My business was
progressing with leaps and bounds
The factory and office were moved to Broadway. This time it was
a real office, with several bookkeepers, stenographers, model
girls, and golden legends on the doors. These legends were always
glittering in my mind
People were loading me with flattery. Everybody was telling me
that I had "got there," and some were hinting, or saying in so many
words, that I was a man of rare gifts, of exceptional character. I
accepted it all as my due.
Nay, I regarded myself as rather underestimated. "They don't really
understand me," I would think to myself. "They know that I
possess brains and grit and all that sort of thing, but they are too
commonplace to appreciate the subtlety of my thoughts and
feelings."
Every successful man is a Napoleon in one thing at least--in
believing himself the ward of a lucky star. I was no exception to
this rule. I came to think myself infallible
In short, prosperity had turned my head
I looked upon poor people with more contempt than ever.
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