One evening sometime ago, when there was a strike of some workmen in Secretary Wilson's town, she was in the Secretary's home waiting to see him. The Secretary was engaged in another room with representatives of those opposed to the strikers, and she overheard their talk. One of the men said, "Mr. Wilson, you have a mortgage on this house, I believe."
The reply was in the affirmative.
"Then," said the speaker, "if you will see that this strike is called away from our neighborhood—we don't ask you to terminate it, but merely to see that the strikers leave our town—if you will do this, we will take pleasure in presenting you with a large purse and also in wiping off the mortgage on your home."
Mr. Wilson arose, his voice trembling and his arm lifted, and said, "You gentlemen are in my house. If you come as friends and as gentlemen, all of the hospitalities that this home has to offer are yours. But if you come here to bribe me to break faith with my people, who trust me and whom I represent, there is the door, and I wish you to leave immediately."
Mother Jones concluded by saying, "Mr. Wilson never tells this story, but I heard it with my own ears, and I know what a real man he is."
I wish that you could have heard the story yourself. I am telling it to you now, for I know how pleased you will be to hear of it, even in this indirect way. Faithfully yours, FRANKLIN K. LANE
On November 30, 1914 Colonel Roosevelt wrote to Lane saying,—
"That's a mighty fine poem on Uncle Sam's Thanksgiving! I wish you would give me a chance to see you sometime.
"I do not know Mr. Garrison and perhaps he would resent my saying that I think he has managed his Department excellently; but if you think he would not resent it, pray tell him so. I hear nothing but good of you—but if I did hear anything else I should not pay any heed to it. …"
To Theodore Roosevelt