my circle of acquaintances had not enlarged much. Mrs.
Franciscus, wife of our freight agent, was very kind and on several
occasions asked me to her house in Pittsburgh. She often spoke of the
first time I rang the bell of the house in Third Street to deliver a
message from Mr. Scott. She asked me to come in; I bashfully declined
and it required coaxing upon her part to overcome my shyness. She was
never able for years to induce me to partake of a meal in her house. I
had great timidity about going into other people's houses, until late
in life; but Mr. Scott would occasionally insist upon my going to his
hotel and taking a meal with him, and these were great occasions for
me. Mr. Franciscus's was the first considerable house, with the
exception of Mr. Lombaert's at Altoona, I had ever entered, as far as
I recollect. Every house was fashionable in my eyes that was upon any
one of the principal streets, provided it had a hall entrance.

I had never spent a night in a strange house in my life until Mr.
Stokes of Greensburg, chief counsel of the Pennsylvania Railroad,
invited me to his beautiful home in the country to pass a Sunday. It
was an odd thing for Mr. Stokes to do, for I could little interest a
brilliant and educated man like him. The reason for my receiving such
an honor was a communication I had written for the "Pittsburgh
Journal." Even in my teens I was a scribbler for the press. To be an
editor was one of my ambitions. Horace Greeley and the "Tribune" was
my ideal of human triumph. Strange that there should have come a day
when I could have bought the "Tribune"; but by that time the pearl had
lost its luster. Our air castles are often within our grasp late in
life, but then they charm not.

The subject of my article was upon the attitude of the city toward the
Pennsylvania Railroad Company. It was signed anonymously and I was
surprised to find it got a prominent place in the columns of the
"Journal," then owned and edited by Robert M. Riddle. I, as operator,
received a telegram addressed to Mr. Scott and signed by Mr. Stokes,
asking him to ascertain from Mr. Riddle who the author of that
communication was. I knew that Mr. Riddle could not tell the author,
because he did not know him; but at the same time I was afraid that if
Mr. Scott called upon him he would hand him the manuscript, which Mr.
Scott would certainly recognize at a glance. I therefore made a clean
breast of it to Mr. Scott and told him I was