In the friends I made I was fortunate too. They included two or three budding lawyers, a young engineer, a banker, a doctor, two embryo hotel managers, an auctioneer, and one or two journalists; and, as I have mentioned before, my artist friend Cynicus. We were, most of us, friends of each other, met often, and the variety of our pursuits gave zest and interest to our intercourse. First amongst these friends ranked G. G., one of the young lawyers, or writers, as they are called in Scotland. He was my closest friend. We have not met for many years, but the friendship remains unweakened; for there are things that Time the destroyer is powerless to injure. Like myself, G. G. comes of the middle class. His parents, like mine, were by no means affluent, but they were Scotch and held education in veneration, and were ambitious, as Scottish parents are, for their sons. They gave him a University education, and afterwards apprenticed him to the law. He became, and is still, a prosperous lawyer in Glasgow.

Then came J. B., a young lawyer too, who blossomed into the pleasant and important position of Senior Deputy Town Clerk of the City of Glasgow. He, too, had sprung from the great middle class. Well versed in classical lore he was a delightful companion. He had travelled much and benefited by his travels; was a sociable being, exceedingly good-natured, and peered through spectacles as thick as pebbles, being very short-sighted, and without his glasses would scarcely recognise you a yard off. Yet he could see into the heart of things as well as most men, for he was a shrewd Scotchman, and had a pawky humour. If he possessed a fault it was a love for a game of cards. We played nap in those days, and when a game was on it was hard to get him to bed. He has gone over to the majority now. His sudden death a year ago came as a great blow to his family and a large circle of friends. Next to G. G., as intimate friends, came H. H. and F. K. They were in the company’s service though not in the railway proper, but connected with the management of the hotel department. Of foreign birth, sons of a nation with whom we are now, alas! at war, they were youths of fine education, disposition and refinement, and I became greatly attached to each. H. H. preceded and F. K. followed me to Ireland, where he (F. K.)

still resides, honoured and respected, as he deserves to be. He and I, throughout the years, have been and are the closest of friends. Once, not very long ago, in a grave crisis of my life, when death seemed near, he stood by me with the devotion of a brother. My auctioneer friend (G. F.) was, perhaps, the most interesting man of our circle; certainly he possessed more humour than the rest of us put together. Fond of literature, with a talent for writing, he was a regular contributor to the Glasgow Punch, The Bailie. But his greatest charms were, his dear innocence, his freshness of mind, his simple inexpensive tastes, his enjoyment of life, and his infectious laugh. In years he was our senior, but in worldly knowledge junior to us all. He lives still and is, I believe, as jocund as ever. Another of these Glasgow friends I must mention—a poet, and like Burns, a son of the soil. His name was Alexander Anderson. When first I met him he was in the railway service, a labourer on the permanent way, what is called a surfaceman in Scotland, a platelayer in England and a milesman in Ireland. Self taught, he became proficient in French, German and Italian, and was able to enjoy in their own language the literature of those countries. A Scottish nobleman, impressed by his wonderful poetical talent, defrayed the expenses of a tour which he made in Italy and an extended stay in Rome, to the enrichment of his mind and to his great enjoyment. On his return to Scotland he published a book of poems. In an introduction to this book the Revd. George Gilfillan wrote, “The volume he now presents to the world is distinguished by great variety of subject and modes of treatment. It has a number of sweet Scottish verses, plaintive or pawky. It has some strains of a higher mood, reminding us of Keats in their imagination. But the highest effort, if not also the most decided success, is his series of sonnets, entitled, ‘In Rome.’ And certainly this is a remarkable series.” A remarkable man he was indeed; simple and earnest in manner, with a fine eye, a full dark beard and sunburnt face. Tiring, however, of a labourer’s life and of the pick and shovel, he left the railway and became assistant librarian of Edinburgh University, and three years afterwards Secretary to the Philosophical Institution of Edinburgh. He afterwards became Chief Librarian to the Edinburgh University. He died in the summer of 1909. He stayed with me in Glasgow once for a week-end, and on the Sunday afternoon we

together visited a friend of his who lived near, a literary man, who then was engaged in writing a series of lives of the Poets for some publishing house. An interesting part of our conversation was about Carlyle with whom this friend was intimate, had in fact just returned from visiting him at Chelsea. He told us many interesting stories of the sage. I remember one. He was staying with the Carlyles, when Mrs. Carlyle was alive. One evening at tea, a copper kettle, with hot water, stood on the hob. Mrs. Carlyle made a movement as if to rise, with her eye directed to the kettle; the friend, divining her wish, rose and handed her the kettle. She thanked him, and, with a pathetic and wistful gaze at Carlyle, added, “Ay, Tam, ye never did the like o’ that!”

My first trip abroad was in 1883, and my companion, G. G. We went to Paris via Newhaven, Dieppe and Rouen, and at Rouen stayed a day and a night, and spent about a fortnight in Paris. We were accompanied from London by a friend I have not yet named, one who was well known in the railway world, Tony Visinet, the British Engineering and Commercial Agent of the Western Railway of France; a delightful companion always, full of the charm and vivacity that belong to his country. He took us to see his mother at Rouen, who lived in an old-fashioned house retired from the road, in a pleasant court-yard; a charming old lady, with whom G. G. was able to converse, but I was not. Tony Visinet’s life was full of movement and variety. He had lodgings in London, and a flat in Paris, traversed the Channel continually, and I remember his proudly celebrating his fifteen hundredth crossing.

From childhood I had longed to see something of the world, and this excursion to Paris was the first gratification of that wish. Paris now is as familiar to me almost as London, but then was strange and new. Rouen and its cathedral we first saw by moonlight, a beautiful and impressive sight, idealised to me by the thought that we were in sunny France. Little I imagined then how much of the world in later years I should see; but strong desires often accomplish their own fulfilment, and so it came to pass.

CHAPTER XIV.
TERMINALS, RATES AND FARES, AND OTHER MATTERS

Of course it was right that Parliament, when conferring upon the railway companies certain privileges, such as the compulsory acquisition of land and property, should, in the public interest, impose restrictions on their charging powers. No one could reasonably complain of this, and had it been done from the beginning in a clear, logical way, and in language free from doubt, all might have been well and much subsequent trouble avoided. But this was not the case. Each company’s charging powers were contained in its own private Acts (which were usually very numerous) and differed for different sections of the railway. It was often impossible for the public to ascertain the rights of the companies, and well nigh impossible for the companies themselves to know what they were. These powers were in the form of tolls for the use of the railway; charges for the use of carriages, wagons, and locomotive power, and total maximum charges which were less than the sum of the several charges. In the Acts no mention was made of terminals, though in some of them power to make a charge for services incidental to conveyance was authorised, and what these words really meant was the subject of much legal argument and great forensic expenditure.

In addition to the tolls and charges, the Acts usually contained a rough classification of goods to which they applied. These were divided into from three to five classes, and comprised some 50 to 60 articles. The railway companies, however, had in existence, for practical everyday use, a general

classification called The Railway Clearing House Classification, and this contained over 2,700 articles divided into seven classes.