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or two for the Rice coal trestle which was on a siding a hundred yards or so south of the Calthrops. It was a nice way to spend the summer. Bessie and Ann were very nice to work for and Mother and I knew them well anyhow. It was good to be active outdoors and acquire a fine tan as an extra benefit. I worked steadily but there was never any pressure on me. Bessie was a rather pretty, middle-aged woman with sandy hair and a round, rosy-cheeked English face, and she was the real gardener, having a good build. Ann was small and had a hare-lip which spoiled her looks. Edith, the married sister, was a short, very dumpy, homely woman, whose looks weren't a circumstance to Bessie's -- but that's the way it is, I guess. And so I put in a very good summer working at the Calthrops and also stoked the fires of my railroad interest without, as yet, having had the faintest notion of ever winding up in anything that had the slightest connection with the railroad industry.

   Looking forward to going to college the following year, I evidently was interested in continuing to earn some money to at least pay part of my tuition; it seemed a foregone conclusion that I'd got to Syracuse to hold down the expense by living at home. So, in the fall of 1919, I got a job working after school and Saturdays at Bardeen's, a school-book publishing concern where Florence DeWolfe worked as a bookkeeper and who was responsible for getting me the job. I was office boy and in addition to working after school, I had to go to the post office [[underline]] before [[/underline]] school, get the mail out of Bardeen's P.O. box and take it over to the office so it would be there when the crew arrived at work. I'd take the street car downtown about 7:15 a.m. as I recall it, get a transfer to a Park Street car, rush over to the Canal Street branch of the post office, get the mail, hike the five blocks to Bardeen's and take the mail up to the third floor offices, then tear for the Park car, hoping the conductor wouldn't be too fussy about the transfer having run out or the fact I took the car at the wrong corner. I arrived at work in the afternoon around 3:30, walking downtown from school to save carfare (5¢), and was through about 6 p.m. and I worked all day Saturday. For this service, I received the munificent sum of $4 per week. After working maybe a month at this salary and reflecting, no doubt, that I was spending at least 60¢ a week for carfare, I decided to ask for a raise to $5 a week. So I hit up Mr. Bardeen, the owner and big boss, who was an elderly man with a white beard. He didn't even put up any argument and the raise went into effect the following week.

   Bardeen's was located in an old four-story yellow brick building on Washington Street (Railroad Street) behind Edward Joy's plumbing goods house just east of Montgomery Street. The printing plant was located on the first two floors, with the office on the third floor, most of which, however, was devoted