[Illustration:  ANDREW CARNEGIE AT SIXTEEN WITH HIS BROTHER THOMAS]

As usual, my mother came to the rescue.  There was no keeping her down.  In her youth she had learned to bind shoes in her father’s business for pin-money, and the skill then acquired was now turned to account for the benefit of the family.  Mr. Phipps, father of my friend and partner Mr. Henry Phipps, was, like my grandfather, a master shoemaker.  He was our neighbor in Allegheny City.  Work was obtained from him, and in addition to attending to her household duties—­for, of course, we had no servant—­this wonderful woman, my mother, earned four dollars a week by binding shoes.  Midnight would often find her at work.  In the intervals during the day and evening, when household cares would permit, and my young brother sat at her knee threading needles and waxing the thread for her, she recited to him, as she had to me, the gems of Scottish minstrelsy which she seemed to have by heart, or told him tales which failed not to contain a moral.

This is where the children of honest poverty have the most precious of all advantages over those of wealth.  The mother, nurse, cook, governess, teacher, saint, all in one; the father, exemplar, guide, counselor, and friend!  Thus were my brother and I brought up.  What has the child of millionaire or nobleman that counts compared to such a heritage?

My mother was a busy woman, but all her work did not prevent her neighbors from soon recognizing her as a wise and kindly woman whom they could call upon for counsel or help in times of trouble.  Many have told me what my mother did for them.  So it was in after years wherever we resided; rich and poor came to her with their trials and found good counsel.  She towered among her neighbors wherever she went.

CHAPTER III

PITTSBURGH AND WORK

The great question now was, what could be found for me to do.  I had just completed my thirteenth year, and I fairly panted to get to work that I might help the family to a start in the new land.  The prospect of want had become to me a frightful nightmare.  My thoughts at this period centered in the determination that we should make and save enough of money to produce three hundred dollars a year—­twenty-five dollars monthly, which I figured was the sum required to keep us without being dependent upon others.  Every necessary thing was very cheap in those days.

The brother of my Uncle Hogan would often ask what my parents meant to do with me, and one day there occurred the most tragic of all scenes I have ever witnessed.  Never can I forget it.  He said, with the kindest intentions in the world, to my mother, that I was a likely boy and apt to learn; and he believed that if a basket were fitted out for me with knickknacks to sell, I could peddle them around the wharves and make quite a considerable sum.  I never knew what an enraged woman meant till then.  My mother was sitting sewing at the moment, but she sprang to her feet with outstretched hands and shook them in his face.