on the campus. It soon became natural to "let Hoover manage" the various student undertakings; and to this day "the way Hoover did things" is one of the most firmly established traditions of Leland Stanford.

Graduating from the university in the pioneer class of 1895, he served his apprenticeship at the practical work of mining engineering in Nevada County, California, by sending ore-laden cars. from the opening of the mine to the reducing works. He earned two dollars a day at this job, and also the opportunity to prove himself equal to greater responsibility. The foreman nodded approvingly and said: "There's a young chap that college could n't spoil! He has a degree plus common sense, and so is ready to learn y something from the experience that comes his way. And he's always on the job-right to the minute. Any one can see he 's one that 's bound for the top!"

It seemed as if Fate were determined from the first that he should qualify as a citizen of the world as well as a master of mines. For we next find him in a dreary waste of West Australia. In a sun-smitten desert, whose buried wealth of gold is given grudgingly only to those who have grit to endure weary, parched days and pitiless, lonely nights, he met the ordeal, and proved himself still a man in No Man's Land. He looked the desert phantoms in the face, and behold! they faded like a mirage.

This work completed, there came a call to solve new problems as a mining expert and manager of men in China. But he did not go to this new field alone. While at college he had found in one of his fellow-workers a kindred spirit, who was interested in the real things that were meat and drink to him. Miss Lou Henry was a live California girl, with warm human charm and a hobby for the marvels of geology. It was not strange that these two found it easy to fall into step, and that after a while they decided to fare forth on the adventure of living together.

It was an adventure with something more than the thrill of novel experience and the tonic of meeting new problems that awaited them in the Celestial Empire. For a long time a very strong feeling against foreigners and the changed life they were introducing into China had been smoldering among many of the people. There was a large party who believed that change was dangerous. They did not want railroads built and mines worked. The snorting locomotive, belching fire and smoke, seemed to them the herald of the hideous new order of things that the struggling peoples of the West were trying to bring into their mellow, peaceful civilization.

The Boxer Society, whose name meant "the fist of righteous harmony" and whose slogan was "Down with all foreigners!" became very powerful. "Let us be true to the old customs and keep China in the safe old way!" was the cry of the Boxers. The "righteous harmony" meant "China first," and "China for the Chinese"; the "fist" meant "Death to Intruders!" There was a general uprising in 1900, and many foreigners and Chinese Christians were massacred. Mr. Hoover, who was at Tientsin in charge of important mining interests, found himself at the very stormcenter. It was his task to save the railroads and other property from destruction by the infuriated mob.

The master of mines had a chance to prove himself now a master of men. He succeeded in safeguarding the interests of his company, and somehow he managed, too, to keep his faith in people in spite of the war madness. He never doubted that the wave of unreason and cruelty would pass, like the blackness of a storm. Reason and humanity would prevail, and kindly Nature would make each battle-scarred field of struggle and bloodshed smile again with flowers.

The adventure of living led the Hoovers to Australia, to Russia, Siberia, India, to any and all places where there were mines to be worked. As director of important mining interests Mr. Hoover's judgment was sought wherever the struggle to win the treasures of the rocks presented special problems. He had now gained wealth and influence, but he was too big a man to rest back on what he had accomplished and content himself with making money.

"I have all the money I need," he said. “I want to do some real work; it 's only doing things that counts.'

You know, of course, the joy of doing something quite apart from anything you have to do, just because you have taken up with the idea for its own sake. Then you run to meet any amount of effort, and work becomes play. Mr. Hoover and his wife now took up a task together with all the zest that one puts into a fascinating game. Can you imagine getting fun out of translating a great Latin book about mines and minerals?

"For some time I have looked forward to putting old Agricola into English," explained Mr. Hoover; "we are having a real holiday working it up."

"Who in the world was Agricola, and what does he matter to you?" demanded his friend, in

amazement.

"Agricola, my dear fellow, was the Latinized name of a German mining engineer who lived in the early part of the sixteenth century-a time

when it was not only the fashion to turn one's name into Latin, but to write all books of any importance in that language. He matters a good deal to any one who happens to be especially interested in the science of mining. This volume we are at work on is the corner-stone of that science."

"How, then, does it happen that it has never been translated before?" asked the friend.

"Well," replied Mr. Hoover, with some hesitation, "you see it was n't a particularly easy job. Agricola's Latin had its limitations, but his knowledge of minerals and mining problems was prodigious. Only a mining expert could possibly get at what he was trying to say, and most mining experts have something more paying to do than to undertake a thing of this kind."

"I see," retorted his friend, with a smile; "you are doing this because you have nothing more paying to do!"

"Yes," replied Mr. Hoover, quietly; "there is nothing that is more paying than the thing that is your work-because you particularly want to do it."

Mr. Hoover would say without any hesitation that the work which he volunteered to do when the storm of the great war broke on Europe in August, 1914, was "paying" in the same way. This citizen of the world was at his London headquarters, from which, as consulting engi

people were as frightened and helpless as children caught in a burning building. All at once they found themselves in a strange, threatening world, without means of escape.

"Nobody seemed to know what was to be done with us, and nobody seemed to care," explained a Vassar girl. "Their mobilizing was the only thing that mattered to them. There were no trains and steamers for us, and no money for our checks and letters of credit. Then Mr. Hoover came to the rescue. He saw that something was done, and it was done effectively. It took generalship, I can tell you, to handle that stampede -to get people from the continent into England, to arrange for the advancement of funds to meet their needs, and to provide means of getting them back to America. They say he is a wonderful engineer, but I don't think he ever carried through any more remarkable engineering feat than that was!"

The matter of giving temporary relief and providing transportation for some six or seven thousand anxious Americans was a simple undertaking, however, compared to Mr. Hoover's next task.

In the autumn of 1914 the cry of a whole nation in distress startled the world. The people of Belgium were starving. The terror and destruction of war had swept over a helpless little country, leaving want and misery everywhere.

There was need of instant and efficient aid. Of course only a neutral would be permitted to serve, and equally of course only a man used to handling great enterprises-a captain of industry and a master of men -would be able to serve in such a crisis. It did not take a prophet or seer to see in Her, bert Clark Hoover, that mas ter of vast engineering proj ects who had given himself so generously to helping his fellow-Americans in distress, a man fitted to meet the needs of the time. And Mr. Walter H. Page, American Ambassador to England, appealed to Mr. Hoover, American in London, citizen of the world and lover of humanity, to act as chairman of the Commission for Relief in Belgium. "Who is this Mr. Hoover, and will he be really able to man and manage the relief-ship?" was demanded on every side, in America as well as in Europe.

Relief Commission. At a time when England was vitally and entirely concerned with her war problems and when all railroads and steamships were supposed to be at the command of the government, Mr. Hoover quietly arranged for the transportation of supplies to meet the immediate needs of Belgium. Going on the principle that "when a thing is really necessary it is better to do it first and ask permission afterward," Mr. Hoover saw his cargoes safely stowed and the hatches battened down before he went to secure his clearance papers.

"We must be permitted to leave at once," he declared urgently. "If I do not get four cargoes of food to Belgium by the end of the week, thou

"I have managed to get all these things," Hoover interposed, "and am now through with them all except the steamers. This wire tells me that these are loaded and ready to sail, and I have come to you to arrange for their clearance."

The distinguished official looked at Hoover aghast. "There have been men sent to the Tower for less than you have done, young man!" he exclaimed. "If it was for anything but Belgium relief, if it was anybody but you,-I should hate to think of what might happen. As it is-I suppose I must congratulate you on a jolly clever coup. I'll see about the clearance papers at once."

First and last, the chief obstacles with which the Relief Commission had to deal were due to the suspicions of the two great antagonists, England, and Germany, each of whom was bent on preventing the other from securing the slightest advantage from the least chance or mischance. Now it was the British Foreign Office which sent a long communication, fairly swathed in red tape, suggesting changes in relief methods which, if carried out, would have held up the food of seven million people for two days. In this stress Mr. Hoover dispensed with the services of a clerk and wrote the following letter, which served to lighten a dark day at the Foreign Office, in his own hand:

In April, 1915, a German submarine, in its zeal to nip England, torpedoed one of the Commission's food-ships, and somewhat later an aëroplane tried to drop bombs on another. Mr. Hoover at once paid a flying visit to Berlin. He was assured that Germany regretted the incident and that it would not happen again.

Another incident which throws light on the character and influence of our citizen of the world was related by Mr. Lloyd-George, the first man of England, to a group of friends at the Liberal Club. Here is the story in the great Welshman's own words:

"Mr. Hoover,' I said, 'I find I am quite unable to grant your request in the matter of Belgian exchange, and I have asked you to come here that I might explain why.' Without waiting for me. to go on, my boyish-looking caller began speaking. For fifteen minutes he spoke without a break-just about the clearest utterance I have ever heard on any subject. He used not a word too much, nor yet a word too few. By the time

understood the question before, thanked him for helping me to understand it, and saw that things were arranged as he wanted them."

As Mr. Lloyd-George was impressed by the quiet efficiency of his "boyish-looking caller," so the whole world was impressed by the masterly system with which the great work was carried forward. Wheat was bought by the ship-load in Argentina, transported to Belgium, where it was milled and made into bread, and then sold for less than the price in London. The details of distribution were so handled as to remove all chance for waste and dishonesty; and finally, the cost of the work itself-the total expense of the Relief Commission-was less than five eighths of one per cent. of the money expended.

Many of the Belgians were, of course, able to pay for their food. They had property or securities on which money could be raised. The destitute people were the peasants and wage-earners whose only dependence for daily bread-their daily labor-had been taken from them by the

war.

Out of

help given, and we do not deserve it. $250,000,000 that have been spent, only $9,000,000 have come from the United States, the rich nation blessed with peace-who owes, moreover, much of her present prosperity to the misfortunes of the unhappy Belgians, for the greater part of the money expended for relief supplies has come to this country."

There is not a child in Belgium who does not know how Mr. Brand Whitlock, the American Ambassador, Mr. Hoover, and other American "Greathearts," have stood by them in their terrible need, just as they know that the wonderful "Christmas Ship," laden with gifts from children to children, came from America. They have come to look on the Stars and Stripes as the symbol of all that is good and kind.

All Americans who once realize that by far the greater part of the money spent for Belgium has come from the nations on whom the burdens of war are pressing heavily must want America to do much more.

Do you know the story of the kind-hearted