In 1867 Mr. James Allport was general manager of the Midland Railway, Mr. Thomas Walklate the goods manager and Mr. William Parker head of the department in which I began my railway life.  Ned Farmer was a notable Midland man at that time; notable for his bucolic appearance, his genial personality, and, most of all, for the well-known songs he wrote.  He was in charge of the company’s horses, bought them, fed them, cared for them.  He was a big-bodied, big-hearted, ruddy-faced, farmerlike man of fifty or so; and the service was proud of him.  He had a great sense of humour and used to tell many an amusing story.  One morning, he told us, he had been greatly tickled by a letter which he had received from one of his inspectors whose habit it was to conclude every letter and report with the words “to oblige.”  The letter ran:  “Dear Sir, I beg to inform you that Horse No. 99 died last night to oblige Yours truly, John Smith.”  He wrote the fine poem of “Little Jim,” which everyone knew, and which almost every boy and girl could recite.  His then well-known song, “My old Wife’s a good old cratur,” was very popular and was sung throughout the Midlands.  The publication of his poems and songs was attended with great success.  His Muse was simple, homely, humorous, pathetic and patriotic, and made a strong appeal to the natural feelings of ordinary folk.  Often it was inspired by incidents and experiences in his daily life.  His desk was in the same office as that in which I worked, and I was very proud of the notice he took of me, and grateful for many kindnesses he showed to me.

After spending twelve months or so in Mr. Parker’s office, I was removed to another department.  The office to which I was assigned had about thirty clerks, all of whom, except the chief clerk, occupied tall stools at high desks.

I was one of two assistants to a senior clerk.  This senior was middle-aged, and passing rich on eighty pounds a year.  A quiet, steady, respectable married man, well dressed, cheerful, contented, he had by care and economy, out of his modest salary, built for himself a snug little double-breasted villa, in a pleasant outskirt of the town, where he spent his spare hours in his garden and enjoyed a comfortable and happy life.

Except the chief clerk, whose salary was about 160 pounds, I do not believe there was another whose pay exceeded 100 pounds a year.  The real head of the office, or department it was called, was not the chief clerk but one who ranked higher still and was styled Head of Department, and he received a salary of about 300 pounds.  Moderate salaries prevailed, but the sovereign was worth much more then than now, while wants were fewer.  Beer was threepence the pint and tobacco threepence the ounce, and beer we drank but never whiskey or wine; and pipes we smoked but not cigars.

This chief clerk was an amiable rather ladylike person, with small hands and feet and well-arranged curly hair.  He was quick and clever and work sat lightly upon him.  Quiet and good natured, when necessity arose he never failed to assert his authority.  We all respected him.  His young wife was pretty and pleasant, which was in his favour too.