Vagabond Editorials

By Jack Dionne

Plenty of timely, friendly, a4d apparently sincere Pats on the back to keep the Vagabond Editor feeling that this selfappointed job of gad-fly to the lumber industry really does some good'

An official of Southern Oak Flooring Industries in Little Rock, Arkansas, writes: "Your ability to stay in there and pitch winning ball under the caption of Vagabond Editorials is one of the most constructive and therefore most helpful things in the entire tu;nU;r industry."

An ofEcial of the Battle Creek Lumber Company, away up in Battle Creek, Mich., praises our efforts to sell the idea of research to the lumber industry. "We feel," he says, "that every word you.say is absolutely true and we sincerely hope that the lumber industry will awake to the situation."

The little specid "Keep That Boy in You Alive" has been our permission to the extent of more than two thousand reprints, and reguests to use it are sti in. That clinging to youth is so deep seated in message minds and hearts of all of us, that that little great appeal.

{<** fom Dreier, famous publicity man, tells a little story in hisl"The Vagabond" of a man at peace with the world, a {gdberjack in British Columbia who lives content in a b\om covered cottage on the edge of the forest. A rich visitir commiserated with this man upon his poverty' urging him to move to the city and make money. "What do I want with money?" asked the lumberjack. "\ /'hy," replied the rich man, "you could go some place"' "Hell !" exclaimed the lumberjack in disgust, "ain't I some place now?"

But they're not all *n"a*-f. *o *u, hand struck a mill friend of mine for a job. He seemed competent, so my friend was taking him on. "Where are you from?" he asked. The newcomer spat tobacco juice freely. "From every place this side of Hell," he replied, "and I'll soon be , from here." And he was just as contented with his lot as / fo- Dreier's man who wouldn't travel.

-tne ancient Romans built the world's first great roads

"rh", men might meet." A lovely thought that's worth - holding. It reminds me of a great Frenchman who said: "Language is given us that we may say pleasant things to each other." Those two thoughts couple well together. :F*{.

A famous traveler is quoted as saying: 'ofraveling is not only a pleasure to people of our time, but a duty." That grand old lumberman of the West, Robert Dollar, of !a1 I'rancisco, has done more to make it possible and practical for people to see the world than any other human that ever lived. Wonderful boats, wonderful service, skilfully planned arrangements, and personal assistance to those who would know other lands and other seas, is iurnished by the Robert Dollar boats out of San Francisco, and the fact that these privileges may now be had in this world at reasonable prices, can be credited one hundred per cent to Robert Dollar. A great man, with a genius for doing things that benefit others. ***

One of my lumber friends writes me about these Vagabonds in a somewhat different vein than others. He says sometimes when he reads these castigations, he feels like writing me the letter that the hen-pecked soldier wrote back to his wife from his station in France, saying: "Don't send me no more nagging letters, Nellie. They don't do no good. I'm three thousand miles away.from home and I want to enjoy this war in peace." ,1.**

In a grand article on meeting the changes that are ta\ing place in business, "The Rotarian," Rotary's intefnatifnal magazine, says this editorially: "The business-that if\G tunate enough to have leaders who afe C${d wtt!|ftfficient imagination-and a little imagir\qi6n is alltthat is ever necessary-to be dissatisfied with tf,ings as they are, is the one who organizes a department of discontent in the form of a research laboratory, and then definitely sets out to try to change things for the better." :k**

And this same editorial tells a story. A good one. Surely it is like holdinq a mirror up in front of the lumber industry, to tell that story. It is about two old hansom cab drivers who refused to be terrified by the invasion of the motor car and cab, and who stuck for years to their stations at the Hotel Plaza in New York. They were waiting for good times to come again.

One night other, "that the d, "Corrigan, do you know what Corrigan. "I believe," said the has come to stay." was reading the other day in Forbes Magazine, the (Continued on Page 8)

*** auto show progress in New York. curb with the you looked, the old cabbies turned to the I think?" "What?"