Then Patsy sprang
up and rushed upon her father, crying;
"Oh, Daddy! Aren't you glad it's Uncle John?"
"I have still to hear his explanation," said the Major.
Uncle John beamed upon them. Perhaps he had never been so happy before
in all his life.
"I'm willing to explain," he said, lighting his pipe again and
settling himself in his chair. "But my story is a simple one, dear
friends, and not nearly so wonderful as you may imagine. My father had
a big family that kept him poor, and I was a tinsmith with little work
to be had in the village where we lived. So I started west, working my
way from town to town, until I got to Portland, Oregon.
"There was work in plenty there, making the tin cans in which salmon
and other fish is packed, and as I was industrious I soon had a shop
of my own, and supplied cans to the packers. The shop grew to be
a great factory, employing hundreds of men. Then I bought up the
factories of my competitors, so as to control the market, and as I
used so much tin-plate I became interested in the manufacture of this
product, and invested a good deal of money in the production and
perfection of American tin.
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