with his editorial duties during the evenings. The Brooklyn Magazine was soon earning a comfortable income for its two young propr

pening for one of his sons, who was shortly to be graduated from college. He talked to the publisher and editor about the idea, but the boys

f money was spent on the new magazine, it did not succeed. Mr. Bush sold his interest in the periodical, which, once more changing its name, became The Cosmopolitan Magazine. Since then it has passed through the hands of several owners, but the name has remained the same. Before Mr. Bush sold The American Magazine he had urged Edward to come back to it as its editor, with promise of financial support; but the young man felt instinctively that his return would not be wise. The magazine had been The Cosmopolitan only a short time when th

g the advertising value of editorial comment; but he wondered whether the newspapers would not be willing to pay for the privilege of simultaneous publication. An inquiry or two proved that they would. Thus Edward stumbled upon the "syndicate" plan of furnishing the same article to a group of newspapers, one in each city, for simultaneous publication. He looked over the ground, and found that while his idea was not

ious beginning. They decided to talk it over with the famous preacher. For to be a "Plymouth boy"--that is, to go to the Plymouth Church Sunday-school and to attend church there--was to know personally an

d and his friend broached the syndicate letter to him. "No

, was the argument,

l he knew the youthful enth

our pluck," he finally sai

a weekly sum of two hundred and fifty doll

at it quizzically, and then at the boys. Then he said simply: "Thank you." He took

another check. He pinned that up over the other. "I like to look at them,

the fourth, one morning, as he was pinning it up over the oth

ng out that morning for the four le

" he re

day Mr. Beecher asked: "Well,

l," he wa

ou've got in," he suggested, and t

: "That's very interesting. H

turned them in yet," he explained. "Anyhow, you have enough in bank to

ssured t

d the six checks on his desk, indorsed each, wrote a

at the bank as yo

current notions of the Plymouth pastor's lack of business knowledge. But as the years rolled on the i

ith the Plymouth pastor at work, an organ-grinder and a little girl came under the study window. A cold, driv

hall, and called for on

g rain boots?" he as

dfather. Why?"

e pair?" Mr.

or three

?" he asked. And as the girl looked at him wi

them on her feet for me, will you?" he said when th

in. "Here, you take this, my good woman," said the clergyman, putting his umbrella over her head and thrusting the

o women and children," he added; and he never passed such mendicants without stopping. All the stories about their being tool

d once to a newsboy who was crying with

taking the boy's hand and leading him into t

behind the counter. "Guess The Eagle can stan

Mr. Beecher rar

in a return

e asked of a man who approach

d any," sa

or it?" was th

man looked Mr. B

?" asked M

said t

Edward, as they walked along with the man fol

ch," he said to the sexton when

d the sexton with wounded

r. Beecher with a merry twinkle of

of writing out the newspaper articles, Edward, himself employed during the daylight hours which Mr. Beecher preferred for his original work, suggested a sten

rs not to come again. No use of my trying to dictate. I am too

some material for a book he was writing. Edward naturally wo

ow much it would cost you to have me come to him

Henry War

lessons, and associations meant ideals. Mr. Beecher never disappointed. The closer one got to hi

de. He took in so much! One day Edward was walking pa

"always go through it. It's the next be

knew him, and they knew, too

apples, Mr. Beecher?" one

p of scale. Still, the blossoms are beautiful in the spring, and I like an apple-leaf. Ever examine on

interest in the beauties of natur

hes of celery in my life and never noticed how beautiful its top leaves were until he picked up a bunch

g. One day Edward was having a hurried dinner, preparatory to catching the New York trai

Edward, as the maid of

toes so lightly. They're of my own raising--and I reckon they co

Swayed by an occasion, or by the responsiveness of an audience, Mr. Beecher would sometimes say something which was not meant as it sounded. One evening, at a great political meeting at Coo

sponse. "The country needed a po

anyhow," respo

friend; he o

f course, and the reporters

Edward drove hom

ked: "Well, how do

ry well, except that he did not like

ence? What

repea

moments he said: "That's generally the way with extemporaneous remarks: they are always da

ers, and he would be nonplussed to understand it, considering the cordial relations which existed between the t

ome in a minute." He went straight to his desk, and wrote and wrote. It seemed as if he would neve

r way home. Then it'll get there just a

nly Henry Ward Beecher could write in his tenderest moods. A