I stood with the mother of the James boys, beside the grave of Jesse, in her door yard, when she told how that once when Jesse thought he was dying he took his watch charm and handed it to a comrade, saying, "Take this to sister Anna and tell her to pray that we meet in Heaven." That mother's tears did not seem to me like crocodile tears. In fact there is something about the deadly bandit which we sometimes admire, but if there is anything fascinating about Harvard James and his sympathizers who sneak in under the cloak of morality to influence the young to turn against the great thinking spiritual world, I, for one, cannot see it. I may be too blunt and plain in my remarks concerning soulless advocates but I feel that these teachers are not only swinging to the other extreme from religion, but through selfishness or ignorance they are creating unrest and war. Most of our national leaders have been drilled in these theories and while many are too wise to accept them there are those who accept what they are taught just as a calf takes milk from the cow. These thoughtless learned often become political leaders. Especially where finances are concerned, for with this no soul theory in view, their only object in life can be aggrandizement and luxury tinctured with animal passion. EVENING OF MY LIFE DAY Years have passed since my cycling days and yet I am strong and athletic. My daughter Minnie and her husband, Dr. B. H. Chamberlain, with their only boy Hiland, have lately sold their home on Washington boulevard and are not yet settled again. Arthur and Jessie, with three children, Marvin and the twins, Jean and Willard, have an elegant home on Keystone avenue, Rivert Forest. He owns the Inland Whitelead Co., which is a large concern. Alberta and her husband, George Carlson, with their three bright girls, Mary, Mildred and Frances, live in their comfortable home near me in Oak Park. George is captain of our fire department. Thus I have my children and grandchildren around me, all in good health and standing in the community. I am still conducting my manufacture of copper and tinware on my property, corner Washington boulevard and Curtis street. My 75 years does not seem to trouble me, for I feel as well as I did fifty years ago. Mary Hoyt, my first wife, long since entered the shadows where faults and failings grow dim, while virtues and charms blend the past, present and future into one eternal morning of gladness. In 1902, I married Mrs. Williamson, whose maiden name was Mary Prickett, of Goshen, Ind. Our days together have been continued sunshine and joy. Evenings when I return home each tells of the day's joys, troubles and ludicrous incidents.