Miller was the pioneer of our iron
manufacturing projects. We were all indebted to Tom, who still lives
(July 20, 1911) and sheds upon us the sweetness and light of a most
lovable nature, a friend who grows more precious as the years roll by.
He has softened by age, and even his outbursts against theology as
antagonistic to true religion are in his fine old age much less
alarming. We are all prone to grow philosophic in age, and perhaps
this is well. [In re-reading this--July 19, 1912--in our retreat upon
the high moors at Aultnagar, I drop a tear for my bosom friend, dear
Tom Miller, who died in Pittsburgh last winter. Mrs. Carnegie and I
attended his funeral. Henceforth life lacks something, lacks much--my
first partner in early years, my dearest friend in old age. May I go
where he is, wherever that may be.]
Andrew Kloman had a small steel-hammer in Allegheny City. As a
superintendent of the Pennsylvania Railroad I had found that he made
the best axles. He was a great mechanic--one who had discovered, what
was then unknown in Pittsburgh, that whatever was worth doing with
machinery was worth doing well. His German mind made him thorough.
What he constructed cost enormously, but when once started it did the
work it was intended to do from year's end to year's end.
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