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In all this Cuban business there is one man stands out on the horizon of my memory like Mars at perihelion.
When war broke out between Spain and the United States it was very necessary to communicate quickly with the leader of the Insurgents. Garcia was somewhere in the mountain vastness of Cuba-no one knew where. No mail nor telegraph message could reach him. The President must secure his cooperation, and quickly. What to do!
Some one said to the President, “There’s a fellow by the name of Rowan will find Garcia for you, if anybody can.”
Rowan was sent for and given a letter to be delivered to Garcia. How “the fellow by the name of Rowan” took the letter, sealed it up in an oil-skin pouch, strapped it over his heart, in four days landed by night off the coast of Cuba from an open boat, disappeared into the jungle, and in three weeds came out on the other side of the Island, having traversed a hostile country on foot, and delivered his letter to Garcia-are things I have no special desire now to tell in detail. The point that I wish to make is this: McKinley gave Rowan a letter to be delivered to Garcia; Rowan took the letter and did not ask: “Where is he at?”
By the Eternal! There is a man whose form should be cast in deathless bronze and the statue placed in every college of the land. It is not book-learning young men need, nor instruction about this and that, but a stiffening of the vertebrae which will cause them to be loyal to a trust, to act promptly, concentrate their energies: do the thing-“Carry a message to Garcia!”
General Garcia is dead now, but there are other Garcias. No man who has endeavored to carry out an enterprise where many hands were needed, but has been well-nigh appalled at times by the imbecility of the average man-the inability or unwillingness to concentrate on a thing and do it.
Slipshod assistance, foolish inattention, dowdy indiffer-ence, and half-hearted work seem the rule; and no man succeeds, unless by hook or crook or threat he forces or bribes other men to assist him; or mayhap, God in His goodness performs a miracle, and sends him an Angel of Light for an assistant.
You, reader, put this matter to a test: You are sitting now in your office-six clerks are within call. Summon any one and make this request:” Please look in the encyclopedia and make a brief memorandum for me concerning the life of Correggio.” Will the clerk quietly say,” Yes, sir,” and go do the task?
On your life, he will not. He will look at you out of a fishy eye and ask one or more of the following questions: Who was he ? Which encyclopedia? Where is the encyclopedia? Was I hired for that? Don’t you mean Bismarck? What’s the matter with Charlie doing it? Is he dead? Is there any hurry? Shan’t I bring you the book and let you look it up yourself? What do you want to know for?
And I will lay you ten to one that after you have answered the questions, and explained how to find the information, and why you want it, the clerk will go off and get one of the other clerks to help him try to find Garcia-and then come back and tell you there is no such man. Of course I may lose my bet, but according to the Law of Average, I will not.
Now, if you are wise, you will not bother to explain to your “assistant” that Correggio is indexed under the C’s, not in the K’s, but you will smile very sweetly and say, “Never mind,” and go look it up yourself. And this incapacity for independent action, this moral stupidity, this infirmity of the will, this unwillingness to cheerfully catch hold and lift-these are the things that put pure Socialism so far into the future.
If men will not act for themselves, what will they do when the benefit of their effort is for all?
A first-mate with knotted club seems necessary; and the dread of getting “the bounce” Saturday night holds many a worker to his place. Advertise for a stenographer, and nine out of ten who apply can neither spell nor punctuate-and do not think it necessary to.
Can such a one write a letter to Garcia?
“You see that bookkeeper,” said the foreman to me in a large factory. “Yes, what about him?” “Well he’s a fine accountant, but if I’d send him up town on an errand, he might accomplish the errand all right, and on the other hand, might stop at four salons on the way, and when he got to Main Street would forget what he had been sent for.” Can such a man be entrusted to carry a message to Garcia?
“We have recently been hearing much maudlin sympathy expressed for the downtrodden denizens of the sweat-shop” and the “homeless wanderer searching for honest employ-ment,” “and with it all often go many hard words for the men in power.”
Nothing is said about the employer who grows old before his time in a vain attempt to get frowsy ne’er-do-wells to do intelligent work; and his long, patient striving after “help” that does nothing but loaf when his back is turned.
In every store and factory there is a constant weeding-out process going on. The employer is constantly sending away “help” that have shown their incapacity to further the interests of the business, and others are being taken on. No matter how good times are, this sorting continues: only, if times are hard and work is scarce, the sorting is done finer-but out and forever out the incompetent and unworthy go. It is the survival of the fittest. Self-interest prompts every employer to keep the best-those who can carry a message to Garcia.
I know one man of really brilliant parts who has not the ability to manage a business of his own, and yet who is absolutely worthless to any one else, because he carries with him constantly the insane suspicion that his employer is oppressing, or intending to oppress, him. He cannot give orders; and he will not receive them. Should a message be given him to take to Garcia, his answer would probably be, “Take it yourself!”
Tonight this man walks the streets looking for work, the wind whistling through his threadbare coat. No one who knows him dare employ him, for he is a regular firebrand of discontent. He is impervious to reason, and the only thing that can impress him is the toe of a thick-soled Number Nine boot.
Of course I know that one so morally deformed is no less to be pitied than a physical cripple; but in our pitying, let us drop a tear, too, for the men who are striving to carry on a great enterprise, whose working hours are not limited by the whistle, and whose hair is fast turning white through the struggle to hold in line dowdy indifference, slipshod imbecility, and the heartless ingratitude which, but for their enterprise, would be both hungry and homeless.
Have I put the matter too strongly? Possibly I have; but when all the world has gone a-slumming I wish to speak a word of sympathy for the man who succeeds-the man who, against great odds, has directed the efforts of others, and having succeeded, finds there’s nothing in it: nothing but bare board and clothes. I have carried a dinner pail and worked for day’s wages, and I have also been an employer of labor, and I know there is something to be said on both sides. There is no excellence, per se, in poverty; rags are no recommendation; and all employers are not rapacious and high-handed, any more than all poor men are virtuous. My heart goes out to the man who does his work when the “boss” is away, as well as when he is at home. And the man who, when given a letter for Garcia, quietly takes the missive, without asking any idiotic questions, and with no lurking intention of chucking it into the nearest sewer, or of doing aught else but deliver it, never gets “laid off” nor has to go on a strike for higher wages.
Civilization is one long anxious search for just such individuals.
Anything such a man asks shall be granted. He is wanted in every city, town and village-in every office, shop, store and factory. The world cries out for such: he is needed and needed badly-the man who can “Carry a Message to Garcia”.
So who will send a letter to Garcia?
The small snail: Why we must carry such a heavy hard-shell from we born on?
Mom: Because our bodies have no bone support, we climb too slow so we need a shell to protect us.
The small snail asked again: But the caterpillar sister does not have bones too, she climb slow too, why would not carry such a heavy and rigid shell?
Mother says: Because caterpillar sister will turn into a butterfly caterpillar, the sky will protect it.
The small snail said: But the earthworm will not turn into a butterfly, why should it not carry such a heavy and rigid shell?
Mother said: Because earthworm will scoop up soil, the earth will protect it.
The small snail cry, it said: We are so pity. The sky does not protect us, the earth does not protect us.
Just guess, the mother how to answer it?
Mom said: We have shells, we do not rely on sky, does not rely on earth, we rely on our own.
This dialogue tell us we should rely on our own whenever and wherever.
Welcome to YiWustock depot.We will be your best partner!
However mean your life is，meet it and live it ;do not shun it and call it hard names. It is not so bad as you are .It looks poorest when you are richest. The fault-finder will find faults in paradise .Love your life，poor as it is. You may perhaps have some pleasant，thrilling，glorious hours，even in a poor-house. The setting sun is reflected from the windows of the alms-house as brightly as from the rich man’s abode; the snow melts before its door as early in the spring. I do not see but a quiet mind may live as contentedly there
and have as cheering thoughts，as in a palace. The town’s poor seem to me often to live the most independent lives of any. May be they are simply great enough to receive without misgiving. Most think that they are above being supported by the town; but it often happens that they are not above supporting themselves by dishonest means, which should be more disreputable. Cultivate poverty like a garden herb，like sage .Do not trouble yourself much to get new things，whether clothes or friends，Turn the old，return to them. Things do not change; we change. Sell your clothes and keep your thoughts.
In my memory, stocks are cheap and poor quality, they aren’t taken care and put in a dark corner. As the time flies, they become a big problem to boss.
But when I come to Yi yang, seeing the stocks that are range from kitchenware to textile series, placed on the shelf of warehouse, they’re wonderful indeed and the quality is not bad. The most important is, they are carried out of the door one container by one container, exported to all over the world.
Therefore, stocks aren’t trash, but wealth.
Under background of economic crisis, stocks in market take a important roles, more and more clients choose stocks, in addition to better service and complete management in Yi yang. I’m confident to find enduring clients under the help of colleagues in different department.
YIWU is located in the center of Zhejiang province, only 300 km from China’s largest city of Shanghai, and 120 km from Hangzhou, the capital city of Zhejiang province. The city enjoys great geographical advantages, as it is in the middle of the west pacific coast and adjacent to Guangdong and Fujian in the south, Shanghai economic zone in the north, Ningbo port in the east and facing the pacific shipping channel.
Yiwu Domestic Airport is now linked to Beijing, Guangzhou, Qingdao, Xiamen, Shenzen etc. with more than 20 direct flights.
Hang-Jin-Qu, and Jin-Yong expressways stretch across the city. Now there are over 340 inter-province passenger lines available in Yiwu. It takes no more than one hour and a half to Hangzhou and merely 3 hour and a half to Shanghai.
With more than 90 trains stop at Yiwu station everyday, the railway network can take you to major cities across China, including Beijing, Guangzhou and Shanghai.
The Feature of Yiwu Market
1) The World’s Largest Wholesale Market Of Small Commodities
2) One-stop Shopping of Commodities in 1901 Categories
3) Zero-distance Contact With 58,000 Chinese Suppliers
4) All-day Exhibition Of 410,000 Kinds Of Consumer Goods
5) Accept Small Quantity, Can Mix lots of Items in One Container
6) All the Prices in Yiwu wholesale market is the Factory Price
7) Most of the Products are in Stock, Can Deliver within 2 weeks
Yiwu Products Export To 215 Countries And Regions