"I'd die
in an office," Bob used to say, "and the floor of the Stock Exchange is
just the chimney-place to roast my hoe-cake in." So when our college days
were over my able had saddled Bob's youth with the heavy responsibilities
of husbanding and directing his family's slim finances that he took to
business as a swallow to the air. We entered the office of Randolph &
Randolph on the same day, and on its anniversary, a year later, my father
summoned us into his office for a sort of tally-up talk. Neither of us
quite knew what was coming, and we thrilled with pleasure when he said:
"Jim, you and Bob have fairly outdone my expectations. I have had my eye
on both of you and I want you to know that the kind of industry and
business intelligence you have shown here would have won you recognition
in any banking-house on 'the Street.' I want you both in the firm--Jim to
learn his way round so he can step into my shoes; you, Bob, to take one of
the firm's seats on the Stock Exchange."
Bob's face went red and then pale with happiness as he reached for my
father's hand.
"I'm very grateful to you sir, far more so than any words can say, but I
want to talk this proposition of yours over with Jim here first.
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