girl— a pretty girl, don't you think!" Think! He knew\ He didn't have to think. Only, "pretty" was not half expressive enough. "She's — " but as Brocketts did not say this aloud I need not do so, either, out of consideration for him. A thousand questions rushed to his lips, but it would not do to ask any of them. If he had only foreseen that Dudley was going to be more sparing with his comments about her than about the uninteresting fat gentleman who would dance, you know, why he would have run such a fire of interrogations concerning even that individual as to take Dudley off his feet ! But he asked questions as to two or three others so that his queries should not end in a climax. They did, however, for he asked — "I wonder if those two girls would dance with me, if you introduce us?" He meant Miss Blinkerhof and Miss Ward. "Sure ! If they don't, then I'll never dance with either of them again." But when he led Bessie on the floor in one of those blessed quadrilles, he was conscious that he had not done so with the grace and ease of that Silliman boy. And he wondered if she had noticed it. His talk, too, must seem tawdry after Raye's easy outflow ! She had laughed gayly then, and now she looked serious. But the ice was broken, as the phrase is, and he could ask her again to dance — which he did. (to be continued)