,,why ,i ,,believe ,,in ,,poverty 99 99 99 99 99 ,the ,riverside ,uplift ,series ,,why ,i ,,believe ,,in ,,poverty4 ,by ,,edward ,,bok1 ,,the ,,amateur ,,spirit1 ,by ,,bliss ,,perry4 ,,the ,,glory ,,of ,,the ,,imperfect1 ,by ,,george ,h1 ,,palmer4 ,,self-,,cultivation ,,in ,,english4 ,by ,,george ,h4 ,,palmer4 ,,trades ,,and ,,professions4 ,by ,,george ,h4 ,,palmer4 ,,the ,,cultivated ,,man4 ,by ,,charles ,w4 ,,eliot4 ,,whither8 ,,anonymous4 ,,calm ,,yourself4 ,by ,,george ,l4 ,,walton4 ,each1 #ej cents1 net4 ,,houghton ,,mifflin ,,company ,,boston ,,and ,,new ,,york 99 99 99 99 99 ,,why ,i ,,believe ,,in ,,poverty ,,as ,,the ,,richest ,,experience ,,that ,,can ,,come ,,to ,a ,,boy ,,by ,,edward ,,bok ,,boston ,,and ,,hew ,,york ,,houghton ,,mifflin ,,company ,,mdccccxv ,,copyright1 #aiae1 ,,by ,,curtis ,,publishing ,,company ,,copyright1 #aiae1 ,,by ,,edward ,,bok ,,all ,,rights ,,reserved #aiae ,a ,,foreword ,,the article in this little book was published in ,the ,ladies' ,home ,journal for ,april1 #aiae4 ,much to the surprise of the author1 the call for copies was so insistent as to exhaust the edition of the magazine containing it4 ,as the demand did not appear to be supplied1 the article is now reprinted in this form4 ,it is sent out with the hope of the author that it may still further fulfill its mission of giving the stimulant of encouragement wherever it is needed4 ,e4 ,b4 ,october ,nineteen hundred and fifteen ,,why ,i ,,believe ,,in ,,poverty ,,as ,,the ,,richest ,,experience ,,that ,,can ,,come ,,to ,a ,,boy ,i ,,make my living trying to edit the ,ladies' ,home ,journal4 ,and because the public has been most generous in its acceptance of that periodical1 a share of that success has logically come to me4 ,hence a number of my very good readers cherish an opinion that often ,i have been tempted to correct1 a temptation to which ,i now yield4 ,my correspondents express the conviction variously1 but this extract from a letter is a fair sample3-- ,it is all very easy for you to preach economy to us when you do not know the necessity for it3 to tell us how1 as for example in my own case1 we must live within my husband's income of eight hundred dollars a year1 when you have never known what it is to live on less than thousands4 ,has it ever occurred to you1 born with the proverbial silver spoon in your mouth1 that theoretical writing is pretty cold and futile compared to the actual hand-to-mouth struggle that so many of us live1 day by day and year in and year out--an experience that you know not of8 99 99 99 99 99 ,an experience that you know not of6 ,now1 how far do the facts square with this statement8 ,whether or not ,i was born with the proverbial silver spoon in my mouth ,i cannot say4 ,it is true that ,i was born of well-to-do parents4 ,but when ,i was six years old my father lost all his means1 and faced life at forty-five1 in a strange country1 without even necessaries4 ,there are men and their wives who know what that means3 for a man to try to come back at forty-five1 and in a strange country6 ,i had the handicap of not knowing one word of the ,english language4 ,i went to a public school and learned what ,i could4 ,and sparse morsels they were6 ,the boys were cruel1 as boys are4 ,the teachers were impatient1 as tired teachers are4 ,my father could not find his place in the world4 ,my mother1 who had always had servants at her beck and call1 faced the problems of housekeeping that she had never learned nor been taught4 ,and there was no money4 ,so1 after school hours1 my brother and ,i went home1 but not to play4 ,after-school hours meant for us to help a mother who daily grew more frail under the burdens that she could not carry4 ,not for days1 but for years1 we two boys got up in the gray cold winter dawn when the bed feels so snug and warm to growing boys1 and we sifted the cold ashes of the day-before fire for a stray lump or two of unburned coal1 and with what we had or could find we made the fire and warmed up the room4 ,then we set the table for the scant breakfast1 went to school1 and directly after school we washed the dishes1 swept and scrubbed the floors4 ,living in a three-family tenement1 each third week meant that we scrubbed the entire three flights of stairs from the third story to the first1 as well as the doorsteps and the side-walk outside4 ,the latter work was the hardest3 for we did it on ,saturdays with the boys of the neighborhood looking on none too kindly1 or we did it to the echo of the crack of the ball and bat on the adjoining lot6 ,in the evening1 when other could sit by the lamp or study their lessons1 we two boys went out with a basket and picked up wood and coal in the neighboring lots1 or went after the dozen or so pieces of coal left from the ton of coal put in that afternoon by one of our neighbors1 with the spot hungrily fixed in mind by one of us during the day1 hoping that the man who carried in the coal might not be too careful in picking up the stray lumps6 ,an experience that you know not of6 ,don't ,i8 ,at ten years of age ,i got my first job3 washing the windows of a baker's shop at fifty cents a week4 ,in a week or two ,i was allowed to sell bread and cakes behind the counter after school hours for a dollar a week--handing out freshly baked cakes and warm1 delicious smelling bread1 when scarcely a crumb had passed my mouth that day6 ,then on ,saturday mornings ,i served a route for a weekly paper1 and sold my remaining stock on the street4 ,it meant from sixty to seventy cents for that day's work4 ,i lived in ,brooklyn1 ,new ,york1 and the chief means of transportation to ,coney ,island at that time was the horse car4 ,near where we lived the cars would stop to water the horses1 the men would jump out and get a drink of water1 but the women had no means of quenching their thirst4 ,seeing this lack ,i got a pail1 filled it with water and a bit of ice1 and1 with a glass1 jumped on each car on ,saturday afternoon and all day ,sunday1 and sold my wares at a cent a glass4 ,and when competition came1 as it did very quickly when other boys saw that a ,sunday's work meant two or three dollars1 ,i squeezed a lemon or two in my pail1 my liquid became lemonade and my price two cents a glass1 and ,sundays meant five dollars to me4 ,then1 in turn1 ,i became a reporter during the evenings1 an office boy day-times1 and learned stenography at midnight6 ,my correspondent says she supports her family of husband and child on eight hundred dollars a year1 and says ,i have never known what that means4 ,i supported a family of three on six dollars and twenty-five cents a week--less than one half of her yearly income4 ,when my brother and ,i1 combined1 brought in eight hundred dollars a year we felt rich6 ,i have for the first time gone into these details in print so that my readers may know1 at first hand1 that the ,editor of the ,ladies' ,home ,journal is not a theorist when he writes or prints articles that seek to preach economy or that reflect a hand-to-hand struggle on a small or an invisible income4 ,there is not a single step1 not an inch1 on the road of direst poverty that ,i do not know or have not experienced4 ,and1 having experienced every thought1 every feeling1 and every hardship that come to those who travel that road1 ,i say to-day that ,i rejoice with every boy who is going through the same experiences4 ,nor am ,i discounting or forgetting one single pang of the keen hardships that such a struggle means4 ,i would not to-day exchange my years of the keenest hardship that a boy can know or pass through for any single experience that could have come to me4 ,i know what it means1 not to earn a dollar1 but to earn two cents4 ,i know the value of money as ,i could have learned it or known it in no other way4 ,i could have been trained for my life-work in no surer way4 ,i could not have arrived at a truer understanding of what it means to face a day without a penny in hand1 not a loaf of bread in the cupboard1 not a piece of kindling wood for the fire--with nothing to eat1 and then be a boy with the hunger of nine and ten1 with a mother frail and discouraged6 ,an experience that you know not of6 ,don't ,i8 ,and yet ,i rejoice in the experience1 and ,i repeat3 ,i envy every boy who is in that condition and going through it4 ,but--and here is the pivot of my strong belief in poverty as an undisguised blessing to a boy--,i believe in poverty as a condition to experience1 to go through1 and then to get out of3 not as a condition to stay in4 ,that's all very well1 some will say2 easy enough to say1 but how can you get out of it8 ,no one can definitely tell another that4 ,no one told me4 ,no two persons can find the same way out4 ,each must find his way for himself4 ,that depends on the boy4 ,i was determined to get out of poverty because my mother was not born in it1 could not stand it1 and did not belong in it4 ,this gave me the first essential3 a purpose4 ,then ,i backed up the purpose with effort and a willingness to work1 and to work at anything that came my way1 no matter what it was1 so long as it meant the way out4 ,i did not pick and choose3 ,i took what came1 and did it in the best way ,i knew how2 and when ,i didn't like what ,i was doing ,i still did it well while ,i was doing it1 but ,i saw to it that ,i didn't do it any longer than ,i had to do it4 ,i used every rung in the ladder as a rung to the one above4 ,it meant effort1 of course1 untiring1 ceaseless1 and unsparing1 and it meant work1 hard as nails4 ,but out of the effort and the work came the experience2 the upbuilding2 the development2 the capacity to understand and sympathize2 the greatest heritage that can come to a boy4 ,and nothing in the world can give that to a boy1 so that it will burn into him1 as will poverty4 ,that is why ,i believe so strongly in poverty1 the greatest blessing in the way of the deepest and fullest experience that can come to a boy4 ,but1 as ,i repeat3 always as a condition to work out of1 not to stay in4 ,the ,riverside ,press ,,cambridge ,,massachusetts ,u4,s4,a4