The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1905-06-01
SEES GHOsTLY TRIO.
GOVERNMENT CLERK IN REMIN.
IscENT MOOD.
Memories of Departed Personal
Friends With Whom He Worked
Crowd Memory Of old-Timer in His
MONDAY StroiIs.

Strelling along the corridors Of the
treasury building in an apparently
dreamy and meditative mood, an old
clerk, who admits hat he has passed
the time of life allotted to man by DR..
Osler, was accosted by a representa-
tive of the Washington Star, who
proffered the traditional penny for
his thoughts.
WELL" said he, 81 am thinking OF
the many men l have met in this
building in my long career, and par
tlcularly of three that l knew very
we'll, and of whom almost every other
person, at least everybody in Wash
1ngton, knew all about; but l knew
them we'll, knew them personally.
The first OF these" he continued,
was Nathan Sargent. His non de
plume was oliver Oldschool.' OF
course you know that. His Office when
he was commissioner of customs
was on the floor above to the right of
the center of the building from Fiji
teenth street. One of the courtliest of
men, a thorough gentleman of the
old school, as the term is-kind and
genial to all his subordinates. 1 can
see him now" he said, In my minds
eye, Horatio,'" he quoted, as the Star
man evinced a disposition to get a
glimpse of the old author himself. >
Right here where we are standing"
the old clerk said, pointing at one OF
the rooms in the main corridor, was
Gen. Spinner's office. 1 knew him
personally also, and recollect when
his office was moved into it's more
spacious quarters in the new north
ern wing of the building. That old
guardian of the public moneys was
e~verybody's friend. Visitors to Wash
ington were always anxious to greet
him, and they were gratiied, for he
was glad to meet strangers all the
time. Lord, how the women in his
bureau loved him, and the men also,
for that matter. 1 was here when he
came and here when he went.
There is another mar that l met in
a spiritual sense, as I take this pedes.
trian exercise at almost every noon
hour after I have disposed of my bread
and cheese luncheon, and that was
Walt Whitman, the poet. He was,
like the others, my personal friend.
He was not in this part of the build
ing, but in that section Of the, new
southern wing allotted in those days
to the encouragement, when the de-
partment Of justice had its local habi
tation under this roof. l remember
when Whitman's Leaves of Grass
grated too harshly upon the sensibili
ties of certain people. and he lost his
place in one of the other departments
There is no use in describing him
to you. Everybody in the city knew
Walt Whitman, but l only mention
him as the third in the trio of ghosts
I fancy 1 see in my little round of ex
ercise in these. passages.
There are men in this department
older than I am he concluded, "but
doubt if any of them enjoyed the
close personal friendship of the three
I have mentioned to you.
''In those days we worked only
until 8 o'clock in the afternoon" he
said with a sigh. "Now we peg away
an hour and a half later. Things have
changed in a hundred ways; but
times up-I must go back to my
desk" And thus the old employe OF
the reminiscent mood bade the Star
man adieu.