PRINCIPLE 2：
Smile.
You Are Headed for Trouble
Back in 1898， a tragic thing happened in Rockland County，New York. A child had died， and on this particular day theneighbors were preparing to go to the funeral. Jim Farley wentout to the barn to hitch up his horse. The ground was coveredwith snow， the air was cold and snappy； the horse hadn’t beenexercised for days； and as he was led out to the watering trough，he wheeled playfully， kicked both his heels high in the air， andkilled Jim Farley. So the little village of Stony Point had twofunerals that week instead of one.
Jim Farley left behind him a widow and three boys， and a fewhundred dollars in insurance.
His oldest boy， Jim， was ten， and he went to work in a brickyard，wheeling sand and pouring it into the molds and turning the brickon edge to be dried by the sun. This boy Jim never had a chance toget much education. But with his natural geniality， he had a flairfor making people like him， so he went into politics， and as theyears went by， he developed an uncanny ability for rememberingpeople’s names.
He never saw the inside of a high school； but before he wasforty-six years of age， four colleges had honored him with degreesand he had become chairman of the Democratic NationalCommittee and Postmaster General of the United States.
I once interviewed Jim Farley and asked him the secret of hissuccess. He said， “Hard work，” and I said， “Don’t be funny.”
He then asked me what I thought was the reason for his success.
I replied： “I understand you can call ten thousand people by theirfirst names.”
“No. You are wrong，” he said. “I can call fifty thousand peopleby their first names.”
Make no mistake about it. That ability helped Mr. Farley putFranklin D. Roosevelt in the White House when he managedRoosevelt’s campaign in 1932.
During the years that Jim Farley traveled as a salesman for agypsum concern， and during the years that he held office as townclerk in Stony Point， he built up a system for remembering names.
In the beginning， it was a very simple one. Whenever he meta new acquaintance， he found out his or her complete name andsome facts about his or her family， business and political opinions.
He fixed all these facts well in mind as part of the picture， and thenext time he met that person， even if it was a year later， he wasable to shake hands， inquire after the family， and ask about thehollyhocks in the backyard. No wonder he developed a following！
For months before Roosevelt’s campaign for President began，Jim Farley wrote hundreds of letters a day to people all over thewestern and northwestern states. Then he hopped onto a trainand in nineteen days covered twenty states and twelve thousandmiles， traveling by buggy， train， automobile and boat. He woulddrop into town， meet his people at lunch or breakfast， tea ordinner， and give them a “heart-to-heart talk.” Then he’d dash offagain on another leg of his journey.
As soon as he arrived back East， he wrote to one person ineach town he had visited， asking for a list of all the guests towhom he had talked. The final list contained thousands andthousands of names； yet each person on that list was paid thesubtle flattery of getting a personal letter from James Farley.
These letters began “Dear Bill” or “Dear Jane，” and they werealways signed “Jim.”
Jim Farley discovered early in life that the average personis more interested in his or her own name than in all the othernames on earth put together. Remember that name and call iteasily， and you have paid a subtle and very effective compliment.
But forget it or misspell it—and you have placed yourself at a sharpdisadvantage. For example， I once organized a public-speakingcourse in Paris and sent form letters to all the American residentsin the city. French typists with apparently little knowledge ofEnglish filled in the names and naturally they made blunders. Oneman， the manager of a large American bank in Paris， wrote me ascathing rebuke because his name had been misspelled.
What was the reason for Andrew Carnegie’s success？
He was called the Steel King； yet he himself knew little aboutthe manufacture of steel. He had hundreds of people working forhim who knew far more about steel than he did.
But he knew how to handle people， and that is what made himrich. Early in life， he showed a flair for organization， a genius forleadership. By the time he was ten， he too had discovered theastounding importance people place on their own name. Andhe used that discovery to win cooperation. To illustrate： Whenhe was a boy back in Scotland， he got hold of a rabbit， a motherrabbit. Presto！ He soon had a whole nest of little rabbits—andnothing to feed them. But he had a brilliant idea. He told the boysand girls in the neighborhood that if they would go out and pullenough clover and dandelions to feed the rabbits， he would namethe bunnies in their honor.
The plan worked like magic， and Carnegie never forgot it.
Years later， he made millions by using the same psychologyin business. For example， he wanted to sell steel rails to thePennsylvania Railroad. J. Edgar Thomson was the president of thePennsylvania Railroad then. So Andrew Carnegie built a
The Central Transportation Company， which AndrewCarnegie controlled， was fighting with the company that Pullmanowned. Both were struggling to get the sleeping-car business ofthe Union Pacific Railroad， bucking each other， slashing prices，and destroving all chance of profit. Both Carnegie and Pullmanhad gone to New York to see the board of directors of the UnionPacific. Meeting one evening in the St. Nicholas Hotel， Carnegiesaid：“Good evening， Mr. Pullman， aren’t we making a couple offools of ourselves？”
“What do you mean？” Pullman demanded.
Then Carnegie expressed what he had on his mind—a mergerof their two interests. He pictured in glowing terms the mutualadvantages of working with， instead of against， each other.