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Updated: May 11, 2025
His best friends had striven hard to awaken his slumbering ambition; even the companions of the towpath and of the woodyard had spoken with regret of the apparent waste of such abilities as he had shown; while his mother, who had been the first to perceive his talents, never ceased to urge her boy to fit himself for an honourable and useful calling.
He never rested until he had given the art of printing to the world. But to Laurence Coster, in the first place, if legend speaks truth, we owe one of the greatest inventions that has ever blessed mankind. "Jim, you've too good a head on you to be a wood chopper or a canal driver," said the captain of the canal boat for whom young Garfield had engaged to drive horses along the towpath.
"`Being the boat-race no afternoon school I am pleased. A vast mass on the towpath I being in flannels waited twenty-three minutes for the start. I am small in the world Parson is a conceited ass." Parson turned very red in the face, of course, at this unexpected turn, which, however, his two companions greatly enjoyed. "`Parson is a conceited ass "
"Speakin' of canals," he said, as if the subject had only been casually mentioned, "I was thinkin' of somethin'." "Yes?" said John. "E-up," said David. "That old ditch f'm Albany to Buffalo was an almighty big enterprise in them days, an' a great thing fer the prosperity of the State, an' a good many better men 'n I be walked the ole towpath when they was young. Yes, sir, that's a fact.
In the fields on the other side of the road a meadowlark sang; swallows twittered overhead; and in the grass at his feet the dandelions glowed like the round gold shields of a million soldiers. Yes, altogether it was a wonderful day. Marmaduke picked a great bouquet of the dandelions for Mother then he looked up the towpath.
The saloons were all well managed by Germans, who, as a drinking people, are the most orderly in the world. It was not generally known that McQuade was interested in the sale of liquors. His name was never mentioned in connection with the saloons. One of these saloons was on a side street. The back door of it faced the towpath.
We went through a little door into another long, narrow, low room, with a window on the towpath and a window on the river, and a queer old-fashioned bureau and two iron beds in it, and a clothes-horse, in one corner, covered with muslin. When you opened one flap of it, it was a closet. This was Aunty Edith and Aunty May's room.
He struck it upon the iron cover of the manhole, and thus made opportunity to assure himself that the cover was still removable. Satisfied of this, he lit his pipe and stood for a minute puffing at it, and staring, now at the stagnant canal water, now after the retreating figures of Miss Sally and Mr. Hucks, as without a backward look they passed down the towpath to the Iron Bridge.
Boys, who in the schools had read of Lincoln, walking for miles through the forest to borrow his first book, and of Garfield, the towpath lad who became president, began to read in the newspapers and magazines of men who by developing their faculty for getting and keeping money had become suddenly and overwhelmingly rich.
A man stood on his dropping barge, between clamps of turf. On the towpath by the lock a slacktethered horse. Aboard of the Bugabu. Their eyes watched him. On the slow weedy waterway he had floated on his raft coastward over Ireland drawn by a haulage rope past beds of reeds, over slime, mudchoked bottles, carrion dogs.
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