suddenly. So was Colonel Hanks, when he rose to reply.
"Boys," he says, beginning soft, like an eoleon or jewsharp, and then pausing and bursting out—" For, while we have all progressed as statesmen, journalists, public men and railroaders, yet we are all boys together again. Boys, I admire the Waugoo road—but I lore Piney Woods. I can't help it. I can't help my heart. Here we went to school to old man Pollock:
' Old man Pollock,
lie knows how to woltop.'
"You all remember that ? I do. Going swimming in Suggses pond; stealing watermelons from old Miss Andrews; hollering 'hop-scotch' at one-legged Stew-art; fishing at Tapeses Mill and catching mud cats—I simply cant forget, boys. Wherever I go Piney Woods is in my heart. My directors know it, too, and they al-ways throw it up to me that I think more of her than I do of the Great Waugoo. If they knew I was here getting these terminal facilities I believe they would vote inc out. It's a secret. We could build the three miles around on Goose Creek and come in that way cheaper, because the earth is soft and there's only two bridges and a few deep fills; but I would rather spend more money laying track down these seven blocks of hard macadam street and put the road right in the heart of town. Because I laze Piney Woods. I'il going to put a coal yard at one end and a lumber yard at the other, with freight cars kept crowding the way so that strangers passing through will ask, ' What busy town is this?' That's what builds up cities like Atlanta and Chicago. I don't want people seeing two barns and an apple tree and then asking where is Piney Woods? When a train conies in we want a brass band marching busy up the street as if there was life going on. I want to put a