ngs.
It was in the summer time the change took place.

Combined action amongst railway employees was not common then, not even
in the wage-earning class, but Trade Unionism, scarcely yet legalised,
was clamouring for recognition. Strikes sometimes occurred but were not
frequent.

In 1867 Mr. James Allport was general manager of the Midland Railway, Mr.
Thomas Walklate the goods manager and Mr. William Parker head of the
department in which I began my railway life. Ned Farmer was a notable
Midland man at that time; notable for his bucolic appearance, his genial
personality, and, most of all, for the well-known songs he wrote. He was
in charge of the company's horses, bought them, fed them, cared for them.
He was a big-bodied, big-hearted, ruddy-faced, farmerlike man of fifty or
so; and the service was proud of him. He had a great sense of humour and
used to tell many an amusing story. One morning, he told us, he had been
greatly tickled by a letter which he had received from one of his
inspectors whose habit it was to conclude every letter and report with
the words "to oblige." The letter ran: "Dear Sir, I beg to inform you
that Horse No. 99 died last night to oblige Yours truly, John Smith." He
wrote the fine poem of "_Little Jim_," which everyone knew, and which
almost every boy and girl could recite. His then well-known song, "_My
old Wife's a good old cratur_," was very popular and was sung throughout
the Midlands. The publication of his poems and songs was attended with
great success. His Muse was simple, homely, humorous, pathetic and
patriotic, and made a strong appeal to the natural feelings of ordinary
folk. Often it was inspired by incidents and experiences in his daily
life. His desk was in the same office as that in which I worked, and I
was very proud of the notice he took of me, and grateful for many
kindnesses he showed to me.

After spending twelve months or so in Mr. Parker's office, I was removed
to another department. The office to which I was assigned had about
thirty clerks, all of whom, except the chief clerk, occupied tall stools
at high desks.

I was one of two assistants to a senior clerk. This senior was middle-
aged, and passing rich on eighty pounds a year. A quiet, steady,
respectable married man, well dressed, cheerful, contented, he had by
care and economy, out of his modest salary, built for himself a snug
little double-breasted villa, in a pleasant outskirt of the town,