all pictures the welcomest on human walls."

I am not sure that portraits of the artist by himself, though there are
notable and noble instances to the contrary, are often successful. We
rarely "see oursels as ithers see us," and are inclined to regard our
virtues and our vices with equal equanimity, and to paint ourselves in
too alluring colours; but I will do my best to tell my tale with strict
veracity, and with all the modesty I can muster.

An autobiographer, too, exposes himself to the charge of egotism, but I
must run the risk of that, endeavouring to avoid the scathing criticism
of him who wrote:--

"The egotist . . . . . . .
Whose I's and Me's are scattered in his talk,
Thick as the pebbles on a gravel walk."

Fifty years of railway life, passed in the service of various companies,
large and small, in England, Scotland and Ireland, in divers' capacities,
from junior clerk to general manager, and ultimately to the ease and
dignity of director, if faithfully presented, may perhaps, in spite of
all drawbacks, be not entirely devoid of interest.




CHAPTER II.
BOYHOOD