Reminiscence;

              34 HASKINS & SELLS May
Reminiscence
By GEORGE WILKINSON, C. P. A.
(Now and for many years a leader in accountancy affairs in this country)
WE L L do I remember a cold, rainy
Sunday evening when I met Mr.
Haskins by previous appointment at the
old Queen's Hotel in Manchester. It was
after eight; the streets were unusually
dark, as it was Sunday and the shop lights
were out. The rain pelted down on the
glass front of the hansom cab as it splashed
along Oxford Street and Portland Street
on the way to the Queen's Hotel. Mr.
Haskins had arrived that afternoon from
London, and that Sunday evening, late
in September, 1902, was the only time he
could give me to talk over my plans for
federating the several societies of public
accountants organized under state laws.
As the hansom clattered over the wet
Belgian blocks of Portland Street, and the
rain played a ceaseless tattoo on the can­vas-
covered cab, I wondered what sort of a
reception the Big Fellow would give to the
idea. Lybrand and the Pennsylvania As­sociation,
Max Teichman and the Mary­land
fellows, Joe Goodloe and the Ohio
bunch, Harvey Chase and the Bostonese,
and all the other state society presidents
had endorsed the plan of the Illinois Asso­ciation,
but what would the Heap-Big-
Chief say to me?
Well I knew that what Charles Waldo
Haskins would say would go with the
biggest society of them all. It was with
some trepidation then that I jogged along
to the promised interview. I had only
met Mr. Haskins once or twice. I won­dered
whether he really would remember
me.
"Yes, sir, Mr. 'Askins is h'expecting you,
sir," said the lift-boy. "Step in, sir, and
I'll run you hup."
A hearty welcome, a warm hand-shake,
and a cheery coal fire awaited me in the
Big Chief's sitting room.
"Boy, take the gentleman's coat and
umbrella. Sit down, Wilkinson. Rotten
weather. Good of you to come down here
tonight. Am tied up with appointments
tomorrow. Must get back to London on
the night train. You mentioned in your
letter that you were over here to attend a
Golden Wedding anniversary. How are
the old folks?" Thus the Big Chief put
an end to formality.
Did he want to read over the tentative
draft of the by-laws of the federation?
He did not! Did he want to know what
the other society presidents had said about
it? He did not!
"Never mind the details, Wilkinson; tell
me what you want to do." I told him.
It didn't take long to outline to a man
whose vision was so clear the plan which
the Illinois Association had brought for­ward
to federate in one national body the
several societies of public accountants in
the United States. The short recital over,
the answer came promptly: "Bully scheme,
Wilkinson, let's do it. New York will come
in." And so it was settled. What had
looked so doubtful in the prospect seemed
so easy in the fulfilment. The Big Chief's
enthusiasm for the plan was one of the
happiest memories of my visit to England.
The rain had ceased and the cool washed
air, through the open window of the cab,
tasted good, as the little brown horse
jogged briskly along the well-paved street
on the three-mile drive to my parents'
home. All doubt about the federation
going through was ended.