books in the running brooks, and good in everything." Away beyond the confines of creeds I paid silent tribute to the Creator, no matter by what name known, and I feel that on the general judgment day we hear so much about, when we'll all be rounded up and herded in the Valley of Jehoshaphat, or some other post mortem rendezvous, where the sheep are to be divided from the goats, I do not think my head will be decorated with a pair of horns, while others are twanging out music because they rolled up the whites of their eyes in a "holier than thou" frenzy within the confines of churches, listening to some narrow-minded shepherd. It may be that I may wake up and discover that I am making a tremendous mistake-well, even so, God is good. I have a few friends in the other place.

That same afternoon, a small party went to Santa Monica, where we got our first view of the Pacific Ocean. We went in one direction, passing the Soldiers' Home, and returned by Ocean View. While meandering around the sand beach I remembered having a couple of unfired shots in the kodak, and whether it was clannishness, coincidence, or some mental cohesion drew us all in a group who reside not more than 150 miles apart in the State of New York, I do not know, but here they are:

On the left is Sweetness, next is Mrs. Nevils of Utica, next Brother Martin of Syracuse, next Peck of Albany, next Bro. Hicks of Buffalo, and on the extreme right Mrs. Fogarty of Syracuse, all New York State productions, neither ashamed to tell it nor to show their faces in any gathering of good looking boys and girls, and only that I am applying the kodak, I'd be one of them, equally proud.

Amongst the many invitations we received to enjoy the hospitality of the good people of Los Angeles, we accepted but two. One of the two houses was the Kelly mansion; so on Sunday we bent our knees under the table of our hosts and gave praise to the cook, who was the most deserving to receive it. It was not articulated. It was manifested in the cleaning off of the dishes of about a dozen courses, and as I once said to a lady in Harrisburg, Pa., when dining at her house in company with our lamented Grand Chief, Brother Arthur, "The best compliment we can pay you is to have eaten everything served us," which we did, as Mrs. Kelly passed them on.

The ensuing Tuesday was the day of days in our memorable trip. Dick Kelly bossed the job, and did it well. Brother Ingraham, Brother Everett, Brother and and Mrs. Kelly, Mrs. Baker, wife of Brother Baker of Los Angeles, myself and wife, were up bright and early and at the station to take the train "around the kite," as the trip of 164 miles through the orange country is called, which has for its motto: "So scene twice seen."

When we got to Redlands we were joined by Mr. G. C. Thaxter, Secretary of the Redlands Board of Trade, making eight of us, all of whom were very comfortably seated in a three-seat canopy-top surrey, drawn by four horses, and shown the town.

Redlands is most properly named "The richest and most prosperous city in the largest county in the grandest state in the the most glorious country on earth." I cannot add to that, for the want of words. We were taken everywhere at a spanking pace. Under giant palms, live oaks, Japanese umbrella trees, pepper trees, walnuts and scores of others, up which ran the California poppies and other flowers, filtering the genial rays of the kindly sun as it kissed us with its perfume fresh from the petals. We were driven over drives where the genius of the landscape gardener festooned and trained the luxuriant growth in a bewildering way; and when we were going through Canon Crest Park, up the justly famed Smiley Heights, our flow of language ceased, and all the tribute we could pay the beauteous windings and delightful enclosures was the easily articulated request, "Look here!" "Look there!" "Oh, see the flowers climbing to the tops of the trees!" "Listen to the singing of the birds!" "Well, if heaven is like this I'll try to get there," and poor Ingraham, who made the remark, was summoned there less than a week afterward.

When we were taking our leave of Mr. Thaxter I perhaps was somewhat louder in my thanks for his labors in pointing

out places of interest to us than others. He silenced me by saying: "Your thanks have been given me every minute while in your company in the appreciative way you enjoyed all you saw. The gentle

man sent me a box of navel oranges last March, and they were of the choicest in kind and size. While they lasted, Ruth had a snap. She discarded her dolls, took a couple to bed with her each night, and cannibalized them ere morning.

The next stop was at Riverside. Again we had a most enjoyable drive through that beautiful place, and a dinner at the principal hotel to make the immortal gods and goddesses of Mount Olympus envious if they would not get an invite to partake. You didn't have to taste the goods to know what they were. They came dished up at one's call, but they never went back. We got away with them.

Once more in going around the kite, I found myself at San Bernardino, which the sports in Los Angeles had chronicled as the place of my detention. We were very cordially received by the hospitable people of the place anyway. Kelly's mug and mellifluous tongue seemed to be requisite to open the hearts and houses of the people we foregathered with the whole of that memorable day. We got back to Los Angeles on time and swapped lies in the various groups of the hotel till 24 o'clock, as they call the mid of night down around Riviere du Loup.

(Concluded in the September Journal.)

Letter from a Retired Engineer to a Friend.

PLEASANT VALLEY, N. Y., June 4, 1905. FRIEND DAN: Your welcome and interesting letter arrived yesterday. It contained news that was pleasing, and some that was sad. While I was pleased to know that you and yours were well and happy, I was very sorry to learn of the death of our mutual friend, Hank" Lennan. Poor Henry! We fired together on the "Central " and he went west shortly after being promoted. The newspaper clipping you enclosed states that he ran into the rear of a freight train that was not protected by flag, and that he was the only one on the passenger train that was injured, the fireman saving himself by jumping. There is also the usual amount of praise for the engineer whose heroic conduct in "sticking to his post is given as the sole reason why the passengers and trainmen escaped injury.

Well, Dan, there is no denying the fact that vigilance and prompt action on the part of the engineer have often prevented loss of life and property, but it is to be regretted that so many of our men have needlessly sacrificed their lives, and bearing some marks to prove having been there

myself, I feel competent to express myself on that matter.

I believe it is neither poor judgment nor a desire to be heroic that prompts a man to stay on his engine in the face of positive danger; it is rather the complete elimination of self in the matter when lives or property are in danger, or it might be called an overpowering sense of duty. The very nature of the engineer's service, his being left largely to his own judg ment and honor in the discharge of his duties, tends to develop a spirit of self sacrifice. It is shown in his daily service when he takes advantage of opportunities to further the company's interests, often when inconvenience or even decided discomfort to himself may result, and in the light of that fact it is not surprising that during a long term of service the sense of duty, together with a deep rooted though slightly exaggerated idea of the need of his presence at all times, grows upon the engineer even to the extent of causing him to remain on his engine in the face of positive danger, after exhausting every possible effort to avert disaster.

The speed of trains nowadays is not consistent with safety, Dan. The railroad officials say the public want to go from Chicago to New York in eighteen hours. Should the foolish public be humored even to the extent of reducing the margin of safety already none too wide on American railroads? I think not. I notice in discussing the subject of high speed, the only question considered seems to be the propelling power. The public and the press want to know only how fast can locomotives be made to haul their trains, while the real measure of safe speed should be the stopping power.

I observe these things perhaps more than you, Dan, since I am out of the service, but I know you will agree with me when I say that any train is a dangerous one that cannot be stopped within reasonable distance in an emergency, or runs at such extremely high speed that ordinary derailment causes it to smash to pieces.

I am told that there is a motto hung in the cabs of the engines on the new fast trains between Chicago and New York, reading in substance as follows: "Let Safety Be Your First Consideration." That is, of course, all right, Dan, as a sentiment, but for practical purposes the following might be made more fitting: "Be Careful, But Make the Time."

You asked about "Old Man " Henderson in your last letter. He died several years ago. The latter part of his life he spent on a farm situated close to the city. I believe he was an ideal official, the best superintendent of machinery I ever knew. He was strict without being harsh, and while directing others led the way

himself. If he recommended (not demanded) any practice to his engineers, he showed them the philosophy of it, the why of it, and he usually got the results sought. His administration of affairs in the motive power department here for over ten years was a campaign of education, and he developed a class of engineers that are a living monument to his technical skill, as well as his ability to manage men. I will never forget my first meeting with him. It was shortly after I had commenced to "run passenger." While oiling around in front of the old depot I noticed a well dressed elderly man watching me, and when I had finished and placed the oil can on the deck of tender, he came closer and asked me how long I had been running an engine. I said about fifteen years. He then asked what type of engine. I answered, "Eight wheel." Then said he, "During that fifteen years you have no doubt oiled an engine around with your hand oiler on an average twice a day, omitting Sundays, which makes the number of times you have "oiled around,' 9,450, and I suppose you can tell me how many oiling places the eight-wheel engine has, or how many bearings that are oiled with the hand oiler. I thought I knew the whole thing in those days, Dan, but I was stumped, and I told him so.

"Well," said he, "that's strange, but I can tell you something stranger still," and with a humorous twinkle in his eye he said, "I ran this type of engine for nearly thirty years and I never knew." "I will admit," he added, "that the question is not an important one, but it serves to show how little we know about things to which we have not applied our minds, and the difference in the skill of engineers is due more to the measure of their mental application than to any superior natural ability or educational advantages, for one could know the number of oiling places by simply counting them once while oiling, and many things of real importance can be as easily known by close application or inquiry into the Why' and the When' and the "How' of things." I was trying to think how you came to know him and I just recall to mind that he ran on the Mountain Division during your time there.

A few days later an "Official Notice" informed us that Mr. W. G. Henderson was made superintendent of motive power of our road, and he proved to be the right man for that time and place, for things were simply running themselves, while discipline was something unknown until he took the reins of management. I will tell of an incident that occurred about that time just to illustrate the utter disregard for official authority in those days on the "Midland." One day shortly

after his arrival among us Mr. Henderson saw Jim Judson coming down Main street with an uncertainty of stride and direction that plainly indicated too much inside lap, and he suspended him for ten days. On the following day Jim concluded he would go to work, so he went to the roundhouse where the "Old Man " spied him tinkering about the engine, and he said to him, "Judson, don't you know that you are suspended?" Without looking up from what he was doing, Jim answered in the most unconcerned manner possible, "You're the only one I ever heard say anything about it. He certainly had an unlikely lot to drill, but he worked wonders in the ten years he remained with us, and when he retired we felt that we had lost a friend.

Of course, there has been a general change for the better among railroad men of all the departments of the service of late years, and in saying this I am reminded of my visit to Cleveland last fall. I went to attend the Union Meeting, and, incidentally, to look up some old acquaintance of our people who had moved out here a good many years ago. They had lived in our town during the time when the railroad man was rather "sidestepped” by polite society. During the time when the coming of the pay car was a matter of decided uncertainty, and an event looked long and anxiously forward to by proprietors of "beaneries," "hasheries," and other places where joys and sorrows were frequently submerged, if not actually drowned, not omitting the " sheeney,' the railroad man's banker, the earliest bird of all who usually got the worm. In the days when in passing almost any railroad boarding house about the time of the arrival of the pay car one was likely to be struck by a grip, a box of paper collars or other articles of light baggage thrown from the windows by some knight of the rail who had stayed his limit. To be brief, Dan, it was during the "Stone Fence" and stogie period when chewing tobacco was purchased at the grocery store just like any other article of household merchandise, and was "charged on the book."

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Well, Dan, this acquaintance of ours whom I visited in Cleveland at the time of the Union Meeting lived in our town, as I said before, in the days already mentioned, but left there before the reformation, and being extremely nice folks they had, not without some slight reasons, acquired the impression that the railroad people were horrid;" so mother, after dressing me up (as I told her as slick as a confidence man), made me promise to visit the "Hawkinses" and to take the old gentleman down to the meeting to see some of my friends. I did so. I called

on the family and think I made a fair impression, in spite of the fact that I was away from home over night, alone, and had to tie my four-in-hand myself in the morning. It is wonderful how handy a wife can make herself to a man, and I never realized it more fully than this morning. I will go to bed with my collar on after this when away from home, or buy some other kind of tie, but mother says the four-in-hand is the correct thing, and mother knows. Well, Dan, after making my good impression, I invited my friend to take a walk down town, for I wanted him to meet some of my friends and he did so. I introduced him to all the Grand Officers and everyone else I knew. I was proud of every one of them. The old man enjoyed making the acquaintance of such model types of good citizenship, and in my enthusiasm I had about carried the old fellow off his feet, so when I thought the time opportune, I exclaimed in my most forceful manner, "Now what do you think of the locomotive engineers?" I was disappointed at not receiving a prompt answer. He reflected a moment, and in that moment visions of flying grips, hand to hand encounters, the impromptu glee clubs, and other features of long ago flitted in panoramic view before his mind's eye. He had been very deeply and unfavorably impressed in his youth, and early impressions are lasting; but when I pressed him for an answer to my question he said, "Jason, I have enjoyed my visit with you very much. I am pleased to have met with men of such intelligence and manly bearing, but when you ask me what I think of the locomotive engineers, you ask a broad question, and answering it as broadly as possible, I will say that, judging from those whom I saw and met this morning, I am constrained to say that you remind me of the farmer with strawberries to sell, you have put the best ones on top."

When I returned home, one of the first things mother asked me was what our old friend thought of the engineers he had met with, and when I told her she laughed long and loud, ending her hilariousness by saying, Jason, dear, I fear the 'Scot' was too much for you.' Mother, you know, was a lassie herself.

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I will bid you good night, Dan. When you write let me know how Pete Daily is getting along. I understand he was injured the other day. Give him my regards. Write soon. JASON KELLEY.

A Glass Diamond Reminder.

SPOONER, GA., July 3. 1905. EDITOR JOURNAL: In searching through my desk a few days ago for some valuable papers that had been misplaced, I

came across an old relic of the Pittsburg Convention which refreshed my memory of the good old time and pleasure I had while in the Smoky City. It was a large (glass) diamond ring presented to me by our old and esteemed Brother Nat Sawyer, to offset the presentation of the pure diamond stud to Mickey Free by the Ladies' Auxiliary.

I have often thought of my donor, and had lost sight of it, but hereafter I intend to keep it as a sacred token of my esteem for our departed Brother Sawyer. It reminds me of many pranks played upon him because he was a favorite of a great majority of the delegates on account of his seemingly young ways, full of life and fun. Again I have to laugh and feel sorry, too, for the fun I had with him; when he made himself a paper cap in the hall and as soon as he put it on, I put a match to it and set it on fire on his head, and he took it all in good part, as it did not injure his head of hair.

Mickey was another favorite with the boys, but they were afraid to play pranks on him. Perhaps you remember the cir cumstance when I put the rubber snake in his paper in the hall during the evening session, and he was about to nail me with a chair, which stopped my pranks with him.

Poor Shandy, I am sorry for the socalled troubles he had to the Pacific Coast last year. If I only had him out here on the farm I think I could make him forget a great many of them by taking him into my Georgia rattlesnake patch and let him make his selection of a 40-pounder if he chooses. It's not the rattlesnakes that Shandy would fear, as mine is the Georgia rattlesnake watermelon: we have acres of them. From the melon patch I will show him into the dining-room three times a day and fill him full of all kinds of vegetables fresh from the garden, country smoked and cured hams, even smoked sow-belly, if he chooses, which is my choice. After he is tired of all this, I will commence on fine fish caught at home, but not such as he needs under his present condition. We have no whales here, but smaller ones, perhaps, that will answer the purpose if enough are eaten; but I really am not prepared to say at this writing whether our fish here is good brain food or not; but, Shandy, it will not hurt you to make me a visit and try it, as I am satisfied myself and better half can make it pleasant and interesting for you during your stay with us.

I want some of my good Eastern Brothers to see how smooth a Georgia country life is, but please don't say anything about the grass you find on my farm, because it is no fault of mine. I never planted it-it seems to be a natural volunteer plague of

its own; they call it crab-grass, but it should be called grab-grass, for it has no respect of persons, and is, it seems, without scruples; so much so that it has federated with another growth called Eliza's plague, somewhat on the pusley order, but it doesn't plague Eliza alone, it devils me, and my name is Ben.

If by chance you would come in the fall, I then can interest you right, as my syrup making will commence in November and perhaps will last thirty days, as it did last year. I made 60 pounds last crop, and will have a good making this crop if luck doesn't turn against me; so by coming then I can sweeten up your frowns from your trip to California, but if they have reverted into wrinkles, I don't say I can smooth them, that is, on your face, but around your belt I can guarantee to smooth them until they will stand out like a fifer's eye.

I have been trying to get some of my Western Brothers to visit me, but they all seem to be on the extra list and afraid to lose a trip for fear of the wolf presenting himself at the door. One good Brother did come from San Antonio to see us, that is, he had to run away, and not knowing where to go, fortunately landed at my house, where I cared for him until he could go back home. I never could find out why he ran away from home, as he has one of the pleasantest women for a wife I ever met and two sweet little boys. I wish he would run away again and head himself this way and let the wife and two boys follow him. I would give anything to see them in a big melon patch.

There are several members of Div. 197, to which I belong, that if they wished, could come out here and have a good time; but no, sir, some good extra Brother would get the money he lost on the visit on his engine or run. During my twenty-nine years' service with the G. H. & S. A. R. R., now the S. P., I made twenty-eight trips to this state in December on a visit, taking thirty days at each lay-off except one, when I took only fifteen, and my run was worth $175 per month; but between December and December I never laid off unless something unusual occurred, and I lived and am still living; but there is no extra list here to look out for. I wish there was, so the madam would not have to make me make an extra trip every morning to drive up the yearlings for her to milk. I don't mean she milks the yearlings, but their mothers. I can get along with them until I make a bad step and fall, which I do frequently, and then I take a layoff for a spell and she either takes the trip herself or sends our big boy if he is not out already.

Now, Brother Editor, if Shandy's name

LOS ANGELES, CAL., July 1, 1905. EDITOR JOURNAL: I am pleased to read so many good letters on suggestions to better our insurance. I believe it is the duty of every member to have those different plans discussed in the Division, and in that way agree on some plan for the delegate to bring before the convention at Memphis. When planning to improve our insurance laws, age (except as explained in our laws) or any Brother's circumstances, gives no preference. This has been a stumbling block in the way of changes. The Ohio insurance law has been overworked to defeat many unwise changes and some good ones. Not hearing any objections to change making special assessment at last convention a law, I suppose all are satisfied. While I never heard of a specific case where a wait of 60 days worked material hardships, I am in favor of this special assessment. I believe we can use this special assessment plan to do a great amount of good and none of us will ever miss the amount we advance. My plan is to levy two assessments each year of 50 cents on each $750 of insurance; that would give about $55,000 for each assessment, or $110,000 for year. We will now take 225 of the oldest continuous policies, and pay $500 on each of them. Pay a like sum each year, this amount to be treated as a loan until $1,500 is paid, when one policy would be canceled. During the time of those partial payments, should a claim become due, it would be paid in the usual way, amount deducted and returned to the special fund the same as funeral expenses are now deducted; assessments to run the same as now until the policy or policies are canceled. (Policies would be for $3,000 or $1,500 for years to come.) This would call for an assessment of 8%, 16%, 33% and 50 cents per month (a very small assessment), $1, $2, $4 and $6 a year on the four classes of policies now in force.

The Brothers that this would reach have been loyal to the B. of L. E. and insurance for 30 years or more, paid in when their policies were only worth one-half face value. They are near end of run and will soon have to be paid for anyway.

As a business proposition, it is nothing wasted and gives us a chance to build for our own future at small expense. It would put premiums on loyalty. I believe that