located in Canada will please remit by draft or express money order. We will not accept packages of money sent by express, unless charges have been prepaid. The JOURNAL closes on the 18th of each month. Claims received after that day will lie over until the succeeding month. 48 176 Feb. 6, 1888. Dec. 72 900 H. L. Hall..... 901 H. W. Crouch... 902 H. E. Cattle.. 48 2, 1905. Blind.... 18 Dec. 31, 1886. Dec. 29, 1905. Blind. 43 629 Nov. 15, 1903. Nov. 29, 1906. Cancer 606 Nov. 22, 1904 Nov. 29, 1906. Killed.. 46 Oct. 20, 1904. Dec. 1, 1906. Left arm amput'ed 438 Mch. 28, 1904 Dec. 3, 1906. Cirrhosis of liver.. 147 July 22, 1895. Dec. 3, 1906. Killed.. 77 Oct. 4. 1905. Dec. 6, 1906. Killed 471 Sept. 24, 1906. Dec. 7, 1906. Killed. 458 Apr. 15, 1894. Dec. 8, 1906. Cerebral thrombes 375 July 29, 1892. Dec. 8, 1906. Killed 394 July 22, 1895. Dec. 11, 1906. Consumption... 386 Feb. 22, 1901. Dec. 11, 1906. Heart disease 201 May 15, 1901 Dec. 12, 1906. Meningitis. 45 Sept. 2, 1883. Dec. 12, 1906. Heart disease. 290 Apr. 24, 1836. Dec. 12, 1906. Rheumatism 195 Mch. 26, 1906. Dec. 13, 1906. Killed... 512 Dec. 20, 1903. Dec. 13, 1906. Hem phlegia. 187 Nov. 23, 1891. Dec. 13, 1906. Heart failure 271 June 4, 1906. Dec. 13, 1905. Uremic poisoning 61 June 27, 1906. Dec. 14, 1906. Perfora'nofstom'h 125 July 25, 1903. Dec. 15, 1906 Pneumonia 492 Oct. 23, 1905. Dec. 15, 1906. Left hand ampt'ed 138 Oct. 18, 1903. Dec. 15, 1906. Killed 903 D. P. McGill 904 B. F. Cool. 33 47 905 G. C. McLean.... 35 906 E. T. Fearl 43 907 W. H. Marvin... 40 908 E. W. Klecan. 909 H. M. Dolph 32 61 910 Geo. C Kinney... 37 911 J. H. McCarty 912 J. H. Kibler. 40 913 Patrick Hogan... 39 914 Wm. H. McKeen 69 24 Oct. 25, 1898 Dec. 16, 1906. Cardiac rupture.... 656 Sept. 14, 1888. Dec. 16, 1905. Typhoid fever.. 4 Sept. 15, 1873 Dec. 17, 1906. Acute nephritis.. 360 Jan. 22, 1905 Dec. 17, 1906. Killed 651 July 20, 1904. Dec. 18, 1906. Killed.. 25 Feb. 12, 1905. Dec. 18, 1906. Killed 276 Apr. 11, 1885 Dec. 19, 1906. Killed.. 28 July 17, 1904. Dec. 19, 1906. Killed.. 472 May 17, 1893 Dec. 20, 1906. Dropsy 268 Mch. 1, 1990. Dec. 21, 1906. Heart disease. 295 Apr. 26, 1898. Dec. 22, 1906. Killed 513 Dec. 19, 1904. Dec. 22, 1906. Heart disease. 328 Mch. 4, 1887. Dec. 22, 1906. Heart disease.... 123 Mar. 19, 1883. Dec. 23, 1906. 31, 1906. Cardiac syncope..... I, 1907. Killed.. 35 Sept. 7, 1874. Dec. 24, 1906. Killed. 291 Mch. 15, 1893. Dec. 25, 1906. Apoplexy. 669 Apr. 25, 1902. Dec. 25, 1906. Killed 612 Feb. 25, 1898. Dec. 26, 1906. Paresis 467 May 4, 1895. Dec. 26, 1906. Killed.. 500 Nov. 18, 1892. Dec. 27, 1906. Killed. 148 Jan. 16, 1891. Dec. 28, 1906. Suicide 193 Feb. 8, 1901. Dec. 28, 1906. Killed... 339 Aug. 27, 1897. Dec. 29, 1906. Killed.. 349 Oct. 16, 1898. Dec. 29, 1906. Killed.. 370 Oct. 23, 1899. Dec. 29, 1906. Pernicious anæm'a 235 July 21, 1870. Dec. 30, 1906 Hernia. 168 May 13, 1892. Dec. 501 Dec. 18, 1904. Jan. 411 Feb. 14, 1897. Jan. 290 Feb. 26, 1906. Jan. 556 Dec. 12, 1891. Jan. 476 Dec. 24, 1899. Jan. 357 May 26, 1881. Jan. 360 May 14, 1893 Jan. 53 June 21, 1884. Jan. 4. 1907. Bright's disease.. 480 Mch. 10, 1905 Jan. 7, 1907. Nephritis 2 June 28, 1903 Jan. 8, 1907. Killed. 28 442 Feb. 7. 1904. Jan. 10, 1907. Killed.. 525 Aug. 6, 1899. Jan. 11, 1907. Bright's disease... 572 Apr. 12, 1901 Jan. 11, 1907. La grippe... 6 Jan. 28, 1901. Jan. 13, 1907. Hemorrhage.. 522 June 24, 1902 Jan. 14, 1907. Killed.. 55 May 30, 1899. Jan. 14. 1907. Killed 67. 49 54 51 955 W. E. Weichlein 47 956 T. W. Wheeler... 63 957 Henry Hines..... 958 E. S. Norton 959 W. E. Mills. 960 F. P. Houppert.. 46 951 E. I. Barron.. 962 Martin Callahan 34 963 Jos. N. Sherman 34 961 D. L. Bisbee... 42 965 P. W. Myers 36 966 Frank Nee lv.. 41 Total number of claims, I, 1907. Hemorrhage. 2, 1907 Acute hepatitis. 3, 1907. Gunshot.. 3, 1907. Killed... 4, 1907. M. nephritis.. 4, 1907. Paralysis Total amount of claims, $146,250. Acknowledgments. $3000 Self. 3000 Self. 750 Daisy Cattle, w. 1500 Maggie McGill, w. 3000 Self. 750 Ada V Early, s. 1500 Mrs. E. Fearl, m. 1500 Minnie E. Marvin, w 3000 Theresa Klecan, w. 3000 Ada Dolph, w. 1500 Mrs. J. C. Kinney, m 1500 Mrs. J.H. McCarty, w 1500 Mattie L. Kibler, w. 750 Annie Hogan, s. 1500 W.H&E. McKeen,s&d 1500 Mrs. P. Murphy, m. 1500 Ida Brodick, m. 750 R. A. Hampleman, f. 4500 BlancheE. Phillips, w 3000 O.N.&WN. Davis, was 15co Susie B. Goodwin, w. 1500 Marion Barr, w. 1500 Self. 1500 Annie Ross, w. 3000 Myrtle Waldman, w. 1500 Emma M. Walker, w 4500 C. W&B. Hickox, g'ns 3000 Carrie E. Ray, w. 1500 Myrta Wells, w. 1500 Susie M. Ross, w. 3000 Mrs. John Joyce, w. 4500 Lou. & M. Prince, w&m 1500 Mary E. Portland, s. 4500 Mary Teal, w. 1500 Jessie A. Paul, w. 3000 Sarah B. Lawrence, w 3000 Mrs. Jas. Welch, w. 4500 Albertine Gosney, w 3000 Mrs. M. J. Lynn. w. 4500 Mrs. A. B. Shanks, w 3000 Lizzie Townsend, w. 1500 Mrs. Alice Schrier, w 2250 Mrs. Phebe Miller, w 1500 Mrs. Annie Sealy, w 1500 Sarah J. Arnold, w. 1500 Lena Link, w. 3000 M. & M. Maxw'll, w&m 3000 Annie Korslund, w. 1500 Eliza Downey, w. 3000 Mrs. J. A. Auryansen 1500 Mrs. Jno. Clough, w. 1500 Mrs. C. E. Copher, w 1500 Katherine Riley, w. 3000 Kat. Chappen ba'k, w 4500 Texie L. Davis. w. 3000 Mrs. E. E. Weichl'n,w 3000 Mrs. T. W. Wheeler, w 1500 Peter J. Hines, bro. 1500 H. & A. Morton, d'rs 1500 Rosa Mills, w. 1500 Theresa Houppert, w 750 Zilpah Barron, w. 1500 Thos. Callahan, bro. 1500 Maude A.Sherman, w 750 Minnie L. Bisbee, w. 1500 Elizabeth Myers, w. 1500 Mary F. Neesley, w. Acknowledgments have been received from the following Beneficiaries for amounts stated in settlement of claims paid: LOCOMOTIVE ENGINEERS MONTHLY JOURNAL Vol. XLI. C. H. SALMONS, EDITOR AND MANAGER, 307 SOCIETY FOR SAVINGS BLD'G, CLEVELAND, O. March. With rushing winds and gloomy skies MARCH, 1907. March! By streams still held in icy snare, March! What though conflicting seasons make NUMBER 3. John Ainsworth's Easter Flower. BY THORNTON W. BURGESS. John Ainsworth flung himself down and confessed being tired. He had tramped all of 18 miles over sharply pitched hills, through the close clutching tangle of scrub oak thickets, under whispering pines, across brush-grown old pastures and around the boggy shores of secluded peaceful little woodland ponds. Now he was back to his favorite retreat on Telegraph hill. It was a little open spot on the very brow of the hill. Back and on two sides an oak forest stood guard, and below was a dense thicket of hid saplings, too young to cut off his view. Away across the now greening pastures and lower meadows he could see the spires of the village thrust through the great overhanging elms which the houses. Beyond, the level brown marshes stretched away to the irregular line of sand dunes, the outer line of defense against the besieging waters of the bay. Beyond these in turn the horizon became a quiet, hazy blending of the deep, almost purple blue of the water with the soft light blue of the April sky. The sun glinted from the white, foaming curl of a wave and the distance made dazzling white the dingy sail of a mackerel fisher. To John Ainsworth, the scene was so familiar that he was wont to call it his "own. Yet today, as he looked upon it, it was with the same catch of the breath and thrill of pleasure that had been his when years before he had first penetrated to that spot. Presently he stretched himself at full length on the luxuriant couch of sunwarmed moss. The gentle sigh of a white pine, the warmth of the afternoon sun and the woody odor so peculiar to the spring soothed the troubled spirit which had been driving him over the hills since early morning. It was Easter, a rarely perfect Easter in the very opening of April. It had given to the church bells that morning an unwonted joyousness. The whole world had seemed athrill with hope and the promise of life and joy. John had heard it in the clear, sweet, piercing notes of the meadow lark, and later in the soft "phoebe" and throaty little song of a titmouse setting up housekeeping. This day the superabundance of life and hope but intensified his own hopelessness. He had plunged into the woods to do battle with himself, for alone in the great temple of nature a man may learn somewhat of himself. It was just a year ago, on Easter Sunday, that he had asked Beth Somers to be his wife, and she had refused. He could see now the pain in the clear hazel eyes as she hushed his passionate pleadings. "Don't, John, don't!" she had begged. "Don't you see how hard it is for me? We have been such good friends for so long, John, and it mustn't all end now. John, I hold you as the first and best of all my friends. There is no one to whom I would turn so quickly for aid or advice, to whom I would appeal so promptly in the hour of trouble as to you, And I would be as true a friend to you, John. More than that I cannot promise. John, you would not have me marry you unless I love you as a woman should. It would be unjust to you; it would be unjust to myself. So let us be just the good chums we have always been, the better for the new understanding we have of each other." So they had made their agreement, he promising not to build false hopes on any little kindness she might claim as the privilege of friendship. He had lived up to his pledge faithfully. But when was hope ever bound by pledges? He had hoped. How much he had hoped he had never confessed to himself until this anniversary day. Now he realized how absolutely impossible it was to go on so, indefinitely. In the long tramp he had fought it all over again and again till his mind was made up. He had an invitation to join a government scientific expedition, which would take him away for a year, perhaps more. He would accept and in the pursuit of his studies he would have less time to think of the ache in his heart. John Ainsworth was not of the stuff to allow a disappointment in love to wreck his life. He had long since resolved that Beth should be proud of him, even though she could not love him. Thinking back through the years, John could not remember when he had not loved Beth. Even in the days of valentines and May baskets Beth had always been the sole recipient of his youthful admiration. Vividly there came back to him the early April days when together they had searched woodlands and old pastures for the first bit of arbutus. With what boyish ardor and bashfulness he had pressed upon her that first frail blossom when fortune had favored him! For those were the days of much learning in the meaning of flowers, and the arbutus means "I love you." The thought of that flower brought him back to the present, for in all his long tramp he had searched carefully, but in vain, for the first arbutus of the year. The last long slanting rays of the sitting sun still lingered in the little opening on the brow of the hill. A breeze with the chill of eventide was stirring the white pine. A blue-jay screamed harshly and followed almost immediately with its flutelike love note. John awoke with a start. As he did so, a tiny, fragile blossom, with the soft pink of the wavekissed sea shells, fell close by his cheek. He caught a whiff of its fragrant breath. It was the first arbutus! Bewildered, he rose quickly and turned to meet the clear eyes and flushed face of Beth. "I thought I should find you here, John," she said. He stooped to pick up the little flower at his feet. "And this-" he stammered. "Is the first arbutus of the year!" she cried. "And it means?" he questioned. "I love you," she said, softly. |