mountain states, rattling along towards the coast, I was almost sick thinking of the blasted anti-pass agreement between railway officials that held me captive behind. I would not pay our fare to go, owing more to the life-long prejudice I held against buying stock in the passenger department of roads than a miserly feeling of self-denial. My better half had no such scruples, and would insist on going at any cost, only that I worked the Desert racket all it would stand.

On the 5th of May, six days before the public opening of the sixth biennial in Los Angeles, Bro. Frank Townsend, a passenger engineer on the Lackawanna, running between Binghamton and Oswego, N. Y., came into the Oswego yard with his train, and as he always can give a man intelligent answers to any questions he is asked, I went up to him as he was standing at the water tub and said:

"Frank, on what conditions did the delegates from our road go to the convention as regards transportation?"

66

"They went on passes for themselves and wives."

"What?" said I, in a voice he very distinctly heard above the popping of his engine, which was sufficiently loud to blow the clouds off the sky.

"I told you, and you heard me."
"Who furnished the passes?"
"General Superintendent Clarke."

I was knocked galley west with the news. It was entirely unexpected. I was shaping my actions regarding going by the news given me by New York Central men, and never gave any thought to home folks at all.

I sat at my desk and wrote our General Superintendent inside ten minutes after talking with Townsend, requesting a pass for myself and wife to Los Angeles and return. Inside twenty-four hours I got this reply:

"Your letter received. I have requested passes in favor of yourself and wife to California and return, but fear it will be some time before they are received, as some of the passes have to be obtained from a considerable distance.

Yours truly, T. E. CLARKE, G. Sup't."

When I read that brief note, I became frenzied about the head and wanted to jump skyward to exhaust some of my suddenly generated enthusiasm. I was like some poet's description of how he felt when he got his first kiss from his heartache:

"I felt the pressure of her timid kiss;

What then to me were groans or pains or death? Earth was a round of bliss;

I seemed to walk on thrones."

On this occasion I ran, yes, as swiftly as my legs could carry me, to my humble domicile and darted in through the open door. My eyes no sooner beheld my old girl than I screamed out, utterly regardless of her alarmed look at my excited appearance: "Get ready for California!"

I had a nervous collapse on my hands in short order, and I began to think I was a close relation to the quarryman who was selected by the boss to break the sad tidings in a gentle manner to a woman whose husband had been killed. He did it this way:

He knocked at the door. opened it.

66

A lady

"Are you the Widow Nolan?" said he. She replied: My name is Nolan, sir, but I am not a widow."

"Indeed you are, ma'am; here comes Larry home on a door to you."

In a little while I was asked: "What do you mean about getting ready for California?"

"Listen." Then I read Mr. Clarke's letter, and at its conclusion I was asked: 'And what about the Desert ?

66

"Oh, blast the Desert! Don't let that bother you. I have learned today that it is only in September that there is any inconvenience crossing it."

Are you deceiving me?"

"That's a thing I never did since I paid his reverence 10 dollars to couple you on to me, and it is too late to do it now." "When do we start?

"It will take about ten days to get the passes here. The convention will be but about as many days old when we shall arrive there, and it will be about the right time to reach there as the crowd of visitors will be all fairly well scattered to other places sightseeing by that time."

Life had assumed a more genial enjoyment for me when I found it possible to get to the coast; and in the evenings of beautiful May, when the trees were burgeoning out in leafy bloom after a severe winter's nakedness, we used to sit in the gloaming, talking of the coming trip with sincere pleasure. I brushed up my geography, and related the experience I had of mountain climbing at the time of the Denver Convention, when the Union Pacific gave us an excursion to Silver Plume, up the celebrated loop route, where the altitude was such that it was distressing to even think laboriously. I did not know of the route we were to take from Chicago, as I could not look a gift horse in the mouth. I was satisfied to get there going any old way, but I presumed on going by the way of Marshall Pass or the Royal Gorge, and I used to be fluent telling of the ascent of the trains crossing the mountains, going up from the green of the fields to timber line and above it, yet ascending towards perpetual snow line, reaching the summit, and then going down the other side, every mile taking us nearer to that beautiful clime of perpetual summer and verdure and the Pacific Ocean, and impatiently awaiting Mr. Clarke's passes.

On the evening of the 10th, as usual, we were at the same subject without the slightest diminution of interest, I leading:

"About now there is a mighty throng in the rotunda of the Hollenbeck handshaking, kissing and helloing. How I wish we were there!"

"Yes, indeed," she replied, "And if you only made an effort to get there on time you might have been one of the crowd, and I another. You think you are smart, but you have lots to learn, and the quicker you begin to remember that 'God helps those that help themselves' the better off you will be."

That was a dig in the ribs, and I knew why I got it. I was preparing to get back when ting-a-ling-a-ling went the 'phone bell. I put the receiver to my ear and was asked, "Is this 24?"

"Yes."

"This is the Postal Telegraph office. I

have a message for you. Do you desire it sent up or will you take it now? "I didn't attach much importance to it so I replied, 'Fire away."

"Your letter to R. W. Kelly. Call at Railway Exchange Building, Chicago, where you will find pass for yourself and wife from there to Los Angeles and return. (Signed) A. G. WELLS."

I hung up the receiver and said: "Did you hear that?" My face, nerves and voice being in about the same condition they were when I got Mr. Clarke's letter.

"Oh, yes; don't talk so terribly loud. If I were dead I could hear you. What does it mean?

"It means that we go to California by the Santa Fe. That a pass for us has been wired me from Los Angeles by Mr. A. G. Wells, the General Manager; and it means furthermore that you have just two days to get ready, as I will have my arrangements made by that time.

(To be continued.)

A Noted Excursion.

DETROIT, MICH., Jan. 3, 1905. EDITOR JOURNAL: Owing to the fact that the B. of L. E. was organized by engineers on the M. C. R. R. at the time Mr. A. S. Sweete was Superintendent of Motive Power, some of your readers may imagine him a tyrant without an equal, which is decidedly wrong. There is no doubt that when he first came to Detroit some good men lost their jobs, just as they did on every road when there was a change of officers; but as a man, I guess he would stand equal with the best officials of his time. The writer first came directly under Mr. Sweete's supervision in 1869, having been transferred from Marshall to Detroit, and continued to serve under him until he died in 1873, and knows of many acts of kindness and charity of his, for few engineers went to him with a hard-luck story and were turned away; but they never had to ask their neighbors what the "old man" thought of them, as they were informed before the interview closed. His advice to young

ENGINE RUBY, DECORATED FOR THE BOSTON BOARD OF TRADE TRAIN, 1870.

men was, don't drink; just so much as you do, just so much it will drag you down.

Mr. Sweete was devoted to his family and an active member of Detroit Commandery, K. P., and a vestryman of St. Paul's P. E. Church, in which he took much interest, and to show that he swore from habit, not because he was vindictive towards his men, I will relate the following:

With the late Bishop McCloskey, he was superintending the trimming of St. Paul's for Easter service, and he caused ladders to be spliced to reach the high Gothic ceiling; but when raised, they were too short to reach the point he desired, which vexed him, and turning to the Bishop he said, "I didn't think the G-d d-n church was so high!"

On another occasion after one of the usual stormy interviews with a young engineer, he asked what he had to say, to which the poor fellow replied: "Mr. Sweete, you have abused me the meanest and used the best language I ever heard," and he went right back to work; and of eight locomotive superintendents that the writer has served under, Mr. Sweete was quite up to the average from the employees' point of view, and when he died there was not a man in his employ who did not feel that he had lost a personal friend. The picture was taken shortly before that sad event.

In my mind, his greatest fault was in not investigating a case more thoroughly before passing judgment. But he was in service as an official when all of his class presumed to have a right to run his business in his own way, and to hire and discharge whom and when he pleased. The practice of all officials in that period was of a character to make men desire some means of guarding their personal interests, make their places more secure as employees, and conditions of service better in all respects, and they joined together for this purpose, and the B. of L. E. is the result; but it does not necessarily cast any reflection upon Mr. Sweete, who was serving during the constructive period, when all men con

nected with railroads were in school, and the one who was a dull student was superseded by others with better talents. But Mr. Sweete remained, while he lived, and during the time of his service saw great advances in all direction, and when the time came for the wonderful feat of going by rail from Boston to San Francisco, none were more interested than Mr. Sweete, who supervised the decoration of the engine "Ruby," which pulled the Boston Board of Trade train from Detroit to Chicago, and I believe this was the first solid train from Boston to San Francisco. The decorations on the engine were such as the best decorating artist could bring out. The stack was painted so as to represent a crimson drape with gold fringe and looped up with cord and tassel. The picture of Mr. Jas. F. Joy, President of the M. C. R. R., was in the head lamp. The false front end was a picture of the landing of the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock. The shields between the drivers were a copy of the great seals of the States of Massachusetts and California. The side of the tank was a picture of Eagle Rock on the line of the U. P. R. R., and on the four lower corners of the tank a birdseye view of the cities Detroit, Boston, Chicago and San Francisco. Owing to the train being heavy, a doubleheader had to be used.

Engineer George Roby had charge of the " Ruby; " he stands at right of pilot, and Thomas Kent, who ran the engine "Persian," at the left. They were both members of Div. No. 1. At one time Mr. Sweete rode with the engineer to Chicago.

The "Ruby" was a Manchester engine and of course without lubricator, air brake and other later improvements.

I recall a poem that appeared in the B. of L. E. JOURNAL on this occasion, composed of eleven verses, by the C. E. of Div. 18, the last four reading, viz.:

"From proud New England's boasted Hub,
By you, on iron bands;

The Board of Trade in one short week,
In San Francisco lands.

"Then honor them who guide and guard,
As well as them who feed;
And labor faithful night and day.
On this metallic steed.

"Their watchful eyes and steady nerves

Guard well the rushing train; Which brings to fond and anxious ones, The loved one home again.

"Then recognize and treat them well,
And assist them in their course;
That they may be the best of men,
Who guide the iron horse."

C. A. HARKINS, Div. 1.

Why These Seventy-Six Names?

ROCHESTER, N. Y., Jan. 12, 1905. EDITOR JOURNAL: Why do so many allow themselves to get in arrears for dues or assessments? Seventy-six names in the January JOURNAL as expelled or suspended for non-payment of dues or assessments, and I would be willing to wager that the majority of those seventysix Brothers will be scrambling to get back into good standing again. Why, then, allow yourselves to become delinquent?

The railroad company pays you promptly for your services, why not pay your dues and assessments just as promptly? If paid monthly, when you receive your pay check, the expense is hardly noticed, but when you pay for several months at one payment, it "pulls."

Remember that it takes money to keep the Division going. It takes money to pay the Grievance Committee and they earn every cent they get.

Remember the B. of L. E. makes it possible for you to get the wages you are getting. Without the B. of L. E. you would only have been able to earn laborer's pay, $1.50 per day. To the B. of L. E. you are indebted for all you get over and above $1.50 per day, and it took money to do it.

Do you begrudge the small amount it costs each month to keep the ball a-rolling? If you do, you should have no place in the organization and by rights should be obliged to work for the $1.50 per day. Did you ever stop to think how much it costs to get a schedule? You will be surprised if you have not thought about it and will wonder how it was done at so little expense to each member. If the dues and assessments are not paid, it

means no Division, and that means no schedule, and no schedule means take what they choose to give you and say nothing, and that means, "Each one for himself, and the devil take the hindmost."

Go to the Division meetings and take an interest in what business comes up. It is your affair; why do you leave it for some one else to look after? It has been said that nine out of ten railroad men are incompetent to attend to their own business affairs. The Division is a mighty important business affair of yours, if you only know it. Why not look after it? It means dollars and cents to you. The Division makes it possible for you to pay the grocer and the baker and the candlestick maker. It makes it possible for you to provide a good and comfortable home for your family and to enjoy many luxu ries. If that is not important affairs of yours, what is? And remember, the dues and assessments are the price you pay for the privilege of being able to do these things. It takes money "to make the mare go," and to keep the Division going, and the Division makes it possible for you to pay your dues and assessments to the Division.

"When a fellow has spent his last red cent, The world looks blue, you bet!

But give him a dollar and you'll hear him holler, There's life in the old world yet!

For money's the comforts after all,

No matter what the cynics say;
And the world will stick to you when you fall,
If it finds you can pay your way."

The Division will stick to you, too, when you fall by the wayside, if you will only keep square on the books.

Pay up, Brothers, and don't let your name go into the list of expelled for non-payment of dues. Remember the 47,000 members in good standing, each and every one of them will have a JOURNAL with your name in the expelled list. How pleasant to have some acquaintance meet you and greet you with, "Hello, Tom! I see your name in the JOURNAL as being expelled for non-payment of dues. What's the matter with you? You are working every day. Can't you pay your just debts?"