REAL ESTATE? J I
It Is a comprehensive occupa- ] [
o tlon that offers the ambitious <>
boy several distinct and profit- , ,
o able lines of advancement. How < •
he may break into the business, , ,
<► and how he may advance along J ;
J J several lines. The remunera- ~
<► tlon of various positions. The
possibilities of getting Into profit- <>
<► able business for himself. ' |
** BY C. W. JENNINGS. ! .
_A WHILE you have been thlnk
vi ' ng over the problem of
your boy's life work, has It
occurred to you that the
apparently well known real
estate business might be just the
thing?
But don't think for a moment that
all your boy would have to do after he
g'ot started in this line of endeavor
would be to buy and sell lots; for,
though that is an important phase of
the business, and one, to make a high
success, requiring much ability, mod
ern advancement has raised the real
estate business to such importance as
to embrace the best efforts In a large
number of distinct specialties. So in
this truly comprehensive occupation
will be found such a variety of work
that, after he is started in it, your boy
can develop his choice of several lines
of work, each of which may lead on
to a good sized competence, perhaps a
fortune.
There Is no special preliminary edu
cation that would be of particular
value to a boy taking up real estate
for his lifework, and more than all the
general learning he can acquire. Even
the schools and colleges have not seen
flt to take up real estate as a branch
of learning, all that is being done in
a direct educational way being a few
courses taught by the Young Men's
Christian association in some of the
large cities, and a few more or less
complete correspondence courses.
So a boy's only chance to learn the
business is togo right at it and get a
job with a real estate firm. Of course
the larger the firm, the greater variety
of opportunities he will have to ad
vance, and some of them are great
enough to take him to the very top
of the profession.
His first job will be that of ordinary
office youth at a salary of four or five
dollars a week, if the candidate should
be particularly young and inexperi
enced, or, if he has gone through high
school and can write and figure pretty
well, he might be put on at a minor
clerkship at eight or ten dollars a
week, or even might start in as a
stenographer or typist.
Your boy, of course, will wish to get
a general knowledge of the business
before he attempts to take up any par
ticular line, and so he will likely go
thro\ gh some or all of the different
stages of filing clerk, record clerk, au
ditor's clerk, mortgage clerk, etc.,
being promoted from time to time, till,
after three to five years, he will be
getting $lB to $25 a week. He can
stick to the clerical end and become
a chief clerk of one of the depart
ments at say as much as $35 weekly.
In the meantime, however, if he de
sires to get out of the purely office
end, ho will be picking up pointers on
outside work, and, perhaps, be learning
how to sell and buy lots. There is
more In this than appears at first
thought, for the qualities that make
n successful book agent are not enough
to make a succenfiul real estate sales
man.
To sell lots successfully, your boy
must know pretty mucn everything
that enters into a variety of things
that don't appear on the surface. He
must, for instance, have a good ac
quaintance with the general values of
property In the neighborhood: the cost
of various obvious Improvements that
have to be made; the price of adjoin-
Irrg and nearby property; street im
provements and assessments; what
will be charged to make connections
with sewer and gas mains; the facili
ties and cost of the prospective owner
getting to his place of business; ad
vice as to the cost and difficulty of
getting a mortgage on the property,
etc., etc. lu addition, he must have
the ability of a Milennial'; for, granted
that he can furulfH til tie • d» tails,
he still nas to convince the caller that
the particular piece of property under
conoid ratlrn Just the on h > wants;
and then your b<>y ha , to deal with the
seller, who may t>« an uncompromis-
Ing Individual.
A llrsil cla h salitMiian, generally
*p< akiiig. vs. ill earn an) where frettt
$ t.OO'i up to 115.00(1 or in'*i • a )<*ar In
commissions Home become so profl
dent that they scorn all other Hues of
work aud offers of salary and stli k to
M'III.'IK teal estate until they accumu
late 'he stake to retire on
The other Hues open to your hoy?
Well, almost every phase of this bu. I
nei . In a specialty, lie must know all
the d< tails abuut unimproved property.
This may be suburban lots, which It l <
desired to acquire In big eh inks tor
the purpose of making Improvement*
ai 4 i Ulna as Improved property Then
*>»# to know bow to advertise anil
make opportunities to unload the prop
erty after It la improved. He must
know the cost of building apartment
houses, and tho attractive features of
various modern Improvements in such
dwellings so as to lure tenants to them.
He must be a student of the trend of
traffic, so as to appraise office build
ings and the value of land adapted to
such purposes. Factory sites, trans
portation facilities, tenements, stores,
boulevards, parks, small farms (in
cluding the adaptability of tho soil
for agricultural purposes), the trend
of population of various classes, the
probability of this particular section
becoming a residence or a business
section —all this has to be within his
ken; and, if the customer should wish
to build a stcfre or a house or an of
fice building or an apartment house or
a factory, ho must be ready to tell him
glibly of the cost, and the formalities
to be gone through, and tho probable
revenues, and the taxes, and details
about possible loans.
All this enters Into the real estate
business, as well as other specialties,
such as civil engineering and laying
out and grading tho property; various
phases of finances, such as raising
money and mortgages, and financial
returns, such as rents, etc.; probable
cost of administration, including jani
tors, porters, scrubwomen, firemen,
etc.; tho cost and consumption of coal;
the cost and placing of fire insurance,
most of the big operating companies
placing insurance on the property they
handle; the placing of mortgages, etc.
Then there are companies that take a
suburban wilderness and turn it into
a habitable section, lay out the ground
and erect buildings—work which re
quires close acquaintance with build
ing regulations and real estate laws —
and employ their own architects and
building superintendents and civil and
constructive engineers.
What are the Initial steps your boy
has togo through before he can take
a leading part in all this maze of
industry? Well, he goes from a S2O
a week clerkship in one of the office
ends to one of the specialties, and be
comes a chief clerk in that. Then, as
he has displayed particular ability in
one direction, he is made assistant to
one of the superintendants at S3O or so
weekly; then becomes a construction
superintendent, or head of a civil en
gineering co!fs, or a head rental or
sa'es agont, or building superintendent,
or auditor, or chief accountant, and
will be paid from S.'J,OOO to SB,OOO a
year, according to the importance of
the company he has connected himself
with.
If he elects to remain with the com
pany, the next step will be a man
agership at increased salary, and,
eventually, the presidency perhaps.
Also, he may possibly become a lead
ing stockholder. Or, at some stage of
his progress, he may go into business
on his own account, starting at buying
or selling a lot or two, or take up the
rental business. Many young men have
made their start in securing the
agency for collecting rents and man
aging apartment houses on commis
sion, and in time making this a spe
cialty, have developed an extensive
business.
In any *vent, the young man who
takes up real estate in earnest stands
a reasonably fair chance to succeed in
some one of tho various iines, and to
succeed perhaps in a big way.
(Copyright, 1310, by the Associated Lit
erary Prists.)
Georgia's Wealth in Pecans.
A dispatch from Albany published re
cently in the ('(institution indicated
that within tho last four months 15,000
acres of pecan lands had been sold in
ui:d aiouud Dougherty county.
Preparations are under way for
p'aniinK thi.s tremendous area in the
toothsome nut that promises so large
a revenue to Georgia.
The problem regarding this especial
Industry tuts lately changed front one
of a selling nature to one of gutting
lands to sell.
At prcM'ttt, It Is said, there is an
actual famine of pecan lauds readily
available.
To be sure there are (till large un-
I occupied tracts in the pecan belt, bul
' the owners foresee tho possibilities of
\ treniend'nif development and are lu no
hurry to rush their holdings on the
market.
Within only comparatively recent
| years h . the country uw likened to
Georgia's poit ntlulitics with regard to
! pecans.
Now it Ih com mon knowledge among
investors tli.u orchards properly tend
"d ami the expense of so doing is
iiniall reiurii dividends beside which
many other crops are negligible.
it is logical that tu course of time
the pecan will Income one of tlx-
H tatf-'s beat rev# line producers.
The p« can, moreover, la only on-»
Hem. (|i<>:gl;i has plenty more such at
h«r hack to le- pire the activities uf the
<«reau«r ti *otg la association and other
organisation* engaged In th« mUston
of developim nf Atlanta i'onstltutioii
Counting the Rids Track*.
When i 'ta<ks art ti ken Into e<*
•mint, we have mor» lallri d uiilssfi
tftan all th>- r«si of the world.
CAMERON COUNTY PRESS. THURSDAY, DECEMBER 22, 1910.
HKJ TTTrnre
=*?•=•
" THE OE-STRUCTtVE 31/OfiWWIE
EVER since submarines were first
introduced brainy men have
been at work devising methods
by which dangers to their
crews can be reduced to a
minimum. Those who are used to
serving in these deadly little craft
will tell you that these dangers are
not so great as is usually imagined,
and that the loss of life from acci
dents has really been comparatively
small.
The two great dangers are colli
sion and explosion, and special at
tention has been given to methods
that will prevent loss of life in caae
of accident from these two sources.
When the submarine is submerged
It Is really half blind, for the peri
scope is only a makeshift eye, but
even this has been greatly Improved.
Formerly the lens in use only allowed
half the horizon to be examined, un
less the periseopo was turned round.
It could therefore happen that a ship
might come up unnoticed and strike
the submarine before It could dive
to safety. Now, however, a new lens
has been devised which gives a com
plete view all round, so that an ap
proaching vessel can be seen from
whatever quarter It comes. The peri
scope is the eye of the submarine.
Its vertical telescopic tube looks like
a very thin smokestack, extending 15
feet above the submarine's bridge
and its top part contains the so-called
eye, which sends down images of the
outer world to the interior of the sub
marine, either by reflection or refrac
tion. One system is almost as good
as the other. The reflection apparatus
has two mirrors at 45 degrees at the
two extremeties. The apparatus by
refraction has two prisms of total re
flection, as in a camera. Behind the
top one a mirror sends down the
image that can be enlarged—like the
telescope attachment to a camera—■
but both systems have the disadvant
age of looking on the world through
a pinhole.
Suppose the "eye" be fixed north.
Those in the submarine get a glimpse
due north. To glance a few degrees
on either side the whole tube must be
turned or else the eye alone. In the
first case—if the tube does net twist
or grip—the image turns with it and
observers have to move around the
table. If the eye alone be turned the
lower prlsin or mirror remains fixed.
The image, consequently, shows all
objects inclined at the angle of tbc
eye's turning.
For years past the French admir
alty has never cased to hunt for
something better. The navigation
of submarines under water absolutely
demanded an apparatus capable of
disclosing simultaneously the whole
circle of the horizon —plus a tele
scopic magnifier for the object to be
carefully examined.
And here we are on the delicate
ground of a state secret. They have
found their apparatus. It is known,
too, that they -got upon Its track by
seeking to utilise an annulary prism
devised by Colonel Manjln for the
takltiK of circular photographs of the
horizon from a captive balloon. This
is all we re illy know of the construc
tion of the machine that is to put
French submarines on a footing of
such enormous superiority thut the
mind does not at first grasp the
meaning of It. Hut the effects pro
duced by the machine lurve not been
kept so secret.
In Brest three submarines and
three sttbtretsibles were fitted with
tho apparatus at once for experiment
and extraordinary tales tire told of
exploits under water.
I'p to within a mile of Its prey
the sttbtii.'tKible floats on the surface
like a simile torpedo host Then,
tearing to ?».• seen, it slnl.s mid con
tlnues navigating »ix 112• under w:i
ter with tb«» aid of the aduilrultt '•
perfect id pel ope Within suu
yards of the de»nn I hip H.« . p>dt
In the telescopic tube Hid navigate
u short time by the compass.
When Hi' * they are ..(thill
fiiio yards they jmsh the tube into
the air nir iln Jc-t tilth « cough o
let them their prey |t IH pruc
llcally Int. .U ■ <•> people unstispl
clout of Its pr« ••■nee lii that ( irti. it
lar spot At ;ut> yard iHet. »i M
stir.t and what happens It what hap
putted to Hie Itu Ia it 11. el su o ten
These are sulMSt rglbles, 113 to .'JO
feet long, m ini esgilng and furnished
tfltli both steam and ehctrle engines
Their normal plane of tra> -I being
oa the surface just Ilk" a orp. I
bml, their primary tu Hve |.ow. r is
the steam These steam engines run
lis dy tin in i to ft nets Hie i uOve
yowtr ut the ilscirit' englio .■> and a'l
details of their construction are kept
a dead secret.
Serious danger ia escaping petrol,
which may lead to an explosion. By
the regulations the engine must be
stopped as soon as an escape is no
ticed, a bad accident being caused a
year ago by neglect of this precau
tion. Two engineers employed at
Portsmouth have invented an ap
paratus that registers the escape of
petrol or other gas, coming Into ac
tion long before sufficient can have
escaped to form an explosive mixture.
By an ingenious contrivance a red
light Is substituted for a white one
and a bell is rung when there Is a
leakage of gas.
Sometimes sea water will pene
trate into the accumulators, a very
serious danger, as chlorine is thereby
evolved which may suffocate the
crew. A safety helmet, somewhat re
sembling those worn in mining ex
plosions, has been designed by a
couple of naval officers. Attached to
a water-tight canvas Jacket that
straps round the waist Is a big hel
met with a glass front, not unlike
that of the ordinary diver.
Just below the front of this Is a
magazine containing a special sub
stance called "oxyllthe," which has
the power of giving off oxygen and
absorbing the carbonic acid In the air
when it comes in contact with water.
In this manner the wearer of the
helmet has always a good supply of
air to breathe, 60 that in case of the
evolution of chloride the crew would
1-1 -
s . \
crsMfcf or rnr wuscore - v
hastily don these jackets, which are
kept in all submarines.
They have still another use, for, be
ing full of air, they serve as life
buoys. Thus, in the event of a sub
marine being struck by a passing
ship and holed, these dresses would
be put oil at once. m Then the hatch
could be opened, and the men would
float to the surface.
Air always seeks the highest point,
and as soon as a submarine leaks the
water fills the bottom and pushes the
art- to the top, where a certain quan
tity is always held in any odd little
corner near the roof. Therefore, thin
steel partitions, depending a foot or
two front the roof in places where It
slopes or forms corners, are being
fitted in order to form air traps In
different parts of the Interior.
Thua, when a bad lenk occurs,
filling the submarine with water,
the air is pressed into theae
traps. The crew Immediately seize
their helmets and stand with heads
and shoulders above the water in the
air traps, so that they can breathe
while putting on the safety dress.
Another invention that has been
ifli d in one or two of the underwater
• raft consists of a loni? flexible tube
attache I to the oit'side At one end
is a H at. while the other cocuniuni
tales with the Interior. In the event
of an a< eld< nt this tube Is liberated,
and IN at em e borne to Hie surface
by the Rout, to which is attached a
fl ire, to give nolle to any ship near
ai hand I'ntll the submarine is
tal d, ti e crew can lire 'Hie through
thl . tube, i r food might even l> ■
passed down.
crew call estate If necessary. This
lock if It Is de»ll« Ito leave lite sub
tun ll' *, a ilittiiy dr S* IJ donned and
tl >• air lock entered Tl e door com
v- <1 Is i li. I and ih' n the diver
go. into the enter rtuupartmeni,
.1 ► lag the illH»» I-J 'lie air lock after
him Water Is Hint allowed to enter
snd When It Is lull he merely open
out again, h that oiter* c*u follow
The Revolt
By MABEL CHASE ENGLAND
Copyright, 1910, by Associated Literary Press
"But, Edward, I promised Marian
I would dine with her tomorrow night,
and go over our parts for the play.
Her husband is away, you know."
Mr. Orantley waved his hand as one
who brushes aside a futile and silly
objection. "Nonsense, my dear, you
can do that at any time. The Browns
are people I want to stand in with —
for business reasons, of course—and
I accepted, definitely, for both of us.
That settles it."
Mrs. Orantley flushed. She didn't
often oppose her husband, but she
had been looking forward keenly to
the little dinner alone with her sister.
"You knew I was going to Marian's,"
she ventured, pleadingly. "You can
say you forgot, that we will come some
other time."
Mr. Grantley looked displeased. "My
dear, the matter is settled." His tone
spelled finality.
Mrs. Grantley's lovely, youthful face
grew mutinous. A hot, unaccustomed
rebellion surged within her.
"You never consult me—never!"
Her husband's eyes grew cold.
"Honora," he said, "you had better
go up to your room for the rest of the
evening. You are not in a mood for
iiensibie discussion. Go, now, and—
good-night."
Mrs. Grantley rose and walked
swiftly from the room, reached her
bedroom and shut and locked the
door. Then she paced up and down
in a tumult of angry resentment. Sent
to her room like a schoolgirl! Pun
ished because she had dared to object
—to raise her voice in protest! It
was unbearable! Yet it was the kind
of thing that was always happening,
always would happen as long as she
allowed it to. She sank into a chair
and rested her chin on her clasped
hands, searching her mind intently
for causes and effects.
She had been left an orphan and
Edward Grantley had been appointed
her guardian. Living with him as
his ward she had looked up to him,
obeyed him, consulted him in every
thing, and when, having reached the
age of seventeen, he had asked her to
become his wife she had consented,
knowing little of marriage, caring
only that she could continue to live
oa with him" indefinitely in the home
that she loved so well.
After marriage everything had gone
on about the same. He had loved her,
petted her, censored her; she had con
tinued to obey him, consult him and
look up to him. Now she was twenty,
and mixing more with the world, con
sorting with other women, she was
coming to realize that the relationship
in which she stood to her husband was
not that of other wives, that she and
Edward were not partners, compan
ions, walking side by side through
life on equal terms, but still child and
guardian. Now it seemed to her as if
the thing had come suddenly to a
bead.
"I must do something, 1 must!" she
exclaimed, stamping her foot in em
phasis. "This subjection is only a
habit —with Edward as well as my
self. He doesn't realize —1 don't make
him see—"
With sudden determination she rose,
smoothed her ruffled hair and gown
and forcibly regained her composure.
Then she unlocked the door, hesitate*}
a moment on the threshold, took her
courage in both 'lands and passed
quickly through the hails and down
into the library. As she entered and
walked over to one of the bookcases
her husband looked up; th»n, evident
ly expecting her to select a book and
return to her room, went on with his
writing.
Honora chose a volume of recent
fiction and sat down by the open lire.
Mr. Grantley leaned back in his
chair.
"Ilonora, I thought I said good night
to you."
"You did," she smiled, "hut when 1
got upstairs I found 1 didn't feci
sleepy, so I decid .>d to come down
again."
Her husband looked at her In as
tonishment.
"I meant you to remain there, my
dear, but If you have derided to be
reasonable you may »tay here."
Mrs. Grantley v<m hsafed no re
spouse, and presently her husband's
voire broke the Btllln -s again.
"What book are you nadlug, Hon
ora
Sit.- told him the till*.
My dearest'" he protested, "you
! tuiw I object ry much to your ;
thai fto" h class of Hot lon.
Put It away and act something that
will stlit'iiluii your In am rath r than
lloitura held h« r*el( slill by a
strung effort
\lr Un ntley r<'» • aod wi*ut ov< r to
her.
•«Jlv.- me the b<>«»k Honora, and lit n
go upstairs. 1 don't understand you
tonight."
Honora** hitrt bit pitifully, but
h' r vulti wast» rene.
••I want to read Hit* book, id ward:
It U beitii! MI uiii.lt talked about. \nd
I don't cure tort-ad upstairs -th> room
Uifillly I prefer to slay tore "
Mr Hrautley looked at her uncer
tainly, tb u u».k f»nl r.»i|e-s puces
"You can't be w II tonight, Honora."
he commented finally Tomorrow I'll
have IV Hat. utt run In and look al
y i You are tie 1 fours, if at till" H..
settled ta. k ifl M» work. iniet mpting
it, however, with many uneasy and
perplexed glances at the fair profile of
his wife.
Nothing more was said that night,
nor the next morning, when he was
unusually grave and unresponsive, and
neglected to kiss her when he left for
the office. Honora shed a few bitter
tears, then grasped her resolution
anew. She would goto Marian's for
dinner that night. She must do some
thing definite and decided, something
that would bring the matter to an is
sue.
She dressed early, left a note for
her husband telling hiin she had de
cided to keep her engagement with
Marian, and set out. Arrived at her
sister's she said nothing about the
matter. She talked gayly about the
coming theatricals in which they
were both to take part, though as the
evening drew on she found it hard to
control her nervousness and appre
hension. When ten o'clock struck she
remarked quietly:
"Edward has togo out tonight and
may not be able to come for me. In
that case I'm going to stay all night
with you."
"You're a dear!" exclaimed Marian
warmly. "I don't believe he'll come
now—he's never later than ten. Let's
goto bed."
All night Honora tossed on her pil
low, thinks grieving, wondering
what he would do when she returned.
He was angry, she knew, or he would *"
have come for her. Perhaps h§ would
leave her, perhaps when she reached
there in the morning he would be
gone never to come back to her.
And how she loved him, in spite of
everything! He was so big, so
strong, so magnetic, everybody loved
him.
Toward morning she fell into a
troubled sleep, arose at eight unre
freshed, and after breakfast started
for home. The walk through the brisk
morning air did much to restore her
poise and confidence. When she
reached the house she was almost her
self again.
To her surprise, her husband met
her at the door. His face was pale
and haggard.
"Come into the library, Honora,"
he said. "I have something to say to
you."
She went in obediently and sat
down in a big chair by the window.
The relief of finding him still at home
had lightened her heart.
Ho closed the door and faced her.
Honora, he said, "I don't know
how to tell you, how to explain to you
just what this night has been to me.
At first I was angry. I had a foolish
desire to punish you. Then as the eve
ning passed and you did not come I
grew anxious, i had thought of course
you would let aMrian send you in the
carriage. I began to ask myself what
it all meant, what reason you had for
acting as you did. Then I thought
over our disagreement of last night
and light began slowly to dawn on me.
As I paced up and down, thinking,
worrying, longing for you, the whole
revelation of my stupid conduct to
ward you since our marriage gradually
came to me. I saw my foolish atti
tude, your rebellion and my insistence
in their true light. I seemed to be
hold you suddenly in a new aspect,
not as a child to he schooled and
trained and dictated to, but as a
woman—a beautiful woman—my wife.
And then, dear, came gripping my
heart the terrible fear that I had lost
you, that in my thoughtless folly 1 had
unwittingly killed your love. Honora
There was a swift little rush and
two strong arms were round his neck
and a wet cheek pressed to his.
"Oh, dearest," she protested, half
sobbing, half laughing, "I loved you
till th«» time, and now more—more
than I ever dreamed of. I knew It
was just that you didn't think, that
you believed me to be still your bad,
small child—"
He held her to him, strongly.
"Hut." she whispered shyly, "you
mustn't give me all my own way, even
now, for I love you. and™l like to obey
you—a little!"
Unappreciated Joke.
The rigorous enforcem* nt of the
customs laws l>y Collector l.oeb cave
a wag an opportunity to per;«.trnte a
juke on his futility which fut'-..l to pro
1 dure uny tut" uai amount of merrl
iui nt Tiii man is a bachelor ami the
I loving and liidutK>-ut uncle of four
youiiK |" "pie, whom he has been in
ihe habit of i member I)»; literally
with gifts, il« probably km* that
ihe qui-(ton, "What will uncle b.ii.ic
i.*lll Cue i vouW i> <ll ■ih dat
hi<t sister's home, ami In order to dls
pel an> Illusion* M-n« this note; "Our
protection. 1 s at.- i glit We should
patronise home Industry. I'm LIIIIIK
iiiK nothing HUM' than I tnok, e*ct pt
flinch and Ital. n real estate, de
limited on my e! tiling whll'' motor
ing \\ 111 liot be d tallied at the dock."
New York Tribune
Qsms as Poison Antidotes,
I'olson was thf terror of the nitdd'*
UK• It Is natural, the; < tore, In tillll
tiiany remedies among ferns the Ja
cinth the sapphire, the diamond, the
i ornellan. the iwby, th« saute, the
t ui.stone, the bmu. r lone were all
used as antidotes to poison.