The strike became more and more threatening.  I remember being wakened one night and told that the freight-train men had left their trains at Mifflin; that the line was blocked on this account and all traffic stopped.  Mr. Scott was then sleeping soundly.  It seemed to me a pity to disturb him, knowing how overworked and overanxious he was; but he awoke and I suggested that I should go up and attend to the matter.  He seemed to murmur assent, not being more than half awake.  So I went to the office and in his name argued the question with the men and promised them a hearing next day at Altoona.  I succeeded in getting them to resume their duties and to start the traffic.

Not only were the trainmen in a rebellious mood, but the men in the shops were rapidly organizing to join with the disaffected.  This I learned in a curious manner.  One night, as I was walking home in the dark, I became aware that a man was following me.  By and by he came up to me and said: 

“I must not be seen with you, but you did me a favor once and I then resolved if ever I could serve you I would do it.  I called at the office in Pittsburgh and asked for work as a blacksmith.  You said there was no work then at Pittsburgh, but perhaps employment could be had at Altoona, and if I would wait a few minutes you would ask by telegraph.  You took the trouble to do so, examined my recommendations, and gave me a pass and sent me here.  I have a splendid job.  My wife and family are here and I was never so well situated in my life.  And now I want to tell you something for your good.”

I listened and he went on to say that a paper was being rapidly signed by the shopmen, pledging themselves to strike on Monday next.  There was no time to be lost.  I told Mr. Scott in the morning and he at once had printed notices posted in the shops that all men who had signed the paper, pledging themselves to strike, were dismissed and they should call at the office to be paid.  A list of the names of the signers had come into our possession in the meantime, and this fact was announced.  Consternation followed and the threatened strike was broken.

I have had many incidents, such as that of the blacksmith, in my life.  Slight attentions or a kind word to the humble often bring back reward as great as it is unlooked for.  No kind action is ever lost.  Even to this day I occasionally meet men whom I had forgotten, who recall some trifling attention I have been able to pay them, especially when in charge at Washington of government railways and telegraphs during the Civil War, when I could pass people within the lines—­a father helped to reach a wounded or sick son at the front, or enabled to bring home his remains, or some similar service.  I am indebted to these trifles for some of the happiest attentions and the most pleasing incidents of my life.  And there is this about such actions:  they are disinterested, and the reward is sweet in proportion to the humbleness of the individual whom you have obliged.  It counts many times more to do a kindness to a poor working-man than to a millionaire, who may be able some day to repay the favor.  How true Wordsworth’s lines: