John Burroughs.
[[14]] From "John Burroughs, Boy and Man," by Dr. Clara Barrus. Copyright, 1920, by Doubleday, Page & Co.
The following letter[15] was written when J. J. Hill—perhaps the greatest railroading genius America has ever produced—was twenty years of age. It is one of the few letters written by him at this time of his life that have been preserved:
Saint Paul, February 11, 1858.
Dear William:
Your epistle bearing date of seventeenth ult. came to hand on good time and your fertile imagination can scarcely conceive what an amount of pleasure I derived from it, as it was the first epistle of William to James at St. Paul for a "long back." My surprise at receiving your letter was only surpassed by my surprise at not receiving one from you after you left St. Paul, or sometime during the ensuing season. Still, a good thing is never too late or "done too often." It gave me much pleasure to hear that you were all well and enjoying yourselves in the good and pious (as I learn) little town of Rockwood. I did intend to go to Canada this winter, but it is such a long winter trip I thought I should defer it until summer, when I hope to be able to get away, as I intend to go on the river this summer if all goes as well as I expect. Capt. W. F. Davidson wrote me from Cincinnati about going with him as first clerk on the side-wheel packet Frank Steele, a new boat about the size of the War Eagle. The Captain is Letter A, No. 1, and I think I shall go with him. If not, I have two or three good offers for coming season on the levee, besides my present berth, which is nevertheless very comfortable.
I think it mighty strange that some (of my letters) have not reached home as I wrote several times to my brother Alex. and I never was more surprised in my life than when old Bass handed me a letter of inquiry as to my whereabouts. But after the boats stop running our mails are carried so irregularly that whole bags of mail matter are often mislaid at way stations for weeks and some finally lost or otherwise destroyed. On the tenth of November last I was returning from the Winslow House with Charley Coffin, Clerk of the War Eagle, about eleven o'clock, and when we were coming down Fourth Street passing one of those rum holes, two Irishmen, red mouths, came out and, following us, asked us if we would not go back and take a drink. Charley said "no," and we were passing on when two more met us who, along with the other two, insisted that they meant no harm and that we should go in and drink. I told them that I did not drink and that, generally speaking, I knew what I was about. We attempted to go on, but they tried to have us go back, so I hauled off and planted one, two in Paddie's grub grinder, and knocked him off the sidewalk about eight feet. The remainder pitched in and Charley got his arm cut open and I got a button hole cut through my left side right below the ribs. The city police came to the noise and arrested three of them on the spot and the other next day and they turned out to be Chicago Star Cleaners, a name given to midnight ruffians. I was not compelled to keep my bed, but it was some two months before I was quite recovered from the effects of the cut.
One day on the levee I was going aboard one of the boats and slipped on the gang plank and sprained my knee, which laid me up for about two weeks. About a week ago my pugnacious friend who gave me his mark escaped from the penitentiary at Stillwater, along with all the rest of the prisoners confined at the time. I am sincerely very grateful to you for your generous offer in your letter and fully appreciate your kindness. But notwithstanding my bad luck I have still "a shot in the locker," about $200, which will put me out of any trouble until spring.
Our winter here has been very mild and open. We have scarcely had any snow, but what was altogether unprecedented, rain storms lasting three or four days in succession. Times have been mighty dull here this winter and money scarce. Write to me as soon as you receive this and give me a bird's eye view of Rockwood and its inhabitants. Believe me
Yours sincerely,