He was a kind of god, to whom they all bowed down; and to be addressed or chaffed by him was an honor to be reported to friends, and borne home with self-gratulations to wives and children.
The General, of course, had moments of superlative happiness.

He never had enjoyed anything more than he enjoyed his railroad.

His notoriety with the common people along the line--the idea which they cherished that he could do anything he wished to do; that he had only to lift his hand to win gold to himself or to bear it to them--these were pleasant in themselves; but to have their obeisance witnessed by his city friends and associates, while they discussed his champagne and boned turkey from the abounding hampers which always furnished "the President's car"-- this was the crown of his pleasure.

He had a pleasure, too, in business.

He never had enough to do, and the railroad which would have loaded down an ordinary man with an ordinary conscience, was only a pleasant diversion to him.