Year book


Material Information

Year book
Physical Description:
v. ;21 cm.
Society of the Chagres
John O. Collins
Place of Publication:
Culebra, C.Z.
Publication Date:


serial   ( sobekcm )


General Note:
Includes "Biographical notes" of members. Began in 1911
General Note:
Panama Canal Museum

Record Information

Source Institution:
University of Florida
Holding Location:
University of Florida
Rights Management:
All rights reserved by the source institution.
Resource Identifier:
aleph - 30180994
oclc - 07092203
System ID:

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Full Text


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Gif of the Panama Canal Museum

Society of the Chagres



JOHN O. COLLINS, Publiher,



A WORD TO MEMBERS................................... 5
HISTORICAL NOTE ....................................... 6
CONSTITUTION............................ ............. 7
ORGANIZATION COMMITTEES ............................... 10
OFFICERS OF THE SOCIETY. .................................
OBITUARY ............................................. 12
ROSTER OF MEMBERS................................... 13
IMPRESSIONS-WISE AND OTHERWISE ....................... 39
TOURISTS AND TOURISTESSES .............................. 59
THE JUNGLE........................................... 69
COLON HOSPITAL DAYS .................................. 85
LYSTER'S FAMILY COFFINS............................... 97
THAT REMINDS ME, BY JOHN O. COLLINS .................. 99
CENTRAL DIVISION FAREWELL ............................. 116
IN THE EARLY DAYS, BY JOHN J. MEEHAN............. ..... 137
LETTERS FROM MEMBERS ................................. 149
BIOGRAPHICAL NOTES ................................... 157

This year book is the immediate concern of each member of the
Society, and, if each of you will help, it can be made a volume of
great interest every year, while the series will be the only source
to which people can look in the future and find the human side of
the Canal story. We have not had time to carry out this theory
this year, but from the pages that follow you can gain some idea
of what we hope to make the book in the future. If every member
will make a practice during the coming year of jotting down inci-
dents, anecdotes, or impressions concerning the Canal life, and then
will send his collection to the Secretary-Treasurer about August
I, 1914, next year's book can be made of great value and interest.
We wish to thank the contributors to this year's book for their
The amount of work involved in compiling the book has become
so great, that we made a contract for editing and publication with
John O. Collins of Culebra. If the results are satisfactory, profes-
sional assistance will be engaged again next year.
W. F. SHIPLEY, Chairman,


The Society of the Chagres was organized in
191I, as the result of a suggestion made by Mr.
William F. Shipley, that men who had served
six years on the Canal or Panama Railroad, prior
to the official opening of the Canal, should have
some special insignia to indicate that service,
and an organization which would keep alive
memories of the canal construction days.
A meeting was held at the University Club in
Panama on the night of August 12, 1911, at which
preliminaries were discussed, and an executive
committee of five was appointed to proceed with
the work of organizing. This committee con-
sisted of John K. Baxter, chairman; C. A. Mc-
Ilvaine, treasurer; John J. Meehan, William F.
Shipley, and R. E. Wood.
The first general meeting was held at the
Strangers' Club in Colon on the evening of
October 7, when the constitution, as drafted by
the executive committee, and the choice of
name and emblem were approved. The name
was suggested by Mr. W. G. Comber, and the
emblem by Mr. C. A. McIlvaine. The charter
roll was closed with 207 members.


Adopted by the Society of the Chagres at its meeting held at the
Strangers' Club, Colon, Republic of Panama, October 7, Ig11.
ARTICLE I. The name of this Society shall be "THE SociETY OF
ART. 2. The objects of the Society shall be to hold an annual
reunion of the members, and to publish annually a roster of their
names and current addresses, to keep alive the pleasant associations
and memories connected with the work in which they have each
spent six or more years of their lives; and to promote their common
interests by such other means as may appear desirable from year
to year.
ART. 3. Membership in the Society shall be limited to white em-
ployees of the Isthmian Canal Commission or of the Panama Rail-
road Company of good character, who have earned the Roosevelt
Canal Medal and two bars prior to the official opening of the Canal.
ART. 4. The Society shall hold its regular annual meeting on the
night of the third Saturday in January. Special meetings may be
called by the President, if necessity therefore should arise. Meetings
shall be held on the Isthmus of Panama unt:l the year I9gS, and
thereafter, either on the Isthmus or in any city of the United States
as the Society shall determine from year to year.
ART. s. The officers of the Society shall be a President, a Vice-
President, a Secretary-Treasurer, and an Executive Committee
consisting of the foregoing and four other members. No salaries
shall be paid to the officers and, excepting the Secretary-Treasurer,
no officer who has served one full term shall be eligible for reelection
for the next ensuing term.
ART. 6. The President shall preside at meetings of the Society
and of the Executive Committee.

ART. 7. The Vice-President shall act in the absence of the Presi-
ART. 8. The Secretary-Treasurer shall keep all records of the
Society, collect its initiation fees and dues, and have the custody of
its funds. He shall acknowledge all receipts in writing, and secure
the President's approval for all expenditures. He shall be bonded
at the expense of the Society, and he shall submit to the Society an
annual report of his receipts and disbursements.
ART. 9. The Executive Committee shall carry out the plans of
the Society from year to year; make all necessary arrangements for
the annual reunion; pass on the eligibility of applicants for mem-
bership; audit the accounts of the Secretary-Treasurer; and pub-
lish a year-book to contain a roster of the members with their cur-
rent addresses and biographical notes, and the reports of the officers
of the Society.
ART. io. The Executive Committee shall be authorized to select
a member of the Society to fill any vacancy in the office of President
Vice-President, Secretary-Treasurer, or in its own membership,
which may occur during the course of the year.
ART. ii. Four members of the Executive Committee shall con-
stitute a quorum for the transaction of business, provided due notice
of the meeting shall have been given to all members, including those
ART. 12. The Executive Committee is authorized to pass reim-
bursement vouchers to cover actual expenses incurred by officers
or members in transacting the necessary business of the Society.
ART. x3. The Executive Committee is not authorized to incur
expenses which will exceed the amount of funds in the Treasury.
ART. 14. The emblem of the Society shall be a circular pin or
button, nine-sixteenths of an inch in diameter, showing on a black
background surrounded by a narrow gold border six horizontal bars
in gold. The emblem shall be issued by the Secretary-Treasurer
to qualified members only, upon payment of the initiation fee
sufficient to cover its cost, and of dues for one year.
ART. 15. The annual dues shall be three dollars, payable on
January i, for the next ensuing year; provided that only charter
members will be required to pay dues for the year 1911. Only

members who shall have joined the Society on or before October 7,
ix9x, shall be charter members.
ART. 16. Any ten members may nominate a fellow member for
election to any of the offices of the Society, but all such nommations
must be submitted to the Secretary-Treasurer in writing not later
than October 31. As soon thereafter as possible, but in any event
not later than November 15 the Secretary-Treasurer shall prepare
and mail to each member of the Society a ballot containing the
names of all candidates nominated for each office. At the annual
meeting of the Society, the vote cast by letter ballot shall be can-
vassed, and those candidates receiving a plurality of the votes shall
be declared elected.
ART. 17. Amendments to this constitution may be proposed by
any ten members, and shall be submitted to the Society by the
Secretary-Treasurer for vote by letter ballot. Two-thirds of the
votes cast shall be necessary to carry an amendment; provided,
however, that an amendment of Article 3 may be made only with
the concurrence of two-thirds of the entire membership, by letter


July 22 to August z2, zpzz.


August 12 to October 7, z9pz.
JoHN K. BAXTER, Chairman C A. MCILVAINE, Treasurer


October 7, Xgpi to January 20, 191z.







Members of the Executive Committee.


January 20, 9zgi to February az, 19z3.







Members of the Executive Committee.


February 21, 1913 to January 17, z194.







Members of the Executive Committee.


Vice Mr. John K. Baxter, resigned. tVice Dr. Lloyd Noland,



Coup, E. H.










Charter members indicated by *
Deceased members indicated by t

Name States or Non-Isthmian Address
i Albin, Mrs. W. H., 12o Farwell St. Newtonville, Mass.
2 Albrecht. John E., Gansevoort, N. Y.
3 Anderson, Charles J., 1823 North Bouvier St., Philadelphia, Pa.
4 Anderson, Frank A., 1827 Nostrand Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y.
*5 Anderson, Henry, 309 29th Ave., San Francisco, Cal.
6 Andrews, Isaac H., 281 Concord St., Gloucester, Mass.
7 Andrews, Rollen F.
*8 Angel, J. C., c/o Dr. J. G. Blount, Washington, D. C.
*9 Armiger, George, 914 North Collington Ave., Baltimore, Md.
o1 Arthur, Allan, Houston, Tex.
*xr Ashton, W F.. Calumet, Mich.
12 Atkins, John, Greenville, Miss.
*13 Atterbury, Thomas C., Waldwick, N. J.
*i4 Austin, Charles B.
15 Austin, Edward M., The Blacherne, Indianapolis, Ind.
*i6 Avery, James A, Oakdale, Allegheny County, Pa.
17 Azima, Michael C., c/o Citizens National Bank, Alexandria,Va.

18 Babbitt, R. W., Meriden, Connecticut.
19 Bailey, Robert, Fairview, Nev.
20 Barnes, Wm. I.
21 Barnett, James C., 921 Hanna St., Fort Wayne. Ind.
*22 Barte, George A., Dayton, O.
23 Bates, Phil M., Vancouver, Wash.
24 Bates, W. H., 22oo Kauffman Ave., Vancouver, Wash.
25 Bath, Charles H., 99 Winthrop St., New Britain, Conn.

26 Baxter, H.
*27 Baxter, John K., St. Pierre, St. Pierre Island, Newfoundland.
28 Beam, W. I., c/o Union Transfer Co., Philadelphia, Pa.
29 Beard, Frederick S., 215 West x4oth St., New York City.
*3ozBeckel, W. 0., Terre Haute, Ind.
*31 Bedell, W. H., 2507 7th Ave., Rock Island, Ill.
32 Beetham, Charles H.
*33 Belt, Josiah, Wakefield, Carroll County, Md.
*34 Benninger, Sherman A., c/o C. L. Van Scoten, Montrose, Pa.
*35 Berger, Albert, 4229 Fergus St., Cincinnati, O.
*36 Bergin, Ralph W., Jeffersontown, Ky.
37 Betebenner, Howard, Carthage, Mo.
38 Bethea, James K., 1763 U St., N. W., Washington, D. C.
*39 Beverley, Dr. E. P., Broad Run, Va.
40 Bissell, Walter J., General Delivery, Rochester, N. Y.
41 Blake, Arthur 0., R. F. D. No. 2, Hobart, Ind.
42 Blakeman, Will C., 1657 Peoria St., Toledo, O.
43 Bliefield, William, 1oIo North 6th St., Saginaw, Mich.
44 Bliss, Gerald D., Shermanj N. Y.
45 Bloss, Harry I., Miamisburg, O.
*46 Bodette, Wm., 140 Rubidoux Ave., Riverside, Cal.
47 Boland, John, 913 Jefferson St., N. W., Washington, D. C.
*48 Booth, Rufus K., 414 Clifton Ave., Lakewood, N. J.
*49 Bottenfield, F. M. D., Decatur, Ga.
*50 Bovay, Harry E., Rodney, Mich.
51 Boyle, Edward M.
*52 Bradberry, Randall T., 615 Geary St., Harrisburg, Pa.
53 Bradney, Madison F., West Union, O.
54 Brady, Clyde, 2II6 West Broadway, Louisville, Ky.
*S5 Brewer, W. T., 1615 Liberty St., Jacksonville, Fla.
56 Bridges, Harry L.
57 Broderick, Timothy J.
58 Bronk, A. E., Oruro, Bolivia, S. A,
59 Brown, E. L., 1o7 South Main St., Sapulpa, Okla.
60 Brown, George, Missoula, Mont.
6x Brown, George A.
62 Brown, Robert H., Missouri Valley, Ia.
63 Brown, Walter G.
64 Brown, Warren E., Eastport, Me.
65 Brown, Warren J.

66 Bryant, Joseph, Sea Girt, N. J.
67 Buchan, George, Henderson, N. C.
68 Burdge, Leroy E.
*69 Burke, John, c/o Columbia Club, Indianapolis, Ind.
70 Burmester, Edward A., 230 South Wier Ave., Benson, Neb.
71 Burnham, Howard D., 31 South Hudson St., Hartford, Conn.
*72 Bushnell, H. H., Hyannis, Neb.
73 Butler, James E., 121 East Ransom St., Kalamazoo, Mich.
74 Butler, Thomas James.
75 Butler, William H., Alexandria, Va.
76 Butters, Charles M., 51 Church St., Somerville, Mass.

*77 Caldwell, Bert W., Effingham, Ill.
78 Calvert, F. G.
79 Cameron, Mrs. Florence Bell, Accord, N. Y.
*80 Cantwell, Matthew D., 902 East 3rd St., Duluth, Minn.
*8x Cappers, W. F., Windsorville, Me.
*82 Carpenter, Marcy H., Bay Minette, Ala.
*83 Carroll, Lon N., 7538 Normal Ave., Chicago, Ill.
*84 Carson, George B., Vernon, Ind.
85 Carter, Charles H., 97 Herkimer St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
86 Carter, William.
t87 Catto, John F., 265 East 31st St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
88 Chamberlain, Daniel T., Salem, Ore.
89 Chambers, W. R., 2423 East 5th Ave., Spokane, Wash.
*90 Chester, W. C., 944 Oak Street, Oakland Cal.
*g9 Clark T. H. 138 Poplar St., Jackson, Tenn.
*92 Cleary, J. W., Earleigh Heights, Saverna Park, Md.
*93 Clement, Charles C. Mosier, Ore.
94 Clisbee, Frank A., 234 Connecticut Ave., New London, Conn.
*95 Close, Joseph A., 123 Myrtle Ave., Stamford, Conn.
96 Coffey, N. E., Lane, Kan.
97 Cohen, Jacob, 44 Devon St., Roxbury, Mass.
t*98 Colip, E. H., Raton, New Mexico.
99 Comber, W. G.
zoo Conlan, Charles P., Toledo, O.
xox Conner Frank W., 1932 Ashland Ave., Indianapolis, Ind.
*xo2 Connolly, M. B.
1o3 Connor, M. E., 84 Main St., Amesbury, Mass.
*io4 Connors, Neil.

zo5 Conrad, Moise, B. P. O. E. Lodge No. 30, Basin and Canal St.,
New Orleans, La.
*zo6 Constantine, John, San Francisco, Cal.
zo7 Cook, Charles B., Wabasso, Fla.
*zo8 Cooke, Tom M.
*zog Cornish, Frank L., Kearsarge Hotel, Portsmouth, N. H.
nzo Cornish, Mrs. Frank L., 2319 South izth St., St. Louis, Mo.
iii Cornish, Lorenzo D.
*i12 Cornwell, Albert E., 172 Franklin St., Meriden, Conn.
113 Corrigan, John P., Pomonkey, Charles County, Md.
*114 Corrigan, Joseph A., Pomonkey, Charles County, Md.
1x5 Corrigan, Peter.
Ix6 Cosgrove, James, Spiingfield, Mass.
*1x7 Cotton, Arthur E., Beichmont Revere, Mass.
118 Cotton, Frank, Terrell, Fla.
x19 Crabtree, George H., c/o Surgeon General, U. S. A., Wash-
ington, D. C.
*I2o Crafts, Charles P., Tuscola, Ill.
121 Craig, James G., Atlanta, Ga.
122 Culbertson, X. W., Covington, Ky.
123 Curran, Taylor T., c/o Isthmian Canal Commission, Wash-
ington, D. C.
124 Custy, Thomas, 755 St. Johns Ave., Lima, O.
125 Daly, Charles C., 107 Hollow Ave., Jerseyville, Ill.
*126 Davidson, Silas, The Ansonia, Broadway and 73rd St., New
York City.
127 Davies, Richard M., 821 Webster St., N. W., Washington,D.C.
128 Davis, Edward, Memphis, Tenn.
*z29 Davis, John R., 53 Hill St., New Bedford, Mass.
z3o Davoll, Charles E.
131 Dawson, A.-J., 6oo Cleveland Ave., Elkhart, Ind.
132 Decker, Elizabeth, Rockport, Pa.
133 Deems, Ernest A., 315 East Maiden St., Washington, Pa.
134 DeGrummond, J. R.
135 Delano, Fred E., 615 Weatherford St., Fort Worth, Tex.
136 DeLaVergne, J. C., Esperance, N. Y.
137 Deneen, J., 4855 Merion Ave., West Philadelphia, Pa.
138 Dennis, Durward W., Forsyth, Ga.
139 deObarrio, P., 240 Stockton St., San Francisco, Cal.
*z4o Dewling, Andrew W., 1226 Riverside Ave., Baltimore, Md.

14x Dibowski, Charles J.
142 Dickinson, Albert M., xz6 East Carolina Ave., Memphis, Tenn.
143 Dickinson, William E., 881 Fourth Ave., Detroit, Mich.
*I44 Dillon, V. C., Indiahoma, Okla.
145 Dohrmann, Henry W. 2522 Frankfort Ave., Louisville, Ky.
146 Donahoe, Tim J., Knoxville, Tenn.
*i47 Donahue, Daniel F., Newburyport, Mass.
148 Donaldson, William J., Houston, Tex.
*149 Douglas, Gavin, 1523 Chase St., Cincinnati, O.
50o Dovell, J. P., 8 Canton St., Baltimore, Md.
151 Downes William.
152 Drake, T. M., 5143 Homan Ave., Chicago, Ill.
153 Driscoll, Michael J., 76 Parker Hill Ave., Boston, Mass.
*I54 Duckworth, J. T., 409 North St., Logansport, Ind.
*155 Duey, C. W., 1827 North St., Harrisburg, Pa.
x56 Duncan, Samuel, 517 Lake View Ave., San Antonio, Tex.
*157 Dunning, W. E., Henkel Building, Buffalo, N. Y.
158 Dutrow, H. V., Reibold Building, Dayton, O.

x59 Earhart, Troy W.
*i6o Eason, John J., Norfolk, Va.
16x Eden, Herbert L., Mobile, Ala.
*162 Edholm, Karl, Box 628, Johnsonburg, Pa.
163 Eidnier, B. F.
x64 Ekedahl, Olaf, New York City.
*165 Ellerbe, J. C., Summerville, S. C.
*x66 Emery, Walter, Memphis, Tenn.
*167 Englander, Max, 133 West i4oth St., New York City.
168 Eno, Harry, Belgium, N. Y.
169 Ensey, C. R., Starke, Bradford C4unty, Fla.
*x7o Erginzinger, Wm. J., Star Route, Corona, Cal.
171 Ernstdorf, Arthur R., Logan, Ia.
172 Erskine, William A., 124 West Alameda, Denver, Col.
173 Ewing, Ora M., Glenville, Gilmer County, W. Va.

174 Fagan, Samuel, 2x9 Canal St., New York City.
*175 Fairbanks, Helen G., Natick, Mass.
176 Falkner, George E., Wyoming, New York
177 Falkner, William H., 75 Hague St., Rochester, N. Y.
*178 Farish, H. S., 319 Hinton Ave., Charlottesville, Va.

x79 Farlee, William A., Washington, D. C.
*i8o Farmer, Alfred G., 5 Park Place, Athens, O.
x8i Farrell, Wm. H., Burlington Vermont.
*182 Faure, Ad, 219 Varieties Alley, New Orleans, La.
183 Fechtig, E. M., 245 Prospect St., Hagerstown, Md.
*184 Feld, Frederick A., 1825 ist Ave., Birmingham, Ala.
x85 Fennell, B. M., Richmond, Va.
*186 Ferber, Louise A., 88 Broadway, Taunton, Mass.
*x87 Ferebee, F. B., 6Io East Brambleton Ave., Norfolk, Va.
288 Fey, William L., 324 Harris E, Savannah, Ga.
189 Finch, Ernest V. L., Union Transfer Co., Philadelphia, Pa.
*"go Finley, Lee L., i364 East Farrell St., San Francisco, Cal.
x19 Fisher, Allen D., Greenville, Mich.
.92 Fleischman, Isaac H., 722 Russelwood Ave., West Park, Pa.
*193 Floyd, Frank, i5 East xbth St., New York City.
*194 Forman, J. C., 615 West Ist St., Fort Worth, Tex.
195 Fortney, Camden P.
196 Foster, Elmo M.
197 Foster, William F., Louisville, Ky.
t+98 Fowler, Jay Frank, Philadelphia, Pa.
199 Fox, Maurice W., 430 Cass Ave., Detroit, Mich.
200 Farrow, Peter, 921 Jefferson Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y.
2or French, Marvin L., Lodge, Va.
*202 Frost, Mrs. Julia M.

203 Gallagher, Harry J., 6z Court St., Boston, Mass.
204 Gallagher, William P., East Milton, Mass.
205 Galliher, Edward L.
206 Gannon, Harry F., Gainesville, N. Y.
207 Garcon, Edward J., Sacramento, Cal.
*208 Garrison, Edgar S., Denison, Ia.
209 Garvin, Patrick J., 6o Warburton Ave., Yonkers, N. Y.
210 Geddes, Albert H. New York City.
*2xi Geddes, C. R., Bartow, Fla.
212 Gerow, Wm., Friendship, N. Y.
*213 Gibson, John K., iiS South 54th St., Philadelphia, Pa.
214 Gilbert, James J., Kinston, N. C.
*215 Gilbert, William, 59 Court House Place, Jersey City, N. J.
*216 Gilkey, Lloyd L., Vicksburg, Miss.
*2x6 Gimore, C. E., "Clover Hill," Marlboro, Mass.

218 Gimore, Maurice E., Danville, Ky.
219 Glaw, R. W., 68 Prospect Terrace, Freeport, Ill.
220 Goethals, George W.
*221 Goldsmith, Edwin F. J., 379 31st St., Milwaukee, Wis.
222 Goodenow, A. B., Cairo, Ga.
*223 Gorgas, W. C., c/o Surgeon General, U. S. A., Washington,
224 Gorham, F. L., Waverly, Mass.
*225 Gorham, Geo. H., Roxbury, Mass.
226 Gorham, Luzella G., Waverly, Mass.
227 Graham, William F., Bristol, Pa.
*228 Greeley, H. L., 18o East River St., Hyde Park, Mass.
*229 Green, W. H., Ninth St., Elmira Heights, N. Y.
*23o Greene, Frank E., 0ox3 Wabash Ave., Detroit, Mich.
231 Grier, Samuel Jr., Cedar Rapids, la.
*232 Griggs, Albert C., xSo Nassau St., New York City.
233 Grinder, Joseph B., 319 7th St., N. E., Washington, D. C.
*234 Grissom, J. T., 1149 Kentucky Ave., Bowling Green, Ky.
235 Grove, Blanche, Hamilton, Pa.
236 Groves, Richard B., Windsor Locks, Conn.
*237 Guderian, Frederick, 3025 4th Ave., South, Minneapolis, Minn.
*238 Gudger, H. A., Asheville, N. C.

*239 Hackenberg, Austin L., Akron, O.
240 Haines, Abram L., Fultonham, N. Y.
241 Haldeman, Ezra P., 1313 18th Ave., Altoona, Pa.
242 Halligan, Thomas Michael, Toledo, O.
*243 Halloran, George B., Pittsfield, Mass.
244 Hamilton, C. J.
245 Hammond, Robert S., Fruitland Park, Fla.
246 Hanson, H. C., Fredericks Apartments, Oakland, Cal.
247 Harris, Charles H., Chino, Cal.
248 Harrison, T. William, 2034 Cortland St., Chicago, Ill.
*249 Harrod, Ernest E., Gainesvlle, Fla.
250 Hart, Henry A., Hotel Endicott, New York City.
251 Hartley, Edwin B., 32 East 31st St., New York City.
*252 Harvey, R. J., Martel, Tenn.
253 Harwood, Robert, 128 North 5th St., Steubenville, O.
254 Hathaway, Milton S., Louisville, Ky.
255 Hayes, Harry S., Whitehouse, 0.

256 Haynes, John N., Perryville, N. Y.
257 Hehn, Mary, Montgomery, Orange County, N. Y.
258 Heinrich, Amandus, 913 Pearl River Ave., McComb, Miss.
259 Helliksen, Ludvig A., x61 Wilkinson, Jersey City, N. J.
260 Henkle, Benjamin F., Pamplin City, Va.
261 Hennen, Lawrence W., Deer Park, Md.
*262 Henry, William D., Cistern P. O., Fayette County, Tex.
263 Herman, Albert 0., Terrace Park, Ohio.
264 Herrick, Alfred B., Amsterdam, N. Y.
265 Herrington, Walter W., Cambridge, N. Y.
266 Heverly, Ernest W.
267 Hoagland, Richard C., 519 Coate Ave., Dayton, O.
t268 Holcomb, Benoni E., Stanton, Mich.
*269 Holden, George, 854 Broadway, New York City.
*270 Holliday, Mary, 30 North James St., Carthage, N. Y.
271 Hollowell, Fred, Harrison, O.
*272 Hostetter, H. O., El Reno, Okla.
*273 Houston, J. F., Covington, Ky.
274 Howard, R. C., Greenville, Tenn.
275 Howe, Herbert H.
276 Hoyt, P. G., c/o Panama Railroad Co., 24 State St., New York
*277 Hubbard, E. L., San Jose, Costa Rica.
278 Hughes, William E., 823 Garden St., Hoboken, N. J.
279 Hull, William G., 42 Linwood Place, East Orange, N. J.
280 Hummer, C. D.
*281 Humphreys, James T., Hovious, Adair County, Ky.
*282 Hunt, J. St. C., 629 West 138th St., New York City.
*283 Hunter, C. D., Mt. Olive, N. C.
284 Hunter, George, 226 Eckford St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
*285 Huntoon, Robert J., Rutland, Vermont.

286 Illia, John D., 270 ioth Ave., San Francisco, Cal.

*287 Jackson, J. J., c/o Q. M. General, U. S. A., Washington, D. C.
288 James, William M.
*289 Jenkins, Ben, Onaga, Kan.
290 Johannes, Guy, 941 North Mount St., Baltimore, Md.
291 John, William W., 20oo Davenport St., Omaha, Neb.
292 Johnson, F. E., Pomono, Mo.

293 Johnson, Nelson R., Billings, Mont.
294 Johnson, Pearl A., 2541 Neil Ave., Columbus, O.
295 Jones, Annie L., Gold Dust, La.
296 Jordan, John P., Haymarket, Va.
297 Jorgensen, Einar L.
298 Julien, Clark, Dayton, O.
299 Jury, Frank J., Galt, Cal.
*3oo Jussen, A. S., 83 Hamilton Place, New York City.

t*3oiKallish, B. A., 25th St. and 3rd Ave., Brooklyn, N. Y.
302 Kane, John H., Bonner Springs, Kan.
303 Keefe, John H., I65 Audubon Ave., New York City.
304 Keeler, Thomas L., 821 Webster St., Washington, D. C.
*3o5 Keeling, E. A., The Plymouth, Washington, D. C.
306 Keeling, James R., Pensacola, Fla.
307 Kemp, Sr., James, 202 Plainfield Ave., Jersey City, N. J.
*3o8 Kendall, Charles E., 1728 i5th St., N. W., Washington, D. C.
309 Kenealy, Patrick F., 826 West 59th St., Los Angeles, Cal.
30o Kennedy, Archie.
311 Kennedy, Arthur W., Jasper, Ala.
312 Keyser, Elgie M., R. F. D., No. i, Roanoke, Ind.
*313 Kiernan, J. C., 32 St. Nicholas Place, New York City.
314 King, John M., i7th St. and Prospect Ave., Santa Ana, Cal.
315 Kirby, Jeremiah F., 19 Sheffield Ave., Newport, R. I.
316 Kirk, George E., Bordentown, N. J.
317 Kittel, Charles, 597 Woodbine St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
318 Keerner, Charles F., 1215 O St., Lincoln, Neb.
319 Krueger, Charles J., 461 28th Place, Chicago, Ill.
320 Kyte, E. M., South Framingham, Mass.
*321 Kyte, J. P., South Framingham Mass.

322 Larcom, B. L., 113 North Cevallos St., Pensacola, Fla.
323 LaRock, Herbert, 2052 Walnut St., Chicago, Ill.
*324 LaRock, John, 2052 Walnut St., Chicago, Ill.
*325 Larson, Leander, Kirkland, Ill.
*326 Laughlin, R. E., 8523 Sycamore Place, New Orleans, La.
327 Lavery, Mathew, Corpus Christi, Tex.
328 Lawlor, William A.
329 Lawrence, Wilbur S., 7154 Harvard Ave., Chicago, Ill.
330 Leason, Harry, Jacksonville Heights, Fla.

331 Leonard, Edward, 238 East 4ist St., New York City.
332 Lewis, Clifford C., Taft Place, Roslindale, Mass.
333 Lewis, Fitz J., 2312 Ursline Ave., New Orleans, La.
334 Lingle, George S., Blanchard, Pa.
335 Lipsey, T. E. L., Lincolnton, N. C.
336 Lohman, Charles H., Brooklyn, N. Y.
337 Lotz, Henry W., 1729 Indiana Ave., Connersville, Ind.
*338 Loulan, Frank, 63 North Front St., Greenville, Pa.
339 Loulan, James A., 63 North Front St., Greenville, Pa.
340 Loulan, John T., 63 North Front St., Greenville, Pa.
341 Lowe, George, Sherman, Tex.
*342 Lucchesi, A. P., 45 Greenwich Ave., New York City.
343 Luce, R. H. 314 North Aydelotte St., Shawnee, Okla.
344 Luckey, John J. 3635 Roll Ave., Cincinnati, O.
345 Luedtke, C. L.
*346 Lundishef, AlexanderA., GeneralPostOffice, San Francisco, Cal.
*347 Lupfer, C. M., 30 South 3rd St., Reading, Pa.
348 Luther, Arthur T., 12 Sheldon St., Providence, R. I.
349 Lynn, Lewis M.
350 Lynn, William J., 6909 Independence Rd., Kansas City, Mo.
351 Lyons, Mary V., 3415 Barding St., Philadelphia, Pa.

*35a MacCormack, D. W., 444 Warren St., Roxbury, Boston, Mass.
353 Mack, Frank, McLean, Va.
*354 Mackereth, Adelaide P., Avondale, Pa.
355 Mackintosh, Joseph, New York City.
356 MacLean, Neil, Estherville, Ia.
357 MacPherson, George W., Whistler, Ala.
358 Mahoney, Patrick J., 68 Warren Ave., Woburn, Mass.
359 Major, John I., R. F. D., No. i, Flushing, O.
360 Malia, John T., Box 78, Thompsonville, Conn.
361 Malsbury, O. E., 219 Jackson Ave., Joplin, Mo.
*362 Mansfield, Henry C., Box 3, Bocas del Toro, R. de P.
363 Marsh, William H. 8 U. S. Ave. Plattsburg N. Y.
364 Martin, James E., R. F. D. No. 2, Clay, N. Y.
*365 Martin, Wm. A., The Portner, cor. i5th and U Sts., N. W.,
Washington, D. C.
366 Mason, A. P., i94 Shurtleff St., Chelsea, Mass.
t*367 Mattimore, H. B., 281 Fulton St., Buffalo, N. Y.
*368 Maxon, Wm. E., Plattsmouth, Neb.

369 May, William Howard.
370 McCann, W. E. 6148 Wabash Ave., Chicago, Ill.
371 McCoin, O. E., Winston-Salem, N. C.
372 McCollough, D. H., Southern Mfg's Club, Charlotte, N. C.
373 McCormack, Wi. T., Jewell, Ia.
374 McCormick, Edward B., Scottsburg, Va.
375 McCormick, Percy C., Middlefield, O.
376 McCulloch, John A.
*377 McDonald, D. E.
378 McGimsey, J. V., 220 Euclid Ave., Atlanta, Ga.
*379 McGown, A., x55 West io6th St., New York City.
380 McGuigan, Joseph J., Wilkes-Barre, Pa.
*381 McIlvaine, C. A., Creston, O.
382 McKenna, R. M., 141 Englewood Ave., Detroit, Mich.
383 McMahon, John C., Savannah, Ga.
384 McNamara, Gordon G., c/o Home Savings Bank, Washington,
D. C.
385 McNeal, George A., 140o West Lanvale St., Baltimore, Md.
386 McNutt, Edward E., R. F. D., No. 5, Ballston Spa, N. Y.
387 McRobert, William W., x58o Jefferson St., Buffalo, N. Y.
388 Mead, J. P., Kent, O.
*389 Mealer, Charles L., Spring City, Tenn.
*390 Meech, Marietta L., iSo Bellview St., Benton Harbor, Mich.
*391 Meehan, J. J., Wilkes-Barre, Pa.
392 Melgord, Julius J., 1307 Rucker Ave., Everett, Wash.
*393 Middleton, N. B., c/o James Ladnier, Gulfport, Miss.
394 Miles, L. E.
395 Miller, Albert F., Alma, Kan.
396 Mitchel, Edward W., 8o1 Diamond St., Philadelphia, Pa.
397 Mitchell, Earle C., Spokane, Wash.
398 Mitchiell, Charles D., Baltimore, Md.
399 Moffat, David H., 3525 Zumstein Ave., Cincinnati, O.
400 Montgomery, James M.
4o0 Moore, Edward.
402 Moran, William A., 57 Imson St., Buffalo, N. Y.
403 Moreny, Vincent.
404 Morley, J. Frank.
*405 Morris, Robert K., 1833 California Ave., N.W., Washington,
D. C.
406 Morris, Webster, 340 Monmouth St., Newport, Ky.

407 Morrison, W. F.
*408 Mullin, John W., 202 Avenue A, Lawton, Okla.
*409 Murphy, Robert E., Lynchburg, O.
410 Murphy, Zan, Stanford, Ky.
411 Murray, John J., Johnsonburg, Pa.

412 Naegele, Ferdinand, 412 Front St., Lake Charles, La.
*413 Nelson, Clyde A., Carver, Minn.
414 Newbold, George W. K., Manhasset, Long Island, N. Y.
*415 Nichols, A. B., 3221 Race St., Philadelphia, Pa.
416 Nielsen, C. L., 438 39th St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
417 Nims, Willard W., Golden, Ill.
*418 Ninas, George A., 1420 Jefferson St., Kansas City, Mo.
*419 Noland, Lloyd, Middleburg, Va.
420 Northrop, Charles W., Jr., Poughkeepsie, N. Y.
*421 Nunn, Nuna, New Berne, N. C.
422 Nupp, Warren, 300 Renova St., Pittsburg, Pa.

423 O'Brien, Thomas, 5403 9th St., N. W., Washington, D. C.
424 O'Leary, Joseph, Glenburn, N. D.
425 Omeallia, Ruth.
426 O'Neal, Lucius A., Anderson, S. C.
427 Orenstein, A. J.
*428 Otis, Harry W., Box 67, North Scituate, Mass.
*429 Owens, Charles T., 1830 St. Paul St., Baltimore, Md.
*430 Owens, John, 174 South St., Newark, N. J.

*431 Palmer, E. W., c/o Depot Quartermaster, Washington, D. C.
432 Palmer, George W. A., 3847 North Marshall St., Philadelphia,
433 Parker, Charles, Bozeman, Mont.
*434 Parker, Charles L., c/o Robt. E. Parker, War Department,
Washington, D. C.
435 Parmeter, Frank S., 509 6th Ave., Cedar Rapids, Ia.
*436 Patterson, A. C., 128 North St., Calais, Me.
*437 Patterson, W. O.
438 Pearson, Herbert, Fairmount, Ind.
*439 Pender, W. I., Hendersonville, N. C.
440 Pendry, Charles A., 32 Fair Place, Rochester, N. Y.
441 Pennell, George B., Radersburg, Mont.

442 Perkins, Samuel M.
*443 Perry, J. C., c/o P. H. & M. H. Service, Washington, D. C.
444 Perry, Walter L. G.
*445 Perry, Wilbur S., 1230 B St., S. W., Washington, D. C.
446 Persons, Charles L., Saint Peter, Minn.
447 Peterson, Julius M., Omaha, Neb.
448 Peterson, Walter, 25 West 9th St., Jamestown, N. Y.
449 Pettoletti, Lauritz, Chicago, Ill.
450 Phillips, Jack.
*451 Phillips, John L., Medical Corps, U. S. A., Washington, D. C.
452 Pickel, Oscar C., 325 Market St., Philadelphia, Pa.
453 Pickett, Ira W., Versailles, Ind.
*454 Pierce, Claude C., c/o P. H. & M. H. Service, Washington,
455 Pierson, Glen H., Robbinsville, N. J.
456 Polk, William F., Miami, Fla.
457 Poole, Bernell C., 453 4th St., Niagara Falls, N. Y.
*458 Potter, Russell B., 177 Brunswicke Ave., Trenton, N. J.
*459 Potts, Frederick A., 2211 Cedar St., Milwaukee, Wis.
460 Potts, I. R., General Delivery, Philadelphia, Pa.
461 Potts, S. C., Lake Waccamaw, N. C.
462 Prial, Mary, 59 East 95th St., New York City.
463 Price, E. E. Almeda, Tex.
464 Price, H., 1028 Banks, Superior, Wis.
465 Pring, Clyde E., 1329 East Main St., Shawnee, Okla.

466 Quinby, Benjamin C., Wenham, Mass.

467 Rabbitt, David F., 718 Huron St., Toledo, O.
468 Rall, Emil J., c/o George F. Klug, Savannah, Ga.
469 Randall, Ortez G., 702 8ist St., North, Seattle, Wash.
470 Raymond, Frank, New York City.
471 Readle, William H., 142 7th St., San Bernardino, Cal.
472 Reed, Edward L., 2817 Accomac St., St. Louis, Mo.
473 Reeder, Dinnis F., Benton, Ky.
*474 Reid, Howard M., Punta Gorda, Fla.
*475 Reidy, J. J., 81 Summer St., Lynn, Mass.
476 Reynolds, William T.
477 Richmond, John, 554 West i6oth St., New York City.
478 Roberts, Richard.

479 Robertson, William T., Mascotte, Fla.
*48o Robinson, A. L., c/o Humphrey Robinson, American National
Bank, Louisville, Ky.
481 Robinson, Rennie R., 829 Jackson St., North Topeka, Kan.
482 Roche, Paul Edward, Brooklyn, N. Y.
483 Roessner, William E., San Ysidro, Cal.
484 Roudabush, Robert M., Harrisonburg, Va.
485 Rounsevell, Guy K., Lemon City, Fla.
*486 Rowe, Hartley, Goodland, Ind.
487 Rowley, William.
488 Ruch, Omar J., Allentown, Pa.
*489 Ruggles, George H., Greenwich, O.
*490 Russell, Genevieve, c/o Sterling Russell, Bradley St. P. O., St.
Paul, Minn.
491 Russell, William G., c/o Dr. J. J. Russell, Hazleton, Pa.
492 Rutledge, Richard B., 430 South Main St., Ada, O.

*493 Sands, R. M., Rerdell, Fla.
494 Sartor, Ralph H., Elmira, N. Y.
495 Sarvey, Wesley M., 185 Lincoln Ave., Lincoln Park, N. Y.
*496 Sawtelle, H. W., 2 Grove St., Auburn, Me.
497 Scheets, L. G., z168 Oakwood Ave., Toledo, O.
498 Selby, F. Payne.
*499 Sessions, A. C., Macon, Miss.
5oo Sexton, Charles B., San Rafael, Marin County, Cal.
*5oi Shady, R. C., Trenary, Mich.
502 Shaw, Charles A., 507 East Westmoreland St., Philadelphia, Pa.
*503 Shipley, William F., 179 Prince George St., Annapolis, Md.
504 Sibert, William L., c/o Adjutant General, Washington, D. C.
505 Sickler, Albert F., Tunkhannock, Pa.
o56 Siggins, Michael, Washington, D. C.
507 Siler, John E., 3958 Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill.
508 Sill, F. DeV., The Rectory, Cohoes, N. Y.
509 Simkins, A. B.
*5io Simmons, Clinton 0., c/o F. H. Case, Cleveland, O.
5II Simpson, S. S., Scarrett Building, Kansas City, Mo.
*512 Sims, Eli, Jupiter, Fla.
t*513 Sinclair, Joseph M., 4131 9th St., N. W., Washington, D. C.
*514 Sine, Elwood P., 35 East Boulevard, Peru, Ind.
515 Singer, J. S., c/o Union League Club, Philadelphia, Pa.

*56 Sisson, Benjamin F., 261 Valentine St., Fall River, Mass.
*517 Slater, Arthur A., Richmond, Va.
*518 Smith, Drew E., c/o C. G. Newlands, Tampa, Fla.
*519 Smith, Jay M., 304 South Granger St., Saginaw, Mich.
*520 Smith, John H., Jr., Washington, D. C.
521 Smith, Julian C., Tuskegee, Ala.
522 Smith, LeRoy, 128 Church St., Bridgeton, N. J.
523 Smith, Thomas H., Union Bridge, Carroll County, Md.
524 Snedeker, C. C.
525 Snediker, Randolph, Cicero, Ind.
526 Snyder, Adam F., 2 West F St., Sparrows Point, Md.
527 Sommerville, Robert, 5 Lexington Ave., Albany, N. Y.
*528 Sonneman, Otto F., c/o Skeele Coal Co., West St., New York
529 Spalding, W. J., Provo, Utah.
530 Speicher, John, 77 Magnolia Ave., Jersey City, N. J.
531 Spencer, Alfred E., 385 Valley Road, West Orange, N. J.
532 Sprouse, Frances P., Buffalo, N. Y.
*533 Start, Arthur E., 3320 J St., San Diego, Cal.
*534 St. Clair, Dan, Fredericktown, Madison County, Mo.
*535 Stephens, Walter E., 215 West 23rd St., New York City.
*536 Stevens, Fletcher, Newtonville, N. Y.
537 Stevens, Masters B., Atlanta, Ga.
538 Stevenson, Jesse H., 93 Greenwich Ave., Atlanta, Ga.
539 Stewart, A. B., 335 Quincy St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
*540 Stewart, F. F., Philadelphia, Pa.
541 Stewart, Malcolm, 4 Summer St., Hyde Park, Mass.
542 Stewart, W. B., zoo5 Eddy St., San Francisco, Cal.
543 Stocchini, T. F., 453 North Shasta St., Willows, Cal.
544 Stoddard, Charles, 449 South State St., Elgin, Ill.
545 Stoddard, Richard J., 122 McKinley Ave., Alpena, Mich.
546 Stoehr, George P., 1431 College Ave., Terre Haute, Ind.
547 Stolberg, Ernest W., 2969 West Grand Boulevard, Detroit,
548 Stone, Archibald K., 1435 Greenleaf Ave., Chicago, Ill.
*549 Storm, W. H., Seneca, Kan.
550 Strobridge, Fred L., Rochester, N. Y.
551 Strock, William T., Hamden Sidney, Va.
*552 Strong, George W., Washington, D. C.
553 Strong, James M., x638 Monroe St., N.W., Washington, D.C.

554 Stubner, Charles E., R. F. D., No. 3, Mt. Vernon, O.
555 Sturdivant, Roy H., Ya:mouth, Me.
556 Swain, Bernie E.
*557 Swanson, F. G., Tidioute, Pa.
t558 Swinehart, Charles M., Steamboat Springs, Col.

559 Taber, John A., Elks Home, New York City.
560 Tabor, Charles S., c/o George E. Tabor, South Natick, Mass.
*561 Talty, John W., 9 Richfield St., Dorchester, Mass.
562 Tannehill, J. W., Norfolk, Neb.
563 Taylor, Richard G., Whitehouse, Fla.
564 Taylor, William, Box No. 32, Clintonville, O.
565 Taylor, William D., 28 Pleasant St., So. Weymouth, Mass.
*566 Tenny, M. W., Holly, Mich.
567 Textor, Harry N.
568 Thaxton, Cullen D., 314 Courtland St., Atlanta, Ga.
569 Thomas, Trevor, 37 South Oakland Ave., Sharon, Pa.
570 Thompson, Charles W.
571 Thompson, E. R., 316 South Detroit St., Bellefontaine, O.
*572 Thompson, F. Y., 607 xoth St., Bowling Green, Ky.
573 Thompson, Thomas C., 554 West i6oth St., New York City..
*574 Thompson, W. L., 212 South Shelby St., Greenville, Miss.
575 Thomson, Walter S.
*576 Tipton, George W., Greeneville, Greene County, Tenn.
t*577Tobin, Edwin, 262 West 153rd St., New York City.
578 Townsend, Lester A.
*579 Tragsdorf, William E., Neillsville, Wis.
580 Trask, Henry R., 40 State St., Boston, Mass.
*581 Tucker, James E., 21 Franklin St. Concord, New Hamp.
*582 Turner, Anna R., Osborne Hall, 426 East 26th St., New York
583 Turner, Edward G., Jackson, Amador County, Cal.
584 Turner, Edward K., Broad Run, Va.
*585 Tysinger, J. D., Nampa, Idaho.

586 Urwiler, Charles J., 2440 North 6th St., Philadelphia, Pa.

*587 Vance, DeWitt, C., o02 Griffith St., Salem, N. J.
588 Vandeburgh, C. L., 1104 12th Ave., Moline, Ill.
589 Vandenberg, Harry, Grand Rapids, Wis.

590 VanHardeveld, John A., Sidney, Neb.
*591 VanZandt, C. L., R. F. D., No. 3, Phoenix, Ariz.
592 Vaughn, Emmett I., Central Aguiree, Porto Rico.

593 Wahlquist, Oscar, i52o Ritner St., Philadelphia, Pa.
594 Waid, Elbert S., 1508 Pennsylvania Ave., East Warren, Pa.
595 Walker, Mrs. Bertha Holly, 512 South I2th St., Fort Smith,
*596 Walker, Clement.
597 Walker, R. B., Wagoner, Okla.
598 Walling, Clifford T., 523 East Ohio Ave., Muncie, Ind.
599 Walraven, Francis W.
*6oo Wardlaw, R. H., Oxford, Miss.
*6ox Warner, A. M., 2821 Oak Ave., Altoona, Pa.
*602 Warren, H. P., 345 North 34th St., Lincoln, Neb.
*6o3 Warren, J. C., 175 Spring St., Atlanta, Ga.
604 Warren, Rudolph G., Norway, Dick County, Mich.
605 Watson, Roy R., Canton, Miss.
606 Watts, George H., 536 55th St., Brooklyn, N. Y.
607 Weber, H. E., Trenton, Mo.
608 Webster, Mrs. A. J., South Sudbury, Mass.
6o9 Webster, J. Leon.
6xo Webster, Lewis, 120 South State St., Painesville, O.
*61z Weems, M. A., Merced, Cal.
612 Weidman, Charles E.
613 Weidman, Frank.
614 Weitz, William H., North Scituate, R. I.
615 Wentworth, Everett A.
616 Westburg, John E., 3621 LaSalle St., Chicago, Ill.
617 Westcott, Fred M., Station A, R. F. D. No. 5, Toledo, 0.
618 Weston, Albert F., 434 West Cayuga St., Philadelphia, Pa.
619 Whaler, John W., 909 2nd St., Bay City, Mich.
620 Whipple, C. Earl, Route i, Box 39, Harrison, O.
*621 Whitaker, C. L., Houston, Texas.
622 White, F. D., Forestville, N. Y.
623 White, James, 165 Willow St., Lawrence, Mass.
624 White, Mark, Orlando, Fla.
*625 White, S. M., c/o Mrs. J. R. Matteson, Petersburg, Va.
*626 White, Walter J., Covina, Los Angeles County, Cal.
627 Whitehead, Wilbur W.

*628 Whitney, George A., Rhinelander, Wis.
629 Whyte, Walter J., 36 East 23rd St., New York City.
630 Williams, E. J., 1454 Asbury Ave., Evanston, Ill.
631 Williamson, James D.
*632 Wilson, Fred DeS., Rock Hall, Md.
*633 Willson, L. E., Waterville, Kan.
634 Wilson, Charles M., 3825 Windsor Place, St. Louis, Mo.
635 Wilson, H. S., c/o Port of Havana Docks Co., Havana, Cuba.
*636 Wilson, Paul S.
637 Windes, William N.
638 Wirz, Charles C. J., Philadelphia, Pa.
639 Wolverton, David R., Boulder, Col.
t64o Wood, Benjamin F., xoo West 14xst St., New York City.
*641 Wood, Robert E., c/o Dr. E. M. Steris, 3 West 53rd St., New
York City.
*642 Wood, Win. M., Hillsboro, Tex.
*643 Woods, J. T. 2007 Essex St., Berkeley, Cal.
644 Woodside, James, Port Richmond, Staten Island, New York
645 Woodsum, Walter C., c/o Mrs. A. R. Danfort, Norway, Me.
646 Wright, Dan, Winchester, Va.
*647 Wynne, J., 990 Columbus Ave., New York City.

648 Young, James R., General Delivery, Mount Vernon, N. Y.
649 Young, Thomas H., Louisville, Ky.

650 Zinn, A. S., 4820 Langley Ave., Chicago, Ill.

NOVEMBm IS, g193.

BY WUIArm F. SHIPLEY, Secretary-Treasurer

Our Society dates from October 7, 1911, when
the final ratification meeting was held at the
Strangers' Club, Colon, officers elected, and one
of the most unique bodies ever organized was
launched amid great enthusiasm. The Society
is unique because there are no material benefits
to be derived from membership, and even its
social undertakings are confined to an annual
Our membership is democratic, being recruited
from all classes of employees who are white
Americans and who have been in the service of
the Isthmian Canal Commission or Panama Rail-
road Company for six years or more, and these
men and women to the number of about 649 have
joined for no other motive than that of being
identified with the people who, owing to long and
faithful service, have had more to do with the
construction of the Canal than any other existing
factor. For it is the employees who have stuck
to their jobs from the early days of fever and

deprivation to the present days of luxurious ease,
to whom the successful completion of the Canal
in record time is due. Practically all of these
employees are included within the ranks of our
Society, and there is no greater honor, according
to the lights of a Canal digger, than to be as-
sociated with these faithful and efficient men and
women. Our membership list will close with the
official opening of the Canal and every employee
eligible should join prior to that time. In future
years the Society of the Chagres will take its place
on the same plane with the Loyal Legion or the
Society of the Cincinnati, and then it will come
to pass that a veteran of the Panama Canal will
be held in equal honor with the descendants of
the veterans of the Revolutionary or Civil Wars.
The 1913 annual banquet was held at the Hotel
Tivoli on the evening of February 21, with 423
members present. An elaborate dinner was
served, the Tivoli orchestra played throughout,
and a diversified vaudeville program was ren-
dered. The following toasts were responded to:
"After the Canal" (Revised), by Captain R. E.
"Lights and Shadows of Isthmian Life," by
Dr. J. C. Perry.
"Sparks," by W. F. Morrison.
"A Three-Minute Talk," by W. M. Wood.
"Nearing the End," by Hon. H. A. Gudger.

"Impressions, Wise and Otherwise," by Gerald
D. Bliss.
Colonel Tom M. Cooke, Toastmaster.
During 1913 we have gained 131 new members,
bringing the total membership at the time this is
being written (November 15) up to 649. It is
estimated that there are about 300 eligibles who
have not joined, probably because the matter
has never been brought to their attention. We
expect to have every eligible on our roster by
the end of next year (1914). The majority of
the members of the Isthmian Canal Commission
are members, Colonels Goethals and Sibert
having recently joined. Colonel Gorgas is a
charter member. Mr. Rousseau has signified
his intention of joining, and Colonel Hodges will
undoubtedly become one of us when he completes
his six years of service. The unfortunate illness
of Colonel Gaillard has prevented him from
entering the Society.
We havebeen cordially invited to attend as a
body the Panama-Pacific International Exposi-
tion, which will be held in San Francisco from
February to December, I915. The officials of
the Exposition have offered to place at our dis-
posal a hall for use as headquarters, and have
intimated that they are willing to make further
concessions which will not be extended to other

organizations. One of the Exposition officials
expresses it:
"Nothing could be more appropriate than a
meeting at the Exposition of the Society of the
Chagres, the members of which have done so much
toward making the construction of the Canal a
success, and I can assure you that all of the
Exposition officials share in this attitude and will
be proud to entertain you in a befitting manner."
We shall have to select a meeting place for
1915 and many members are in favor of San
Francisco. If the concessions mentioned are in
accordance with the sentiments expressed by the
Exposition officials, it might be wise to accept
their invitation.
NoTE-Lieut. Col. D. D. Gaillard died on December 6, 1913.

A party of congressmen were standing in the
bottom of Gatun Locks looking at the walls
which rose eighty-five feet above them. One of
the representatives noticed the ladders set in the
walls, and rising vertically along their face.
"That would be a difficult climb," said he.
A fellow representative spoke up and said,
"Oh, that wouldn't be so bad; it's only eighty-
five feet." Then turning to Goethals, "Colonel,
what will you give me if I climb that ladder?"-
The Colonel shook his head, smiled and said,
"Nothing, but the degree of D. F."


When I was requested by the entertainment
committee to make a short, brilliant and witty
speech of three minutes' duration, I was appalled
at the task, and in selecting as a topic, "Lights
and Shadows of Isthmian Life," I must crave
your indulgence.
More than three minutes would be required to
portray the lights and shadows of the Isthmian
life of our worthy presiding officer alone, much
less that of many other members who have been
equally efficient in the limelight, and under the
beneficent shadows of restricted districts.
Reverting to our president, it is apparent to
those who have known him long that his shadow
is gradually growing less; whether this is due to a
later status in his life or the result of impending
political changes, you will have to decide; but
whether coming events cast their shadows before
them, his name will be handed down to posterity

not only for his efficient work in the light of day,
but as well for his past prowess in the dark of
What I have just said will to a certain degree
apply to many others of the Society of the Chagres.
The mere fact, gentlemen, that you have com-
pleted six years, and many of you more, on the
Isthmus, shows that you came when all was not
light; and as you are still on the job, no other
credential is needed to prove the efficiency of your
work and your ability to dodge the numerous
sleuths when you take in the passing show along
the shadowy by-paths.
In the early days when the first of us arrived,
there was little else than shadow, deepening to
almost impenetrable gloom during the yellow
fever period of 1905; but the light of modem
sanitation has dispelled the shadows, and our
social environment has lightened, so that in later
years we have reaped our reward in Canal Zone
medals; and the shadows are only such as add
zest to our leisure moments.
A statement has been made that all of us would
have left the Isthmus in 1905 if there had been
sufficient transportation. I know, and most of
you also know, that this is not correct; that we,
the trail blazers, stood by our guns during
pestilential times, and, by our work, made it

possible for those that came later to live in comfort
and safety.
Fellow members, it is not my intention to be
poetical, neither will I unfurl the star spangled
banner; such must be left to orators and not
ordinary speakers. We can all recall the same-
ness of our early days on the Isthmus; that the
maidens were even dusky with varying shades;
that shadows of disease and discomfort were
prevalent; and that life had little sunshine. How-
ever, if the old adage-"By their deeds ye shall
know them"-is applied to you, one and all
will know the satisfaction of a work well accom-
plished, a record that will stand the searching
light of day; and if the deeds performed under
shadows were recorded as well, each one of you
would deserve an extra bar on your medal.
Now that the work of which you have been an
integral part is nearing completion, although the
shadow of "Cucaracha" makes the official date
variable, this is probably our largest gathering;
but when the eighth wonder of the world is an
accomplished fact and the members of the Society
of the Chagres assemble at the Panama Exposi-
tion in 1915, they will show the metal of their
composition, the power to repeat their deeds of
the past-whether they foregather under the
brilliantly lighted canopy of Market Street or
under the seductive shadows of the Barbary Coast.


A young society reporter whose verbose delinea-
tion of weddings, balls, Federation meetings, etc.,
failed to win the approval of the Managing Editor
was told by that functionary to condense as much
as possible. His report of an afternoon tea next
day simply stated that, Mrs. Lovely poured-
Mrs. Screecher soared-Mrs. Rasping bored and
Mrs. Woodbridge scored.
Having been assigned by your committee to
deliver a "short, witty and learned" speech this
evening, I choose only to make it short, leaving
the remaining adjectives to apply to those who
have preceded or may follow.
The eyes of the civilized world are turned toward
the Isthmus at this time and while the Canal has
been exhaustively treated by both press and
platform, nevertheless the information most eager-
ly sought is that disseminated by the thousands
of visitors arriving weekly. It is important then
that they be given courteous and accurate replies

to the many questions we are all called upon to
answer from time to time. I would not tell the
troubled tourist from Kankakee or Kalamazoo
that the humming-bird he sees is a yellow-fever
mosquito, neither assure the mild old lady from
the provinces that the cockroach is a Panamanian
bedbug. We are pretty generally considered an
energetic band of patriotic Americans who have
left home and friends solely to assist our great
Government in its greatest enterprise. Let us
then exhibit to our visitors, the Administration
Building rather than the Disbursing Office, and
invite their attention to a labor train instead of
the pay-car, lest our patriotism assume a com-
mercial aspect inconsistent with highest ideals.
Those of us here tonight have served at least
six years on the Panama Canal, positive assurance
of one of three things-either that we have"made
good" in the accepted vernacular of the day, or
that our superiors have been exceedingly lenient,
or that we have been unable to obtain employ-
ment elsewhere. During that time many have
been able to lay up treasures on earth, while a
few perhaps have lain up treasures in Heaven;
but whether we are to retire to a farm in Texas,
an orchard in Oregon or a water-lily plantation
in the Everglades, ($io.oo down and $io.oo a
month); or even though the net result of six
years effort be only a Canal Medal and a few more

children, yet each of us is proud to have been a
factor in the construction of the Panama Canal;
and as such, a member of the Society of the
A gentlemen meeting a speaker whom he had
introduced the nght before, assured him his
address was moving, soothing and satisfying.
When later reproached for having commended a
dismal failure he denied the charge, and stated he
uttered no approbation but simple facts. The
address WAS moving for many in the audience
were uneasy in their seats and several left the
room. It was soothing for a number fell asleep;
and it was certainly satisfying for all present had
had enough. And in the same manner you have
doubtless already found these few words "moving,
soothing and satisfying."

As the train emerged from Miraflores Tunnel
the tourist leaned across the aisle and said:
"What is that?"
The Six Year Man answered, "That's Mira-
flores Tunnel."
Tourist-"And will the ships run through
Six Year Man--"Only the smaller ones; the
larger ships will be taken through the locks."


Some nine years and a half ago, the good ship
Seguranza steamed slowly into Colon Harbor.
The passengers were all on deck, each one curious
and wondering as to what manner of place the
Isthmus of Panama might prove to be.
In the minds of some, it had meant everything
that was deadly in the way of pestilence; a people
to whom revolution had become a habit, and a
climate of more than deadly tropical heat,-yea,
a heat to be compared with that place which is
mentioned only under one's breath. There were
those who had it crowned with historical and
political importance; others, again, to whom it
was shrouded in romance and charm. But
whether it was the possibility of danger, of politi-
cal interest, or the love of romance, none of us
admitted the motive that had actuated our be-
coming a part of the Canal movement, all flatter-
ing ourselves that it was pure patriotism; the
thought of remuneration being kept sedulously
in the background.

As the steamer was making its final lurches
toward the dock before dropping anchor, an ap-
preciable atmosphere of apprehension and anxiety
was felt by all, and many a countenance showed
signs of homesickness, and dread of what the
future might hold. However, as soon as the
gang-plank was lowered, all became alert and
interested. The small details of life assumed
importance; a trunk to be identified was a real
fact that could not be ignored, and with West
Indian negroes running hither and yon, we
quickly realized that we had indeed set foot on a
foreign shore. Custom officials got through
quickly, and in a short time we found ourselves
occupying a private car which had been placed
at the disposal of the United States Minister by
Colonel Shaler, then Superintendent of the
Panama Railroad.
As the train crawled leisurely out of Colon,
we began gathering impressions of this latest and
youngest republic. Nothing could be more un-
attractive than the narrow, dirty, half deserted
streets, with the native element running about
half clothed,-many of the children entirely
naked. Most of the houses were badly dilapi-
dated, and were swarming with native men,
women and children.
Our transcontinental trip of forty-seven miles
occupied three hours, but we hardly minded it,

for every mile of the way was interesting to those
who had never before seen a tropical jungle.
We made numerous stops at the native towns,
and at intermediate points. Once we stopped to
buy bananas from a native vendor, and again at
spots of particular interest, such as the future
Rio Grande Reservoir, then a tiny lake; and the
famous Culebra Cut was pointed out. Mean-
while, we were beginning to realize what bamboo
thickets, coconut palms, and banana plants
really were. On both sides of the track the jungle
closed in, and many miles of ties were grass
covered, only the glittering steel rails outlining
the road bed. On the way over, some of the
Government officials entered the train, and at
Panama others were waiting to receive the
United States Minister; while we,-a humble little
band of nurses destined for Ancon Hospital,
were cordially welcomed by Miss Hibbard.
We got into a brake, a Jamaica negro cracked
his whip, and we jolted along over unpaved
streets, finally arriving at the gateway leading
into the Ancon grounds. On entering, it seemed
as if we were being driven through a beautiful
but neglected park. Everywhere was the evi-
dence of artistic design in landscape gardening,
but so overgrown were the shrubs and plants,
and so rank the undergrowth, that little of the
original beauty was discernible, and only noisome-

ness and slimy reptiles were suggested by the
luxuriant vegetation.
One feature, however, made a never to be for-
gotten impression,-the stately rows of royal
palms with their drooping fronds swaying far
above our heads, like steadfast and undaunted
sentinels of a community life inaugurated by the
French regime, now to be advanced to a comple-
tion far exceeding their most sanguine aims. It
was a climb from one terrace to another until we
were about half way up the mountain, finally
reaching what was then known as Ward Fifteen,
the temporary quarters for the nurses.
Upon our arrival, preparations for afternoon
tea were started, but the wind blew the alcohol
flame in the wrong direction, and we were really
quite faint when the stimulating brew was at
last ready for us. In the meantime, we had been
looking about. A large ward was our dormitory.
Old rusted iron French beds, with mildewed
mattresses and pillows lined the walls. It was
a case of first come first served. Each made a
dash for what she thought was the best location.
A glimpse had been caught of two nice fresh white
enamel beds belonging to two nurses who had
preceded us by an earlier steamer, and, while we
were getting ready what was to be both bedroom
and dressing room for eight persons, we thought
enviously of their superior comfort. Fresh linen

and mosquito bars, the latter a novelty to us,
were supplied from the storeroom, and by the
time the six o'clock dinner was announced we had
our house in order and our appetites whetted for
our first Spanish meal, with its many surprises,
the chief of these being the announcement by
Rosina, who appeared with bare feet, attired in
a loose bodice, short skirt, and bandana, flourish-
ing a ladle in her hand, which she wiped on her
apron as she walked into the dining room. Each
one was assigned to her place at the table, Rosina
taking acute notice as to whether or not we under-
stood the etiquette of using the six plates piled
in front of each, ignorance on which point rele-
gated the unfortunate one to a low place in her
esteem, as not being to the manner born.
As we sat down to dinner, we were surprised
to see lighted candles on the tables, for the sun
was still shining brightly. In a very few minutes
we understood the reason for this, as there is no
twilight in the tropics, and before dinner was
finished the room would have been dark without
them. The meal consisted of okra gumbo, a
filet of beef, sweet potatoes, Spanish macaroni,
shrimp salad, and pineapple for dessert, with
very good coffee. The six plates being used in
their proper sequence. The cooking was excel-
lent, the service a la Rosina was entertaining,
and the inner woman being refreshed, we.repaired

to the balcony and there awaited the develop-
ments, the first being an attack upon us by the
much dreaded Anopheles mosquito. In a very
few moments one and then another declared that
it was impossible to remain outside, as we were
being eaten alive by the mosquitoes and sand-
flies. We sought refuge in the dormitory, and
were informed that the best thing to do was to
go to bed. Each had a candle, but it was soon
found that it was not wise to keep these burning,
as they attracted moths and all sorts of flying
insects. Yet, in spite of these many difficulties,
we were not disheartened, but thoroughly en-
joyed the novel experiences.
The next morning we were told that a patient
had died of yellow fever and that there were
several other cases in the hospital. Some were
frightened at this, but details were assigned, and
we went to work. One ward was occupied by
white patients, another by negroes, these two
being the only wards in use.
The Sisters of St. Vincent de Paul were in
charge, women of much refinement and charm.
They had been in complete control of the Hospital
during the French regime, and with the incoming
of the United States Government it was decided
that they should stay on and be a part of the
nursing force until the end of the year. They
had their own community life, and with their

religious services and their rather unusual garb
they added much to the picturesqueness of the
surroundings. We were told that these sisters
had done heroic work in the face of great diffi-
culties and poor facilities.
The hospital, although a marvel of artistic
design, well planned and ventilated, was of course
destitute of all modern, up-to-date conveniences.
In its construction labor-saving and time had not
been considered, as the some forty-odd buildings
making up the hospital proper were scattered over
a number of terraces, and occupied a very large
territory. The buildings were all at that time
of one-story, surrounded by "galleries" of veran-
das, and roofed with red Spanish tiles. Around
these verandas were planted shrubs and plants,
all more or less neglected, but showing the French
love of beauty and harmony, as well as of the more
practical needs of the sick.
As soon as we were relieved from duty, the
spirit of the explorer prompted us to investigate
many of the abandoned buildings, lying half
buried in the overgrown tropical vegetation.
With a native armed with a machete, we made
our way from one to another, the more adventur-
ous of us journeying as far as the Folie Dingier.
This was approached by a serpentine path, all
that remained of what had been a beautiful drive-
way known as the La Boca road. Our guide on

this part of the journey was the unfearful Rosina,
who said that the house was possessed of evil
spirits, and that she alone had the power of the
charm to frighten them off. This charm con-
sisted of frantically waving her arms and sending
forth piercing shrieks. However, we discovered
the place to be a beautifully built house, large
and having all the conveniences at that time
known to household science. It had a command-
ing situation, overlooking Panama Bay and the
Pacific entrance to the Canal. This house had
had its tragedy during the French regime, inas-
much as the family of the first Director General,
Jules Dingier, had all been victims of yellow fever.
Having satisfied ourselves in regard to the
topography of our sphere of action, though still
bewildered at the fact that the sun rose over the
Pacific Ocean, we settled down to the daily routine
of hospital work. On the first Sunday a religious
service was conducted in the cottage that had
previously been occupied by the French chef.
The cleaning and repainting of the wards ad-
vanced rapidly. Equipment was placed, and
each day showed gratifying progress in the
ability to meet the demands of the steadily in-
creasing number of patients. The buildings
were without wire nettings, necessitating a
mosquito bar for every bed, which made it a little
difficult to attend the patients, but when yellow

fever patients were admitted a wire cage was
built about the bed. For those nurses who had
to take duty at night, there was no wire cage in
which they might seek protection from the
pestiferous mosquitoes, their only relief being
obtained by swathing themselves in bandages
soaked with oil of citronella.
In the meantime, the grounds were being po-
liced. Whole battalions, armed with machetes
were mowing down every green thing that stood
in their way. Much regret was felt by us when
we beheld the destruction of a noble cedar of
Lebanon which stood close by our veranda. If
by any chance the overseer did not designate
each blade to be spared, these men showed no
discrimination. When all was finished, there
remained no further entrancing mysteries but
there were revealed to view many pieces of
statuary, chiefly figures of saints, which had
decorated the grounds, and being considered
innocuous were, for the time, left in place. For
the future matters were to be conducted on strictly
sanitary lines.
We were yet to have water works and a sewage
system installed, up to this time the water supply
having been obtained from a small reservoir and
overground cisterns which stored the water col-
lected from the roofs. During the rainy season
the supply was abundant, but when the long dry

season arrived water had to be used in the most
. sparing quantities, and for days at a time baths
of all sorts were prohibited.
Each week added to the number of our nursing
staff, recruits coming from active service in all
parts of the world,-the Philippines, Cuba,
Africa, China, Japan, England and Canada,-
each contributing details of value. The increase,
of course, necessitated further accommodations,
and arrangements were made for taking over the
Strangers' Hospital further up the hill, for
permanent quarters. This hospital derived its
name from the fact that during the French occu-
pancy the only patients admitted were those
who were sent in by the foreign consuls. About
this time nearly every one in the entire community
was afflicted with malaria, and yellow fever had
carried off several fine young men.
Being the only women connected with the
work, we valiantly tried, when off duty, to live
and surround ourselves with a little of the home
life which we had left two thousand miles behind.
Our first social affair was a card party, and on
Hallowe'en, a month later, several charming
young bachelors gave a unique little "evening."
Nothing that was attempted later seemed so
Later on, we ventured into the field of drama,
and put on a little play called "The Travelling

Delegate." An all star cast was selected, but the
stage management disagreed on a few technical
points, so after many difficulties it was ready for
the evening of Thanksgiving. We were still
very dependent on candles, though some favored
few had been granted kerosene lamps which were
loaned for the occasion and used as foot lights.
A string orchestra, from Camp Elliott supplied
the music, and when the play was over the
"Terpsichorean devotees" tripped gaily until
midnight, unmindful of the fact that there had
been hanging over the Zone a threat of invasion
from Columbia, Ancon had been assigned a spec-
ial patrol of marines, and several battleships were
at anchor in the harbor.
Early in December, toward the end of the wet
season, yellow fever and other forms of sickness
became more prevalent, almost causing panic.
Had we allowed ourselves to do so, we would have
lost heart completely, for death seemed to domi-
nate the situation. But the unselfishness and
splendid administrative skill by which our work
was arranged made every one feel that we too
must do our work courageously, and in the trying
days when one of our number was stricken, no
one showed the white feather but all stood faith-
fully to their tasks. There were many anxious
days, and not until our trusted yellow fever

specialists said that all danger was passed did we
feel any ease of mind.
Previous to the outbreak of the fever, orders
had been issued prohibiting all visiting in the
city of Panama. This was indeed a hardship,
as we delighted to wander through its quaint
narrow streets, visit its cathedral and churches,
rummage through the .old Chinese shops and
junkshops where much old-fashioned jewelry and
many rarities could be obtained for very little,
and gaze admiringly at the beautiful dark-eyed
senoritas to be seen in the plazas during the late
Our life was more or less confined to Ancon,
but occasionally engineers and surveyors would
give us accounts of the progress of the Canal
work. Of the Chagres River we would hear
mention, and in a vague way we knew that its
course might be changed, that there might be a
Gatun Dam, Gatun Locks, and Pedro Miguel
Locks; also that there was a wonderful tower at
old Panama. After a time, we made trips along
the line, and saw for ourselves that the jungle was
disappearing, and noted the mounds of old French
machinery standing out like black spectres of the
On one occasion, a little picnic to the Rio
Grande was planned. A member of our party
was late in arriving at the station, but the con-

ductor most obligingly held the train until she
pantingly appeared. The point was not on the
schedule for a stop, but a request was all that
was necessary, and when we were ready to return
a gentle waving of the hand stopped the evening
train and we were taken on board. Those were
the days when the Isthmus was truly the land
of "mafiana."
Through the kindly consideration of all the
officials, much was done to make conditions com-
fortable and pleasant for us, and our Superintend-
ent being a woman who had been presented at the
Court of St. James, our entire corps enjoyed the
best social standing. Afternoon tea was fre-
quently honored by the presence of distinguished
guests, including British and United States Naval
officers, as well as those engaged on the Isthmian
Canal Commission. These diversions, however,
formed only a small part of the daily life. We
were taxed to the utmost in the effort to care for
the sick and keep hope and encouragement alive.
The esprit de corps was excellent.
Late in the summer of 1904, our first Ancon
baby was born, and upon it was conferred the
special honor of being baptized "Theodore
Quiet little romances were going on in our midst,
and in December, six months after our arrival,
.the first engagement was announced, but it was

not until May of 1905 that the first wedding was
celebrated. It was a pretty ceremony, and was
one of many weddings that followed in rapid suc-
cession during the year.
Before passing on, our first Christmas under
the Southern Cross must have a word. Elaborate
preparations were made; a large dormitory was
cleared and decorated with palms, ferns, banana
plants, and bamboos. A pine tree could not be
had, but a very good substitute was found and
beautifully decorated. Just before the gifts were
distributed the effect of a heavy fall of snow was
produced by an ingeniously planned arrangement,
and Santa Claus was cleverly impersonated.
The gifts were toys selected with a special ap-
preciation of the foibles of the recipients, and
provoked much laughter and jesting. After the
tree had been thoroughly despoiled, the company
sought the lawn on which a refreshment booth
had been established. A temporary wall of
bamboo plants closed off the La Boca Road;
seats and tables were scattered around; and Chi-
nese lanterns hung from the balconies. It was a
gorgeous tropical moonlight night. The air was
clear and balmy; the stars hung low like suspended
jewels, the whole effect being like a brilliant stage
setting, romantic and bewitching.
During the dry season we found the climate
particularly pleasant. The health-giving trade

winds blew almost constantly, making heavy
covering quite necessary at night. We were
beginning to feel a little less anxiety, although we
continued to use quinine freely, as we still dreaded
the sight of an Anopheles or Stegomyia, knowing
too well the seriousness of pernicious malaria
and yellow fever. By May we were in the midst
of another wet season, with torrential rains al-
most every day. But the excessive rainfall did
not interfere much with our comfort-only occa-
sionally when one's foot slipped into an unusually
bad spot in the unpaved streets.
Many had been North on vacation, and had
returned to the Isthmus, apparently glad to be
back. Large forces of laborers were at work,
and as a result the hospital service was most
active, requiring an increased number of nurses,
as well as orderlies. The orderlies, or servants,
were then, as now, all West Indian negroes, who
were much addicted to the use of polysyllables.
They were not very systematic, and required to
be handled more as children than as adults, but
on the whole they gave very good service. To
accommodate our steadily increasing number, a
large three story building was being erected,
which gave promise of many home luxuries.
Time with progress was forging ahead, as a
visit to Colon proved. Where we had seen
nothing but jungle on our first trip, gray villages

had sprung up all along the line of the Canal.
The great steam shovels, acting like human.beings,
were making much ado, and there was buzzing
and humming everywhere. We nurses were no
longer respectfully gazed at because we were the
only women connected with the work, for women
and children were arriving by every boat. Homes
were being established, and a sense of domestic
comfort pervaded the settlements. The advent
of women meant the development of social life,
and various clubs were organized.
Before two years were over, we were surrounded
by all the modern comforts and conveniences.
Telephones buzzed, electric lights were flashed
on, and we recognized ourselves as only a part of
an ideal community. It would be hard for any
one today to believe that Ancon had ever gone
through a pioneer stage. We are glad to have
had a hand in the work of those early days, and
although as women we achieved no distinct
celebrity, yet we flatter ourselves that we played
an important part in the building of the Canal.

"It is very fortunate for the Americans," said
the English tourist looking out over Gatun Lake,
"that they found available here such a large body
of water to help in their canal."


My experience with tourists is confined almost
entirely to those who have come to see the Canal
since 1911, when I became the official guide.
What I say about them must therefore be viewed
as entirely limited, although my statements may
have a more general application than I know. Let
me brush aside a few common errors.
In the first place there is no such a thing as a
race or class of tourists. These people come from
all races and every conceivable social and eco-
nomic class. Likewise they come from all parts of
the world. If I received word tomorrow that the
Lhassa Llama was to be my special charge for the
day, I should not be surprised; and only slightly
interested. Each person has a special individu-
ality, and if one were to generalize he would
surely do someone an injustice-overdo a few,
underdo the many. Yet they have this in com-
mon; they have little time and want to fill every
minute of it. As one old fellow put it--"I've
got a week to rest up in on the ship."

And I find less difference between the people
who come on the "hurry up" excursions and those
who come to spend a week more than I had ex-
pected. The hurry up people spend ten hours on
the Isthmus, glance hurriedly at the dam, locks,
and canal, buy a Panama hat, rush into the
cathedral, regret the seven mile interval that
keeps them from seeing Old Panama, eat lunch
at the Tivoli, and go away satisfied. Those who
spend a week take things more leisurely, and get
more definite impressions. Yet, I doubt if they
get more accurate ones. They do, however, have
time to crowd in a few personal experiences.
And it is these visitors that the guides have an
opportunity to observe, sometimes to know.
They are generally comfortable men and women
of 50 or more, a few spinsters, and an occasional
girl of near 20 years. Men between 25 and 45
are few. I suppose they are too busy to take
three weeks for Panama; or if they are not, they
probably prefer spending those weeks nearer to
Nor is there any special garb for tourists. Amer-
ican women always wear white veils over queer
looking hats. Englishmen wear white cork hel-
mets; and so do some American men, but they
don't enjoy them. Some American men dress
as if for a trip through the jungle when they go

out on the sight-seeing train. Most women wear
heavy ugly shoes. All tourists carry umbrellas.
Patriotic tourists, or perhaps it would be better
to say "chauvanistic tourists," are rather com-
mon. They have two great topics: "The French
Failure" and "The Cost." It is futile to explain
to them that a private company of Americans
would have failed as the French company did,
under the same conditions. "We done it, and
they failed," is always the answer.
And the cost? "Half a billion dollars, and we
never felt it." No use to say 375 millions is all
it will cost. What are 125 millions to such a
nation as ours? If the Government did not spend
half a billion, then it failed to take advantage of
its opportunity. All the care that has been
exercised to keep down the costs, the idea that
economical administration has been striven for,
the triumph of efficiency over wastefulness, all
these are lost on this jackass. He is proud that
something splendid has been accomplished, but
more proud that "half a billion" has been spent.
People who appear to think they are doing the
Canal administration and its employees a great
favor by condescending to look at the various
sights are the most interesting psychological
type. They are not interested especially, are
usually disappointed, and sometimes quite dis-
approve. Just recently I had a trying experience

with one of these, and a woman, too, which is
unusual. She believed in a sea level canal. She
regarded the lake with disfavor, and positively
refused to look at the locks. "It is very good,
but a sea level canal would be better, and would
have cost less in the end," she repeated.
I was sorry we had no sea level canals to show
her that day, but there was no use trying to tell
her that it was not my fault. She disapproved
of me about as much as of the locks, until I actu-
ally felt that perhaps I had made a mistake in
going ahead with the lock canal.
There is usually a bachelor along who is ex-
cessively gallant to some young woman, fre-
quently a mere girl. He is between 40 and go
years of age. As a general proposition I am sorry
for bachelors, just as I used to be, when I was
a kid in swimming, for the poor boys that stood
on the bank and wanted to jump in but were
afraid. But bachelors assume an air of chivalry
and interest (or perhaps they feel it a little) that
is extremely irritating to a man who knows
what a promiscuous, unchivalric lot they are.
And what gets my goat worse than all is the way
the women seem to believe in them. Well, the
chivalric bachelor, old enough to have grand-
children, devotes himself to the girl of 18, helps
her daintily over the railroad tracks and up steps
she could easily jump up, explains to her just why
the water flows from an upper to a lower level,

asks the names of the trees for her, and exclaims
fervently over the yellow blossoms on the lignum-
vitae, or the passion flowers along the tracks.
Meanwhile women of his own age, or even less
old, are blowing and puffing violently, but no one
helps them. They need it. Oh, yes, bachelor
tourists are the worst of the lot.
"Where is the masonry dam for the purpose of
diverting the Chagres river from the Canal?"
There are probably no more male-fool-tourists
than female-fool-tourists; but the males have
more assurance and therefore reveal their foolish-
ness. The women being naturally self-abasing
merely look at you doubtingly; they seldom
argue. The male fool is annoying only when he
becomes excited. He has read a book, or perhaps
two books, about the Canal on his way to the
Isthmus. Books on Panama are probably no
more inaccurate than books on Tibet; but there
are more of them. And the inaccuracies are the
most interesting points, therefore these lodge
more firmly in the head of the fool. Now some-
where in his book the man who asked me the
question about the masonry dam had read of the
sea level project. It was impossible to explain
to him his error without hurting his pride; yet it
was necessary to explain. He tried his best to
convince me that I had overlooked a dam some-
where, and I believe in the end that he thought it

was being'hidden from him; but when we passed
the Rio Grande reservoir he saved his face by
exclaiming-"Ah, Mr. Guide, this is the dam I
was speaking about."
In every crowd of people there are some who
are earnest and really care about what they are
seeing; but the mass usually just wants to walk
around and listen without comprehending. At
Gatun one day I explained how the dam was being
built, and after I had finished a man spoke up
and asked-"And is this the canal in here?"
At first I did not know what he meant, then he
pointed with his umbrella at the hydraulic fill
between the two toes.
"Is that corn, Mr. Guide?" asked one of the
sightseers as the train rolled by a cornfield. I
said it was. Then a fresh guy way back in the car
piped up- "And do they use that corn for making
the concrete, Mr. Guide?"
At Gatun one morning an old man and his wife
were among the tourists. I had explained all
about the dam, and then the wife said to her
husband, "And isn't it nice, they call it the
Roosevelt Dam?"
"How do they get the water in?" This is one
of the common questions, or rather it was before
the water was in the lake level of the Canal.
People would look the locks over, listen to my
very lucid spiel on the purpose of the lake, and

then gaze down at the sea level entrances, and
seeing only that water would ask the question.
"Where do the mules go?" This question was
asked by a sweet woman who had lived along the
Cumberland canal, and who later told me that
she was local president of the Society for the
Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.
One day I happened to be called in to arbitrate
a dispute between two men, both intelligent
looking, and one evidently a "kidder." One of
them had asked of the other "How do they get the
water in?" The other had pointed to the hooks
in the lock walls put there for small boats, and had
asserted that these were the faucets. The argu-
ment that ensued was heated, and I think the
"kidder" was as surprised as his dupe when I
explained that there really were big faucets in the
walls for controlling the flow of water.
A man with an ear trumpet was one of the most
interested tourists I ever took around. He had
read intelligently, and asked intelligent questions.
And he asked them every minute. On the sight-
seeing train he posted himself right alongside of me
so that I was talking into his trumpet all the time.
In going about the work he stuck close by and
was forever asking details. I stood it three days
without any explosion, but finally it got under
even my hide, and I began to hate the poor fellow.
Wherever I turned I turned into that trumpet,

and gradually I came to look upon the visitation
not as a man with an ear trumpet, but an ear
trumpet with a man. The trumpet became the
largest thing in my existence. One afternoon I
finished the lecture up at the Tivoli, attended to a
few little matters, and then hotfooted it to the
Hotel Central. In the cool patio I sat down, and
soon a glass of beer was smiling at me. A man I
knew came in and we lost our troubles in discus-
sing the relative merits of home brewed and
imported beer. Suddenly a third voice broke in-
"You say the imported beer is doped?" I knew
that voice, and turning slightly spoke into the
"Yes, it's doped, won't you take some?"
The suspicious man is irritating. He sees that
everything is broad open, yet he does not believe
that this is possible. Therefore he is always
asking questions calculated, only too patently, to
reveal some hidden defect, some enormous plot,
some petty graft. He doubts the stability of the
foundations of everything, wonders whether the
lake will leak and assumes a plot to keep the facts
from the people and that the guide is in the plot;
sees a string of locomotives and suggests that
someone who builds locomotives is friendly with
the former President, wonders how much of the
commissary goods cost more than they should,
and sees great waste and extravagance all around

him. Of course he is hopeless, that is it is futile
to try even to persuade him that he is wrong. I
have long since ceased to argue with his kind,
because it gets one all het up and no good is
My wife admits that I am naturally mean, but
I will not. At least it was not meanness that made
me act so badly in the case of the man with the
umbrella. He was a small man who wore large
eyeglasses and carried a very large umbrella.
I think he was deaf, or slightly so, because he
always sat very cose to me when I was explaining
the scenery as the car went from objective point
to point. When we passed anything that I did
not explain, he would poke me gently with the
handle of the umbrella and say-"Mr. Guide,
what is that tree?" or whatever it happened to be.
After two days of this I had a black spot on my
left leg where he had poked me, and both the spot
and I were becoming sore. On the third day as we
were about to cross the locks at Gatun on the
foot bridge, I could see that he was a trifle nervous.
He was right alongside me, so I said-"Let me
carry your umbrella for you, and you take hold of
both rails." He did so. We walked across, I
taking my station at the end of the procession.
When we were almost at the other side, I accident-
ally lost my grip on the umbrella, and it fell
through one of the manholes of a gate clear down

into the dark pit. Of course I was apologetic,
and offered to have the gate taken apart in order
to return the umbrella. But he piled the coals
upon my head by being very uninterested. Next
day he appeared with a new umbrella, and the
spot on my left leg increased in size.
"Now, Mr. Baxter," said the interviewer,
"tell me something. How do the young women
tourists stack up for looks?"
"You had better ask Roberts about that; I
don't see very well; and, besides, Roberts is
younger than I am."
So the interviewer went into the next car and
at a favorable moment said-" Mr. Roberts, tell
me, are there any pretty girl tourists?"
Mr. Roberts looked thoughtful for a moment,
then-" Well, I've never seen any, Mr. Collins,
but, then, I've been on this job only two years."
A member of Congress, with whom he was es-
pecially friendly, was urging Colonel Goethals
one day to explain about the allotment of quarters
on the Isthmus. When the Colonel had finished
the Congressman said,
"Oh, yes, now I understand; if I were in the
canal service I would be allotted a house at the
rate of $7,500 a year."
"No," answered Colonel Goethals, "because
you wouldn't be getting $7,500 a year in the canal


At a dinner one night not many months ago I
told some snake stories of the Panama jungle,
and much to my surprise most of the men present
believed that I had been stretching the truth.
A few questions revealed the fact that only one
other man of the eleven present had ever been far
into the jungle, and none of them had spent more
than one night and day there.
So, although these stories are addressed to all
who wish to read them, their true significance will
be felt only by those few of the Canal men whose
work has carried them outside the limits of the
settlements, who know the fascination of the
jungle, its changing moods, and its treachery.
In one hour the sun looks through trees and bushes
and traces a thousand patterns on the ground,
the next the rattle of rain on the leaves is deafen-
ing, soon night falls and the parakeets, crickets
frogs, and lizards begin their unending chorus,
then the bark of the monkeys adds to the din,
and now and again the cry of the wild cat and

growling bark of the mountain lion make one glad
that he is beside a bright fire and his machete or
gun is close at hand. And all of this so close to
the settlements and the Canal, that the blast of
the adobe shot, and the scream of the locomotive
whistle can be heard quite distinctly. A mile
inland from the Canal, and you find yourself in a
different country, and remember, you doubting
ones, that it is of a different country I am speaking
On our way back from a short detour one after-
noon, while we were on the relocation survey, my
men and I came to the Gatun river (Gatuncillo
we called it then). The water was high, and we
could see that the cayuco was tied on the other
bank. None of the men felt that he could swim
across, so I stripped and went over. The cayuco
was there, but the paddle was not, so I had to
swim back, and we left the trail to go up the river
searching for a ford. It was late afternoon, and
somehow we got turned around. Four adult men
lost their way alongside a river, there was no
current and we did not know whether we were
going up or down stream, until we had made half a
mile or more, and could see that we were going in
the wrong direction. Finally we found a crossing
and beat our way back towards the trail. We
had been lost only half an hour or so, but mean-
while the dark had come on. The trocha was

broad, and there was no doubt that by keeping
straight ahead two miles, we would soon get to
Tiger Hill where our camp had been made. There
was no danger, but the dark came on before we
had gone far. My men were not natives, but
West Indians, as unaccustomed to the jungle as I.
No one spoke. The myriad voices of the forest
made an unfamiliar din, and suddenly upon the
cacaphony of birds and monkeys there broke the
sinister cry of a tiger cat. Again let me repeat
there was no danger. But upon me there fell the
spell of the unknown and unknowable. It was
on the men also, for they drew closer together and
we advanced almost as one man. Many times
since then I have felt the same chill sensation,
the same answering straightening of the back, and
setting of the teeth, that I felt in that few minutes
before we saw the lights of the camp ahead of us.
The jungle at night is a feeling that baffles words.
One afternoon Fitch and I were working on the
Caimitillo Ridge and became separated from one
another. About 4 o'clock I started down stream
to join him, because we needed at least two hours
to make the journey home. It was in the dry
season and the branch of the stream along which
I had been working was dry. I was surprised
therefore, after walking about ten minutes, to
notice that there were a number of water holes.
Finally I stopped and tried to recollect a rain the

night before, but could recall nothing of the kind.
There was only one thing to do and that was to
keep on down the stream, and I did this. Before
long the holes became so large that I could not
walk around them and had to wade, but I kept on
alternately on dry river bottom and in holes from
six inches to four feet deep. After about half an
hour's walk I entered a canyon, and then realized
that my way was lost. Straight ahead was a
bend in the course of the stream so I decided to go
at least that far. As I turned the corner I looked
straight into the muzzle of a shot gun. I hollered,
and the man behind the gun lowered it. He was a
cholo, but could understand enough of what I call
my Spanish to find out why I was there. He told
me that I was on the Chilibree river, and that
the Caimitillo was an hour's walk along a trail
which he pointed out. Fitch had waited for me,
and together we hiked homeward in the dark.
It was 9 o'clock that night when we reached
Culebra, tired, and with our clothing in tatters,
because in the night we had got off the trail
several times. There was nothing stirring about
this misadventure, but it occurred six years after
the first time I was lost, and that night both
Fitch and I felt again, and as keenly as in our
earlier experiences, the sinister aspect of the
Christmas in 1907 was followed by Sunday,

and three of us started out with rifles, food, and
shelter tents for two days of hunting. We went
west from Tabernilla, and about three miles inland
picked up a bush Spaniard as a guide. He took us
along the trail toward the headwaters of the
Trinidad. I had not been feeling well, but the
excitement of the hunt and the relief from hard
work cheered me up, and the trip went well,
until we started back. Then I began to lag behind
a little, the other fellows offered to carry my pack
for me, but I thought I could make it all right,
and just slowed my pace. They went ahead to
let the cook know we were coming. The trail
was good. At one place it ran into a clearing,
and I walked across this to the other side and
began looking for the continuation. I could not
find it, and so walked back and took a new start.
Again I failed, and after three trials, I became
impatient. I walked back along the trail thinking
that perhaps I had passed by the real track and
had taken a detour into the clearing. The bush
walled it in on both sides so that you couldn't
break through if you had tried. It was becoming
dark, I was rapidly weakening, and then I did
what most men do when lost in the jungle-
began to roam about aimlessly around the clear-
ing looking for the exit. At last I was fagged out,
and sitting down in the center of the space shot
my gun three times. In a few minutes I heard a

shout, and soon the Spanish guide whom we had
left behind at his home appeared. He took my
gun and pack, and then showed me the trail. It
did not run across the clearing but along the upper
side, and struck off into the jungle at right angles
with its previous direction. In the course of an
hour we were safe in camp at Tabernilla, and the
next day I went to Ancon Hospital where I was
sick with malaria for six weeks. How large a part
of the six weeks were attributable to malaria and
how much to scare I don't know, but I have
always blamed at least two weeks of it on the
fatigue of mind and body, and the worry of the
few minutes when I was lost. In this case also
my fear may have been ill founded, but to be
sick and exhausted in the jungle alone at night,
with the growling of the lion and cry of the cat
around me was an unpleasant prospect, and it was
not hard for me to think of it as dangerous.
C.A. McIlvaine has told me a story of being lost
near Corozal which illustrates how easily a man
may go astray in country with which he is not fam-
iliar. He took a shot gun one holiday and went
across the railroad at Corozal into a cane brake.
After beating about for an hour or so and not get-
ting a shot he turned back. Then he realized that
he did not know which way to go. The cane stood
high above head, the sun was near noon, a dozen
paths lead in as many directions, there was no way

to tell direction. He knocked about for over an
hour, the worry came, he had all afternoon in
which to get out, but he was becoming tired.
Finally he heard the shriek of a locomotive
whistle and started in that direction. In incred-
ibly short time he was out of the brake. He had
got out just in time. The tide was running in and
in another hour the whole field of cane would
have been covered with water. He found that he
had been lost within half an hour of home.
While we were in camp at Tiger Hill on the
relocation survey, Dougherty, chief of our party,
remained behind one afternoon to make some
observations along the bottoms. He was alone.
Night came and we missed him from the camp.
After waiting an hour or so we started out to look
for him, carrying lanterns and a couple of guns.
Soon we met him half dragging himself towards
camp. He had been lost in a thicket of thorny
grass and darkness had come on. He shouted,
but the dense wall of cane hemmed in the sound.
Once his shout was answered by the growl of a
lion nearby, again he saw a large snake crawl past
him and, when it noticed him, run rapidly away.
The ground was wet, the sky overcast, there was
no indication of direction anywhere, he began to
run about wildly, looking for an outlet from the
field of grass. Then hopelessly, and with little
strength remaining he had hit out in what he

thought might be the way towards high land, and
soon after he ran into one of our trochas. I knew
him well, there was not a weak spot in his make-
up, but he was as completely unnerved that night
as I have ever seen a man. It was not a thing he
could explain, luckily, with us, it was not neces-
sary. For each of us in his turn had been lost
in the jungle and each knew how in his own case
there had come a time when the ages had rolled
back, and he had found himself alone and beset
with all the fears of his primeval ancestors, the
fear that finally drove men together for self
When I try to become definite about the jungle,
I realize how little even one who has seen much
of it knows about its life. Impressions of beauty,
mystery and fear, a lure with a menace, a smile
that only half covers a snarl-and all else is told
in a few isolated incidents when some special
phase of the wilderness life has passed beneath
the eye. An orchid beckons from the branch of a
tree, a pair of wild pigs dash away into the brush,
a tiger cat shows its bright eyes for a moment
and in a flash of sinewy grace is gone, birds soar
overhead, the heron balances daintily on a reed
by the river, an alligator skids from a mud bank
into the water, monkeys bark in the trees, a lion
growls at night-in such slight things is summed
up my jungle lore.

Every Canal man knows what we mean by lion,
yet other eyes may see this and brand the Six
Year Men as nature fakirs. This lion is of two
kinds, black, and tawny; full grown he stands
thirty inches high; his breast is broad, like that of
a bull dog, but his legs are long; his head is square
but cat-like; he growls almost like a lion but ends
his speech with a bark. I have never heard of
him attacking a man; but the natives of the
jungle fear him, he would be a dangerous adver-
sary at close quarters.
It is generally understood that the animals of
the Panama jungle are afraid of men, it is certain
that they do not attack them, but run away;
whether this is caution or fear is unknown. One
night when Wiggins was on triangulation work
he pitched his tent on the Salud. He had with
him two native helpers. They lay down outside
the tent covered with a rude structure of branches
and he rolled up under a dog tent. He was
awakened by a loud crash and an angry growl and
bark right outside the tent. All together the
negroes and he jumped up and grabbed their
machetes; they had no guns. It was very dark,
they saw nothing; but a crashing of branches in
the jungle told that the lion had been scared.
In a minute he raised his growl again and the air
vibrated uncannily with the noise. The men beat
loudly on tin pans with their machetes and drove

him away. Five minutes later the same growl
and bark were heard on the opposite slope of the
ridge. The negroes lit a fire and did not go to
sleep again that night. In the morning the marks
of the lion's paws were found near the food sup-
plies, and within five feet of where the negroes
lay. He must have smelled them before he got so
dose; but whether one turned in sleep and scared
him, or he, intending to attack, had lost courage
at the last moment, could only be guessed. Wig-
gins always carried a rifle after that when he went
far into the jungle.
The only way to be certain that a lion will or
will not attack a man is to try one out. Personally,
I don't care enough for the truth to risk the experi-
ment. One night we were in camp out near
Gigante; our food hung up on a pole to keep ants
and animals away from it. Apparently the pork
attracted a lion and at least one cat, for we heard
them sniffing around in the jungle near us before
we went to sleep. That is a strange sensation,
to be in a small clearing surrounded with trees
and brush, to be perfectly safe there, and yet to
know that outside the charmed circle of your fire
are wild things that could rend you to pieces if
they would; and then to yield to sleep and lose
yourself as completely as though at home in bed.
To be wakened by a cry and a roar, adjust your
mind to the unusual situation, and then to realize

that the wild things are still there, is weird. That
night this very thing happened, and I slept no
more until morning came. It was not fear perhaps,
but an undefined dread that recurred insistently,
and kept the mind active even while reason bade
it rest.
One time when he went into the jungle on
surveys, C. D. Smith took along with him his bull
dog. He (the dog, I mean) was a fine big fellow,
and he had licked everything on the Zone. Smith
went into camp near the headwaters of the
Chagres. It is a pleasant feeling in camp to know
you have a dog, especially a big fellow like Victor.
All of the natives have dogs about their place.
They give the alarm when tiger cats come too
near the chicken yard, and also keep away the
lions, because no matter how savage a jungle
beast may be he loses confidence when a noise is
made. Well, Victor used to prowl about the
woods, occasionally catching a rabbit, chasing a
deer, and stirring up wild pig. On Sundays we
would take him out hunting with us; he wasn't
much good except as company, but he sure was a
fine companion. Every night at supper time he
would be in camp, and when we went to sleep he
was always snoozing away just inside the tent
flap. One supper time he did not return, and at
bed time we became anxious. Finally, about
nine o'clock he came in. But it was not the

jaunty, confident, companionable Victor of the
morning. He barely dragged himself into the
tent,-ears down, tail as limp as a bull dog's can
be, legs wobbling, sides heaving like a bellows,
foam dripping from his mouth, eyes bloodshot.
In short he was absolutely exhausted. He sank
down beside "C. D.'s" cot, and we bathed his
head and searched for wounds. No bones were
broken, and, as far as we could discover, then and
by daylight, he was not bitten. We never did
find out what had happened to him. If he had
got into a scrap with a tiger or lion he would have
been bitten or scratched; if a venomous snake
had bitten him, he would have swollen; if he had
fallen, a sprain or fracture would have been
evident; if he had chased a deer or pig until
exhausted, he would have died right away or have
recovered under our gentle treatment. Our only
guess was that he had been running down a trail
and one of the constrictors that wait for deer and
other animals had wound itself around him; he
had fought himself loose, probably had killed the
snake; but the strain and the strange attack had
exhausted and scared him. The frightened look
never left his eyes, he trembled at every noise in
the bush, and after two days he died literally
"scared to death."
There was a strange reflex. Smith refused to
remain at the camp; and none of us enjoyed a

single hour in that place. One of the fellows
expressed the feeling of the whole outfit when he
"I'm not afraid of 'anything'; but 'nothing'
has me going, just the way it did Old Vic."
One night in camp I was awakened by a stinging
bite. I brushed the insect off my leg, thinking it a
scorpion or tarantula. By the light of the candle,
I saw it crawling up the side of my mosquito net-
a big, black Congo ant. I burned a hole in my
net and so fried the ant that it fell to the ground.
In the morning it was still alive. It measured one
inch in length. I cut it into three sections with
my machete, at noon all three sections were alive,
and at four o'clock that afternoon one section
was still living. The only bad effect to me was an
itchy bite like a mosquito sting; the ant d:d not
We used to go swimming in all of the streams
that were deep enough; but this is not safe,
especially for one man alone. Alligators are
dangerous. The little fellows from five to ten
feet long that we see along the Chagres are old
and strong. They grab hold and drown their prey,
then leave it to rot in the mud until it is fit to eat-
the way some hunters let birds become "game."
In 1906, a man who was stationed at Miraflores
as a nurse was swimming in the Rio Grande, when
an alligator grabbed his leg. He held on to the

grass along the bank and hollered. Another fel-
low gave him a hand, and fairly pulled him out of
the alligator's mouth; but the brute came right to
the surface before he let go. The fellow's leg was
all lacerated and it was weeks before it healed.
One day last month when we were surveying at the
wireless station at Caimito, we saw an alligator
about five feet long. It was four hundred yards
away from the water, and had probably come up
to get a chicken from one of the yards near by.
This is the farthest from water that I have ever
seen one.
All the Six Year Men have seen an iguana, but
few of them realize that it has the ostrich habit
of hiding its head. One day on the Mandinga we
stirred up a big fellow about thirty inches long.
He made for the water, and we followed. He
jumped off the bank and swam rapidly to an
overhang of roots. He poked his head into a
pocket; and remained there with twenty-eight
inches of his body and tail exposed. He made an
excellent stew.
While on the Mandinga survey we saw the end
of a tarantula fight. It must have been a vicious
battle. Each of them had apparently been about
the size of a man's hand, judging by what re-
mained. All about were pieces of legs, the stomach
of one was entirely eaten away, the other had
lost all but two legs, and was gashed badly about

the body. He was crawling away into the bush,
and the disemboweled one was still clinging to a
leg, the victor apparently too weak to shake him
On our way home one night from up the
Caimitillo river, three of us saw an armadillo
in the trail ahead. A heavy rain was falling and
it made such noise that our approach was not
heard. I sneaked up and fell on the armadillo,
and of course he could not get away. We played
about with him, watching his efforts to escape,
although all the time held by a stout cord. Finally
we turned him over to the boys, and I for one
felt regret next day when they told me the little
fellow had made a good stew. He was a cute
animal. The natives sometimes have them for
domestic pets.
Everyone suspects a fellow when he begins to
tell about snakes, so I sha'n't persist. There was
a blue snake that chased C. L. Davis half a mile
one day; a python at least 15 feet long that used
to steal chickens at Miraflores; and one afternoon
I ran into the end of what must have been a
fierce fight between a tomagaw (the Panama
rattler) and a boa. But there you are beginning
to smile, so I sha'n't go any farther with the snake
Anyway that's enough from me. I hope that
in some future Chagres Year Book some of the

fellows who know more about the jungle than I
do will tell their stories. Roy Jones, C. L. Carpen-
ter, Quimby, White, Loring, Gilmore, all have
three stories to my one, and three times as good.
And they like to talk "jungle," too, at certain
times. In fact every man that has ever spent
much time in the bush feels at periods a real
longing to live the lonely days over again. For
the jungle, although fearsome at times, is interest-
ing; and its menace is probably a part of its
enduring fascination.

One of the big men in Culebra Cut, while on
an inspection tour one day discovered a negro
boy asleep behind a piece of sheet iron. He took
the boy by the shoulder, shook him, and bade
him get up. Then he led him by the collar two
hundred yards or more to the nearest tower,
where the general foreman happened to be stand-
"I want you to discharge this boy right away,"
said the scandalized official. "He has been
sleeping on the job."
The general foreman looked at the boy curi-
ously and said, "My boy, where are you working?"
Sniffling, the boy replied, "Ah aint wukkin
nowheah mister, Ah is just looking' for a job."


After dinner at Colon Hospital Mess it was the
habit of many of the men to gather at The Bench
on the veranda over the office and spend an hour
in the senseless but thoroughly enjoyable pursuit
of "Talking it Over." Many of the stories told
refer back to a period before I arrived on the
Isthmus, and therefore are not in any sense my
tales. In fact the most I can do is to tell the
stories that were better told by Drs. Noland,
Walsh, Zeiler, Beverly and others, who took part
in, or were witnesses of the various episodes.
Practically every man who has many pleasant
recollections of the canal service has paid hard
cash for his pleasure, and most of us regret now
and then that we were not less wasteful of our
dinero. Such as these will get some consolation
from the standard economy stories of the Colon
Tucked away in the files of the Chairman's
office, I am told, there is a bit of correspondence
on the difference between economy and mean-

ness. A certain employee lived in Corozal and
worked in Panama. He bought a cup of coffee
each morning in a Spanish restaurant in the city,
did without lunch, and gorged himself at night at
the Corozal Hotel. Naturally the ordinary thirty
cent dinner would not fill his cavity. Regularly
he had "two helpings" of everything there was,
but the steward refused to give him more. He
complained to the Chief Engineer, at that time
Mr. John F. Stevens, and Mr. Stevens referred
the complaint to Mr. Jackson Smith. An in-
vestigation revealed the facts as I have stated
them. Mr. Smith concluded his report with the
"This man should not eat at the hotel; send
him to the corral."
It is hardly less easy to sympathize with the
prize ascetic of my experience. This man worked
at Colon Hospital and was paying court to one
of the young women of the nursing corps at Ancon
Hospital. During the early stages of his court-
ship he was invited to dinner by various of the
doctors at Ancon. When this source of nourish-
ment failed, he timed his arrival at the Ancon
mess so as to edge in during the rush, and thus
avoid paying for his meals Soon, however, the
waiters put a stop to this. Then he would fill
a bottle with coffee at the noon meal in Colon

and upon his arrival at Panama at night would
drink this, and call it a meal.
People soon became aware that he was very
economical, and he became a subject of close
watch. One evening while he was treating the
lady of his adoration to a quiet walk along Cen-
tral Avenue in Panama, they passed a peanut
"My, those peanuts smell good, don't they!"
she said.
"Yes," he answered, "let's stop a while and
smell them." The crown of his economy, how-
ever, came in his arrangement for the evening
meal at Panama. He found that the salient
principle in his coffee was caffein; and upon that
basis procured a substitute. Henceforth when
he went to Panama he carried with him two cap-
sules of caffein, ate one at 7 p.m. and one at
ii that night.
In answer to your question-"Did he marry
the girl?" I must say, "No; and served her
right." As they sat on the veranda at the
nurses' quarters in Ancon one night enjoying the
free air, he was overheard to say to her-
"You smell like Florida water."
"Yes," she admitted, "I rubbed some on my
forehead before I came out."
He sighed, arose, pressed her hand, and almost
loudly said, "I see we are not for one another;

no lady that uses shaver's wash when she don't
need it would be able to hold me long."
One of the girls who watched him leaving the
house said he slipped a pill into his mouth as he
closed the door. I often have wondered whether
it was the ii o'clock pill, or an extra one, taken
because his heart was broken.
About an hour after the docking of the steamer
Panama one day in 1908, there arrived at the
Hospital a tall, thin young doctor. He carried
a satchel the size of a lady's handbag which in-
quiry developed was his sole luggage, and further
inquiry revealed contained only a. large plug of
tobacco and a clean paper collar. There was a
look of "dry cleaned" about him, if indeed it
would be considered "cleaned" at all.
The following day he bought a khaki suit with
military collar on the coat, the kind that stands
close about the neck, and is held in front by two
hooks and eyes. He wore it constantly, and was
known to be found asleep in it, although the story
that he used this suit as pajamas was probably
untrue. Six weeks after his arrival he accosted
the chief of the clinic and asked if it was true
that khaki would wash.
"Yes," said Dr. Noland, "that suit will wash,
but I wouldn't wash it if I were you, because
you might not be able to get it on again, it might

A year later he left the service. One of the last
things he was heard to say before boarding the
ship was, "Well, I'll have to give up my khaki
when I get into the cold country." He did this
before his arrival in New York, for it was re-
ported that he made a present of it to the steward
who attended him at the ship's mess.
The most interesting case of "tape-worm" we
had ever seen came into the clinic while I was at
Colon Hospital, in the person, of a fellow phy-
sician. He was not stingy, like the man who
belonged in the corral, but simply hungry. He
would patiently eat a man's share while the rest
of us were eating, and then when all had been fed
he would have the waiters bring whatever was
left on the platter and set it down before him.
He would eat a whole plateful of potatoes and a
dozen slices of roast beef without once looking
up. His habit of always looking at his plate gave
us a good opportunity to watch him, and the
stories of his gorging are therefore authentic.
The steward, instead of resenting his demands,
took a pride in filling him up, and all the waiters
served him gladly, so strange an object he seemed
to them. On one occasion he ate 27 wienerwursts,
with the accompanying vegetables and bread.
One morning he came out of the dining room with
a sad, worried look on his face; so forlorn looking

indeed that one of us asked him if he were not
feeling well.
"Oh, yes," he sighed, "but hungry."
"Why, what did you have for breakfast," was
"Nothing but 13 little eggs," he replied.
There was no more popular man at the hospital
in my day than a certain young surgeon, brilliant,
handsome, and agreeable. He would work stead-
ily for a month, then take a day off and go on a
toot. On these occasions he appeared to be
nothing short of a blotter, so much liquid could
he absorb without changing appearance. One of
his cronies and admirers was a slight dapper
young physician who began to get dizzy at the
mere mention of "Scotch." One evening the
physician said to the surgeon:
"I collected some money unexpectedly today,
and I'm willing to buy all the drinks you can
"How much have you got?" asked the surgeon.
"A hundred dollars," was the answer.
"Well, we can start on that," commented the
At 7:30 they hit the first oasis, one of those that
look out upon Colon Plaza. They began with
the canal builder's standard, "Scotch Whiskey."
Whatever the surgeon ordered the physician
had "same." In the first three places they

confined themselves pretty closely to Scotch, but
after things warmed up inside, the orders compre-
hended beer, cocktails, and creme de menthe.
About ten o'clock they were sitting in Brady's
when the surgeon observed:
"Doc, I never saw you drink so much before."
"Never mind me, I'm tuned right tonight;
and our money isn't a quarter gone.
"Well, let's have some fizzy water?"
"Take it if you want to, but cut me out on
that. I don't like champagne, anyway."
In telling about it later the physician said this
was the only thin ice he encountered in all that
memorable skate.
At midnight the physician brought the surgeon
home, the former in fine spirits and quite sober,
the latter just able to navigate when the course
was marked out for him. Next morning the
surgeon was feeling frazzled, the physician quite
fit. The episode became a classic. The phy-
sician drank but sparingly after that, but every-
one knew he could hire out as a reservoir and
make a good living, if he chose to give up doctoring.
Six months later the surgeon was leaving for a
new field, and at a dinner before the day of de-
parture, the physician told the story. He had
arranged with the bar tender of every white
man's saloon in Colon to serve him a soft drink

that looked like the surgeon's drink every time
he handed out the real stuff to the surgeon.
But there were sad events as well as funny in
our life; and I shall never forget the look of gloom
that clouded every face the day Dr. T- ar-
rived among us. He announced at once that he
had studied for the ministry, but feeling he could
do more good as a physician had later taken a
medical course. He was tall, rather handsome,
but so serious that when he entered a room one
automatically began to think of one's sins. The
nurses spoke softly, eliminating slang even, in
his presence. The doctors discussed serious
things in his presence, many of them almost for-
got how to "cuss." Bibles were taken out of
trunks, the mold brushed off, and they were dis-
played in dozens of rooms; and Dr. Walsh even
thumbed the gild edges off his testament in order
to give it an appearance of constant use. This
kept up for quite two weeks, and every minute
the pressure became harder to bear. One of the
nurses sought a transfer to Ancon because the
atmosphere at Colon was becoming to rare. The
bachelors stole quietly away and drank heavily;
the married men beat their wives. About one
o'clock one morning the occupants of the hospital
quarters heard an awful row at the gate; a few
minutes later the bachelors were pulled from
their beds by the minister-doctor, who was

howling, not hymns, but concert hall ballads. At
breakfast he apologized and explained:
"I have been more or less of a booze fighter all
my life, so when I came here I determined to cut
it out. I knew that if I acted like a minister no
one would ask me to drink, so I played that role
for two whole weeks. I knew it was hard on
you fellows, but it was worse on me."
The penitent one was forgiven, and once again
the routine work went on as merrily as before,
to the accompaniment of slang and cussing, that
is, of the natural outlets for inside irritations.
A successful hoax was built up around a case of
"cancer," and the victim was a very green young
doctor recently arrived from the most verdant
part of the States. He heard us talking about the
case and its many strange features and became
interested. Finally he asked to be shown the
cancer. It had been preserved in alcohol, an
ugly, sinister looking thing with a nucleus as big
as one's fist and eight arms extending out in all
directions. Plainly discernible were the pyloric
glands that had come out with one of the arms,
on another arm could be seen part of the spleen,
the nucleus itself might have been the gall bladder,
as indeed the new doctor himself suggested. It
had come from a man who had entered the hos-
pital suffering from arsenic poisoning. In the
course of one of his vomiting fits he began to

strangle, and the nurse in attendance put her
finger in his mouth to help him. She pulled out
the cancer, roots (count 'em, 8) and all. The
record of the case was complete and it was patent
that a paper should be written on it; but we were
all very busy on articles concerning cases of our
own, so the cancer naturally fell to the new
doctor. He also fell for it. After much study he
prepared a paper which was to be the leading
feature of a meeting of the hospital staff. He
would have gone ahead and read his paper were
it not that the preliminary speakers were so
excruciatingly funny that he tumbled. When
his turn came he merely announced that his paper
was not of a humorous nature, and therefore he
would not read it.
And what was the joke? Why the supposed
cancer was a young octopus that one of the staff
had caught and preserved in alcohol.
The same young man left the Isthmus believing
himself to be the hero of a weird adventure. Upon
his arrival he had been informed that one of his
duties was to inspect the seawall of the hospital
once weekly, at night, and look for leaks. On
one of his inspection nights he heard a groaning
and lamentation from a dark spot, and hastening
towards the place saw a wet, bedraggled figure,
apparently an Indian, climb out of the sea. This
person immediately ran towards him, clasped his

legs, and began a piteous entreaty in Spanish.
The doctor pushed the man aside and called an
orderly, who interpreting, said that the poor
wretch had come from the San Bias coast with his
wife, sister, and brother-in-law. Nearing Colon
they mistook the lights of the hospital for those
of the harbor, and running in had been wrecked
on the reef. All had been drowned save himself,
and of five bags of gold nuggets only one had been
saved, this he held up before the astonished
After getting the crazy, gesticulating Aborigine
calmed from a fresh outburst of grief, a task that
required the doctor and two orderlies, the doctor
asked questions. The Indian pled for help to
buy a cayuco with which to seek the bodies of
his dear ones, and offered the bag of nuggets as
security for ten pesos, knowing that the dear
"medico Americano" would surely return it
when he brought back the ten. But it was in
vain. The M.D. was frightened by the thought
of a Panamanian coroner's jury, and although he
saw the nuggets, (which he later declared were
genuine) he refused to part with the ten. The
lament became wild and passionate, and another
doctor came, examined the nuggets, and strove
to hold back the Indian from clasping the knees
of the puzzled seawall inspector. Tears and gold

alike availed nothing, and the Indian departed
with his grief and nuggets.
At sunrise the orderlies were seen searching
eagerly in the grass for the nuggets which they
had accidentally dropped from the dirty rag in
which the poor Indian had wrapped them, the
unsuspecting savage never noticing their treach-
ery. One of the older nurses purchased one of
these nuggets and when giving the order for
placing it upon a stick pin, told the fascinating
story to the jeweler, Huntoon.
Later it developed that the Indian was one of
the hospital staff in disguise, the nuggets were
brass filings loaned by the plumber, and the whole
occasion was, an effort on the part of the staff to
extract from the doctor the price of a keg of beer.

At Gatun one day a culvert became clogged
and the foreman of a gang sent one of the laborers
into it to clear away the refuse. This fellow
loosened up the stuff and crawled right on through
the culvert, emerging at the opposite end, where
another gang of laborers was at work. When he
crawled out of the hole and stood upright, the
foreman of the new gang said,
"Who are you? Where in hell did you come
"Me," said the darky, "Ah, sir? Wah ah
come from Jamaica, baas."

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