THE BANQUET HALL.

This was the largest company that has ever gathered at an Association banquet, upwards of 300 being seated at three tables, which ran parallel the entire length of the dining hall.

The floral display was one of unusual magnificence, the tables, window sills and chandeliers, and every available spot, being profusely adorned with native flowers and rare exotics.

Several artistic floral designs, suggestive of the street-railway business were displayed on the central table, and elicited much comment, while the ladies were thoughtfully remembered with corsage bouquets.

The menu card was an elaborate affair, on successive pages of which, shadow pictures were displayed of the Monongahela House, the Allegheny County Court House, Carnegie Hall, and the retiring President, Mr. Henry M. Watson. The title page of the menu appears on the page of the report opposite this description, and the illustration on the last page appears immediately preceding the contents of the report.

Thanks were offered by Rt. Rev. Cortlandt Whitehead; and thereupon the assembled guests, to the strains of orchestral music, gave interested attention to the following

MENU.

OYSTERS.

BLUE POINTS ON DEEP Shell.

Sherry.

Sauterne.

CONSOMMÉ IN CUPS.

SOUP.

CANAPEE A LA RUSSE.

RELISHES.

CELERY, OLIVES, SALTED ALMONDS, PICKLES, CHOW CHOW.

FISH.

DEVILED LOBSTER, FARCY.

POм. DOLPHIN. CUCUMBERS.

ENTREE.

Claret.

DIAMOND BACK TERRAPIN EN CAISSE.
COMPÔT OF REED BIRDS, Belmont.

Champagne.

Burgundy.

Cognac.

ROMAN PUNCH.

ROAST.

YOUNG TURKEY, CHESTNUT STUFFING, CRANBERRY SAUCE.
CAULIFLOWER AU GRATIN, JULIENNE POTATOES.

Chartreuse.

REMARKS OF THE RETIRING PRESIDENT, MR. HENRY M.

WATSON.

At the close of the dinner the retiring President, Mr. Henry M. Watson, acting as master of ceremonies, called the company to order, and, before introducing the speakers, remarked as follows:

Ladies and Gentlemen :-The toastmaster at a banquet occupies about the same position as the motorman on one of our electric cars. All that is expected of him is to give the handle a gentle twist now and then and watch for stops. The generators at the power-house and the motors under the car do all the work. One of the rules for the government of the motor men on the Buffalo electric lines is: "Keep your eyes and ears open and your mouth shut. Talk as little as possible while on duty." With so many eloquent speakers in this company, I can do no better than apply this rule to myself.

I now have the pleasure of introducing to you His Honor, Mayor H. I. Gourley, of Pittsburg, who will now address you. [Applause.]

ADDRESS OF WELCOME BY MAYOR H. I. GOURLEY.

We are

MR. GOURLEY: Ladies and Gentlemen:-We bid you welcome. pleased to have you meet in our city. We want you to see what we have, and we want to show you what Pittsburg is. We throw our gates wide open and bid you enter. The city is yours while you stay. We give you peaceable possession; we grant you an unconditional surrender. Whatever you see is yours;

just take it. If you want anything you don't see, just tell us what it is, and if we don't have it in stock, we'll make it for you.

If, in your perambulations, you observe "No Admittance" over the entrance to any of our great industries, pay no attention to it; walk right in, such notice has no reference to you.

If you lose your way, or become weary, in the streets of our city, a vehicle, with suitable attendants, will be supplied free to convey you to a place where you can lie down and rest.

Should you wish to visit our jail, you will find an efficient and accommodating official in charge, who will be ready at all times to open the gate and let you in, with the express understanding, however, that you leave your saws on the outside. [Laughter.]

In a word, we want to contribute in every possible way to your comfort and enjoyment, so that when you return to your own homes, which, after all, are the sweetest and happiest spots on earth, you will entertain pleasant recollections of the kindness and hospitality of the Pittsburg people. You are not strangers

in a strange land.

We are all citizens of a common country of which Pittsburg

constitutes an important part.

These clouds of smoke which you see resting over our city by day and these tongues of fire which you see reaching upward by night, are the unmistakable evidences of the life, toil and activity of an industrious, prosperous and happy people. From a village of 1,500 at the beginning of the present century, Pittsburg has grown to a city of 250,000, and if we include Allegheny and the manufacturing and residential suburbs, which are really a part of our city, we have a population of almost 500,000.

Our marvellous industries aggregating almost 1,400 establishments in all, representing more than $125,000,000, giving employment to 90,000 workmen of all kinds, and producing annually to the value of more than $150,000,000, have not only made our city the manufacturing centre of a great nation, but have made its name familiar as a household word wherever the products of our industry, skill and labor have found a market throughout the civilized world. Here you witness the splendid achievements of enterprise and toil. Here, in these great industries, by the fire and the furnace, in the daytime and at night, you see exemplified to the fullest extent that divine decree issued when the human race began: "In the sweat of his face man shall eat his bread." Upon these varied and multiplied industries the prosperity of our city rests.

They have nurtured its wondrous growth in the past, and they justify the sanguine hope that the future will bring superadded increase.

I might speak of our public schools-the best in the world-our public buildings, our commercial houses, our banking institutions, our magnificent parks, destined to be things of beauty in the days to come, and, last of all, our splendid system of cable and electric roads, which have brought the extremes of our city together, and made our beautiful suburbs accessible to all, but time will not permit.

The occupation of the poor car horse has almost entirely gone. He has been forced to seek other spheres of usefulness and toil. Perhaps he has become an agriculturist, or, it may be, the motive power of the laborious cart; but, whatever his employment, I have no doubt were we able to comprehend his musings, we would often find him, in his restful hours, sadly contemplating the marvellous changes a few brief years have wrought. If he dreams, methinks he will sometimes in his restless sleep hear the tinkling bell which once made music to his ear, and thus live over again, in imagery, the busy, toilsome days when weary and footsore he tramped our hard, uneven streets and faithfully dragged his heavy load.

If there is anywhere in the mysterious beyond a happy pasture ground for the noblest of God's dumb animals, I verily believe that the patient, suffering and faithful service of the abused car horse will secure him an abundant entrance thereinto. In the meantime we bid an affectionate farewell to his services, and gladly welcome the power which the genius of man has harnessed for our use.

Just sixty years ago the first horse car for use in the streets of any city was built in the United States. Street-railways are, therefore, not only a growth of the nineteenth century, but they are an American institution. Of the electric and cable motors I have neither the mechanical nor scientific knowledge to

speak intelligently. On these complex subjects I am compelled to observe a discreet silence.

In the world's younger days intelligence was conveyed by crude methods. Of old, watchmen stood on the heights and cried aloud; trumpeters blew a blast from hill to hill; or legionaries, with elevated flags or spears, sent tidings afar. "Swift as a post" was not an inappropriate simile even in primeval days. Egypt's learned priesthood knew how to avail themselves of mysterious vocal tubes; the monarchs of Mexico and Peru maintained a corps of runners, who bore dispatches to the farthest limits of their empires. Another generation conveyed their wishes in the flashes of mirrors, the pealing of bells, the thunder of cannon, or the flight of birds. Then came the mail coach, with its fleet officials and fleeter steeds. This in turn was superseded by the triumph of steam, the locomotive and the express train. Then came to light a new invention, before which the wildest dreams of romance became sober realities.

The electric telegraph, the grandest invention of the age, the triumph of an American citizen, excelled forever all other methods for the transmission of intelligence. It united the extremes of the world and secured the absolute unity of man.

Not more wonderful was the electric telegraph of less than half a century ago than are the inventions of later years for the further utilization of electric force; and when we remember the great achievements of the recent past, is it not within the range of human possibilities that before the twentieth century shall have fully dawned upon the earth electricity shall constitute the mighty power which shall, on land and on sea, move the commerce of the world?

What have the Americans done,” said a celebrated English writer seventy years ago, "during their forty years of independence for science, for invention, for the arts, for literature, or even for the statesmanlike studies of politics or political economy? Where are their Foxes, their Burkes, their Watts, their Davys, their Scotts, their Byrons, their Kembles, their Keans, or their parallels to the hundred other names that have spread themselves over the world from our little island in the course of the last thirty years, and blessed or delighted mankind by their works, inventions or examples? In the four quarters of the globe, who reads an American book, or goes to an American play, or looks at an American picture or statue? What does the world owe to American physicians or surgeons? What new substances have their chemists discovered? What new constellations have been discovered by American telescopes? What new inventions have they given to the world? Who drinks from American glasses, or eats from American plates? Who wears American coats, or sleeps in American blankets?"

Sydney Smith died too soon. If he could revisit the earth to-night, we would introduce him to the wizard of Menlo Park. We would show him a whole galaxy of American names-names of men, some dead, some living, whose illustrious achievements in war, in statesmanship, in literature, in science, in art, in mechanics, in invention, have contributed to the imperishable glory of the age, and added undying lustre to the American name. In the majestic march of progress which is leading the world up to a higher elevation, where the rising sun of a brighter and happier future shall illume the faces of all men,