He became the school-master of the community, and in course of time, Thomas A. Scott was one of his brightest but most troublesome scholars.
In the process of this evolution, I became a messenger boy and student of telegraphy in the office of Colonel Thos. A. Scott, who was then superintendent of railways at Pittsburgh.
In the same office, as a private clerk and telegrapher, was Mr. Andrew Carnegie, now widely known as a capitalist.
"Andy," as this distinguished philanthropist was then familiarly known, and myself were "boys together," and the reader is permitted to refer to him for--as he recently assured me, in his laughing and hearty manner--that he would give me a good endorsement, as one of his wild boys.
Under Mr. Andrew Carnegie's instruction I soon became a proficient operator, and when but a boy very easily read a telegraph instrument by sound, which in those days was considered an extraordinary acquirement. Through Mr. Scott's kindly interest in myself, I had been promoted rapidly in railway work, and before leaving Pittsburgh was chief or division operator. This gave me very large responsibilities, for a boy of my age, as the road then had but one track, and close watch had to be kept of the various trains moving in the same or opposite directions. It became a habit of Colonel Scott, on receiving news of any accident to a train or bridge along the road, to have an engine fired up and be off at once, with me along provided with a pocket instrument and a little coil of copper wire. It seems now to me that such trips usually began at night.
Arrived at the place of wreck, I would at once shin up a telegraph pole, get the wire down, cut it, and establish a "field station" at once, the nearest rail fence and a convenient bowlder furnishing desk and office seat, where I worked while Colonel Scott remained in charge of the work. He was thus at once put in direct communication with every train and station on the road, and in as full personal control as if in his comfortable Pittsburgh office. Such work perfected me in field-telegraphing. At times, when a burned or broken bridge or a wrecked train delayed traffic, trains would accumulate at the point, and the noises of escaping steam from the engines, the progressing work, and the babel of voices about me, made it utterly impossible to hear any sound from my little magnet, or pocket instrument. I then discovered, by sheer necessity, that I could read the messages coming, by watching the movement of the armature of the magnet. The vibrations of a telegraph armature are so slight as to be scarcely perceptible to the naked eye, yet a break, or the separating of the points of contact, are necessary to make the proper signals. Further experiences developed the phenomena that when sound and sight failed I could read still by the sense of feeling, by holding my finger-tips gently against the armature and noting its pulsations. I thus became by practice not only proficient, but expert in telegraphy. Telegraphers know, though the general public may not, that messages can be sent by touching together the ends of a cut telegraph wire, and can be received by holding the ends to the tongue. My tongue, however, has always been too sensitive to take that kind of "subtle fluid."