Edison as I know him, by Henry Ford, in collaboration with Samuel Crowther.

EDISON As I KNOW HIM

erally slackened speed. I had drawn several loads
of sand to this point to jump on, and had become
quite expert. When I approached the outskirts
of the town I was met by a large crowd. I then
yelled: "Twenty-five cents apiece, gentlemen! I
haven't enough to go around!' I sold all out, and
made what to me then was an immense sum of
money."
And while all this was going on, he was also
getting out his own train newspaper, reading
every book he could find and making every chemical and other experiment that he could gain the
wherewithal to make. It was the experiments, I
cannot too often repeat, that explain it all. Edison had no liking for news butchering or for merchandising or, in fact, for anything but investigating. But he could size up any opportunity in
terms of the money that he needed for his other
work.
He has never really lacked for money except
when he stopped earning in order to go forward
with work that he considered more important.
He never stints his work for lack of money. For
if he finds himself short, he turns for a while to
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