But what impressed me most was the part he took next day in the
Railway Carriage Conference, which curiously enough was on the subject
of strikes. There were several people in the carriage, and they were
talking about what they had done during the railway strike last year,
and what they would do if such a thing happened again. I said I should
like to be a station-master if possible, because they had top-hats and
grew such beautiful flowers. Only four or five trains seem to stop at
our station during the day, and if there was a strike I suppose the
number would be reduced to one or two. And I thought it would be
rather nice to spend the day wearing a top-hat and watering the
nasturtiums in the little rock-gardens behind the platform. Watering,
I said, was quite easy when once one got into the swing of it.

But the man who could do everything seemed to know everything too, and
he told me that station-masters were much too noble to strike. There
were two kinds of station-masters, he said, both wearing top-hats,
but one kind with full morning-dress underneath it and the other with
uniform. But neither kind struck.

Slightly nettled at his superior knowledge, I asked him, "What did
_you_ do during the Great Strike?"

"Oh, I had rather fun," he said; "I controlled the signals at London
Bridge."

If all the truth were known I expect that he is quite ready for Mr.
SMILLIE'S strike; that he has a handy little pick in his bedroom and
knows of rather a jolly little coal-mine close by.