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CHAPTER II.
FOURTH OF JULY ON PLANET MARS

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THERE was much commotion on the planet Mars.

As closely as the most patriotic mathematician could reckon time and compare it with a corresponding period on the Earth, it was Fourth of July and the dwellers on Mars decided to celebrate in a “sane” manner.

Everybody to their own liking and the American members of the Pleiades Club determined that this should be the occasion when Colonel Marquis Delafayette Crain should address them on “The Future of the Telegraph.”

The club members began gathering at an early hour, forming into little knots in a semi-circle around the speaker’s stand. It was a “get acquainted” meeting, too, and the committee of arrangements was kept very busy.

“Yes, I have known Bert Ayres for many years and copied press from him many a night,” said O. A. Gurley, as Mr. Ayres was introduced. Merry sallies passed between the two gentlemen, when the gavel sounded with a loud rap and the master of ceremonies introduced Col. Mark D. Crain, the speaker.

Loud and enthusiastic greetings followed this introduction and the Colonel smilingly acknowledged the welcome.

Colonel Crain Delivers Address.

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“I am to speak today upon the future of the telegraph,” he began, but he was interrupted by Ed. Parmalee, who asked him to change his topic to the “past” history of the telegraph.

“Cannot do it just now, as I am all primed with my topic, and some other time will do; besides, you know, we are now in Eternity and we have all the time there is.”

The Colonel then took up his manuscript, which he began to read:

“The telegraph has made astounding progress during the past five years,” he began, “but there are much better things in store for the employes than ever before.

“For instance, a device has been invented which practically annihilates time when it comes to taking messages off the wires.

“A typewriter with the standard keyboard is used, but the combinations are numerous. To an expert, ten words are written with one touch of the key and a fifty-word night letter will be written by simply touching five different keys on the typewriter. It all depends upon knowing how, and you know,” remarked the Colonel merrily, “we get paid for what we know, and not for what we do.

“You can now see that it will take but ten seconds to receive a fifty-word night letter, but the toll to the public is just the same. The companies, however, are willing to divide the earnings with the operators and a new schedule of salaries has been made as follows:

“Operators will receive ten mills for each message handled, but they are required to handle at least 500 messages every hour, their work being confined to five hours a day.

“You see their wages will therefore be $5 per hour, or $25 per day for five hours’ work. The company will not permit an operator to work more than twenty days a month, so the maximum salary for each operator will be $500.

“The company will furnish three meals a day—”

“Did I understand you to say ‘free meals a day?’ ” broke in Jake Tubman, who sat near the speaker.

“I should have said three free meals a day,” laughingly replied the speaker, and, continuing, “and automobiles will call for and return each employe home.

“The chief will meet each operator at the door when he quits for the day and ask him the state of his health, how he enjoyed his work, and if he has any grievance to relate. The manager, too, will greet operators all at the landing of the elevator and ask them if they care to ‘draw’ today.”

“Oh, my, that strikes me about right,” cried out Fred Loomis, and many others showed their appreciation of the innovation.

“All operators will be treated with much consideration and distinction, especial attention being given to pacifying all recalcitrants and smoothing out all kicks and complaints which may arise, but it is thought the programme outlined will wipe out all differences.”

Colonel Crain’s speech was followed with wild applause and a big demonstration. The band played “Happy Days” on the harps.

After order had been restored, Colonel Crain was asked to speak on the “old timers,” it being remarked that he should be quite at home on that topic.

“Yes, I know a few of them,” began Mark. “They came and went when I was in Kansas City, and we always had a delightful time.

“Let’s see, there was Jim Delong—”

“Present,” interrupted the voice of Mr. Delong, amid applause.

The speaker continued:

“Yes, there was Billy Spink, too—”

“Here also,” broke in the familiar voice of Mr. Spink, who received an encore.

“Then there was Frank Farley, Dan Martin, Billy Foy, Jim Cook, Milton Geowey, Harry Smith, John Topliff—”

“Don’t forget me,” broke in Fred Swain, as he swung into sight on the arm of Bob Rankin.

“I’m not going to overlook you,” continued Crain; “I remember the time you wanted to take a trip with me from the window of the tenth floor of the Chicago office, without an aeroplane.”

This remark evoked much merriment among the old timers of Chicago.

“Well, gentlemen, it is a great pleasure to meet and greet you all here today and to realize that we do not have to put a sub. on and that all the wires are always working O. K.”

“That is because you have the pick of the construction department,” smilingly remarked M. C. Bristol, and the assemblage acquiesced.

“Let’s get back to the original text,” said Billy West, who had been deeply interested in Mr. Crain’s address. “I would like to hear more of the future of the telegraph and I greatly enjoy hearing Colonel Crain’s remarks.”

“Yes, here are a few pages that the Colonel overlooked,” said secretary Jim Doody, handing the same to Mr. Crain.

“Ah, yes, I have something else to say and a little story to relate which, I think, you will all be pleased to listen to.”

Silence once more reigned as the speaker began:

“The telegraph stock is away up, Western Union selling for $495 and Postal $415. The companies are studying the advisability of segregating a portion of their stock for charitable purposes, which idea is under consideration by the executive committee.

“An operator will be retired when he has reached the age of thirty with a pension of five years’ salary in advance to enable him to go into some profitable business.”

“I’m glad I am not on Earth to witness such dreadful extravagances,” interrupted Russell Sage, who had been an attentive listener.

“Those are my sentiments also,” cried Jay Gould, who had arrived in time to hear the last part of Colonel Crain’s address.

“My remarks will close with a little story about one of our most distinguished members. The story may not be a new one to you who are here present, but it is a good one,” and Colonel Crain paused.

“Oh, go ahead,” shouted the audience; “let’s have the story.”

“It was about a quarter of a century ago on the planet Mars and a great commotion was going on at the gates. There had been an unusual exodus from Earth, the accommodation train bringing with it many millionaires, all ready to become citizens.

“One man hurriedly left the train and began elbowing his way through the surging crowd.

“Addressing the doorkeeper, the newcomer asked to be admitted instantly, but was told that he must take his turn.

“Indignation filled the newly arrived, who exclaimed, ‘My name is Jay Gould and while on earth I could buy my way in at any place. I did not bring any money with me, but I can give you a check for any amount you say. I want to get in quickly, so just say how much money you want.’

“The doorkeeper paused for a moment and replied: ‘A million up here counts for one cent and a second of time is the same as a thousand years.’

“ ‘All right,’ exclaimed Gould, ‘just tell me how much money you want to let me in.’

“Again did the doorkeeper stop to think, finally ejaculating, ‘One hundred millions.’

“ ‘Here is a check for it,’ said Gould.

“ ‘Wait a minute,’ replied the doorkeeper.

“This conversation occurred about twenty-five years ago and it is evident that Mr. Gould did not ‘wait a minute’ as suggested by the doorkeeper.”

This story was received with a tumult of applause by the entire assemblage, after which the meeting adjourned.

It was understood that the next meeting would be addressed by a number of southern operators, who will relate their telegraphic experience while on Earth.

Pleiades Club—Telegraphers' Paradise on Planet Mars

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