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About The Sunday Oregonian. (Portland, Ore.) 1881-current | View Entire Issue (April 26, 1914)
T THE StXDAT OREGOXIAN, PORTLAND, APRIL 26, 1914. DEBUT AS jmCTOJ? 0J?MAmSAm&4.O4I)S Fan at rnjTTA7- r ri j sh -771 t n jrfjL i WILLIAM AVERELL HARRIMAN, elder son of the master railroad builder, keeps his mouth shut and saws wood hard. These two quali ties stand out as dominating character istics of the young- man who Is mak ing his debut in the world of finance. He is the probable inheritor with his young- brother and three sisters of $75, 000,000 or more. Whatever success he achieves is likely to be along lines based on persevering work. He is in his 23d year, not quite a year out of college and having had hardly a chance to catch his' breath in the world of big business he entered before graduation from Tale as a di rector of a, bank and a great railroad system. He hasn't even had time to realize that he is the object of politely restrained curiosity in the financial community; that people are already prepared to make comparisons between him and his father. Young Harriman entered financial life in the middle of his senior year at Tale when he was elected a director of the Union Pacific, February 6, 1913, to succeed Henry W. De Forest. A month later he became a director of the Harriman National Bank. After he was graduated the Illinois Central voted him on its board. In these di rectorships and in the management of the Harriman estate, as the chief lieu tenant of his mother, the sole executor, he is now receiving his practical busi ness training. Averell Harriman's bow to the finan cial world was an extremely modest one. The Union Pacific directors were to hold one of tne long meetings of last year, trying to undo at the Govern ment's behest what the elder Harriman had put together. One after another the directors, in cluding men of advanced years and conservative trend, railroad operating men and some of the younger leaders in the banking community, walked in through the little anteroom on the 25th floor of 165 Broadway. Then there came a tall young man. His 6 feet 2 inches of height was even exaggerated by the slight stoop of his shoulders. He was of slim build, but with the undoubted poise of athletic training. His physique was not the type of agile, lithe, snapping quickness that makes star quarterbacks. It had speed, but more of careful dependa bility. His complexion was dark. His eyes were a deep coal black. His hair was black. ' His lips were prominent. His face was serious and he did not smile. Neither, however, did he appear nerv ous or worried. He was not concerned with the 20 or 30 newspaper men who looked him over as they had eyed each of the directors who had preceded him. He appeared intent on his own thoughts, studiously concerned with the business he was about. He had- the clean-shaven face and distinctive clear cut lines of the Eastern college man "A new young collegiate assistant to some officer." was the summary of the newspaper men. He laid on the desk of the door at tendant two rather ponderous and fa miliar looking college textbooks. Then he passed inside the inner office. "It's young Averell Harriman." the man who knew said as he disappeared. Thereupon his two college textbooks lying on the table became objects of importance. It was easy to see at long TAKING, IT OUT (DF VOUNG Will Drake, a new and struggling "commercial ambassa dor." was etranded in Chicago painfully stranded. As a traveler for an Eastern business house, he may be said to have made a trip of some bril liancy, from the viewpoint of mere traveling, as attested by his expense account and requisitions; but as a salesman and the house laid extraordi nary stress upon that element of the pilgrimage he added little or nothing to the archives of his honorable pro fession, not to mention the coffers of his house. . Business firms can be very cold and unfeeling, and Mr. Drake came very near losing his childlike trust in hu man nature when the firm replied to his last demand for funds with a curt, scarcely polite letter, to the effect that they had concluded to equip no more expeditions to explore the Middle West, that section being already fairly well mapped. They suggested to him a broader field in the Antarctic regions, mentioning that in said quarter he would be free and unhampered by the commercial amenities that had appar ently appealed to him so little. Drake affected to appreciate the humor of their letter when he replied, and reminded them that they had over looked the slight matter of advancing the necessary funds for his return to civilization. He felt sure, he said, that he could make satisfactory explanation of his apparent lack of success on see ing his principals personally at the home office. The reply to this communication was even more curt than the preceding out rage; the firm suggested that men of Drake's .caliber and attainments were wasted in the East, and they wished to have no part in withdrawing him from the vast West, where the openings and possibilities were so limitless. Will Drake had made many friends to use the term as a generality but beyond smoking his cigars and laugh ing at his stories, they could be relied upon for very little practical support. He told his tale of woe, and got real sympathy, which is a commodity not altogether to be despised in a cynical world. One man even found much humor in the icorrespondence. and endeavored to point it out to Will, but the latter was on the. verge of losing his sense of fun. Ho sent a number of carefully-word-d appeals for aid to relatives ln:h distance that they were a James' "Psy chology" and a Taussig's "Elementary Economics." And their owner was in side helping to decide what should be done with about $126,000,000 and a railroad system the Union Pacific had to dispose of, or at least trying to un derstand what the rest of the directors who had been over this same thing many weary times were talking about. It was seven months later, Averell Harriman, railroad director, had dropped out of sight of Wall street, while Bill Harriman, head coach of the Tale crew, had been very much in the public gaze as the sponsor for a new English stroke that had Its tryout at New London in June. The Union Pa cific directors were again holding al most daily meetings. Dissolution had been accomplished. What to do with the proceeds of selling $126,000,000 stock was getting horribly bothersome. Wall street kept spelling "melon" for Itself. And when one day Averell Harriman was again seen making his unassum ing way Into a directors' meeting It was the easiest thing in the world for rumor to glean a little sunshine out of darkness by having him cut the melon. Romance Is gone from Wall street in these prosaic times of regulation and public service commissions. But here was a touch of It, real or make believe. Toung man, inheritor of millions, he alone deciding the disposition of a large sum, while wise elder statesmen of finance looked on in awe and wonder the picture was striking anyhow. In the morning and for a week after to the end of September Averell Harri man, Just out of college, and lately pic tured on a Tale barge shouting orders to the crew through a megaphone, was Been In the newspaper busily cutting melons of from $140,000,000 to $200,000, 000 all over the country. It was highly interesting, if true. But the next day Averell Harriman assured callers It wasn't true. He made good at Yale on his merits. Practically everybody liked him for his Intense earnestness and sincerity, for his capacity for solid friendship. He threw his whole capacity for hard work Into lines that Tale tradition has marked as leading to the best things that go to make up the spirit of the university. If a man is to catch the spirit of Tale he knows on the first day he enters that Tale expects him to do the difficult thing. There is the lotus path through Tale that is charm ingly easy, especially when one has millions. But the big men of Tale have to fight their way to a place of honor. Toung Harriman looks for the hard thing to do. So naturally he chose the road to the most solid sort of Tale glory, the kind that comes through struggle. He ca,me from Groton, fa mous as sending Tale more of its "big men" ' than any other school. Harri man' schooled himself not to let his wealth Interfere with Tale's best tra dition, democracy. He was consistently what they like in the colleges to call . democratic had no car until the spring of his senior year, and refrained from eating at the' Taft with the unbroken regularity of other wealthy men of hia class a thing significant, for 1913, his class, the wealthiest ever known at Tale, set up such a reign of extrava gance at the Taft that the faculty had to issue an order against it. In his senior year he roomed in Connecticut Hall, the most ancient of Tale's dormi East (hereby showing his inexperience in a strong light) and he received. In return, several letters of ears counsel. A faithful perusal of them and a care ful following of their precepts might have made, in time, a captain of indus try, but he hardly more than glanced at them, and threw them in the waste paper basket with snorts of disgust un worthy of a dutiful nephew, cousin, etc. Drake mentioned, very diplomatically, the matter of a loan to the sociable hotel clerk, but regretted It, for the clerk seemed to become almost discour teous, and notified him curtly that all accounts with the hotel had to be set tled on Saturdays. After this unpleasant incident. Will walked away from the desk, and tried to assume an air of easy nonchalance as he strolled about the lobby. He even purchased a new supply of cigars and proceeded to smoke with some magnifi cence. More letters came from the East, and one of them afforded a pleasant change from the general tone; an old friend of the family (not a relative, mind you) seemed still to feel confidence in him, and offered him a clerical position at a salary quite above the nominal class. Drake was moved almost to the point of showing the letter to the head clerk, but he disliked the latter"s accusing glances, and forebore the little act of confidence. A porter of many buttons strode into the lobby, carrying a fat kitbag, hat box and other emblems of luxury. He was followed by one Augustus Benton, stout, stalwart and palpably opulent. Will Drake knew him well, and hailed him Joyously as a deliverer. Mr. Benton took a suite, and invited his old friend, young Mr. Drake, to call on him and smoke and talk. This Will did without delay, and took the occa sion to pour into the ear of wealth his tale of Injustice and misfortune. Mr. Benton, not having lived without similar experiences, listened with cor dial sympathy, but he told the young man that while he was reputed wealthy, he really carried a very small surplus of cash usually just enough for cur rent expenses and did not like to withdraw any large amounts from his brokers at a time when business exi gencies were so precarious. Will apologized quite abjectly for an noying a man of great affairs with his importunities, but desperately added that a mere matter of $50 would relieve his necessity, and start him on the road tories, instead of the luxurious Vander bllt or a private suite. Walter Camp, Jr., and Charles Henry Marshall, Jr., who Is now In the office of J. P.' Mor gan & Co.. were his roommates. With the advantage of Groton crew training he went in for crew work, rowed on the freshman eight up to Spring, but gave it up in deference to his mother's wishes because of his light build. Toung Harriman is a student and set up for himself the goal of & Phi Beta Kappa key. He and his two roommates started senior year in a pact to get the keys. The three did not get the keys, to the general regret of the college, which had watched the race. But the story is told that young Harriman came as close to the 3.50 necessary on a basis of 4 as 3.49, and the story is ac cepted. As It was, he was graduated in the First Disputes, the fifth honor group of the eight Tale groups. His original experiments in a class in elementary psychology amused his fellow students. The instructor wanted to know who used a "number system" a system of visualizing numbers on a field. Harriman raised his hand. He had adopted one early In life, he said. "Does it stop as with most people at 100?" asked the Instructor. The class had visions of the Harriman millions. "Oh! no," said young Harriman with great earnestness. "I can easily count to amillion with it and I dare say if necessary beyond that." The class roared. He was of the first 20 men to "go" Psi Upsilon and the first to "go" Skull and Bones. He tapped Henry Ketch am, last year's football captain, the last man for Bones, and it is generally un derstood tnat this Is the mark of the head of that clan. Crew coaching was Harriman's big Job the biggest thing he has done in or out of college so far. He was the first undergraduate at Tale ever trust ed to coach its crews. How he came to be trusted with the job is a story of a number of elements. But primarily he won the confidence of the university by his personality. His habit of making a thorough study of a thing set him first on his way to the Job. He had visited Eng land In the Winter of his Junior year and had been impressed with the Eng lish stroke. The freshman crew he coached in 1912 was the best of the Tale lot at New London. He went to England again. Tale rowing, like all Tale athletics, was at a low ebb. Tale's old stroke had failed. The English stroke had proved itself worthy of a try. The rowing men did not know what to do. The graduate committee was composed en tirely of Bones men, though T.ale men believe that this had little to do with Harriman's selection. The Fall work with the English stroke was satisfac tory. Harriman spent most of the Winter getting Harcourt Gould, the English oar, to come over, and under the two the Spring trials bred supreme confidence inthe college. Harriman's entrance to the Union Pacific board added to the impression that he had made at Tale in crew work. After he had attended his first directors' meeting in New Tork Tale undergraduates would open their eyes as who should say "Isn't he a wonder! Direct a railroad in the morning and coach a crew in the afternoon!" After the races and their disastrous to possible fortune. Mr. Benton sud denly discovered, to his really amused surprise, that he had actually not mors results this storm broke in the Fall on the opening of college. The English stroke must go and It did go. The first Indignation was against Harri man. He stood fire well. The inten sity of the feeling brought In a very short time a strong reaction In his favor. Toung Harriman's programme now is varied. He has had since December a desk In the chairman's office of the Union Pacific, where he studies the system, though not as an employe. He spends part of his time at the office of the Harriman estate. He makes fre quent trips over the lines of the Union Pacific and the Illinois Central. He studied the Union Pacific at close range, spending several weeks last No vember in the Omaha offices and shops. He chose a Summer as a chalnman on the Oregon Short Line when 18, fired an engine and acted as freight clerk. In preference to a European trip with his father. He is in many respects unlike his father. E. H. Harriman. it is under stood, picked his younger son, Roland, now a freshman at Tale, as more like him In appearance and spirit. Averell Harriman Is tall; his father was short. E. H. Harriman was quick moving, ful of restless energy. Averell Harri man is deliberate in movement, thought and action. His father had eyes that bored through people. Averell Harri man's eyes are deep black but not glit tering nor boring. Toung Harriman has some tastes like his father's. He Is fond of the dairy and farm work from -which E. H. Har riman got much recreation. He is a director of the Arden Farms Dairy Company, which his father made fa mous. He likes good horses, another recreation of E. H. Harriman. whose famous trotter, John R. Gentry, was his delight. Toung Harriman is much interested as a director of and worker in the Boys' Club founded by his father. Cotton Herod of the Fields. (The Survey.) We have long assailed (and justly) the cotton Industry as the Herod of the mills. The sunshine in the cotton fields has blinded our eyes to the fact that the cotton picker suffers quite as much as the mill-nand from monotony, overwork and the hopelessness of his life. It Is high time for us to face the truth and add to our Indictment of King Cotton, a new charge the Herod of the fields. Why? What is It that Is actually happening to these children? Come out with me at "sun-up" and see them trooping into the fields with their par. ents and neighbors. Watch them picking through all the length of a hot Summer day, and the mere sight of their monotonous repe tition of a simple task will tire you out "long before they stop. Millie, aged 4. was picking eight pounds a day when I saw her, and Mellie, her sister, 6 years old, 80 pounds a day. Ruby, a 7-year-old girl on an other farm, stopped picking long enough to say, as I stood by her, "I works from sun-up to sun-down, an' picks 35 pounds a day." Think how many light and feathery bolls little hands must pick to turn the scale at 35 pounds. The result of a few yearn of this In cessant grind, long hours, physical strain, lack of proper food and care, and lack of mental stimulus? What can It be but physical degeneration and mental atrophy, the human being de- than $30 In currency about him at the time. Will added further apologies, and ar 1 e- L1. . -" graded Into a machine and a poor ma- aKainst childhood are not physically spirit are not always reflected in the chine at that? Inevitably there is evident until later jVrs. The dreary physique of the child who is just open weakening or utter absence of moral stretch of deadening oil and the road ing the door into the world of over fiber. Many of the worst crimes ahead; the stunted njnd and shriveled work. fected an air of friendly sociality to show his old friend that a mere matter of money could not enter Into their friendship to any disastrous degree. They dined together and after dinner the easy-mannered Benton so far for got their financial conversation as to call at the desk and cash a check for $100. that he might not be without cash in his travels about the city. The hotel cashier respectfully counted out five crackling twenties, and Will Drake eyed them hungrily as their owner crammed them into a pocket, even as a drowning man might look at a boat passing near him, paddled by unre sponsible pleasure seekers. Still the young man harbored no re sentment, but made an effort to show some affection for the old friend of his family. For a while they smoked and walked together, and Will boyishly threw his arm over the shoulders of the older man, and slapped him fre quently upon the back, as they talked of home and old times. Benton decided, rather late, to take In a theater. Drake was in no mood for it, or for accepting further hospitality from the man, so they said good night, and Benton went to his room to put on a dinner coat. Having arrayed himself In suitable finery, the pleasure seeker transferred his watch and small articles of Jewelry from his traveling clothes. From his breast pocket he took his wallet and glanced into it. There were a few small bills. He thought of the $100, recently acquired. Ah, yes, he had stuffed It into his waistcoat pocket. He took up the waistcoat and went through the pockets, finding nothing but a handful of matches, a pencil, nail file, etc He stared out of the window at the lighted building opposite and considered. Quickly he went over in his mind the little affair of cashing the check and putting the currency in his pocket. Then he thought with a sick ening suspicion of the walk with his young friend, the latter's fraternal em braces -and pats on the back. "Great heavens!" he exclaimed in horror, ''that's the worst that's hap pened yet; that boy's a common, low pickpocket." He paced the room agitatedly, think ing of Drake's desperate financial straits. "Perhaps he was really driven to crime by his distress." he declared, with sudden burst or charitable Impulse, can't have him pinched; I haven't V WILLIAK averell harriman. JS& the heart to do it. tJit, by gad! ha's a common thief! I wo't stand for be ing robbed like that. I He's got to be punished." He sought Mr. DrakS In the lobby, in the billiard-room and about the mazes of the great hostelry. Finally he located him, by telephone, in "his room, where the young man had gone for rest and reflection. "Come in," said Drake In response to a knock. The door swung open and a red faced, scowling Mr. Benton entered. "Give me that money, you dirty little hound!" he cried ferociously. "What do you mean?" said Will, turn ing pale. "Now, that won't go at all!" shouted Benton. "I want that hundred right away, and I'm going to get it!" "You get out oi I'll' have you put out!" cried Drake in angry astonish ment. "You're crazy, Benton. 1 don't know anything about any hundred. Tou can't come in here and insult me like this!" "My heaven!" roared the larger man, "you're a black liar as well as a thief! But I'll have satisfaction! Keep the money, you blackguard, for all the good it'll do you! But I'll have the worth of it out of you!" And without further loss of time he advanced upon his erstwhile friend, and planted heavy blows in rapid succession upon his face and other available por tions of his anatomy. The younger man resisted stoutly and labored to de fend himself, but he was of inferior stature, and his knowledge of fisticuffs was worse than limited. In a couple of minutes after the open ing of hostilities the conqueror declared himself satisfied. He stood back, pant ing with excitement and exertion, and surveyed the results of hia handiwork. Will Drake looked much as though he had been put through a threshing machine. His eyes and nose were bruised and bleeding, his clothes and linen were sadly awry, and he had sunk limply upon the floor with all the breath driven from hi3 lungs. "Sucss that'll hold you for a while." wheezed Mr. Benson. "I don't know but it's worth a cool hundred at that." And ho closed the door and went to his own room. "Never mind the theater tonight." ha mused, as he viewed himself i -. the mir. ror and carefully arranged his own V slightly disordered attire. "I'll sit quiet for a while and smoke a bit." His cigarette case was not in his pocket. "Wonder if he took that, too?" he thought; "it's silver." He searched about the room and finally took up the traveling clothes he had recently laid off. In the hip pocket' of the trousers was the silver cigarette box. Also, there seemed to be some thing else something which crackled to the touch. "Heaven have mercy on me!" ha frroaned, and dropped weakly into a chair. Will Drake was washing his dis colored and grievously altered face when a bellboy came to his door and handed him a letter on a tray. He opened it, and read the following as tounding communication: "My Dear Sir: "I am far too upset to think of seeing you personally. 1 have no excuse to of fer for this evening's dastardly out rage but my own shameful carelessness and ungovernable temper. I shall plead guilty cheerfully to any charge you may bring against me, and I shall of fer no opposition to any civil suit you may choose to institute. For the time being, however, I beg that you will con descend to accept the enclosed check for $500, in partial reparation for the injuries you have suffered at my brutal hands. Yours very humbly. Augustus Benton." Mr. Benton, in turn, later in the evening, received this: "Dear Mr. Beuton: "Was surprised to receive the $500 after the events of the evening, but 1 assure you-that, as a gentleman, I have no thoughts of seeking satisfaction from you by means of the process of the law. I think the matter has gone far enough as it is. and we may con sider It closed. "The matter of the enclosure of $500 must be considered. I assure you I could never accept it as a gift or a peace offering, and my first impulse is to destroy the check; but I will wait to give it calm consideration tomorrow, and I may decide, partly through neces sity, and partly through consideration cf your feelings, to accept it as a tem porary loan to be returned to you at my n convenience. ; "1 am, tr, without' malice. Truly 'yours. William T. Drake." (Copyright, the Frank A. Mutuj Company.