and during a pause in our conversation he surprised me by exclaiming: "Tatlow, I'm a restless beggar. I'd like to have a jolly good row with somebody." "Get married," said I. This tickled him greatly and restored his good humour. He lived and died a bachelor nevertheless. In 1896 the _Railways (Ireland) Act_ was passed, and with it Robertson had much to do. Its purpose ran: "To facilitate the construction of Railways and the Establishment of other means of Communication in Ireland, and for other purposes incidental thereto." It provided for further advances by the Treasury, under prescribed conditions, for constructing railways and for establishing lines of steamers, coaches, etc., which were shown to be necessary for the development of the resources of any district, where owing to the circumstances of such district, they could not be made without government assistance. It also authorised the construction and maintenance, as part of such railways, of any pier, quay or jetty. This little Act, which consisted of thirteen sections (I wonder he did not think the number unlucky), was Robertson's particular pet. Concerning its clauses, from the time they were first drafted, many a talk we had together over a cup of tea with, to use his own expression, "a wee drappie in't." I may have hinted as much, but do not think I have mentioned before that he was a Scotchman and a Highlander. In the same year was passed the _Light Railways Act_, an Act which applied to Great Britain only. Ireland had already had her share (some thought more than her share) of light railway legislation, with its accompanying doles in the shape of easy loans and free gifts, whilst England and Scotland had been left in the cold. It was their turn now; but as this Act, and the subject of light railways generally, formed the substance of a paper which I prepared and read in 1900 before the International Railway Congress at Paris, and of which I shall speak later on, I will pass it now without more comment.