that　hole　what　I　thought　was　red　mud。
  〃Kind　sir；　why　are　they　throwing　that　red　mud　out　of　that　hole？〃　I　asked　a　native。
  〃That　hain't　red　mud。　That's　iron　ore；　an'　it's　the　best　iron　ore　in　the　world。〃
  〃What　is　it　worth？〃
  〃It　hain't　worth　nothin'　here；　that's　why　they're　movin'　it　away。〃
  There's　red　mud　around　every　community　that　〃hain't　worth　nothin'〃　until　you　move　itsend　it　to　college　or　somewhere。
  Not　very　long　after　this；　near　Pittsburgh；　Pennsylvania；　I　saw　some　of　this　same　red　mud。　It　had　been　moved　over　the　Great　Lakes　and　the　rails　to　what　they　call　a　blast　furnace；　the　technological　name　of　which　being　The　College　of　Needful　Knocks　for　Red　Mud。
  I　watched　this　red　mud　matriculate　into　a　great　hopper　with　limestone；　charcoal　and　other　textbooks。　Then　they　corked　it　up　and　school　began。　They　roasted　it。　It　is　a　great　thing　to　be　roasted。
  When　it　was　done　roasting　they　stopped。　Have　you　noticed　that　they　always　stop　when　anything　is　done　roasting？　If　we　are　yet　getting　roasted；　perhaps　we　are　not　done！
  Then　they　pulled　the　plug　out　of　the　bottom　of　the　college　and　held　promotion　exercises。　The　red　mud　squirted　out　into　the　sand。　It　was　not　red　mud　now；　because　it　had　been　roasted。　It　was　a　freshman　pig　iron；　worth　more　than　red　mud；　because　it　had　been　roasted。
  Some　of　the　pig　iron　went　into　another　department；　a　big　teakettle；　where　it　was　again　roasted；　and　now　it　came　out　a　sophomoresteel；　worth　more　than　pig　iron。
  Some　of　the　sophomore　steel　went　up　into　another　grade　where　it　was　roasted　yet　again　and　rolled　thin　into　a　junior。　Some　of　that　went　on　up　and　up；　at　every　step　getting　more　pounding　and　roasting　and　affliction。
  It　seemed　as　tho　I　could　hear　the　suffering　red　mud　crying　out；　〃O；　why　did　they　take　me　away　from　my　happy　hole…in…the…ground？　Why　do　they　pound　me　and　break　my　heart？　I　have　been　good　and　faithful。　O；　why　do　they　roast　me？　O；　I'll　never　get　over　this！〃
  But　after　they　had　given　it　a　diplomaa　pricemark　telling　how　much　it　had　been　roastedthey　took　it　proudly　all　over　the　world；　labeled　〃Made　in　America。〃　They　hung　it　in　show　windows；　they　put　it　in　glass　cases。　Many　people　admired　it　and　said；　〃Isn't　that　fine　work！〃　They　paid　much　money　for　it　now。　They　paid　the　most　money　for　what　had　been　roasted　the　most。
  If　a　ton　of　that　red　mud　had　become　watch…springs　or　razor…blades；　the　price　had　gone　up　into　thousands　of　dollars。
  My　friends；　you　and　I　are　the　raw　material；　the　green　trees；　the　red　mud。　The　Needful　Knocks　are　necessary　to　make　us　serviceable。
  Every　bump　is　raising　our　price。　Every　bump　is　disclosing　a　path　to　a　larger　life。　The　diamond　and　the　chunk　of　soft　coal　are　exactly　the　same　material；　say　the　chemists。　But　the　diamond　has　gone　to　The　College　of　Needful　Knocks　more　than　has　her　crude　sister　of　the　coal…scuttle。
  There　is　no　human　diamond　that　has　not　been　crystallized　in　the　crucibles　of　affliction。　There　is　no　gold　that　has　not　been　refined　in　the　fire。
  Cripple　Taught　by　Bumps
  One　evening　when　I　was　trying　to　lecture　in　a　chautauqua　tent　in　Illinois；　a　crippled　woman　was　wheeled　into　the　tent　and　brought　right　down　to　the　foot　of　the　platform。　The　subject　was　The　University　of　Hard　Knocks。　Presently　the　cripple's　face　was　shining　brighter　than　the　footlights。
  She　knew　about　the　knocks！
  Afterwards　I　went　to　her。　〃Little　lady；　I　want　to　thank　you　for　coming　here。　I　have　the　feeling　that　I　spoke　the　words；　but　you　are　the　lecture　itself。〃
  What　a　smile　she　gave　me！　〃Yes；　I　know　about　the　hard　knocks；〃　she　said。　〃I　have　been　in　pain　most　of　my　life。　But　I　have　learned　all　that　I　know　sitting　in　this　chair。　I　have　learned　to　be　patient　and　kind　and　loving　and　brave。〃
  They　told　me　this　crippled　woman　was　the　sweetest…spirited；　best…loved　person　in　the　town。
  But　her　mother　petulantly　interrupted　me。　She　had　wheeled　the　cripple　into　the　tent。　She　was　tall　and　stately。　She　was　well…gowned。　She　lived　in　one　of　the　finest　homes　in　the　city。　She　had　everything　that　money　could　buy。　But　her　money　seemed　unable　to　buy　the　frown　from　her　face。
  〃Mr。　Lecture　Man；〃　she　said；　〃why　is　everybody　interested　in　my　daughter　and　nobody　interested　in　me？　Why　is　my　daughter　happy　and　why　am　I　not　happy？　My　daughter　is　always　happy　and　she　hasn't　a　single　thing　to　make　her　happy。　I　am　not　happy。　I　have　not　been　happy　for　years。　Why　am　I　not　happy？〃
  What　would　you　have　said？　Just　on　the　spur　of　the　momentI　said；　〃Madam；　I　don't　want　to　be　unkind；　but　I　really　think　the　reason　you　are　not　happy　is　that　you　haven't　been　bumped　enough。〃
  I　discover　when　I　am　unhappy　and　selfish　and　people　don't　use　me　right；　I　need　another　bump。
  The　cripple　girl　had　traveled　ahead　of　her　jealous　mother。　For　selfishness　cripples　us　more　than　paralysis。
  Schools　of　Sympathy
  When　I　see　a　long　row　of　cots　in　a　hospital　or　sanitarium；　I　want　to　congratulate　the　patients　lying　there。　They　are　learning　the　precious　lessons　of　patience；　sympathy；　love；　faith　and　courage。　They　are　getting　the　education　in　the　humanities　the　world　needs　more　than　tables　of　logarithms。　Only　those　who　have　suffered　can　sympathize。　They　are　to　become　a　precious　part　of　our　population。　The　world　needs　them　more　than　libraries　and　foundations。
  The　Silver　Lining
  There　is　no　backward　step　in　life。　Whatever　experiences　come　to　us　are　truly　new　chapters　of　our　education　if　we　are　willing　to　learn　them。
  We　think　this　is　true　of　the　good　things　that　come　to　us；　but　we　do　not　want　to　think　so　of　the　bad　things。　Yet　we　grow　more　in　lean　years　than　in　fat　years。　In　fat　years　we　put　it　in　our　pockets。　In　lean　years　we　put　it　in　our　hearts。　Material　and　spiritual　prosperity　do　not　often　travel　hand…in…hand。　When　we　become　materially　very　prosperous；　so　many　of　us　begin　to　say；　〃Is　not　this　Babylon　that　I　have　builded？〃　And　about　that　time　there　comes　some　handwriting　on　the　wall　and　a　bump　to　save　us。
  Think　of　what　might　happen　to　you　today。　Your　home　might　burn。　We　don't　want　your　home　to　burn；　but　somebody's　home　is　burning　just　now。　A　conflagration　might　sweep　your　town　from　the　map。　Your　business　might　wreck。　Your　fortune　might　be　swept　away。　Your　good　name　might　be　tarnished。　Bereavement　might　take　from　you　the　one　you　love　most。
  You　would　never　know　how　many　real　friends　you　have　until　then。　But　look　out！　Some　of　your　friends　would　say；　〃I　am　so　sorry　for　you。　You　are　down　and　out。〃　Do　not　believe　that　you　are　down　and　out；　for　it　is　not　true。　The　old　enemy　of　humanity　wants　you　to　believe　you　are　down　and　out。　He　wants　you　to　sympathize　with　yourself。　You　are　never　down　and　out！
  The　truth　is；　another　chapter　of　your　real　education　has　been　opened。　Will　you　read　the　lesson　of　the　Needful　Knocks？
  A　great　conflagration；　a　cyclone；　a　railroad　wreck；　an　epidemic　or　other　public　disaster　brings　sympathy；　bravery；　brotherhood　and　love　in　its　wake。
  There　is　a　silver　lining　to　every　hard　knocks　cloud。
  Out　of　the　trenches　of　the　Great　War　come　nations　chastened　by　sacrifice　and　purged　of　their　dross。
  Chapter　IV
  〃Shake　The　Barrel〃
  How　We　Decide　Our　Destinies
  NOW　as　we　learn　the　lessons　of　the　Needless　and　the　Needful　Knocks；　we　get　wisdom；　understanding；　happiness；　strength；　success　and　greatness。　We　go　up　in　life。　We　become　educated。　Let　me　bring　you　a　picture　of　it。
  One　day　the　train　stopped　at　a　station　to　take　water。　Beside　the　track　was　a　grocery　with　a　row　of　barrels　of　apples　in　front。　There　was　one　barrel　full　of　big；　red；　fat　apples。　I　rushed　over　and　got　a　sack　of　the　big；　red；　fat　apples。　Later　as　the　train　was　under　way；　I　looked　in　the　sack　and　discovered　there　was　not　a　big；　red；　fat　apple　there。
  All　I　could　figure　out　was　that　there　was　only　one　layer　of　the　big；　red；　fat　apples　on　the　top；　and　the　groceryman；　not　desiring　to　spoil　his　sign；　had　reached　down　under　the　top　layer。　He　must　have　reached　to　the　bottom；　for　he　gave　me　the　worst　mess　of　runts　and　windfalls　I　ever　saw　in　one　sack。　The　things　I　said　about　the　grocery　business　must　have　kept　the　recording　angel　busy。
  Then　I　calmed　down。　Did　the　groceryman　do　that　on　purpose？　Does　the　groceryman　ever　put　the　big　apples　on　top　and　the　little　ones　down　underneath？
  Do　you？　Is　there　a　groceryman　in　the　audience？
  Man　of　sorrows；　you　have　been　slandered。　It　never　occurred　to　me　until　that　day　on　the　train　that　the　groceryman　does　not　put　the　big　ones　on　top　and　the　little　ones　down　underneath。　He　does　not　need　to　do　it。　It　does　itself。　It　is　the　shaking　of　the　barrel　that　pushes　the　big　ones　up　and　the　little　ones　down。
  Shake　to　Their　Places
  You　laugh？　You　don't　believe　that？　Maybe　your　roads　are　so　good　and　smooth　that　things　do　not　shake　on　the　road　to　town。　But　back　in　the　Black　Swamp　of　Ohio　we　had　corduroy　roads。　Did　you　ever　see　a　corduroy　road？　It　was　a　layer　of　logs　in　the　mud。　Riding　over　it　was　the　poetry　of　motion！　The　wagon　〃hit　the　high　spots。〃　And　as　I　hauled　a　wagon…bed　full　of　apples　to　the　cider…mill　over　a　corduroy　road；　the　apples　sorted　out　by　the　jolting。　The　big　apples　would　try　to　get　to　the　top。　The　little；　runty　apples　would　try　to　hold　a　mass　meeting　at　the　bottom。
  I　saw　that　for　thirty　years　before　I　saw　it。　D