He loved flowers, spent much time in the cultivation of many varieties, and carried on regular correspondence with friendly horticulturists. Dr. Stennett was interested in a wide range of subjects and derived much pleasure from discussions with intimates among railway officials and literary people. He was a man of determination and died practically in harness, having left his duties only a few days before his end, and on July 22nd, 1915, the date of his death, he dressed, bade adieu to his library and conversed with his family two minutes before his spirit took flight. The Great Northern Railway has at St. Paul an Asst. Genl. Passr. Agent from Sarnia, Ontario, in the person of W. R. Mills; Mr. J. A. Emslie, Genl. Agent Santa Fe at Milwaukee, originated in Canada. John F. Barron, Genl. Agent, Union Pacific Ry, Chicago, came from London, where his after business hours accomplishment as a clever monologue artist and dancer, were perfected with his townsman and associate, the metropolitan star George Primrose. M. O. Barnard, Genl. Agent, N.P.R., Buffalo, N.Y., is a lad from the land of lacrosse and Sid. Dewey representing the “G.T.R.” at New York, is a brother of the Grand Trunk’s freight traffic manager. [Illustration: GEORGE BARNES, General Agent, Northern Pacific Railway; Vice-President, Detroit Transportation Club, pictured promoting Third Liberty Loan.] So enamored is William R. Callaway, Genl. Passr. Agent, Soo Line, of the scenery and hunter’s paradise adjacent to his line that he dines with implements mounted with buckhorn purloined through a coach window by some friendly sharpshooter. He has ever been a pronounced independent in his methods, basking in no borrowed brilliancy, and as an original and persistent advertiser since the time of his regime as “D.P.A.”, “C.P.R.”, Toronto, this gentleman merits his unique reputation. It is whispered that when “relieving” some years ago at an Ontario hamlet, one seductive spring morning “W. R.” quit angling in the family aquarium, shut up shop and prepared to separate a few shiners from a creek close to the depot. Crawling well out on an overhanging branch he dropped anchor. Being then not versed in the gentle art tight rope balancing, drowsiness or anxiety soon precipitated a crisis. The would be Walton turned a couple of neat flip flaps and straightway “Father William” fathomed the moisture beneath. The fat hotelkeeper’s “Inexpressibles”, as Thackeray terms the garment, was the only alternative afterwards and the “G.P.A.” admits the ensemble would have made a hungry horse turn from his oats.