"Sorry, old man, but that light was pretty close."

"Aren't you going to dry out again?” asked the fireman as he crawled up behind me.

"What's the use," I asked. "I understand there are more rivers between here and Buffalo."

My nerves were threatening to become settled again, when I sprang from the seat, bumping my head against the roof of the cab as two reports seemingly as loud as a cannon's were heard directly beneath the engine.

"Some one dynamite us?" I asked. "Nop, torpedoes. That's a warning to look out for something in the block ahead,"

"Why don't you do it?"
"Thirty-five minutes late."

"Bang," came a third report, and on went the emergency air again. This time we ran plump up to the rear of a freight, stopping in front of a small telegraph station. Wheelock reached from the cab and grasped a yellow order

which read "No. 72," that was the freight, "will run ahead of No. 26," that was us, "to Dunkirk."

A second order read: "No. 26 will pass No. 72 in the block at Dunkirk."

The engineer swore softly, and a fresh plug disappeared into his left cheek as he pulled the throttle and began crawling after No. 72. When we finally drew into the Buffalo yards, thirty-five minutes late, with my jumpers half burned off, my face as black as tar, and the constant roar as loud as a thousand thunderstorms in my head, I asked Wheelock:

"Am I a hoodoo?"

"I'm not superstitious," he answered laconically. "But say, young man, you were to take the same trip every night for a hundred years you would never get another experience like that."

"One's enough, thank you," I replied as I tumbled seven feet to the ground and scampered for my Pull

man.

"During the winter of '83-84, on the Evanston division of the Union Pacific, it kept us quite busy keeping the road open with the old fashioned snow-plows. I went out myself, and personally helped the boys to run the plow, and as Pawnee Bill had been out something like about sixty hours bucking the snow I suggested that he go back to the caboose and get a cat nap, until we reached Evanston. I got up on the right-hand side, set the lever about two notches below the center, pulled the 'bone out' (throttle full length), and never shut off for snow, live-stock, or any other obstruction. The Black Diamonds' were being shovelled in at a great rate by the head brakeman, who had relieved the fireman for half an hour or so, and we were sailing along about fifty miles an hour, when in rounding a curve down the hill, I noticed

two cow brutes about the middle of the track. I did not shut off, but gave the throttle another vigorous yank. Well, sir, we picked up the cattle on that plow which was carrying tons of snow. I looked up expecting to see both animals go over the smoke stack, but didn't notice it at all. I shut off, called for brakes, stopped, backed up to where we had struck the cattle, and behold! There they stood not over two hundred feet away, bawling, with no apparent inconvenience from their recent shock. got off that engine, went forward, and looked the plow over to see if it was an optical illusion. There was the imprint of both cattle in the snow on the plow. It had picked them up bodily, and set them out clear, absolutely uninjured.

I

'Pawnee Bill,' the half-breed engineer, got one on me later. It was on the same division, and after the snow

had all gone in the spring of the year. Bill was going west on train seven, and ran into a band of sheep, killing seventyeight head, but never made any report of it. The owner of the herd had Tim Coonrod make a special report. Tim was section foreman at the point on the line, and the section house was only a few hundred yards from where they killed the sheep. Tim said to me: 'Personally, Misther Dickinson, I saw thim wid me own oiyes. That haythen injun who runs injine two twinty-siven, Pawney Bill, came by about foive A. M. in the mornin' as Oi wus tellin' you befur in my lether of explanatum. I wuz called airly this perticler mornin' on important bizness. I saw the whole thing as plin as the nose on me face. I saw Bill Pawnay run schmack into thim and the whole counthry round had shape to ate fer at least a munth.' 'Well,' said I to Tim, 'You remain here, and I'll send the call-boy down to the roundhouse, and bring Bill up here, and we'll have this thing straightened out.' Bill came in, and I began to interrogate him again about having killed those sheep. He said: 'Why, Mr. Dickenson, I never killed any sheep.' He had not noticed Tim in the corner until I spoke, and asked him to please relate for Mr. Pawnee Bill's benefit, what he had seen on the morning of date, opposite section house-—ɔn train seven, engine 227. Tim, at my request, related the whole incident, as he remembered it, I noticed Bill's face grow very red before Tim had finished, his black eyes flashing like coals of fire, and his mind seemed to be conjuring up some mode Tim had finished. 'Well,

of escape.

George W. Dickenson began his early railroad career when quite a boy in Ohio, and came west to Omaha in '69, about the time the Union Pacific was being constructed across the plains to Ogden Utah. He remained with them with various positions, as despatcher conductor, train master and Superintendent, and from there he came to the Northern Pacific some years ago as Asst. General Supt., which position he held until a few years ago. From what I know personally of the man, if the managers of Our American railroads were to treat their employes as well and as justly as he did, they would receive standard pay for standard services, and it would not be necessary for trainmen to kick for seniority and keep grievance committees on the "qui vive" between the employes and the officers on the various roads, at a great expense to the employes. During the past thirty years of experience and observation, the writer has known only a very few railway officials like Mr. Dicken

son.

He is now the President of the Alaska Central, which is pushing the construction of over 300 miles in length in the far north, and I hope within the next 18 months to be able to give the readers of THE RAILWAY CONDUCTOR a few photographic and pen sketches along the line of that far northern road.

There is a growing tendency manifested in various ways to regard work as merely a means of reaching a state of idleness, but this tendency, quite needless to say, does not obtain to any marked degree among the sturdy sons

of toil who make up the vast majority of the readers of THE RAILWAY CONDUCTOR. The prevailing mental attitude seems to be that the only standard of success is riches, and that the only way to attain happiness is with the

least possible exertion to become a man of leisure and to be able to dawdle through life with nothing to do. It requires but little examination of the real basis of happiness, or a knowledge of human nature, and the conditions under which we are placed, which we are, to show the falsity of this position.

Man is constituted an active being, seeking expression of his character and tastes, and, if he would continue to exist and to progress, must labor. His highest dignity lies in honest, faithful labor, and through it alone can he find scope for the exercise of his best faculties or for the adequate expression of his individuality. When we linger in admiration before a great work of art, it is not so much for what is represented as because we recognize that the artist has put into it something of himself, showing us how some one who sees better than we has looked at something, and the loving, careful, painstaking toil he has bestowed in representing it. Nowhere does character come out more unmistakably than in the daily task, it matters not how trivial it may seem; and from no other source does there come such genuine satisfaction as from the consciousness of work well done and thoroughly well done. It matters not whether it is painting of a picture, the preparation of a railroadaccident law case, the keeping of a set of books, the making of a pair of shoes or a shirt, the cooking of a dinner, or the running of a first-class railroad express train. Whoever does it in the best way, with love for his work and honest devotion to it in the interest of his employer, will get the best results and find his reward in it. If it has been done merely to get through with it, wholly for mercenary considerations,

it is bound to show for what it is. One of the greatest benefits of machinery lies in the fact that it is diminishing all the time the work which from its nature is merely drudgery, the digging and drilling and the moving of great masses of material, leaving for man more and more only those employments which require individual skill, and into which can be put something of individuality,

capacity and character. It is for this reason that we all recognize the superiority of hand-made clothing and shoes and various articles of daily use, and it is encouraging to note in different parts of the country the growth of what is known as societies of arts and crafts, which train girls and women in village and rural communities to do all sorts of useful and ornamental work by hand, from the same simple and beautiful designs which were used by their grandmothers, and with the same thoroughness which characterized them. In their time, everything was made by hand, and distinction was won by her who did the most in the best and most lasting and artistic way.

There has existed, and still exists to some extent, a false sentiment that labor is degrading or belittling. The contrary is true. An ideal condition of society can come only when every member of it recognizes that he is bound to exercise whatever skill or strength or faculty he or she posses to its full capacity-not selfishly or for the sake of gain merely, but for his own happiness and development and for the benefit of all.

In the ideal society there will be no place for the idle rich or for mere pleasure-seekers. Each man will have his allotted task, whether he be rich or poor, and will perform it gladly and well; and when all labor and do their part there will be sufficient leisure for all for recreation and cultivation, and there will be no more grinding poverty. If there be any to be reproached or put under a social ban, it will not be those who toil, whatever their vocation may be, but the useless idlers, who will be less and less tolerated till they wholly disappear.

A clothier or a grocer, mayhap an undertaker, invites us to "get the habit" of calling at his place of business. It appears to be a practical and up-to-date catch-word. If we could only persuade all people to form correct habits, how soon this world would seem paradise by contrast! If we could make our children follow precept instead of example, what marvelous progress the next generation might attain! We can at least

pass a few good resolutions at the beginning of the new year.

Let us form the habits of paying all debts promptly, including our dues and assessments, and save worry for the financial secretary and possibly our beneficiaries. Get the habit of attending Division meetings. It's a very good habit if we do no more than show good will. The officers are encouraged and the Division is sure to flourish when the members show proper interest, cultivate the habit of proposing, in connection with the Auxiliary to O. R. C., social events, membership contests, etc., and keep something everlastingly doing. In case you have been remiss in the past, get the habit of asking people, especially the young conductors, to join, and watch out for occasions to present the superior attractions of our Order. Formerly we felt the handicap of insufficient revenues, slow payment of claims, and the doubtful countenance of the railway magnates. Now we are in the front rank, endorsed by all reliable authorities, having a sure and safe foundation for both our hopes and promises.

It is a good habit to read THE CONDUCTOR. Suggest to your Division officers that certain articles or letters might be read with profit at regular meetings, with comments by the home talent, when nothing of more importance requires attention. Reports from other Divisions and localities should inspire the wish to have your own Division figure in the columns. In this connection why could not the recording secretary or any competent member furnish an item occasionally to the local newspapers? That is a favorable means of advertising with our brethren of the fraternal orders. Get the habit of learning from any source the secret of successful growth and then push the good work along. Let us set the mark of ninety-five per cent of all conductors joining our Order by the close of 1905. Only a slight effort on the part of each one would suffice to make that much increase, and then we should set the habit of the O. R. C.

Don't stay away from Division meetings because you think the Division can get along without you. It encourages the officers of the Division to see wellattended meetings.

Don't think because you are one of the oldest members of the Division you should have all the say. Give the younger members a chance to show what they know. Perhaps some of them know more than you.

Don't think that all the brothers are down on you because they voted against that pet scheme of yours. They may either have good reasons for doing so or they did not understand you.

Don't allow yourself to be suspended. If you are out of employment, are sick or have sickness in your family, and therefore are not able to pay your assessments, state your case in the Division meeting or have a Brother do it for you, and the Division will be sure to help you if you are a worthy Brother.

Don't keep on grumbling because your rate of assessment was raised, for the O. R. C. is still a cheap insurance compared with many others, and you should know by this time that the readjustment of rates at times is necessary and is done on a just and equitable basis.

Don't think that the O. R. C. has enough members and it is not necessary for you to try to get new members to join. It is absolutely necessary that each Brother secure as many candidates as possible if the organization should live and prosper.

Don't forget to send your very best men as delegates to the next convention. There'll be something doing, I promise you.

Our

common life that this movement does not affect. It pervades the home in the questions of wages, of apprentices, of the employment of women; in its child labor aspect it affects the schoolhouse; almost daily it makes its appearance in scores of cases in our courts; its presence is conspicuous in every Legislature, State and National, and it is more and more having an influence with our political parties in their State and National conventions; through strikes and lockouts it has come in conflict with the police and military powers of the State and Federal Governments, and in its contact with the injunction a vital principle of government itself is brought in question; through the factory system of principles of industrial organization it vitally concerns the production, exchange and consumption of goods, with all the manifold phases of social activity which are related, directly and indirectly, to the conduct of our great industries.

This labor movement is drawing new and distinct lines of demarkation through our social organization: it is separating the elements having only hands from those whose distinctive means of activity are their brains; it is even dividing the hands into union and non-union groups. Within organized society it is creating a separate organization, in contrast with the religious, educational and political grouping of the people, and in consequence is raising questions as to its relation and that of its members to the Church, to the law and to the State.

These are clearly discernible facts. We do not question the right or the wrong of them. We are concerned here primarily with their significance. The so-called labor movement has progressed far enough for intelligent persons to inquire dispassionately as to its real meaning rather than irrationally to prejudge its dangers and its evils. By this we do not mean that all criticism and opposition, strengthened by a clear conception of the evils and a rational recognition of the good, should be made all the more effective at those points where the movement threatens injury to organized society and its established institutions.

We believe in opposition to the labor movement, not with the object of destroying it but to eradicate its evils. Every movement having for its ultimate aim the establishing of institutions-and we believe at bottom this is what the labor movement means-is always accompanied by inherent forces of evil. They are evil because they mean a change in the existing social order. Their danger to society is greater or less in proportion to the extent of the change they demand. The human element directing them seems to be so constituted as in nearly every case to demand a greater change-the individuals after "rights" or power want greater concessions-than the welfare of society would warrant. Social growth to proceed naturally must be slow, and if the pressure opposition exerts upon the labor movement were removed it would soon sweep everything before it into chaos and social disorder.

This seems to be the situation in Australia where the labor movement has captured the Government, and instead of the latter protecting the interests and safeguarding the welfare of all the different individuals and classes, the Government has come to represent only one element, and that the labor group. In consequence, a radical social followed by a political revolution may soon be expected in that country-a change that may swing the pendulum too far the other way and possibly lead to a denial