HARDWOOD RECORD 



'7 



Strode's Stuff. 



Down in Indiana. 

 The first place I stopped was at Princeton. 

 Here I saw the old firm of A. B. Nickey & 

 Sons. They are pretty nearly cut out, but 

 they have a good stock of lumber and a good 

 stock of logs, and they will have plenty of 

 both while Indiana timber lasts. The Green 

 River Lumber Company, in which they are in- 

 terested, has recently opened headquarters 

 in Memphis. The company has a large tract 

 of timber in that district and expect to 

 establish a mill there. Sam Nickey has been 

 traveling with his wife, whose health is poor; 

 they are at present in southern California. 

 Then I went on down to Evansville, where 

 I saw Claude Maley and Dan Wertz, of the 

 firm of Maley & Wertz; also Young & Cut- 

 singer, and the rest of the boys. Saw a lot 

 of quarter-sawed oak in stock — about the 

 best and most of it that I found on my 

 travels. 



From Evansville I took the Southern Bail- 

 way to Louisville and New Albany, stopping 

 en route at Boonville, where I saw the C. P. 

 White Lumber Company, an excellent con- 

 cern with a large stock of the genuine white 

 oak. A peculiarity of this concern's stock 

 is that all its Indiana white oak grows in 

 Indiana. 



I spent only one day in Louisville and did 

 not get time to visit the trade, but had the 

 pleasure of attending a district meeting of 

 the Hardwood Manufacturers' Association 

 held by Secretary Doster. It was a most 

 successful and interesting one. 



In the afternoon Will McLean took us out 

 to view his plant in Louisville. I can always 

 tell a plant of the Hugh McLean Lumber 

 Company. It doesn 't matter what other peo- 

 ple have, you will always find a Hugh Mc- 

 Lean plant well stocked with logs, popping 

 off steam and turning out an abundance of 

 good lumber. Hugh McLean has the reputa- 

 tion of being the best lumber salesman on 

 the road, but the secret of his success is un- 

 doubtedly that he has to offer not odds and 

 ends, Imt tin' product of his own mill, well 

 manufactured, equalized and dry. The Mc- 

 Leans have an organization that is hard to 

 beat. All the manufacturing interests of the 

 firm are under the personal supervision of 

 W. A. McLean, as energetic and entertain- 

 ing a gentleman as any in the South. He is, 

 in fact, hard to keep up with. After show- 

 ing me over the plant, he took me to the 

 Pendennis Club for dinner, where we spent a 

 couple of hours very pleasantly, then con- 

 chid': d to go to the theater. We spent three- 

 quarters of an hour there, which is a good 

 while for Mr. McLean to sit still. The show 

 was not extra good. A lady came out with 

 a blanket tied around her to make a train, 

 and she sang selections from an opera. When 

 she reached the high notes the drum in the 

 orchestra would make an awful racket and 

 she would stop and say "Thank you." Then 

 she would take up her train in her arms as 



if it were a rag-doll, and sing it a lullaby, 

 while someone behind the scenes would evi- 

 dently have a fit among a lot of glass bottles. 

 She otherwise conducted herself in a manner 

 so ridiculous that we came very near laugh- 

 ing. After watching her for a while, we left. 

 I don't know what the [day was about, nor 

 why the people acted as they did, but maybe 

 there was some justification for them. We 

 musn 't condemn them too severely. 



Then we went to the Louisville Hotel and 

 couldn't get a room. They called up the 

 Gault House and we couldn't get one there. 

 There wasn 't anything going on either. Louis- 

 ville has just outgrown its hotel accommoda- 

 tions. 



' ' Come on, ' ' said Mr. McLean, ' ' I will take 

 care of you, ' ' and he picked up my valise and 

 started out like a whirlwind, as usual. I 

 did not get near enough to him to ask where 

 we were going, until he stopped to hail a 

 car. 



' ' To New Albany, ' ' he said. ' ' We 've got 

 lots of room over in New Albany. ' ' 



When we got off the ear he said, "Come 

 on down to my house, we have a spare room 

 there." He rushed along the sidewalk like 

 a cyclone. I stumbled along after him like 

 a blizzard which is slightly lame in one leg. 

 I couldn't see the sidewalk very well, it being 

 dark, the streets poorly lighted, and I my- 

 self a trifle nearsighted. It was a brick 

 walk, full of holes and unexpected steps, all 

 new to me. I sent up a silent, earnest sup- 

 plication and consigned myself to the care of 

 the Lord, placing the responsibility on Him, 

 and giving Him warning not to let me fall 

 down and break my neck. So I stumbled 

 along, trying to keep up. 



Slap — bang ! ! ! Durn the hole, anyhow ! 

 ' ' Hello, Strode ! ' ' said McLean, ' ' didn 't 

 you see that hole?" 



"Ha-ha, ha-ha! " said I, regaining my bal- 

 ance. "Of course I saw it; I'm just acting 

 this way for fun ! ' ' 



Kick! Stumble! I nearly fell on my face 

 that time! 



"Ha-ha!" I cried, "don't pay any atten- 

 tion to me, I always cross the street that way 

 in Chicago." 



I was greatly relieved when we arrived at 

 the louse without any serious accident. Here 

 I found a good bed and passed the night 

 very comfortably. I do not remember the ex- 

 act number, but McLean has six or seven 

 small children, mostly boys, and the energetic 

 spirit is clearly inherited by them. 



I next went up to see Charlie Barraby at 

 Greencastle. Charlie is doing well. He is 

 not going to leave Indiana. Sixteen years 

 ago he bought (or his father did) the saw- 

 mill at Greencastle. The man who sold it 

 said the timber was all gone. But every one 

 of the sixteen years Charlie, or his father, 

 has cut more lumber than that man ever did, 

 and his log yard is a sight for sore eyes. 

 Charlie says he has all the timber offered that 



he is able to pay for. So he has steadily re- 

 fused all inducements to go to the Smith, 

 and has built an elegant home and is all 



fixed to continue the lumber business at n 



eastle. 



I next went out to see Sam Burkholder, 

 but Sam was not at home. The last issue of 

 the Haedwood Record was just out, saying I 

 was down in Indiana, and Sam had read this 

 and got out of town on the first train. How- 

 ever, his boy did the honors very acceptably. 

 Sam and I have done so much work in asso- 

 ciation matters and in the cause of temper- 

 ance, that I would have liked to meet him 

 and talk over old times — but Sam was gone. 

 At Richmond, Intl.. is one of the best lum- 

 ber concerns in the state. I refer to C. &. W. 

 Kramer. They have the famous Indiana white 

 oak in all its pristine purity. The firm of 

 C. & W. Kramer is in the second generation 

 now, which is quite a record in the hardwood 

 business. It was founded by C. & W. Kramer 

 and is today conducted by the boys in a very 

 able manner. 



The Weeping Philosopher. 

 I boarded the train for Edinburg, and he 

 entered the ear and took a seat in front of 

 me. He had an anxious, peering look, and 

 somehow he seemed to be on the verge of 

 bursting into tears and weeping all over the 

 car. 



' ' Is this seat taken ? " he asked, as he de- 

 posited his grip and umbrella and sat down 

 with a sigh. 



"It is," I said. 



"What!" he said, starting up. "Where 

 is he? Who is he?" 



, ' ' Why, my dear sir, ' ' I said, ' ' I only had 

 reference to yourself; you have taken the 

 seat. No one besides yourself has taken it 

 that I know of." 



He looked at me suspiciously, but I was 

 looking innocent. 



"It's a fine day," I said. 

 "Yes," shaking his head sadly. "It does 

 well enough; pretty cool." 



"All the better for the farmers to work," 

 said I. 



' ' Yes, the weather is all right if they would 

 work, but they won't. Farmers don't work 

 like they used to. No, not half." And the 

 tears seemed very uear. 



"I used to cut wheat with a sickle when 

 I was a boy; wrap it around my hand you 

 know. Nowadays they just sit up and drive 

 a twine binder; they don't know what work 

 is! My, when we got a cradle for cutting 

 wheat, we thought we were fixed. I remem- 

 ber once I was started at cradling a lot of 

 wheat. I was just a boy then, and I took 

 the lead. Then along about noon the old 

 seasoned workers caught up with me, and 1 

 didn't take the lead any more. I went to 

 shocking. I'!.' eii i I it took a 



man to cradle wheat in those days. You c 

 to do it now ! ' ' 

 "No," 1 said, "they don't have to, but 

 they gel there ji the same.'" ' 



"Of course they do," he said. "But 

 everything is too high. Look at the price of 



