though many a time he was seen to turn away just long enough to brush the tears from his eyes.
GOVERNOR PINGREE’S LUXURIOUS HOME.
The home life of Governor Pingree was as beautiful as his life in public was successful. His residence, a three-story gray stone house, was a model of quiet elegance and refinement, and there his greatest happiness was found.
The accusation was often made that the people of Michigan did not appreciate the Governor. However, during his last election, he was not a prophet without honor in his own country, for the long-continued climbing up of his majority caused one of the local newspapers to suggest that the State set aside special holidays to satisfy the appetite for voting for Pingree.
V
Determined not to Remain Poor, a Farmer Boy Becomes a Merchant Prince
MARSHALL FIELD, one of the greatest merchants of the United States, and that means of the world, is not readily accessible to interviewers. He probably feels, like most men of real prominence, that his place in the history of his time is established, and he is not seeking for the fame that is certain to attend his name and his business achievements. No more significant story, none more full of stimulus, of encouragement, of brain-inspiring and pulse-thrilling potency has been told in any romance. It is grand in its very simplicity, in its very lack of assumption of special gifts or extraordinary foresight. The Phœnix-like revival from the ashes of ruined Chicago is spoken of by Mr. Field as an incident in the natural and to be expected in the order of events. In Marshall Field it was no doubt natural and to be expected, and it touches the very keynote of the character of the celebrated western merchant, sprung from rugged eastern soil, whose career is an example to be studied with profit by every farmer boy, by every office boy, by every clerk and artisan—yes, and by every middle-aged business man, whether going along smoothly or confronted by apparently ruinous circumstances, throughout our broad land.
I was introduced to Mr. Field in the private office of Mr. Harry G. Selfridge, his most trusted lieutenant, and this first of interviews with the head of Chicago’s greatest mercantile house followed.
“My object,” I said to Mr. Field, “is to obtain your opinion as to what makes for and constitutes success in life.”
“That can be quickly given,” said Mr. Field; “what would you like to know?”
“I wish to know something of your early life, and under what conditions you began it.”
“I was born in Conway, Massachusetts, in 1835. My father’s farm was among the rocks and hills of that section, and not very fertile.”
“And the conditions were?”
“Hard.”
“You mean that you were poor?”
“Yes, as all people were in those days, more or less. My father was a farmer. I was brought up under farming conditions, such as they were at that time.”
HIS PARENTS HELPED HIM.
“Did the character and condition of your parents tend in any way to form your ambition for commercial distinction?”
“Yes, somewhat. My father was a man who, I consider, had good judgment. He made a success out of the farming business. My mother was more intellectually bent, if anything, and, naturally, both my parents were anxious that their boys should amount to something in life. Their interest and care helped me.”
“Had you early access to books?”
“No; I had but few books, scarcely any to speak of. There was not much time for literature. Such books as we had, though, I made use of.”
“Were you so placed that your commercial instincts could be nourished by contact with that side of life?” I asked.
“Yes, in a measure. Not any more so than any other boy raised in that neighborhood. I had a leaning toward business, and took up with it as early as possible.”
“Were you naturally of a saving disposition?”
“Oh, yes. I had to be. Those were saving times. A dollar looked very big to us boys in those days, and as we had difficult labor earning it, it was not quickly spent. I may say I was naturally saving, however, and was determined not to remain poor.”
“Did you attend both school and college?”
“Only the common and high schools at home, but not for long. I had no college training. Indeed, I cannot say that I had much of any public school education. I left home when I was seventeen years of age, and, of course, had not time to study closely.”
“What was the nature of your first venture in trade, Mr. Field?”
“My first venture was made as a clerk in a country store at Pittsfield, Massachusetts, where all things were sold, including dry goods, and there I remained for four years. There I picked up my first knowledge of that business.”
“Do you consider those years well spent?”
“I think my employer did, anyway.” He laughed.
“I saved my earnings and attended strictly to business, and so made them valuable years to me.”
“Was there no inducement to remain there as you were?”
“Yes; before I went west, my employer offered me a quarter interest in his business if I would remain with him. Even after I had been here several years, he wrote and offered me a third interest if I would go back. But I was already too well placed.”
“Did you fancy that you were destined for some other field than that in which you have since distinguished yourself?”
ALWAYS INTERESTED IN COMMERCE.
“No, I think not. I was always interested in the commercial side of life, and always thought I would be a merchant. To this end, I bent my energies, and soon realized that, successful or not, my labor would always be of a commercial nature.”
“When did you come to Chicago?” I inquired.
“I caught what was then the prevalent fever to come west, and grow up with the country, and west I came. I entered as a clerk in the dry goods house of Cooley, Woodsworth & Co., in South Water street.”
“Did you foresee Chicago’s growth in any way?”
“No,
