he asked me several that I could not answer. I told him he had too good a head to be a common canal hand.

"As we were approaching the twenty-one locks of Akron, I sent my bowsman to make the first lock ready. Just as he got there, the bowsman from a boat above made his appearance, and said: 'Don't turn this lock, our boat is just round the bend, ready to enter.' My man objected, and began turning the gate. By this time, both boats were near the lock, and their headlights made it almost as bright as day. Every man from both boats was on hand ready for a field fight. I motioned my bowsman to come to me. Said I Were we here first?' 'It's hard telling, but we'll have the lock anyhow.' 'All right, just as you say.' Jim Garfield tapped me on the shoulder, and asked: 'Does that lock belong to us?' I suppose, according to law, it does not. how.' 'No, we will not.' 'Why?' said I. 'Why?' with a never forget, 'why, because it 'Boys, let them have it.' hands accused Jim of being a fight for his rights. Said I: I was mad last night, but I a coward for aught I know,

But we will have it any

look of indignation I shall don't belong to us.' Said I: "Next morning, one of the coward, because he would not 'Boys, don't be hard on Jim. have got over it. Jim may be but if he is, he is the first one of the name that I ever knew that was. His father was no coward. He helped dig this canal, and weighed over two hundred pounds, and could take a barrel of whisky by the chime and drink out of the bunghole and no man dared call him a coward. You'll alter your mind about Jim, before fall.'

"The next trip, Jim was bowsman. Before we got to Beaver-we were bound for Pittsburg-the boys all liked him first-rate. Before we got back to Cleveland, Jim had the ague. He left my boat at the eleven-mile lock, and struck across country to his home."

On this, his first trip, he had his first fight. He was holding his "setting-pole" against his shoulder; Dave, a hand, was standing a short distance

away, when the boat took a sudden lunge, the pole slipped from the young man's shoulder and flew with terrible force toward Dave. A loud call "Look out, Dave!" was not in time to warn him, and he was struck a painful blow in the ribs. Furiously enraged, he threatened to thrash the offender within an inch of his life, and with his head down, rushed like a mad bull at Garfield. The latter took in the situation at a glance, and stepping aside he waited Dave's approach with quiet confidence. When he was close, he dealt him a terrible blow under the ear, that felled him to the deck of the boat. In an instant he was upon him with his clenched fists raised to strike. "Pound him, him!" called out Captain

Letcher,

if I interfere. A man who'll git mad at an accident orto be thrashed." Jim didn't strike. He saw his antagonist was helpless and he let him up. Dave and he arose, shook hands and were ever after fast friends. This fight was, however, but preliminary to many others during his three months on the tow-path, as the boys on the canal undertaking to bully him, it was constantly necessary to remind them that he wouldn't be bullied, which he always did most effectually by the virtue of his toughened muscles.

Such was his disposition, capacity and attention to duty that in the completion of the first round trip he had learned all there was to be learned on the tow-path. He was promptly promoted from

YOUNG GARFIELD CONQUERING A PEACE.

driver to bowsman, he was accorded the proud privilege of steering the boat instead of steering, the mules.

By actual count during his first trip in his new position he fell overboard fourteen times. This was serious. The malaria of the canal region would in all probability have taken hold of his system in due time anyhow, but these frequent baths greatly helped it. He could not swim a stroke, and aid to fish him out was not always forthcoming. One dark and rainy midnight as the EVENING STAR was leaving one of those long reaches of slack water which abounded in the Ohio and Pennsylvania Canal the boy was called out of his berth to take his turn in tending bow-line. Bundling out of bed, his eyes only half opened, he took his place on the narrow platform below the bow deck and began uncoiling a rope to steady the boat through a lock it was approaching. Sleepily and slowly he unwound the coil till it knotted and caught in a narrow cleft in the edge of the deck. He gave it a sudden pull, but it held fast, then another and a stronger pull and it gave way, but sent him over the bow of the EVENING STAR into the water. Down he went into the dark night and still darker water and the EVENING STAR glided on to bury him among the fishes. No human help was near; God only could save him and He only by a miracle. So the boy thought as he went down saying the prayer his mother had