outlined against the sky-line, Lumb gazed longingly with an additional thrill, for he was an admirer of horses. As he gazed, the word "Cavalry" burst into his mind, and in quick succession there followed: "Why not join the cavalry?"—and then the wide-awake decision: "The cavalry for me! I'll join to-morrow.”

Thus the unknown horseman, with his splendid mount, unconsciously, out of the stillness of the night, had determined the destiny of a waif. Accepted as a Cavalryman

TH

HE following day, Lumb used fifteen cents for a meager breakfast, and invested three cents in a paper collar. Next, he asked a bootblack for permission to use his outfit; and when the bootblack learned that Lumb was going to be a soldier, he readily gave his consent. Thus, with polished shoes, a fresh collar, a "near breakfast," a smile on his face, and a new hope in his heart, Lumb found a recruiting station and offered himself as a cavalryman. He was accepted at once. At noon, he took dinner with the new recruits. He says he will remember that dinner as long as he lives. It begun with cantaloupe and ended with rice pudding.

Thus Lumb began a career under the Stars and Stripes which lasted for twelve years and took him through the campaigns in the Philippines, and the invasion of China to quell the Boxer uprising. He served in the cavalry, infantry and artillery; fought through twenty-seven battles and skirmishes and escaped unscathed.

Another big moment came in Lumb's life while he was stationed in Manila after the return from Pekin. He was sitting in the cockpit, which served as quarters, talking seriously with his "bunkie" about the future and when the regiment might expect to go home. His bunkie asked this pertinent question: "If you were in the United States now, and had your discharge in your pocket, what would you rather be than a soldier?"

After musing for a moment, Lumb carefully framed his reply: "I'd like to be a lawyer-not a crook or a shyster-but a clean-cut lawyer who puts service above profits. And I would like to have a home with a little piece of ground, a good wife, and a kiddie or two."

His bunkie laughed, but Lumb did not. The moment he had put the idea into words it became a vision, and he kept that vision before him until it materialized.

During his army life, Lumb persisted in his efforts to make up for his lack of education by private study. When he received an order from an officer he would make a comparison, asking himself, "What has he got on me?" And

the answer was always, "Education." That system of self-testing invariably spurred him forward in his studies.

While in the artillery he was stationed at Fort McHenry, Texas. Realizing that advancement depended on a knowledge of mathematics, he bought a used arithemitic for fifteen cents, and set out to master the science of numbers. Ere long, he took the required examination for a first-class gunner and passed. Some time after this, a general army-order was issued requiring that the ten most illiterate men in each company should attend school, the teachers to be chosen from among the soldiers. This was something of a task, for many of the men could barely write their names. Following this order, SecondLieutenant Marlborough Churchill informed Lumb that he had been chosen company teacher.

“Why, I am not fit to be a teacher,” replied Lumb. "I ought to go to school myself." "Never mind about that," said the officer. "I am the one to judge of your fitness. You are to do the teaching."

I'

In the Pennsylvania State Police

'T was an order. All that Lumb could do was to obey. His class consisted of forty men. He taught them by keeping one lesson ahead, which he studied the night before. After he had been teaching for a few weeks, he made this announcement:

"An examination for first-class gunner is to be held in a few weeks, and if you fellows will follow me through, I will fit you for that examination."

Out of the forty soldier-pupils, twenty-seven passed the examination, and became first-class gunners.

Lieutenant Churchill, who picked Lumb as teacher, is now Brigadier-General Churchill, and was head of the Military Intelligence Bureau during the World War. His duty was to protect the army from spies and maintain military efficiency.

After his discharge from the army, Lumb enlisted in the newly created State police of Pennsylvania, and gradually rose until he became commander of the entire force. It was while he was deputy superintendent that he took up the study of law and achieved what many people declared impossible.

When Lumb spoke to one of his closer friends about studying for the bar, his friend looked at him in great surprise and exclaimed:

"You could never make it. You haven't the preliminary schooling necessary to pass the entrance examinations. Why, you are going to attempt something that has floored Harvard

graduates. You will butt your head against a wall and not get anywhere."

"Just the same, I am going to tackle it," Lumb replied decisively.

He then obtained a circular from the State Board of Law Examiners, and made a survey of the mental climb he was about to undertake.

"After I had gone over that outline of study," he explained, "I was almost stunned by the enormity of the task. I paced my room and asked myself again and again: 'Can I do it?' At length, I decided that

I could make it by a
supreme effort of concen-
tration. I was confident
that I had the capacity,
and that all I needed was
time and application."

He Determined to Get
Knowledge

T

comes dawn

THEY

rags;

WHEN

see

In the absence of a college training, Lumb was required to take a special course that covered two years, in order to prepare for the entrance examinations. After that, came the study of law for three years.

Lumb tightened his mental belt, and set to work. He figured that by putting in his evenings and other spare time, he could get ready for the preliminary examinations within a year. What he really proposed to do, although he did not realize it at that time, was to "cram" into his head in one year the education that ordinarily consists of a full course in grammar school, high school and college-ten or fifteen years in all, allowing credit for his two years in school and his experience as an army teacher.

any interruption or annoyance. She cheerfully gave up social engagements and everything else that might affect her husband's concentration on his supreme purpose. Clubs, theaters, moving pictures, dinner parties— all that make up so much of the joy of living-were rigidly excluded during the time that Lumb was engaged in his studies.

His Learning Like
Loose Bricks

W

HILE his friends admired his ambition and his native ability, it was the general feeling among them that he could never overcome his educational handicap, and some of them frankly told him so. Lumb only smiled grimly and continued studying.

One close friend asked: "Why do you want to be a lawyer? You have a

good job. Isn't that enough?" "Yes, but the job may not last. I want to be independent."

At the end of the year, he laid away his books and went to Philadelphia for his examinations. And when it was all over, he received a short note from the board of examiners regretting that he had failed to pass. It was a flat turndown. His friends were right, after all. He could not overcome his handicap. So he thought for a moment.

But no, he would try again. He knew that he had made some progress, so he resolved to find out just why he had failed. At the first opportunity, he had a talk with the head examiner.

“I ‘flunked' on my preliminary examination," said Lumb, "and now I wish you would tell me what my trouble is. I have worked hard, and I know what there is in the books."

The examiner was a kindly man, but he was firm in upholding the requirements of the examining board.

"Your replies," he said, "indicate that you have a knowledge of the subjects, but your knowledge is like a lot of bricks thrown in a heap. Until bricks have been built into a wall, they are of little use. So it is with knowledge. Until knowledge has been developed into an orderly system, it is not of very much value. Of all men, a lawyer should have his knowledge organized so it will be instantly available. That is your trouble. You have not organized yourself. What you have done is to accumulate a lot of disconnected facts which lie in your mind without much of an idea on your part as to their relationship. The effective organizing of knowledge is one of the chief objects of higher education, and, because of your lack in schooling, I fear you can never pass this examination. think you are wasting time to try."

I

"Thank you for your advice," responded Lumb with new hope; "but I want to say that I am coming back each time until I pass, if it takes me until I am sixty."

About this time, his eyes threatened to fail him. Again he paced the floor of his officenow with agony in his heart. Would he go blind? Would he fail after all? He eased off a little in his studies, and his eyes became better. He consulted an oculist who fitted him with glasses that fully restored his sight.

The following summer, Lumb made another try at the examinations. It was a hot day and he was in a close room with other students, all intent on their work. This time he was almost overcome. He felt himself about to collapse, and with his remaining strength he managed to reach the water-cooler. Under pretense of getting a drink he bathed his wrists and temples with ice water, regained his strength in part, and returned to his papers. This time he passed the examinations, with the conditions that he bring up algebra and Latin.

He felt that he could manage algebra by himself, but Latin was too much for him.

He engaged a Latin teacher connected with the Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, schools, to tutor him in Latin at seventy-five cents an hour.

"I want you to help me learn the parts of speech," he explained. "I can translate from Latin into English and back again, but not according to the rules.”

At first, the lesson lasted only an hour, but, after that, the teacher became so interested that she kept him after hours to give him a little more instruction. In six lessons, Lumb learned what he wanted and felt qualified for another tussle with the examiners.

This time he took the examinations in De cember to avoid the extreme heat of midsummer. After writing out his answers, he returned to his home in Harrisburg, but before he received the decision from the board, his health broke and he was taken to the hospital for an operation for appendicitis.

One day while on his cot in the hospital, convalescing as rapidly as possible, his wife visited him a long envelope in her hand and a happy smile on her face:

"How do you do, Mr. Lawyer," she exclaimed. "You have passed. Here is your letter from the examiners."

Sure enough, there it was. He had won the first and hardest part of the battle. He at once began reading law and progressed without any further hindrance. At the end of the prescribed three years, he took the final examinations, passed, and was admitted to practice in the supreme court, which also gives him the right to practice in any court in the State.

In addition to law, Lumb studied public speaking and became a convincing and entertaining public speaker. Then he took up the study of shorthand.

By this time, he had become superintendent of the Pennsylvania State Police, an organization that patrols the highways of the State to maintain law and order.

Early in 1920, he resigned this position so he could devote all of his time to the practice of law. When he made this plunge, he let go a salary of $6,000 a year to face an uncertainty, with a mortgage on his home. To make this change was the supreme test of his courage. To give up a sure thing for a chance at something else, is where many men fail to win the big prize. Lumb expected to have a hard time of it for two years, at least, while he was building up a paying practice.

But how has it worked out! Before his first year was up he had paid off his mortgage, and been engaged, with annual retainers, by the claims department of the Harrisburg Railways and three other of the largest corporations in the city.

In commenting on what he has been able to do, Mr. Lumb remarked:

"My faith is stronger than ever in the eternal principle that you get what you deserve and deserve what you get."

(Continued on page 132)

T

HERE is nothing that can take the place in your life of your home. If that is not a success, your business or professional success will mean comparatively little to you.

Unfortunately, the great majority of homes are not successful. Instead of getting one hundred per cent of the possibilities of the home and what it should stand for, most of us drop way below fifty per cent.

Did you ever realize, my friend, that it is the little things that make or spoil the home? If you will just stop for a minute and think of what upsets the peace and creates friction in the majority of homes, and what, on the other hand, makes for harmony, for efficiency and happiness in every successful home, you will find that in each case it is the seemingly little things.

You will find that it is the little thoughtful attentions, the little expressions

of love and affection, the little intimacies, the spirit of comradeship, the little compliments, the words of praise and appreciation, the little deeds of service,

the kindly little acts of every day that make the ideal home.

ON

N the other hand, you will find that it is the little dissensions, the little scrapping and faultfinding, the little flings and rudenesses, the twitting one another, the domineering, bossing attitude, the constant bickering, scolding, nagging, especially of the husband, the little disputes over money matters, the little unkindnesses of every day, which cut down its efficiency fifty or seventy-five per cent.

It is a strange thing that a man will dream for years of his ideal of a paradise on earth-his home -and then when, after tremendous effort, he gets it will begin to knock it all to pieces, to ruin its possibilities by trifling things which in a short time destroy the harmony and sweetness of the home.

The majority of men pretty nearly wreck their home possibilities by their bossing, domineering, overbearing, scolding,

nagging, faultfinding methods. Multitudes of men make mountains out of things in the home that would be only trifles in their business. Most men do not seem to feel the same obligation to be courteous and agreeable in their homes that they do in their places of business, in their clubs, or when they are visiting in other people's homes. They seem to think that because they pay the bills they have a special license to be disagreeable in their homes, to boss everybody; that they have a right to express their grouches, their peevishness and irritation, their selfishness, all their brutal moods, just as they feel like it. In other words, they do not exercise the same restraint in the home, or put the same curb on their tongues and tempers, that they are obliged to do outside. This is one of the reasons why the home is in so many cases a failure.

HE average man does not realize how much faultfinding about petty things has to do with marring the happiness of the home life. For instance, an acquaintance of mine, a man who has a beautiful home, a charming wife and fine family of boys and girls, is so distressed because he thinks the children and their mother eat too much of this, too much of that, that he takes very little comfort at his meals. He is always watching and reprimanding them for their extravagance and waste in all sorts of ways. He is especially troubled if the children leave any food on their plates--a piece of bread, or meat, a potato or anything else. This he regards as unpardonable waste, and insists that they clean up their plates at every meal. In trying to do this they often eat things they do not want in order to avoid a scolding.

Even when guests are present, this man goes on nagging about some little thing. I have occasionally dined at his home, and he never lost an opportunity to find something wrong with the children of his wife at the table. He reprimanded the children for their bad manners, or found fault with his wife for some detail of the dinner. In fact, he always manages to find something to complain or scold about, and as a result the meal is never the joyful occasion that it ought to be in every home.

torn or soiled, if the servants make a little mistake, if food is occasionally burned or spoiled, or if a dish is broken, he has a brainstorm over it. He is a great stickler for order and system, and it upsets him to see a newspaper on the floor, a magazine or a book out of place, or an article of clothing lying on a chair or bed. In fact he never enjoys his home or his family because he is always fussing and scolding about some trifle.

N

OW, this man really thinks a great deal of his home, and he cannot understand why he is so disappointed in it, why he gets so little real enjoyment out of it. He is always puzzling to find out why his children do not love him more, why they are not more companionable, why they don't love him as they do their mother. He does not realize that they avoid him because instead of a caress, words of love and appreciation, they always expect to get a scolding every time they hear him enter the home. They not only do not love him, but they actually fear and dread him. They despise his little narrow, bickering, faultfinding ways. He would give thousands of dollars for the peace and comfort and sweetness of a happy home, which he might have but for his nagging, fault finding propensity.

I'

F you want to get the most out of your home, my friend, you must learn not to see too much or hear too much. If a servant drop a dish, or burn food, or make some bad break when you have company, how much better it is to ignore it than to mar the happiness of your family and your guests by calling attention to it and scolding. There are a great many other things that will happen in every home, especially where there are children, which you should never notice. Not because, in their way, they are not important, but because you can't afford to pay the price you would have to pay by indulging in scolding, upbraiding and denouncing. Besides, those little household matters, such as little wastages, breakages, order in the home, etc., belong in your wife's department, not in yours. If you have the right sort of wife she will see to those matters without your interference.

You know that you must have harmony in your business or you cannot work to advantage; you know that if you would get the best results, it is imperative that everything should move smoothly, and still many of you do not have harmony in your homes because you are not willing to forego your natural inclination to run everything, to boss everybody, to have everything your own way to control everybody and make everybody do as you want them to do.

Merely for the sake of having your own way,