I have that letter before me now. He wrote a splendid hand, and the letter is as clear and distinct as the day it was written, and signed with all the flourishes he always used.

I was back at work on the M. C. inside of a week and stayed there until 1876, when my "suspenders" were cut, along with a lot of others, principally on account of my connection with the B. of L.E.

Now, while I have got your attention, I want to say a word about my hobby. First, I want to indorse the sentiments of Brother Nixon in the February JOURNAL and of Brother Freenor in the March JOURNAL, and submit my plan. First, let us commence now to put in effect the recommendations of the Grand Chief in 1869, at least on that line; select some centrally located city, easy of access by rail, form a stock company, sell shares if necessary, and erect a commodious building for our offices, with an assembly room of sufficient capacity for our conventions. Inaugurate a plan of representation that will reduce the number of delegates to not over 200. My plan is by systems and on a mileage basis, each system or road to have a representative; on large systems one for each 1,000 miles or fractional part over 1,200 miles, two for 2,200 miles, three for 3,200 miles, and so on-these to be elected by and from the membership of the G. C. of A. and be paid by an equal taxation of all the members on the system. We would then have a body of representative men that would be easily handled and transact their business in a business manner, with credit to themselves and their constituents, and go home in less than half the time they now consume, at an enormous saving of expense. Eliminate from their program any and all entertainments that would necessitate the adjourning of the body. Allow no pay while delegates are absent from regular sessions.

Brother Freenor thinks his talk may sound harsh. It probably does to one who has not been there, but I want to say it is all truth and a condition that ought to be remedied at once.

I hope the membership at large will consider this matter seriously and take some

positive action at the next convention, and show themselves to be progressive and up to twentieth century ideas.

Fraternally yours,

H. G. RUST, Div. 234.

Progressive Condition of Div. 620.

MART, TEX, April 5, 1905.

EDITOR JOURNAL: Since the advent of Div. 620 we have existed under somewhat strained circumstances; but now I am glad we can announce quite a revival, having just initiated four of our most promising young men, with several more to follow.

We have had a goodly number of B. of L. F. runners who have hesitated to join the B. of L. E. on account of not being able to hold their membership in the B. of L. F. Some of those, in fact most of them, have decided to come in. Then again, this division of the I. & G. N. R. R. is new and unsettled and not a very desirable place to work. So some of the men who have come have not found it very smooth sailing and have left, causing new ones to have to come or firemen promoted, which has a tendency to hold us down. Of course, if we have them all, which we soon hope to have, we will not have a very large Division, but we expect to have one working in perfect harmony and following out the principles of the Brotherhood.

I have taken great interest in the JOURNAL this month, and I am very glad to see such interest manifested in the long hours men are kept on the road. We are having quite a taste of that here. Our hours are exceedingly long and we will gladly welcome the day when definite action can be taken to remedy it.

I trust that when a referendum vote is asked for again, the Brothers will be so awakened to the necessity of action that there will be a unanimous vote instead of just a majority.

I trust that those who are better writers and better talkers than myself will just keep agitating this matter and never stop until it has been accomplished.

Fraternally yours,

W. G. BAILEY, Div. 620,

Letter From a Retired Engineer to a Friend.

66

PLEASANT VALLEY, N. Y., March 2, 1905. MY DEAR DAN: You will likely be surprised to hear from me, as I have written very few letters to you or anyone else during my lifetime. Did not have the time, or had too many friends, or too many children to engage my attention, or, perhaps I was well enough satisfied with the way the world used me and did not concern myself with the affairs of others. If that is selfishness, Dan, then I plead guilty. Perhaps I would not write you now but for the fact that I have been retired from active service" and find time heavy on my hands. Yes, I was 65 last birthday, and received notice of my retirement on half pay three months ago. The boys gave me a blowout at the time. We had speechmaking and refreshments. Of course they gave the old man a good deal of taffy and (on the quiet, Dan) it didn't sound badly either. I confess I rather liked it. Dan, you will never know how much real good you have done in the world until you have been retired, and you will never know how extremely useless a man can be until after that event takes place. I will see that they give you a send-off when your time arrives. Hope you will enjoy it, and you will be surprised to be reminded of good deeds you have done in your day.

If you haven't done anything creditable in your life you may receive the compliment paid to a very bad citizen of our town who died some years ago. He was not only bad himself, but belonged to a family of no credit to the place, chiefly on account of their quarrelsome disposition, and as they possessed some fighting qualities and were extremely sensitive, as is frequently the case with such people, wise ones studiously avoided giving them offense. Now, it was the custom in that community in case of death to visit the home of the deceased, and upon being shown the corpse to say a prayer or make some complimentary remark regarding the departed one. Well, Dan, you never saw nor heard so much praying done in

your life over one man as was said over Dick Sheets in the couple of days he tarried with us. In fact, everybody prayed until Sam Kitchener arrived. Sam was ushered into the room where Dick lay, and as he gazed upon him realized the peril of his position, for to say anything uncomplimentary about Dick would be dangerous, as well as impolite, while to say anything really creditable would simply be a lie made out of whole cloth, and being a truthful man and having never learned any prayers he simply said, “Well, Dick was a fine smoker."

Speaking of smoking reminds me of the time when you and I went job hunting in the West when we were boys. Of course you recollect that we landed in a little town in Ohio about supper time one day almost famished. I possessed the finances of the party which amounted to five cents, and you agreed to go up into the town to buy something to save our lives. Well, you returned in due time, but instead of cheese and crackers you came swinging yourself jauntily down the road smoking a cigar. I don't know of anything we needed that evening less than a cigar, and when you agreed to give me the "snipe I thought it a pretty grim joke, or the "limit," as they say now, and I believe I impressed you in a rather forcible manner that I did not appreciate the humor of the situation. I have often relished the joke since and laugh to myself now as I think of it. I was a couple of years older than you then, which reminds me that it will not be more than that length of time until you will be a "has been " like myself. This retiring business may be all right when I get used to it, and I try to make myself and everyone else believe that I really enjoy it, but I can't say that I like it, Dan. Retirement for those who during their lifetime have cultivated a taste for art or ease may be all right, but to a case-hardened old fellow like me, whose whole time for the past forty years was spent in the service of a railroad com. pany, who during all that time talked, or thought, or read little or nothing but railroading, it is a different proposition.

I can hardly wait for the arrival of the

dear old JOURNAL, and I read it and reread it from cover to cover. It is the only railroading I do now.

I strolled down to the Union Depot today (don't go any place now, Dan, I simply stroll). I have no time card and little use for a watch, but anyway, I strolled down there and stood around like any idler would, gaping at things, and as I viewed them from a different position than formerly they really did interest me. I got there just as the Overland Mail pulled into the train shed. Jim Potts still pulls it, and when he stopped he spied me leaning against a baggage truck (I lean a great deal now, Dan), and without taking off his overclothes he came over to me and almost shook my arm off. It pleased me very much, and I felt flattered when in the presence of a number that were attracted by Jim's boisterous manner, he asked me if I thought it would improve the class of engine he was then running to give them larger eccentrics. Of course, Jim don't need any pointers from me about eccentrics, but being possessor of that rare instinct that marks the gentleman in any walk of life whether working in broadcloth or overalls, he appreciated the helplessness of my situation, and by his condescending manner afforded me a great pleasure. It is a refinement I cannot honestly claim, but I appreciate it in others none the less, especially in a big, bluff, rough and ready type of a man like Jim Potts. For the first time since the "blowout "I really felt as if I was still of some consequence. When Jim and I parted I hurried home to tell mother, and she was pleased to hear of my morning's experience and to note how it cheered me up, and when Jim's two boys passed on their way from school she gave each a big apple.

After reading the paper one afternoon I tiptoed out into the kitchen and found mother washing my dinner pail. I used to come in about that time on my run, and she was going through the regular routine of work just the same as if I was working. I asked her what she was so busy about and she pushed the pail over where I could not see it, kind of ashamed

like, to be caught doing anything foolish, and I didn't let on that I knew she was washing the bucket. I said we ought to have a hired girl, as she was getting too old to be puttering around the kitchen, but she said to me without looking around, "Land sakes, Jason, I do think you are getting childish. It wouldn't seem like home with a stranger in the house. You go down and fix the furnace, I think you men are awful foolish about some things." When I came back the dinner bucket was not to be seen, but mother was hustling about, busy as could be. She don't seem the same as before I was fired, or retired rather, and we are both lonesome for our children. They are all married, the nearest one living 200 miles away; we are going to visit the whole bunch soon, and as they are living in six different states, it will be quite a tour. All our girls married engineers, and that accounts for their being so scattered.

There was a time, you know, when an engineer went to bed all right and he might be out of a job when he woke up, but that is all changed now, and it is better for all concerned, I think. Our only boy, you know Ed, a big strapping fellow; well, you remember he went through a trestle with his engine at the time of the flood some years ago. Mother has never been the same since. Ed never got married, and though thirty-five years old at the time of his death, he was like a kid around the house. Mother drilled him as if he was a child, and he was as obedient as could be. Yes, she misses him, awfully. It is wonderful how attached a mother is to her boys, especially to an only son. Ed was wild enough in his time, but mother won him over by sheer force of kindness.

I went to the postoffice the other day and on the way saw Hank Lawson. He was retired about a year ago. He was standing on the curb looking out towards the lake with his hands behind his back, and he was rubbing and twisting them nervously. Hank always was a fidgety kind of a fellow, and he looked to me as if he was meditating suicide as he gazed out on the lake. so I thought I would

cheer him up. Hank's hobby, I knew, was valve motion. I first sneaked up behind him and, in a commanding voice said, "Move on," and upon my word, without looking around to see who spoke, he started off. Then I saw plainly the effect of being on the retired list for even one year, and I commenced to laugh. Then Hank, turning around, with a surprised look reached out his hand, and both laughed at the joke. We talked about the old days; went over and sat down on the steps of the postoffice and continued to talk. This was about 11 A. M. We soon drifted into a talk on engines, of course, and when valve motion was reached we were both working at short cut-off, and going smoothly, taking no note of the flight of time until reaching a point upon which we disagreed. Hank's run left here about the same time mine did, and as his road paralleled ours for the first ten miles out of here we often had a race, but I beat him so regularly that I never broached the subject in his presence. But, as I said before, we disagreed. On Hank's road they set the eccentrics on passenger engines the same in the back and forward motion, while on our road they are set so the valves are blind in back motion, to prevent excessive lead when lever is hooked up going ahead. He contended their plan was the best and I stood for ours Hank out with his pencil, and in a short time (can't say how long) had a note-book full of sketches of valve motion. He was having things pretty much to his own liking when I reached the point where in self-defense I was about to ask him if he ever experienced the pleasure of passing a passenger train on our road unless it was going in the opposite direction, when I suddenly thought better, and as graciously as I could told Hank I guessed he had the best of the argument, and you never saw such a pleased man in your life. Just then we heard the Limited go out. It leaves at 4 P. M. We had been talking railroad for five hours. We went home without calling at the post office and agreed to meet soon, as Hank proposed to talk the matter over again.

I thought mother would put me out at

my not coming home sooner, but she only said she was glad I found some one to entertain me, as I was getting to look so lonesome lately. She asked me if I got anything from the postoffice. I came the nearest in my lifetime to telling her a lie when I answered, "Not a thing." I believe, Dan, that idleness tends to produce moral weakness.

Well, the next time I meet Hank Lawson I will talk something else beside valve motion, or carry a lunch with me.

Regards from mother and me to yourself and family. Write soon. Fraternally,

JASON KELLEY.

Indiana State Legislative Board.

The General Assembly of the law enacters for the state of Indiana have adjourned and their acts will pass into history. As usual with these bodies, their sessions were more or less annoyed by advocates of different measures. The hirelings of corporate interests were there; the advocates of morality were there; men with personal schemes were there, and the briber was there. Representatives from the Trainmen, Firemen and State Federation were there; but where was the Brotherhood of Locomotive Engineers? Absent-because the law says that two-thirds of the Subdivisions of the state must vote in the affirmative before the board can be convened, and the Brothers were apparently careless and indifferent. So the secretary of the board did not get the necessary number until within three weeks of adjournment of the State Legislature. Then he and the chairman wisely decided that it was too late. Although the little band of lobbyists worked faithfully, they accomplished but little. They killed the Roemler Bill, which lawyers say would have run every labor organization out of the state. They also succeeded in getting the Erie Railroad management to agree to keep their Mother Hubbard engines out of the state; and they defeated the Garnishee Bill, which would have proven a curse to the poor laboring men; but they were not successful in their bills, which were as

follows: Fifty Car Bill, Requiring Three Men on a Train, the Mother Hubbard Bill, the Ash Pan Bill, the Automatic Bell Ringer Bill and the Weekly Wage Bill. It appears to me on reflection that matters pertaining to these bills, if there is merit in them, could be amicably arranged by Federated Boards in Train Service interviewing their respective railroad officials. The Ash Pan Bill is a jet of steam running through a pipe from the dome into the ash pan. An engine can be equipped with this device for less than $10, and it is expected to keep the ash pan clear of ashes, snow and ice, so that a man need not crawl under the engine except when there are clinkers in the pan. The engines of late build are hard to crawl under unless they are standing over a pit; and in case, for some unforeseen reason, the engine should be moved with a fireman underneath, his chances for escape are few; and the matter should be investigated and tested as to its merits.

As to the Fifty Car Bill, it seems to me that three brakemen are essential for signals, switching, breaking in two, doubling grades, or any unforeseen accident that is liable to occur. Had the other labor organizations done as the Brotherhood of Engineers did, we would have felt the power of Senator Woods, of Lafayette, and David M. Parry, also Frederick Matson, of Indianapolis. So, does it not behoove us to have our sentinels in the corridors of the State House during the biennial session of our Legislature? And furthermore, would it not be more in harmony with concert of action for our Legislative Boards to convene a couple of weeks before the Legislature does and outline their bills for their lobby, and send a copy to each Subdivision in their state for approval or rejection, and the bills that meet with approval from twothirds of the Subdivisions in the state be placed in the hands of the lobby, the rejected bills to be destroyed? This will check serious trouble between lobbyists and Brother engineers in the State House, and give us more unity and force in our undertakings. F. A. E., Div. 11.

Insurance Good Enough.

KANSAS CITY, Mo., April 8, 1905.

EDITOR JOURNAL: I wish I were educated so I could put my thoughts in words intelligently and comprehensive enough for all to grasp. I am tempted each month on reading my JOURNAL to assail some of the writers in vigorous terms and have hesitated so far, and now I am throwing myself out on the tide and hope I shall make a successful landing.

First, Bro. Geo. Conner says it was a mistake to add the Insurance feature to this grand labor organization. Was it a mistake to go into the thousands of homes we have with two or three thousand dollars to place a dead Brother's family above want? Is it a mistake to give a crippled Brother incapacitated from railroad work $1,500, $3,000 or $4,500? As for Brother Freenor's plan of endowment, I find no fault only this: It appears to me that the more we juggle with our insurance the more complicated it becomes.

I for one would be glad to go back to first principles of one policy $3,000, insurance optional with member, and that would have its sad features, for the wife and children of the game-loving Brother would be left in poverty at his death.

In the '70s I was afraid our organization was doomed on account of the large number of expulsions each month. Our insurance was down to $1,500, but praise our Father, right has triumphed and our order is bound to live. Our present policy of $3,000 cannot be secured of a line company for three times the amount it costs now, and fraternal orders outside the B. of L. E. are raising rates, so the old man must quit. Don't do it any more, Brother Conner.

There is but one thing in life, says the man of 70; but one thing in life says the man of 40; but one, answers the man of 20. The man of 20 says it is love; the man of 40 says success; the man of 70 says it is rest. Bro. Geo. A. Clark is right. Give us more rest; give us Sundays. Yes, Our lives are short enough. Examine your JOURNAL care