THIRTY-SEVENTH ANNUAL CONVENTION. 151 



Only a street car conductor, and yet he has in his charge 

 thousands of precious lives every day, and as the great seething 

 mass of humanity in the congested city go to and fro from 

 home to business and from business to home, he delivers them 

 safely to their destination and as he crowds back and forth 

 from front to rear, and from rear to front, collecting nickels 

 and ringing the bell that announces another passenger, his 

 eager eye is ever alert to dangers that surround, and with ten- 

 der care he helps on and off the unprotected child and the aged 

 that are infirm, and his only reward, aside from the conscious- 

 ness of doing .his duty, an occasional thank, and a dollar and 

 seventy-five cents a day. 



Only a telegraph operator, and through the long dreary 

 hours of the night he directs the snorting, puffing engine that 

 hauls an told millions across the continent and who would be in 

 constant danger of disaster and death without his constant 

 vigil. He who surrounded by water and in the very face of 

 death apprised the world of a Galvaston horror and with almost 

 superhuman strength and courage sits by his instrument and 

 summons help to save a cargo of human lives that face a watery 

 grave on a foundered ship. 



Only a seamstress, and as she toils from day to day to 

 clothe the world, with a compensation of a few pennies carrying 

 to a humble home each night the provisions her earnings will 

 purchase to appease the hunger of her orphan children, she de- 

 serves the plaudits of the enlightened world. 



Only a farmer boy, and although his early life may be one 

 of obscurity, he is preparing himself for future eminence, and as 

 he tills the soil and plants the seed and reaps the harvest, he is 

 happy in the consciousness of being one of an army that feeds 

 the world, and to him all honor is due, and as he breaths the 

 pure air from Heaven and communes with nature and realizes 

 his partnership with the God of the Universe, he develops into 

 a manhood in whose house I would rather be a doorkeeper than 

 to dwell among Kings. 



Only a dairyman, and this opens to me a vision, and in it 



