can locate our road, as you would with the potato 

 held in your hand. Then, in locating we have an 

 axiom, that we try as close as possible to adhere to. 

 That is, to make our cuts so that they shall furnish the 

 earth for the piles, thus we 'kill the two birds with 

 one stone.' " 



"But," asked our friend, "does thee not take into 

 consideration the additional length of iron, and the 

 stone blocks, and the labor expended on them?" 



The reply was, "Certainly, but in this case it does 

 not amount to much." 



"But," said our Friend, "it takes more power to 

 haul a load over what thee calls curves than on a 

 straight line, and I think this ought to enter into the 

 calculation of first cost." He stooped down and 

 picked up a stone, and, holding it towards Major 

 Wilson, continued: "Thee cannot carry this stone 

 twenty steps and back without expending some power. 

 Now, if thee counts the number of times thee carries 

 it back and forth for a single hour, thee would find 

 how much longer it would take thee to add only one 

 step further to each trip. This is what I mean by 

 the constant loss during all time, and then thy curves 

 will give great additional trouble to the mechanic 

 when he comes to construct steam engines to run 

 this road and accommodate themselves to running 

 around the curves." 



By this time it was evident the Major was more 

 than annoyed; he was excited, for he replied rather 

 petulantly: "My good Friend, I would have you to 

 understand that this railway is not being made for 

 steam power; it is a State road for the benefit of 

 every one, just as any turn-pike road. The State 

 may furnish wagons or cars, or individuals may put 

 their own on the road, and every farmer may attach 

 his own horses and haul his produce to market, and 

 if I have my way no steam engine shall ever run on 

 the road." He turned his back on the Friend and 

 entered into conversation with some one else in a 

 manner to show his determination to end the palaver. 



The honest old Quaker flushed as if his feelings 

 were hurt, and stood for a few minutes as if silently 

 communing with the spirit within. Then he spoke 

 in a subdued manner as if he was talking to himself: 

 "Well, for the life of me I don't see the use of the 

 inclined plane to get down to the Schuylkill, for by 

 starting at Friend - — 's place it would be easy to 

 strike the river a little above Fairmount dam, or if 

 (naming another farm) by way of Mill Creek Valley 

 through Friend Mayland's place to the river above 

 Gray's Ferry bridge." 



Major Wilson heard this, and, turning quickly, and 

 in no gentle terms said: "You don't know what you 

 are talking about. It seems to me that you are only 

 talking to hear yourself talk." 



The reply came very slowly: "May-be so, may-be so, 

 but one thing I certainly do know, if I do not know 

 all the knobs and bumps on what thee calls thy big 

 potato — though I was born and have lived all my 

 life among them — I do know that God never created 

 water that could run up hill, and that the water from 

 His living springs and His refreshing rains — all that is 

 not drank up by the hungry earth — from the first 

 place I have named finds its way into the Schuylkill 

 above Fairmount dam, and the springs and the rain 

 fall west of that by way of Mill Creek, and this 

 tells me the natural routes to get down as well if 

 not better than thy three-legged spy-glass can tell 

 thee. I am an old man and may not live to see it, 

 but there are others present that will, when the 

 inclined plane and all its works will be abandoned 

 and the road will take one or other of the routes that 

 I have indicated. I have walked out the road as 

 now making, and have noticed all its ups and downs 

 and its circumbendibuses, and know that with fewer 

 of them and at less cost, by heading the running 

 water it could ha\'e got down. That is all I know;" 

 and he walked away. 



In relating the above, I have endeavored to con- 

 dense the substance of a vast deal of by-play into 

 simple collocution. The impression made at the 

 time was strong, and has been kept alive by frequent 

 reference to it in conversation with Mr. Trautwine, 

 and on more than one occasion we together have seen 

 numbers convulsed with laughter by Ellwood Morris's 

 inimitable mimicking of the old Friend and the 

 Major, frequently with additions and embellishments. 



I have not told it, although the Friend's predictions 

 came true as soon as the old State Road, which has 

 so aptly been styled the Parent of the Pennsylvania 

 Central, passed into its hands. Nor would I detract 

 from the sterling integrity, perseverance and skill 

 of our early engineers. We are all naturally dis- 

 posed to follow leads. The great canals of the world 

 made tunneling a necessity; much talent and skill 

 was expended on them. To the tunnels the master 

 spirits of the Liverpool and Manchester added the 

 incline plane; our following was natural, and Pennsyl- 

 vania was not alone in doing so on her Columbia and 

 her Portage Railroad. The Charleston & Hamburg, 

 the Lawrenceburg & Indianapolis and others might 

 be cited, all of which planes have been superseded by 



150 



