THE LIBRARY
OF
THE UNIVERSITY
OF CALIFORNIA
LOS ANGELES
GIFT OF
David Freedraan
A-
ROMANCE
AND
HUMOR OF THE RAIL.
A BOOK FOR
RAILWAY MEN AND TRAVELLERS,
REPRESENTING
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAILROAD,
IN
<8>fccrg g*partmtnt of i\t $ailfoag Sbttbiu,
WITH
SKETCHES AND RHYMES OF ROMANCE,
AND
NUMEROUS ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS.
EDITED BY
STEPHE SMITH.
NEW YORK:
G. W. Carleton &? Co., Publishers.
LONDON: S. LOW, SON & CO.
M.DCCC.LXXIII.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by
G. W. CARLETON & CO.,
In die Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.
Stereotyped at the
women's printing house,
56, 58 and 60 Park Street,
New York.
URL
TO
Hon. FRANCIS G LT N ,
FORMERLY
UNITED STATES OONWL TO VENICE,
AND LATE
GENERAL PASSENGER AGENT
OF THB
UNION PACIFIC RAI LWAY,
THIS BOOK IS
gnsrribrb, as an (Earnest Crilmte of gltspttt,
TO A
Warm J^riend
AND
COURTEOUS GENTLEMAN.
845993
CONTENTS.
APTKR PACK
I. Dedication ;
II. Preface; or, Way-bill 9
III. Fogyville and the Branch 11
IV. The Poetry of the Rail 23
V. Everyday Life on the Rail Engineers, Firemen,
etc. Rhymes, etc 28
VI. Guelden's Last Drink An Engineer's Confession 62
VII. The Maniac's Ride An Engineer's Story . .69
VIII. Everyday Life on the Rail Among the Passengers,
Conductors, Baggage-men, etc. Rhymes,
etc 80
IX. No One to Blame A Poem .... 128
X. The Railway Postal Service .... 130
XI. The Night Express A Station-agent's Rhyme . 134
XII. On the Night Train Prose Sketch . . .136
XIII The Little Cripple A Poem . . . .141
XIV. Everyday Life on the Rail Among the Freight-
men, Conductors, and Brakemen Rhymes,
etc 143
XV. Dead And no Name A Poem . . . .161
XVI "How to Detect Them" "On Commission" 165
XVII. Everyday Life on the Rail Among the Railway
Telegraphists, etc 173
vni CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
XVIII. "Come Home!" A Telegraphist's Story . . 190-^
XIX. The Phantom Conductor A Passenger's Story . 200
XX. The Railway at Home and Abroad, etc . . 213
XXI. The Rear Car A Commercial Traveller's Story . 226
XXII. The Snow Blockade Travellers Snowed-in They
grunt, groan, and guzzle . . . .231
XXIII. The Colossus of Roads A Rhyme . . .251
XXIV. Five Minutes Behind A Switchman's Story . 254 '
XXV. Up and Down the Rail By an Office-man . . 269
XXVI. A Railway Detective's Confession . . . 276
XXVII. The Founder of the Railway System A Biographi-
cal Sketch 279
XXVIII. Anecdotes and Incidents of the Rail . . . 2S4
XXIX. The Deaf Cove A Detective's Story. . .323
XXX. The Hotel Clerk of the Period A Confidential
Note to Marmaduke Macomber, of the St.
James 339
PREFACE.
ii.
WAY-BILL.
USTOM has decided that no book can start
safely upon its travels without a learned intro-
duction. No experienced Engineer will " pull
out" without first sounding his bell, nor will a prudent
Conductor leave the depot without the final "all
aboard." To this limit would the author confine his
Preface. Having made up his train, and received his
orders, he has only to give the signal, join his passen-
gers, keep a "wild eye," and leave the rest with Provi-
dence. If there should be a defective axle, a flaw in a
wheel, or an imperfect box, he must endure the anxiety
and suspense, from which the conscientious Conductor
is never free, and be ready for the reproach and abuse
which is his constant portion.
The author presents this little volume to the Railroad
public, believing that it will be of interest to employes
IO PREFACE.
in every department of the service. It is not designed
as a book of horrors, hairbreadth escapes, or impossible
adventures ; nor does it attempt to recount the fearful
accidents and disasters which go to swell the record of
every railroad year. Its mission is to entertain, rather
than to instruct ; to represent Everyday Life on the Rail
as the author has found it. To the Traveller, it presents
scenes and incidents which may serve to recall his own
experiences.
A few of the- sketches, rhymes, and incidents, the au-
thor has already given to the public in newspaper corre-
spondence from different parts of this and other coun-
tries ; but one never loses his relish for a palatable dish
by having it twice served. Prepared in intervals of ac-
tive duty upon the Daily Press, it makes no claim to lit-
erary merit or elaborate polish. If it shall present the
Railway employe to a prejudiced Public in a more fa-
vorable light, or contribute in the slightest degree to the
pleasure of the Railway Traveller, the author's object
will have been fully attained.
He feels honored in being permitted to dedicate his
work to the successor of W. D. Howells and " Ik. Mar-
vel " at the U. S. Consulate of Venice. A man of let-
ters, an experienced Traveller, and a worthy type of that
refined element which has elevated the Railway business
in this country, his name deserves to be recorded on a
worthier page. S. S.
Smithville, Seft. i, 187a.
Ill
FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH.
Fogyville, the last Anti-Railway Corporation Its prominent Char-
acters Threatened Advance of the Branch Opposition in the
Interest of the Stage Line 'Squire Jones The Man who
couldn't see it ! How it became visible at last !
|EFORE introducing the reader to the Men of
the Road, and the personal experiences that go
to make up Everyday Life on the Rail, the au-
thor begs permission to present the town of
Fogyville, the last respectable village that opposed the
advance of the inevitable Railway.
Without describing its exact location, it will suffice to
say, that it is situated in a thriving State, about forty
miles distant from the metropolis in which I resided, and
at the time of my frequent visits, it was in the hands of
our dear old Stage-coach friends that we all loved so well.
I liked the town because it was somewhat faded ; in an
undecided state of transition ; uncertain whether to ac-
cept the insidious advances of the proposed branch from
a remote main line of railway in a friendly spirit, or si-
multaneously close its shutters and emigrate West in a
I2 FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH.
compact body, to grow up with the place. It was attract-
ive to me, because it was a sulky coaching chrysalis, de-
termined not to develop into the railway butterfly without
a severe struggle. It was a pleasure to take my pipe
into the public room of the leading hotel of the place, and
hear the proprietor of the " National Stage Line," hotel-
keepers, liverymen, and other oracles converse upon the
probability of the railway ever reaching Fogyville, and
the injurious effects which it would have upon trade, if
the infernal thing ever came so far. I could ask for noth-
ing more refreshing than a discourse from such men upon
the destiny of railway enterprise, its operation upon the
country at large, and its final operation upon Fogyville
itself. It was amusing, for instance, to see Thompson
who owned three buggies, one gig, and a hearse driven
almost mad at times, when some commercial traveller
would arrive with fresh and strengthening rumors of the
advancing iron road. And again, when inflated with an
extra quantity of local beverages, he would draw himself
up to his full height, expand to more than his full breadth,
and resolve to oppose, single-handed, if need be, the tide
of the threatened improvement. One portly gentleman,
known as 'Squire Jones, gravely shook his head and ex-
pressed a doubt whether, with all his capital, Thompson
was equal to the task. Others I remember the brave
fellows well expressed the hope that Fogyville would
some day become a Railroad Station, but the dismal
sentiment was soon crushed by a storm of doubts and
misgivings.
I went to Fogyville every season to angle for trout.
The town boasted a trout stream that, as a true sports-
man, I would not exchange to-day for the best-paying
railroad in this broad land. I am not therefore bound to
FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH.
13
give the true name of my retreat, nor does it concern the
reader whether it lies at the East or the West. To reach
this retreat in those days, it required a six hours' journey
and an outlay of between five and ten dollars. I can
run out now in less than two hours, at almost any period of
the day, for the matter of a dollar and a half. It has not
the same air of seclusion now that it wore in the old
staging days ; and sometimes, as I lie upon the sloping
grass watching my float, I fancy I can see the smoke cf
the metropolis, rising and floating above the trees, and
hear the roar cf the humming city life. In the evening I
return to the little white hotel, take a fresh pipe, and lis-
ten to the conversation of the wise men of the village.
When I first went there, Fogyville was in the full pride,
profit, and glory of the old Stage-coaching days. From
ten to fifteen highly painted, well-horsed rolling stages
passed through from an early hour in the morning until
a late hour of the night. The principal hotel was then
a sight to see. Horses standing outside in the road;
porters rushing to and fro with baggage ; hostlers busy
with bright and complicated harness ; passengers, both
male and female, alighting from the vehicles, assisted by
obliging drivers, the proprietor himself, or mine host of
the "-Union Hotel." Buxom landlady and neat chamber-
maids standing at the doors, under the broad whitewashed
porch, ready to welcome the guests.
The commercial traveller of those days was a stead)',
easy-going, time-taking, pioneer of trade, who drove his
own team, or rode his own horse. Not the bustling,
high-pressure, watch-consulting, New York or Chicago
maniac who is left to us now. He was known as an
"Agent," with no authority beyond the task that had
been given him to do, and he gloried in the appellation,
14 FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH.
without having the ambition to be regarded as a com-
mercial gentleman. To obtain the favor of a choice seat
in .the coach, or indeed a seat of any kind, was an affair
of many days' booking and quite a fee in silver or gold.
The keepers of toll-gates were ready, obedient, and re-
spectful ; hostlers at roadside houses, where we " changed
horses," were filled with admiration approaching venera-
tion. It was the height of their ambition, you see, to be
called upon some day to fill a position of such imposing
and heavy responsibility as that of a driver of a four-horse
coach over a first-class road. Some such conversation
as the following was frequently heard between the two
men who led the relieved steeds up the yard :
" Tom knows a thing or two about hosses, eh, Bill ? "
"As well as any a man on the road, Jack."
" There ain't the driver on the road as can git over
him when he's a-mind."
" Not exactly, Jack."
Sometimes, if a driver happened to be new, or a little
verdant and. ill liberal, the remarks were not so full of ad-
miration.
" Why, he's no more use for four on 'em, Bill, than my
little finger."
"No more he ain't, Jack. I'll bring a boy as will lick
him any day, with his own team on his own run."
" Ony boy, ony infant, Jack."
This was about the status of things when I first began-
to visit my country town. At this period the first rumors
of a great railway enterprise began to dawn upon the
world, and, after a decent interval, upon the town of Fogy-
ville. It is not my purpose to call up the barber of this
village ; the keeper of the corner grocery who dealt out
fresh meat twice a week ; the dealer in dry -goods and
FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH, ^
queen's-ware, and several important agriculturists, and the
usual nightly visitors of a country hotel, in order to ridi-
cule their opinions upon what was at that time the in
comprehensible wonder of the age. They spoke accord-
ing to their lights, and if these were not brilliant, they had
many m authority whose intellects ought to have been
sharpened by early training and intercourse with the
world, to keep them in arguments for their nightly gather-
ings. The local papers of my country town copied
everything that was launched in type in the metropolis
against the new gigantic scheme, and every citizen wan-
dered about armed with these silent but formidable
weapons. c
Mr. Ross-Major Ross I believe they called him-the
proprietor of the National Stage Line," was the central
hgure in our little arena of tobacco-smoke and discussion.
He owned nearly all the vehicles and horses running to
and from my country town, as well as the necessary ar-
rangement for traffic on the National road. A tall, pow-
erful man with a red face, a loud voice, and a sp endid
capaat y for the leading IocaI beverage- ^ ^
created his present position-he had been born in it
Ihe frequenters of my country hotel gave the Major
credit for possessing a vast fund of wisdom, but he kept
i to himself. During the discussions on the great railway
question I never heard him speak but a few words I
record his favorite and oracular remarks here, because
" Well T SmC , e bCen dlSt rted bt0 a VU] ^ 1* .
Well, it may be very good, but I can't see it " Then
after a little reflection, he would add, -No, I can't see
In this way a few years rolled by, and I still paid my
regular summer visits to my country town. The barber.
1 6 FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH.
whom I had indoctrinated with my views upon railways,
had died with opinions far in advance of his village and
his age. He left his business to an only son, with these
memorable words: "Joseph, my son, a great movement
is a-comin', keep an eye on't ! "
Major Ross still held fast to his coaches of the " Nation-
al Line," in the face of several tempting offers. He drank,
if anything, a little more of the local beverage, and could
not see it. In another year the main line approached near-
er, and as I said at the start, the enterprising directors
had mapped out a branch to my country town. It was
at this time that I saw one of the early surveyors seized
by the indignant villagers and ducked in a horse-pond,
but I dared not interfere.
There was much excitement and an unusually strong
muster at the hotel that evening, with a flattering disposi-
tion to rally around Major Ross as the representative of
the coaching interest. Saluting the sympathy expressed
or implied, with a stage bow, the Major refreshed himself
with another draught of the local beverage, and merely
remarked that he couldn't see it. What he thought he
would not say, but he rested his faith, I think, with other
interested townspeople, upon 'Squire Jones, to turn back
the advancing tide of railway encroachment. This gen-
tleman was the largest land proprietor in the whole
county. He indulged in profanity occasionally, patron-
ized horse-races, got a little groggy every night, and
visited the theatre on State occasions in the metropolis.
He owned extensive acres and many farms. No branch
line could possibly reach my country town, unless it
passed for several miles through the property of the popu-
lar 'Squire. The faith of the townspeople in the 'Squire's
anti- railway sentiments was very great. The silent
FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH. \j
Major Ross shared in the general feeling. He knew, in-
deed everybody knew, that the 'Squire's favorite recrea-
tion was to meet Major Ross' " Lightning Express coach "
and relieve the driver for a ten-mile dash, handling the
ribbons with a grace and skill, that the drivers professed
to believe was the height of perfection. Knowing
this, no one could hesitate about the nature and extent of
the 'Squire's opposition to the proposed branch railway.
Another period of a few years. 'Squire Jones did op-
pose the railway, and prevented the extension of the
branch to my country town. A majority of the inhabi-
tants believed that principle was at the bottom of this.
Some of us thought that it was because the worthy gen-
tleman had not been offered his price. Railway pioneers
were very liberal in those days, but ancient home-places
and family acres were not to be cut up to encourage
rapid communication, like a common, plebeian farm.
The 'Squire, therefore, remained shrewdly passive.
In the meantime, the road came on apace. It had
reached a point about five miles distant from my country
town. At this point the directors also assumed a passive
position. This had an injurious effect upon the National
Line, still Major Ross couldn't see it. Two hours' walk,
or one hour's drive, brought the traveller to the station,
and two hours more by rail, with a trifling fee, carried
him to the metropolis. For a time the people of Fogy-
ville looked shyly upon this new and cheap mode of con-
veyance. Exaggerated stories of dangers to be feared,
and fearful accidents that had already occurred, began to
circulate. I regret that I am compelled to believe that
these horrors were peddled about through my country
town in that gentleman's interest He couldn't see it,
it is true, but he had been wise enough to reduce his
1 8 FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH.
fares, to meet the new competition. One or two advent-
urous spirits were finally induced to try the experiment
of a railway journey to the metropolis. They returned
uninjured, with a favorable report of the sensations they
had experienced. Others followed, and the railroad rose
steadily in popularity, in proportion as the novelty and
the fear of danger wore off.
Then came the severest trial to Major Ross. His
own family began to turn against him. One morning
the sad intelligence reached him, that his nephew on the
wife's side, had started off without the knowledge of his
parents, to make his first trip upon the railway. The
mother came around with tears to explain and apologize
to Mrs. Ross. This excellent lady in her turn conveyed
the apologies and explanations to her solemn husband.
He did not say much, he never did ; but it was plain that
he felt the terrible affliction. His passengers dropped
off, day by day, his baggage-carrying was entirely gone ;
his daily consumption of the leading local beverage in-
creased, and he was again induced by the advice of
friends to reduce his fares. Major Ross, proprietor of
the " National Line," began to see it !
I continued my trips to Fogyville, clinging with the
tenacity of a first-love to the old " National Line."
There were numerous melancholy changes for the worse.
The horses were old, ill-fed, and slow. The toll-keepers
were less admiring and respectful. Gradually the little
hotels on the line began to close their shutters. This
compelled an alteration in the arrangements for changing
horses. The drives were made longer, and the relief-
horses were brought to us from wretched way-side barns.
The proud hostlers had given way to old men in dirty,
fluttering blouses, who seemed as much in need of food
FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH. Jg
and rest as the worn-out horses. Things in the hotel
had also vastly changed. It was still neat and clean, but
lacked bustle, customers, and life. Death, bankruptcy,
and emigration had thinned the company in the public
room, but the same engrossing topic was discussed with the
same earnestness, but with less obstinacy, and a little
more knowledge and experience, than before. Many
who had doubted with energy whether they would ever
see a railroad within a hundred miles of Fogyville, now
appealed to me to know if they had ever had the slight-
est misgivings about the ultimate establishment and de-
velopment of a railway enterprise. "Major Ross,"
said they, confidentially, " had not seen it, could not see
it now, but they had seen it all along."
Then came the sudden death of 'Squire Jones. It oc-
curred just as he was on the point of acceding to the
renewed offers of the railway directors, and allowing the
road to come up to the town.
Major Ross, after renewed draughts of the leading
local beverage, declared the death of 'Squire Jones a
splendid stroke of Providence. The eyes connected
with the decaying, coaching interest were now turned
with anxiety to young Jones, the 'Squire's son and heir.
The anti-railway interest had its doubts about the young
man, and they were well-founded. Before the remains
of the late lamented 'Squire Jones were decently cov-
ered, the pickaxes of the railway navigators were rooting
up the turf of his sacred acres. Major Ross could not
quite see it yet !
Another period passed by, and we arrived at last within
a day of the opening of the railway from my country
town to the metropolis. In the afternoon of the previous
day I took my seat upon the box of the " Lightning
20 FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH.
Express," the last coach of the "National Line." I
desired to honor with my patronage the last journey it
was intended to make.
Major Ross mounted by my side to take the reins ; he
had been his own coachman for many weary weeks. It
was no ordinary journey. It was a funeral of a four-
horse coach, performed by its ruined but obstinate pro-
prietor. As we moved slowly out of Fogyville, persons
stood looking at us with various expressions of triumph,
pity, and contempt. Major Ross was well stimulated
with the leading local beverage at starting, and refreshed
himself at every opportunity. The harness was old, and
Major Ross had frequently to get down to make repairs.
We arrived in the metropolis three hours behind time.
We had but two inside passengers, a pudding-faced boy
and a dog. These were received at our journey's end by
eight females of various ages, sizes, and shapes. They
made some cruel remarks to Major Ross about the un-
certainty of stage travelling compared with the railway,
and I retired, just as symptoms broke out of a serious
quarrel. I did not see or hear anything of Major Ross
for some years. '
I still go down to fish in the outskirts of my country
town. It is much altered, and has grown into a thriving,
prosperous place. I get down at a small, clean, Gothic
station-house, and give my check to the agent, who is
baggage-man as well. I recognize in him an old coach-
ing hanger-on, who has gone over to the enemy. I take
a seat in the short, thick railway omnibus, and jolt up
to my old hotel. One day, when I arrived as usual, I
noticed a peculiar expression in the face of this agent
As he took my check, he said to me confidentially :
" He's come back, sir ! "
FOGYVILLE AND THE BRANCH.
21
"Who, Dick?" I asked.
"Mister Ross!"
As he said this, he pointed to the driver's seat of the
omnibus, and glancing up, I saw the Major, looking
much older, with the reins in his hand.
" He can see it now, sir," said the agent, quietly.
" Yes," I replied, " he can see it now, Dick : so can we
aU."
IV.
THE POETRY OF THE RAIL.
Voices of Steam ' ' Darn your Nonsense ! ' 'The Wine-colored Gen-
tleman A Corpulent Man's Idea of the Poetry of the Rail A
Lady's Idea The Commercial Traveller's Idea, etc., etc.
E used to hear Poetry sing in the hedges,
among flowers, and on the bosom of rippling
streams. Now it hisses in the boilers of Num.
. ber Five, Erie Road. It is audible in that
demon scream terrible as the shriek of death to tardy
travellers, strolling animals, blundering old men, and
rusty switches. Unconsciously seizing an angry fireman's
hand at Turner's Junction, I exclaim
"Voices of Steam ! Ye are many-tongued voices of a
coming age, a golden one, perhaps ; maybe one dyed all
crimson with bl "
" Darn your nonsense ! " broke in the genius of Num-
ber Five, "here's the one twenty-five starting" and I
went for my ticket. This secured, I took a seat in a
first-class coach.
A wine-colored gentleman sat in front of me with a
bow-window stomach. He was wrapped as if for a
THE POETRY OF THE RAIL.
23
journey to the north pole, with an apoplectic voice that
forbade all conversation. After a treaty of legs, I fell to
musing on poetry by-gone and present. " You may talk
as you like," I said to myself, " I believe it is all here,
just as much as ever it was."
" Listen ! friend of the redundant stomach ! "
" Oh ! curse the noise; I want to go to sleep. Here's
the Tribune, wonderful article on the Mexican War
Great man, Polk splendid head of hair ! "
" Snore, as thou wert wont to snore, O friend of the
port-wine countenance ; but know that that sound of the
engine is like the champ and trample of a thousand
horse. It might be Tamerlane riding to conquest, or
Alaric thundering at the gates of Rome. Look out,
friend of the exuberant bowels, and tell me what you
see ! "
" A miserable, ugly country, and four iron rails, like
black lines ruled in my ledger."
" This, my friend, is the vision of the son of faith. We
are gliding on golden rails, that the sunset shines on,
and are just about to thread an arch. As we lean back,
great clouds of smoke roll around us and grow crimson
in the sunlight, and it seems as if we were in the car of
the Indian Mythology, gliding away to Paradise."
My friend here presented his flask, with the remark,
" Stranger, I think you need another drink ! "
That is a corpulent man's idea of the poetry of the
road.
I leave him to apoplexy and the Tribune newspaper,
and move on to a seat nearer the engine. Away we go,
with a battling tramp, and whistle and whiz past aston-
ished laborers in green meadows ; past telegraph wires
upon which sit wry-necked sparrows. The smoke of the
24 THE POETRY OF THE RAIL.
engine flies like a white banner, rolling away, stooping
at last to join the white fog, that wingless sits and broods
about the damp autumn fields. We rush through the
dark caves of the tunnels through the barrenness of
high and bare embankments, with the force of a steam
catapult, or a huge case-shot that is never spent ; like a
battering-ram on a long race, for this steam-horse with
fire for blood never tires. Swift round curves, up low
hills swift by village church, farm-house and wood, over
the river, through fat and lean, rich and poor, meadow
and street for this mad horse never wearies, never
tires.
I try another car, containing what seems to be a less
aristocratic class. I find merriment here, and wayfaring
people who are less afraid to show their honest feelings.
They have more feeling, perhaps, and see more of the
poetry of the Road. Are they listening with rapt ears,
and gazing with steadfast eyes ? No ; a party with high
cheek-bones, red, hungry whiskers, and a Western accent,
is reading, " Dreadful railway accident near ; fifteen
lives lost ; list of killed and wounded." I look out and
wonder at the lightning fashion in which we rush into the
tunnel !
" This train going east, agent ? "
"No; goin' west, ma'am; there's the bell."
"Why didn't you say so before ? Oh, my bundle, give
me my bundle ! "
"Too late, marm ; next train west at 2.40; three
hours to wait. Ladies' waiting-room this way, marm."
That is a lady's ideal of railway poetry.
On we go again ; and presently the baggage-man, in
half-overalls, enters our car, and approaches the spruce-
looking gentleman in the seat adjoining my own.
THE POETRY OF THE RAIL. 2$
"Over a hundred pounds, sir; have to charge you
extra baggage on that box."
" Extra charges ! why, I've carried that box of samples
with a trunk check over every road in the country."
"See here; that's too thin; you hand over the extra
dollar, or I'll dump that box into the ditch."
That's the commercial traveller's idea of the poetry of
the Road.
" Damp seats, Lord help us ! dusty, too this a first-
class coach it's a stock car. Here, brakeman, do you
call this a coach ? Curse such a line give me the nar-
row-gauge ! Window won't go up ; d n the window
door won't shut; curse the door draught above my
head enough to drive a windmill. Here say what
does the company mean by such a draught? Can't
smoke here, eh ? Give me the old stage-coach, say I."
That is the old gentleman's ideal of the poetry of the
Road.
" Lord bless us, Betty ! such a hissing and squeaking
and clatter ! and that whistle like a devil's baby ! Lor*
sakes, how it went through my poor head. An' then
getting out at the wrong station to wait four hours for
the next train. Say, Betty, give me the old oxen and
wagon at home ! "
That is the rural lady's idea of the poetry of the Road.
"Ah, sir," said an old gentleman, roaring the words in
my ear, "ah, sir, I remember, when I was a boy, being
three days and nights on a journey that you do now in
four hours. Those were the times, sir, the happy times.
No hurry-scurry; no chopping up decent people with
trains ; no gambling in railway shares, with all the bully-
ing and bearing you hear of to-day ; no dear me such
jolting one can neither sit nor stand " and the sudden
8
2 6 THE POETRY OF THE RAIL.
stoppage actually threw the old gentleman into the lap
of a spinster near by.
"Sakes alive! Mercy on us! Conductor! brake-
man ! take him off; the villain is crushing a poor, inno-
cent female ! "
And this is the ideal of the poetry of the Road these
ancient people take to their homes.
They will not hear me, if I say I saw poetry in the
life of the engineer or fireman. On rough days, say,
when he cowers behind his screen, and looks out long
and steadily through the rain and storm. A divinity ?
Bless you, no ! No Diomed or Hector, but plain Mart
Mason, of Number Five, Erie Road. Every crimson
star that shines at stations is as familiar to him as the
shining taps his fireman keeps so bright and clean.
Every emerald fire, and white circle, and red globe, and
all the silent voices that speak from headquarters to the
brave men on the Road. When the great wind blows,
and the lightnings flash, he grasps that handle or throttle
there, and you know that power and courage and skill are
at the helm. Firmly he holds that helm on those noisy
nights, and drives his strong, swift steam-ship on its flam-
ing path, scattering the red-hot ashes of its wrath, as it
ploughs on and on. If the rain drives its liquid arrows at
him, while you survey the storm from a comfortable seat,
he only wipes his great spectacles, and looks out ahead.
Then he screws the engine up till it gives a shriek of
pain a long, startling scream, that wakes up the sleepers
in the next town, makes them mutter, only to turn again
to slumber.
Perhaps the sense of novelty and poetry has left rail-
roads forever, and the humble pen that attempts to re-
cord it now may have only its labor for its pains. The
THE POETRY OF THE RAIL. 27
sight of a train growing out of a cloud of smoke, the
terror of its march, and the battling of its rush, have
grown familiar now. The obedient readiness of a train
is now a thing of course. The propulsion of lightning,
the comet speed, the strange contrast of such spiritual
power, controlled by a soiled fellow in overalls Caliban
ruling Ariel is lost sight of now by the great busy world
that is so grossly sunk in its six per cents.
Would it not be better for us to do good, to be kindly
and open-hearted ; to see some poetry in life, and not call
the air blue fog, and the rose a vegetable? If that
railway whistle could have been interpreted to you by an
angel, you might have known that its meaning was as
prophetic and dreadful as the Judgment trumpet.
Wake up, then ! unlock your cellar, and send a dozen
of port to the brave engineer who risked his life to save the
train that was bearing you to wife and little ones. And
a substantial tribute to the brakeman, who leaped from
the train and turned the switch on that awful night in
September. Do something for the widow's son, while
the father lies a mangled corpse at the scene of the re-
cent accident. Above all, look reverently henceforth at
all railroad men, of whatever station and peace be with
you.
V.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
AMONG THE ENGINEERS AND FIREMEN.
A Much-abused Class At the Round House Engineers' Gossip
Anecdotes and Incidents Personal Adventures Romance and
Humor A Joke on Bristol Manning and the Deaf Man Carter
and the Collector A Narrow Escape "Me Pay Pilot, 'ven you
Pay Pig " Two Disciples of Munchausen Stedman's Black Cat
Mort Thompson Charlie Burlingame's Sermon "Dutch
Jake" and Princeton Bill Patty on the Pilot A Ride for Life
A Song A Female Fireman A Rhyme of the Rail The Dying
Engineer Flow Buxton got up Steam The English Engineer
The Locomotive An Acrostic.
CONFESS that I have long entertained an in-
dulgent feeling towards several classes of men
who are dealt hardly with by common report ;
these are hackmen, baggage-men, conductors
of street-cars, and railroad men generally. While I am
willing to admit that these fraternities contain their pro-
portion of black sheep, I am not aware of any peculiar
contagion attaching to their dinginess. I cannot believe
that the extra coat of soot so freely laid on by that ex-
travagant colorist Public Opinion can be justified by
appeal to any ordinary models. Few realize, perhaps,
the extent to which they think evil of good neighbors
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 29
and industrious public servants. Hackman 1006 oc-
casionally uses language which he regards as merely-
vigorous and forcible rhetoric or endeavors on strictly
commercial principles to enhance the price paid for his
exertions.
A railway conductor invites an impecunious passenger
to leave the car at a certain station, and learns with
horror that he has insulted a village alderman returning
from a metropolitan debauch. Or a brakeman refuses
a single gentleman admission to the ladies' car, and is
reported for rudeness to an embryo Congressman. An
engineer, running a "wild" engine out to some wreck,
refuses to take a brace of pedestrians into his cab, and
he is called up to answer the complaints of some agricul-
tural committee. Devotion to rules and instructions
brings these persons before their self-constituted enemies
in an unenviable light, and straightway all hackmen and
railway men are condemned.
I once attended a popular lecture upon temperance,
illustrated by numerous highly colored prints represent-
ing, or professing to represent, the stomachs of drunkards.
The theory appeared to be, that redness is the greatest
of all evils, and the stomachs depicted became redder
and redder from the rose-colored blush attached to
that bane of teetotalism, the moderate drinker, up to
the rubicundity, at once deep and bright, discovered in a
man who had died of delirium tremens. At this point
there still remained a stomach unaccounted for one far
redder than the rest. The intensely vivid scarlet of its
centre passed gradually into maroon on one side, into
purple on the other. There was no inscription to show
the potatory sins which had been followed by such signal
punishment.
3Q
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
At last the lecturer pointed his wand towards this ap-
palling object. The expectant audience was hushed
into breathless silence. A pin might have been heard
to drop.
"This, ladies and gentlemen" very slowly and delib-
erately uttered, as if in enjoyment of our suspense; "this,
as I may say, heart-rending diagram presents to you a
faithful and accurate delineation of" pausing again, " a
railroad-man's stomach ! " And then, giving time only
for the expiatory sounds, and for the rustle of subdued
but general movement which accompany the release of
an assembly from highly wrought attention, he proceeded
to denounce those persons who, by riding on railways, af-
forded to the attaches thereof the means of rubifying
their digestive organs.
I am not prepared to say as to the effect he produced
upon others, but for myself, I was sufficiently struck by
the injustice of the sweeping accusation which the words
conveyed, to turn with no small disgust from the glib fa-
natic through whose lips they passed. From this small
incident, I date the origin of an involuntary regard, since
confirmed by many incidents, for a worthy class who have
suffered unduly in the estimation of their fellow-men. I
am always ready to defend them from so silly a charge,
for it should be known, that no person given to excessive
indulgence in any of the small vices, can find employ-
ment to-day in any department of the railway service.
There are black sheep now and then, as we confess fur-
ther on in these pages, but these are exceptions to the
rule. There are traces of the Divine hand of the Creator
in us all. Whether we look upward or downward in so-
ciety, if we will only see each other rightly, we can come
to no truer conclusion, than that men are good fellows
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
in the main The bond of fellowship clips all society
together and is a law of Nature, much more power J
than all the laws of all the lands.
With these paragraphs by way of introduction, the
reader 1S invited to mingle with the men of the Road at
heir various places of rendezvous. We will hear them
utf n T ^ Ven ; UreS . and s P in th ^ir yarns in the vernac
^^^*^*^"
Engineers and firemen are wont to sun themselves,
when off duty, at the Turn-Table or in the Round-House
and it is not uncommon to find a score of these brave
fellows gathered at a single sitting. A majority are off
duty, a few may be waiting to go on," but there is al-
ways time for a yarn, and some one to tell it If there
are no t bl tQ ^ a ^ ^ .^ ^ ^
The better class of engineers begin life as apprentices in
the shop, and developing into master machinists, go into
he cab familiar with every part of a locomotive, and
thoroughly trained in the method of its construction.
They are regular subscribers to the various publica-
tions that issue in the interest of their branch of the ser
vice, and, as a general thing, keep themselves well un-
formed as to current events. The fireman, who goes
through a severe apprenticeship, with the hope of some
day getting an engine of his own, is usually much attach-
ed to Ins engineer, and the two are inseparable compan-
ions. He has little time for intellectual cultivation, and
^ given to reading at all, rarely gets beyond his local
paper, or the cheap sensational novel. But his brasses
must shine, and his rods glisten, though even food and
rest have to be ignored. Both engineer and fireman be-
come much attached to their engine, and usually christen
32
EVERYDAY LIFE ON" THE RAIL.
it with some pet name, by which it becomes known all
over the line. They vest it with human faculties, and
not unfrequently expect it to give evidence of reciprocal
affection. The confidence of the engineer in his loco-
motive is of the same character as that which binds the
lover to his sweetheart, and he will follow it, in time of
danger, with the most heroic devotion.
The author finds human nature very much the same
on all roads, and everyday life on the Road strikingly
similar on all the leading lines. The groups, therefore,
that he has gathered, are composed of representative men
of many leading lines of railway, the names and charac-
ters being genuine in every instance.
" I used to run a locomotive," said Bristol,^" on a road
branching out from the C, H. & D. at Hamilton, Ohio,
and running into Indiana. John Lincoln was superintend-
ent, but I've forgotten what they called that line. Po-
dunk was on that road, a town in Posey County, not un-
known to fame. Stopping there one night, I noticed two
green-looking countrymen inspecting the locomotive, and
giving vent to expressions of astonishment. Finally, one
of them looked up to me, and said :
"'Stranger, are this a lokymotive ?'
" ' Yes ; didn't you ever see one before ? '
"'Haven't never seed one afore. Me 'n Tom come
down to the station to-night, puppuss to see one. This
is the feller, ain't he?'
" ' Certainly.'
" ' What yer call that yer in now ? '
" 'We call this the cab, and that's the driving wheel.'
" ' That black thing yonder 's the chimney, 'spose ? '
" ' Yes, that's the chimney.'
" ' Be you the engineer what runs the merchine ? '
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 33
" ' I am the engineer.'
" ' Tom,' said the fellow to his mate, after eying me
closely for a few minutes, * it don't take much of a man
to be an engineer, do it ? '
"That joke was on me."
" I came over from Liverpool," said Manning, when
the laughter had subsided, "and gets a engine on the
York Central. A bit of a accident 'appened at the other
end of the line one day ; that is to say, I run my engine
over a very respectable gentleman of the neighborhood.
When I gits to the end of my run, seems like everybody
in the town was at the depot to bother me with ques-
tions. I don't say what town it was, as how I don't
want to offend no man's feelins. One old gentleman
'arassed me very much, and wouldn't take no hexcuse,
so, good-natured like, I told him as how it was.
"'I seed the old gentleman upon the line,' says I,
1 walking along with his hands in his pockets, about 'alf a
mile ahead, quite comfortable, and I dare say thinking o'
nothink like certainly, not of me, behind him, coming
along with a couple of thousand tons at forty miles the
hour. So I whistles away merrily '
" 'Good heavens!' cried my listener, 'do you tell me
that you whistled when a fellow-creature was placed in
circumstances of such imminent peril ? '
" I made my engine whistle,' I hexplained. * I often
speaks of the engine as if it was me, sir. I shrieked, I
say, in a manner as was a caution to cats ; but not a bit
would the old gent get out of the way or turn his head,
by which means, I can't help thinking ever since, that
he was somehow deaf. We reversed, put our brake on,
and turned off our steam, but bless ye, it was ne'er a
morsel of use, for we couldn't have pulled up under a
3*
34
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
mile at least, and just as we neared him, the poor old
gent turned round and threw up his arms like this '
" ' Gracious goodness, my good man,' says my listener,
' do you mean to say that you ran hover 'im ? '
" ' Lof bless ye, sir, why of course we did. We was
down upon 'im in a minute, like one o'clock ! '
" The crowd was awful still now till a young commer-
cial traveller observed quite dryly
" ' Yes, sir ; the incident as which you have so graphi-
cally described, 'appened to my uncle.'
"My old listener wiped the spersperation from the
top o' his 'ead.
" ' He was killed, of course ? ' he says.
" ' No. The hentire train passed over 'im, merely re-
moving the skin from the top of his nose. The engine
threw him on his back between the rails, into a hollow
part of the ballast. If he hadn't been deaf, he would
perhaps have gone mad with the noise.' "
"My name is Carter, and I am an engineer on the
Rondout and Oswego Road. I was bringing in the east-
ward-bound train not long since, and stopped at Shokan.
I don't know what was up, but the Collector of the town
was on hand with a. posse of men and a chain, to prevent
the train proceeding any further. The chain was passed
through the back end of the rear car, but before it could
be fastened to anything substantial, I got wind of how
matters stood. I threw the throttle wide open and
started the train with a jump. The effect on that Col-
lector's posse was the same as that on the Indians who
attempted to capture a train on the Pacific Road with a
lariat."
" On a certain Tuesday in the year 1871, the down
train on the Bangor and Piscataquis Road was being
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 35
made up at Oldtown for connection with the E. and N.
A. train. A locomotive of the former line was moving
quite swiftly at a short distance from the depot. My
name is Watford Jack Watford, and I was in charge of
that locomotive. A lad about seven years of age walked
into the centre of the track, unconscious of the- approach-
ing engine. Busy with my inside brasses at the time,
and moving, as I thought, merely at a depot pace, I
failed to keep an eye ahead. The locomotive came
rushing along, and the bystanders, horrified at the peril
of the boy, shouted wildly to him to run. The discovery
of his peril seemed to paralyze his limbs, and terror
seemed to root him to the spot. I looked out now
saw the trouble, and shut off, but it was too late. Just
as the engine reached the lad, a young man rushed from
the crowd to the rescue. He seized the boy as the pilot
of the locomotive was within a few feet of the spot ;
threw him by main force to the platform beside the rails,
and by a mighty effort sprang, almost at the same time,
clear of the track, apparently grazing the front of the
engine as it thundered by. The cheers which greeted
his humane achievement were well deserved. The brave
fellow who performed this noble act is a young man
named Luther Soaper, still living in Oldtown, Maine,
about eighteen years of age. I need not tell you why
I shall never forget either his name or the brave deed."
" Talking about pilots," says Crotter, " that reminds
me of one. Jauriet is master mechanic of the Chicago,
Burlington, and Quincy Road, stationed at Chicago, Illi-
nois. He is of French extraction, one of the most ac-
complished machinists in the country, and the inventor
of many valuable improvements in the locomotive.
'Ditto' is the pet name of an engineer on the road,
36 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
also of French descent. One time ' Ditto ' sold two
pigs to Jauriet, but never received his pay. Well, along
came Jauriet' s order that every engineer should pay for
every pilot he broke. Two years after the sale of the
pigs, ' Ditto ' went into Chicago with a broken pilot, and
the ' old man ' hinted at the pay. ' Ditto,' who was al-
ways able to pilot his own canoe, replied
" ' Me pay pilot ven you pay pig ! ' "
Two of the most incorrigible disciples of Munchausen
the author has met in his travels, are now to be found on
this same C, B. & Q. Road. These are the engineers
Stedman and " Doc." Merriman. These men have had
many a tilt in the way of spinning yarns, but the boys are
as yet unable to decide to whom the ribbon belongs.
" Doc, how about that fast time on the B. & M. ? I
heard of it, when I was running into Albany."
" Well, the ' old man '* came to me, and says he, ' Cap,
can you make it ? ' "
" ' I kin, if the wheels '11 stick on,' says I.
" ' Go ahead then,' says he, ' and I'll get on the way-
car.'
" I looked behind after I let her out, and saw his coat-
tails sticking straight out, and he standing on the hind
steps. When we reached the down grade, the trucks
came off the hind end of the way-car, but we never
stopped ! I made it, and the old man said it was the best
time ever made on that road ! "
" What kept the hind end of that car up, boy ? " asked
Stedman.
" Well, you see, we was going so fast, that the wind
held her up all the way ! "
* This term is always applied to the head of any department.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
37
" Just so," rejoined ' Sted ; ' " that reminds me of our
old black cat. She had twenty-two lives. She used to
go down in the cellar and lick up all the old woman's
cream. I thought I had her killed once or twice, but
she managed to come round again."
" Which? " inquired Doc; " the old woman ? "
" No, you limping fool ! the old black cat. Well,
finally I broke her to pieces one day against the cellar
wall, so, she couldn't come together again, and buried her
in an old pile of rotten hay, near where some corn and
punkins were planted. Next spring the corn came up
and the punkins got ripe. One morning the old woman
went down in the cellar for her cream, and there was the
black cat, licking away as though she hadn't lost a day !
There was a little of the rotten hay sticking to her yet,
and out of her body there protruded "
" There what ? " interrupted Doc.
" Out of her body hung a punkinvine, and a little ways
off was a punkin. Further along on that vine was
another punkin, and then another, and so on all the way
out to that hay pile ! "
" Say, Sted, how fur was it to that hay pile ?"
"Well, I didn't measure, but I should judge about a
mile / "
" Doc." got down on his game leg, pulled off his cap,
and said with warmth
"Sted, that's an infernal lie /J '"
Charlie Clark, an old U. P. man, but now on the
North Missouri, said they used to have " Doc's " match
out that way. He wouldn't locate him exactly, now that
the poor fellow was off, but if the boys had no objection,
he would read them a rhyme, from which they could
judge for themselves.
38 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL
MORT THOMPSON.
AN ENGINEER'S RHYME.
" Time against the Pass'nger !
No, but what's the odds ;
Fifteen minutes yet, you know,
I'll make it, by the gods.
Throw off the brakes, my Sanders,
Fill us a quart, my lout ;
Isn't old Sixty lovely,
She'll jerk it for all that's out.
" You're mighty right, old pardner,
She's never gin out as yet ;
' Up grade,' you say, my hearty,
Well, what have you got to bet ?
'Orders,' damn the orders;
The fifteen ticks is mine ;
Fill up her belly, Sanders,
And fetch us a drink o' brine.*
"Bully for you, that's lightning,
Engineer's steam, you know;
Afeerd ! get up, you scoundrel,
Or I'll split you through and througl .
Here's to you, my old sweetheart,
Now take a good long breath ;
More fire, my lovely Sanders,
Why, you look as pale as death.
" That's business, eh ? my Sanders,
Hear, how she counts the rails ;
'Five minutes,' well, we'll make it,
Old Sixty never fails.
Here, take your brine, you coward,
How far to the crossing now ?
All right ; we'll take the chances
For a fun'ral or a row.
* Brine. The slang name for liquor.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
39
" What ! only one more minute !
Well, I've got another notch ;
You say you heard 'em whistle-
More fire, you onery botch-
There now, old Sixty's got it,
Got the throttle, sleek and'clean ;
Yer shove us that ere bottle;
What's the use in bein' mean?
" We picked him up, some dozen rods
From where the two trains struck,
Some twenty killed, I think ; and me,
Well, that, you see, was luck.
I got his place, as was the rule,
When Mort went on the she'lf ;
A splendid Engineer he was,
But couldn't gauge himself."
" If it's a sermon, Charlie, make it short r nr ; . .
minutes I must take old no North ^
Olno and Mississippi n J TSedfo^ ZLZZ
and he taught me all I know about a locomotive
It was common to drink at every station in those davs
:. tttte ,m o f W L Very He n ta s f 'f "T ^ ~
*>*-, hoth ^ one ZZ?&
40 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
I was a little sweet on the big one, and I believe Jim
thought the road was clear, but well, let me tell it my
own way.
" We got to thinking seriously about this brine business
at last, and one evening the little girl asked Jim and me
to go to a temperance meeting in the town where we
both lived. We laughed at the idea at first, but to humor
his little pet, the father took her by the hand, and we
were all soon seated in the church.
"The address was about individual influence, and point-
ing right at us he said : ' The little girl sitting on the
workingman's knee in front of me, even she has influ-
ence ! ' Jim, as if acting under some sort of a spell, jumped
on his legs, put the child on the floor, and then striking
his hand against his thigh, exclaimed, ' Thats true I '
Then, embarrassed at what he had done, took his seat,
put the little girl again on his knee, and listened atten-
tively to the speaker. Everybody was taken aback, of
course, and some thought he was drunk, but I knew they
would never have a chance to say that of Jim Styles
again.
"Well, the meeting broke up, and a good many ladies
came to kiss Jim's little girl. I pulled out a- ways, for, to
tell you the truth, boys, I wasn't used to such scenes.
After a bit, the lecturer came to Jim, and asked him what
made him act so in the meeting.
" ' I am an engineer on your road here,' said Jim ;
'and when I had -the South run, I used to go for my
brine every night, and seldom returned sober. I had a
daughter then, about eighteen years old, a dutiful child,
with a warm and affectionate heart. She used to come
after me to the beer-shop, and wait outside the door in the
cold and wet until I came out, that she might conduct
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 4|
m tT She TOS afraM ' if kft to m T*lf, that I migh ,
a, s edied'^nff T J ? ^ < ^
went to rt, dea * Ve,y mUch > th0 gh I stil
vent to the saloon. But somehow or other, I never liked
go that way alone after she died, especiali; in h , t
and for he sake of company, I se d to take with mete
toe glrI whom you sw e the
*= httlegul, she holding by my coat-tail ; and when we
fn rS ' he , S f 0n : '""ag-t "hta
into I" 1 Ug,U him ' ,is en iM xt morning he aot
into the cab with n / ; 1 , , JllllJ g> "e got
he 'take fhf ai P S hand <CI ^rlie,' says
ne, take that, and learn it by heart.' "
"FATHER, DON'T GO IN!
"A father bore upon his arm
A girl of tender years ;
She shivered sadly with the cold;
Her eyes were full of tears.
"I paused to see why she should weep
A girl so young and fair
And why her father wore a look
Of horror or despair.
" I did not need to tarry lono-
Her tears to understand,"
For on the gin-shop's half-shut door
The father laid his hand.
42 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
** Loud was the wintry wind without,
Loud was the noise within ;
But o'er them all I heard her words,
* O father, don't go in ! '
" He turned him sternly from the door,
And strode along the street.
Thanking his young deliverer
With words and kisses sweet.
" Strong were the few and gentle words
The little girl did speak ;
But stronger far the silent tear
That trickled down her cheek ! "
"Dutch Jake" is the railroad name of a Teutonic
engineer on a certain Pennsylvania road that must be
nameless here. " Princeton Bill " is the name of a
worthy Scotchman, who attends the switches at an im-
portant point on the same road. He has been there
ever since the road was built. A paralytic attack, or
something of that sort, has affected the hinges of his jaw,
and they work poorly. He can get up steam easy
enough, but his rods are too tight. There is a heap of
lost motion on the part of the jaws, before he gets a
word out, and when it comes, it comes with a jerk.
" Dutch Jake," on the other hand, stutters ; his tongue
always gets in the way when he talks, especially when he
is excited. Jake first met Bill when the latter was fixing
a switch to let his train in. Bill attempted to tell Jake
that there were some cars to take on there. The jaws
struggled, the mouth was all at sea, and the tongue forgot
its cunning. Jake gazed first with awe, and hearing no
articulate sound, imagined that the switchman was ridi-
culing his own infirmity. Boiling with rage, he set out to
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 43
reply. " W w w m m m " was as far as he
could get. His face red with the rushing blood, his
lips kept moving, but not a word escaped. Bill replied
in the same strain, after another "exhaust" or two.
Jake was finally emptied of this struggling sentence :
Www/iat i i in t t th Joinder's m m
mat ter m m mit you ? "
Bill was sure Jake was mocking him, and went for
him with both hands. If the boys had not interfered,
there would have been a serious fight, for both were
stalwart men. As it was, the scene was funny in the
extreme.
" My name is George Guernsey, and I am an engi-
neer on the East Tennessee, Virginia, and Georgia Rail-
road. My fireman's name is Joe Patty, and we both live
at Morristown, Tennessee. Joe is just getting well of
his injuries, and we think we can beat that pilot yarn
one, anyhow. On a Sunday night, in February, 1872,
we were coming in with the passenger train, due at Dal-
ton at 7:33 o'clock, p.m. When within a mile of that
village, Patty went forward to the front of the engine, to
oil the valves of the steam-chest ; and just as he reached
the proper place on the bumper, a beam to which the
'cow-catcher' is attached, the engine came in contact
with a cow. The force of the train threw the cow upon
the beam on which Patty was standing with his back to
the cow, and his face fronting the cab. The shock threw
him off his feet, but having a firm grasp upon a brace, he
held on with the tenacity of a drowning man. He suc-
ceeded in maintaining his firm grip, until, with the use of
his other hand, he regained his position. The cow, in the
meantime, had fallen off into the ditch, dead. Patty's
right shoulder and breast were badly bruised, and the
44 EVERYDAY LIFE ON" THE RAIL.
palm of his right hand cut entirely across. I call that
a fearful ride."
" I think I can beat it," said Curry, "with one of the
most thrilling railroad incidents on record. It was liter-
ally a Ride for Life. It occurred on the Oregon and
California Road, between the cities of Portland and
Salem. I had charge of the down train, and we ap-
proached the station at full speed, for we were some
minutes behind. The road, at this point, runs through a
deep cut, something more than a mile in length, and in
entering it, the road makes a curve, so that an engineer
cannot see entirely through it. So, as we thundered
along on that ioth of November, 1871, I little thought
what stirring times were upon me. We had hardly
gotten into the cut, before I saw a woman riding
leisurely through it, and with perfect nonchalance, using
the centre of the track. She was not more than half
way through the cut, and barely a quarter of a mile
ahead of me. I whistled ' down brakes,' and then
sounded, the warning.
"The woman hearing the peculiar death whistle of the
locomotive, looked over her shoulder, and saw the train
rushing at her. She did not shriek or faint, nor give up
all hope, but like a true Webfoot, her courage rose equal
to the emergency. She commenced swinging her riding
whip from one shoulder of her horse to the other, thereby
urging him to exert his utmost speed. The whip, and
perhaps the shrieking of the steam-whistle, caused the
animal to make excellent time, but the iron horse gained
upon him every moment.
"The quick and nervous whistling caused the passen-
gers to look out of the windows, and when they saw the
lady, the wildest excitement ensued. Several jumped
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 45
forward and seized the bell-rope, as if that would help.
The boys at the brakes were exerting all their strength,
and you may bet, I was doing all I knew how to stop
the train. The woman, too, was doing her level best
to make that bit of horse-flesh rise to a Dexter' s speed,
but all in vain. The locomotive kept gaining on the
horse and its rider, and there seemed no further hope.
" There were, perhaps, thirty feet intervening between
the cow-catcher and the horse's heels, when, fortunately
for the woman, she observed a place a trifle wider than
usual, and with a steady rein, she guided the fleeing
horse from the track, and endeavored to press him
against the wall of the cut in order that the train might
pass by without injury. In doing this, the woman was
encouraged by Mr. Sam Winans, the conductor, who had
ran forward and got out on the locomotive. A few
moments more, and the fiery monster poked his nose
past the rump of the horse. At this moment Mr.
Winans threw his whole force against the animal, and
held him until the train stopped. And then went up a
rousing cheer of gratification and joy at the escape of the
woman from a terrible death."
" Say, give us a rest on this escape and accident busi-
ness," roared Cully, of the Baltimore & Ohio.
"Here, too," joined in Baker, of the Kansas Pacific;
" out our way, we kill people by the score."
"What was that woman's name, Curry?"
" She proved to be a Portland belle, on a visit to a
school-mate at one of the smaller stations ; a beautiful,
dashing, spirited girl, about well, I think, sixteen."
" I say, what was her name ? "
" Oh ! ah ! Well, her name is Mrs. Curry now ! "
Whew-w ! All right, John, let her out ! [Sings.]
46 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
" Let her out ! Let her out !
Sling care to the dogs;
Keep an eye on the throttle,
And an eye on the frogs.
Watch the flags, and the signals,
Red, yellow, and green ;
We're on time, and as free
A-as e'er Rover-r has been."
"Good enough," "bully for you," and similar expres-
sions came with the applause.
Tounley, of the New York Central, said it was time
for a little more romance. " To begin at the commence-
ment, I will state, that early in i860, a young lady in the
city of Auburn, N. Y., the daughter of wealthy parents,
eloped with a young man named Niles, a railroad en-
gineer, and the twain proceeded to Cleveland, Ohio.
They were pursued by an infuriated brother of the young
lady, and to avoid detection, after the marriage ceremony
had been performed, the young lady arrayed herself in
male attire. In this disguise, and while selling apples on
the street, she passed her brother several times without
being recognized. Early in the war, the couple went
South to Nashville, Tenn., where Niles got an engine on
the Nashville & Chattanooga Road. His wife, still keep-
ing up her disguise, shipped with him as fireman. Be-
tween Nashville and Chattanooga, a shot fired by a rebel
inflicted a serious wound upon the engineer, and he was
taken to the Government hospital, at Murfreesboro,
Tenn. His wife followed, and to her careful nursing,
Niles owes his life. When sufficiently recovered to en-
dure the hardships of travelling, they returned to Cleve-
land. A few months later the alleged gold discoveries
at Mandock, Canada, attracted them thither, and the wife
accompanied her husband, still in masculine garments.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
47
The vicissitudes of her career, exposed to hardships and
accidents, were too severe, however, and a few weeks
since, she died at Cleveland, after a brief illness. She
wore male attire successfully for ten years. Niles, who
now resides at Oshkosh, Wisconsin, is about 40 years of
age, and does not refer to the heroic devotion of his
wife but in terms of the warmest admiration."
"When -a certain party sued our Company for dam-
ages," said a fireman, " engineers from all the roads were
summoned to appear at the trial. Among others,
Jauriet, our master mechanic. One of the lawyers
asked the question :
" ' Can you get an engine up to a car, without moving
the car ; if so, how ? '
" A number of engineers answered in various ways,
until it came to Jauriet.
" ' Well, sir, I should just get a couple of pinch-bars,
and pinch her up.' "
"At another time," said Malone, "there was a suit
against the road at Peoria; something about damages
for setting fire to somebody's hay. Our Billy Wilson was
a witness, and what he don't know about a locomotive
ain't worth knowing. Well, the lawyer for the farmer
wanted to have some particular point about an engine
explained. Wilson had gone over it two or three times,
but couldn't get it through the lawyer. The lawyer
finally confessed that he couldn't understand it.
"'I am not at all surprised,' rejoined Wilson. 'Any-
body can become a lawyer, but it requires brains and ex-
perience to learn a locomotive.' "
Chilson, an engineer over fifty years of age, was killed
on the C, B. & Q. Road, October 14, 1869. Jones said
he would try and give an account of the sad occurrence.
48 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
w It was during the Fulton County Fair, and extra trains
were the order of the day. Our train was the regular
passenger, running from Galesburg to Rushville, with
orders to meet the extra passenger at Canton ; then to run
to Bryant for No. 20 Kimbal's freight. We side-tracked
at Canton, and while there the telegraph operator re-
ceived orders to hold passenger for No. 20. He started
out with the order, and seeing the passenger coming,
thought it was Kimbal's freight. He returned, failing to
deliver the order for if it was the freight, the order was
useless. But it was the passenger, and the operator did
not discover his mistake until the passenger came up to
the platform, and had pulled out again. He ran after
the train with the order, but, of course, it was a useless
chase. We had orders to run to Bryant and ' hurry up,'
and the freight had orders to ' hurry up ' to Canton. Both
trains were running at full speed ! They met on the
short curve in the timber, about three miles below Canton.
" They saw nothing of each other until separated by
only fifteen rods. Chilson called for brakes, and Brooks,
his fireman, jumped off. He reversed his engine, and
with one foot against the boiler-head, and both hands
firmly grasping the throttle, he braced himself for his
fate, and stood there until they struck !
** ' Down brakes ! ' One splendid, hard-held breath,
And lo ! an unknown name,
Strode into sovereignty from death,
Trailing a path of fame.
" Home but his foot grew granite fast ;
Wife yet he did not reel ;
Babe ah, they tugged ! but to the last
He stood there true as steel.
"When we picked him up, life was not extinct. His
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
49
face was mashed, and his body fearfully scalded, pre-
senting a horrid spectacle. We carried him to a hotel in
Canton, just across from the depot there, and laid him
on a cot in the office. The landlord complained of
being full, and that it would injure his trade to have this
man here. He had friends in Canton, rich and well-to-
do, but they refused to take him in. Finally, we bore
the sufferer to an old vacant house, where he died in
great agony in four or five hours. His conductor, bag-
gage-man, and brakemen were with him to the last. His
last words were, ' Has the old man no friend in Canton
who will give him a bed to die on ? '
" Both engines were smashed up, and two or three la-
dies were slightly bruised, but I believe the Company
thought poor Chilson was the greatest loss. The tele-
graph operator went crazy, and Mr. Hitchcock assisted
his family out of his own private purse.
"No, he refused to jump ; he had often been heard to
say that it was an engineer's duty to stand by his engine
under all circumstances."
"I think," said Phil Potter, feelingly, "that we have
as brave men, men as much devoted to duty, all about
us, as those who have been celebrated in prose and verse.
Here are some verses appropriate to the death of Chilson.
" INTO THE JAWS OF DEATH.
" The wind blows cold, the stars shine bright,
The ice-bound river glistens,
Where flying onward, into night,
The life-train madly hastens.
" On, on, past hamlet, town and wood,
That fringe the frozen river,
As some infuriate demon would
Glide, roaming on forever.
8
50
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
u On into night, with fiery eye,
Its sinuous body dashes,
With iron muscles, pulse of steam,
It plunges, screams, and crashes.
" Yet a great soul inspires the hands
That guide its onward motion,
As starting from Atlantic lands,
It seeks the Western ocean.
" And steady stands the engineer,
True to his fearful duty ;
And glancing back among the cars,
Where rides babes, age, and beauty.
" He feels that loving human hearts
Are in his watch and keeping ;
And though he guides to joy or death,
They trust him by their sleeping.
" Then firmer grasps the iron bar ;
His noble heart thrills faster
Great God ! is that the signal light
That tells of near disaster ?
" Then on the air the whistle shrieks
Like some lost soul despairing,
And onward to its death-doom flies,
Past earthly aid and caring.
** The Spartan hands reverse the valve
' Put on the patents, Nick !
We'll do the best we can to save
Our passengers ; be quick ! '
" The crisis comes, ' Say, will you jump ? '
A glance, but no replying;
Then fixed his eyes where duty called,
Though his path led to dying.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 51
** A crash ! a flame leaps into air,
And laps the sundered timbers,
And wailing voices echoed there,
Where souls died with the embers.
" And babes and youth, and kindly age,
And manhood' s stronger glory,
Returned to him who seals the page
Of each such frightful story.
"And he who clasped the guiding bars
To death, unswerved from duty,
Shall wear in Heaven the crown of stars
That waits heroic beauty.
" For Christ, who died that men might live,
And dying claimed our loving,
To man who dies for men, will give
His welcome and approving."
"Say, Doc," asks one, "what was the name of that
locomotive you run on the B. & M. Road, two years
ago ? I heard that you were on that road awhile."
"Why," replies Doc, "that was the old ' Ottumwa}
16+24 inch cylinder, 4 foot 6 in. wheel. You may talk
about your rides and your fast time, but just let me tell
you what happened to me once on that road."
The boys wink at each other and get into position.
" Well, I was put onto the ' Ottumwa ' one day, and as
the boys told me she wasn't very slow, thought I would
try her a string or two. My conductor came around,
and says he
" ' This time has got to be made, and you'll have to
let her out to do it.'
"So I started. She moved off quite easy, and after
we got out of town, I let her out a little. I had been
52
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
jogging along I thought about on time, when Hilton, my
conductor, came over, and says he :
" Old man, you will find by the time you get up the
next grade, that you won't have much time left to go to
L for the passenger.'
" So I gave her another notch, and when I got to the
top of the grade, I see, about a mile ahead, a good half
mile of solid beef.* I took out my watch and saw that
I was forty-five minutes late. Says I to myself: Doc,
faint heart never won fair lady, and I told my fireman to
shove in some more diamonds, f I gave her a little of
what goes through the boiler and opened her feed-box.
When we passed through the beef it was all ready for the
butchers. I cut it up to order. Superintendent said I
was too much of a butcher."
"You don't mean to say, Doc, that you went down
the grade so fast that you killed the stock ? "
" No, I don't say so, but I know the foreman of the
Round-House ordered some of the wipers to drive off that
steer that stood by the coal chute. He mistook the
'Ottumwa' for a steer. They took eleven skins off the
pilot!
" I've got to finish this packing now, boys, but thafs
so/"
"When ' Doc' left the road here," said Stedman, " I
took his engine, the old '51.' That locomotive could
drink more and do her work under it, than any critter I
ever drove. But I never could get her by Jim Aiken's
at Mendota, until she had her brine. Doc. had her pretty
well trained. I tried her one day, working her wide open,
"Solid beef. "Cattle. f "Diamonds." Coal.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 53
with 150 pounds of steam, but she stalled at Jim's sure.
Couldn't get her by until we had o\xx brine / Ask Frank
Stone ! "
" There are little incidents occurring on the Road,"
said Charlie Cossom, " as well worth the telling as the
latest history of adultery and murder. A little girl wan-
dered on the track of the Delaware Railway as a freight
train of nineteen cars was approaching. As it turned
the sharp top of the grade, opposite St. George's, the
engineer saw the child for the first time, blew 'down
brakes,' and reversed his engine. But it was too late to
slacken its speed in time, and the poor baby got up, and,
laughing, ran to meet it. ' I told the conductor,' says the
engineer, ' if he could jump off the engine, and running
ahead, pick the child up before the engine reached her,
he might save her life, though it would risk his own,
which he did. The engine was within one foot of the
child when he secured it, and they were both saved. I
would not run the same risk of saving a child again,
by way of experiment, for all Newcastle county, for nine
out of ten might not escape. He took the child to the
lane, and she walked to the house, and a little girl was
coming after it when he left." The honest engineer, hav-
ing finished his day's run, sits down the next morning and
writes the homely letter to the father of the child, " in
order that it may be more carefully watched in future,"
and thanking God " that himself and the baby's mother
slept tranquilly last night, and were spared the life -long
pangs of remorse." It does not occur to him to even
mention the conductor's name, who, he seems to think,
did no uncommon thing in risking his own life, unseen
and unnoticed, on the solitary road, for a child whom he
would never probably see again. The moral of the story
54 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
to him was, apparently, that mothers should keep their
children off the track.
"Some one has put the incident very cleverly in rhyme,
which I have carried in this old book ever since :
"A RHYME OF THE RAIL.
"BY A RETIRED ENGINEER.
"Now my running days are over,
The engineer needs rest ;
My hand is growing shaky,
There's a queer pain in my breast ;
But here near the old turn-table,
I'll tell a tale of the Road,
That '11 ring in my head forever,
Till it rests beneath the sod.
" Lumbering on in the twilight,
The night was dropping her shade,
And the Gladiator ' labored,
Climbing the top of the grade.
The train was heavily laden,
So I let my engine rest ;
Making the grading slowly,
Till we reached the upland's crest.
" I held my watch to the lamplight
Ten minutes behind the time !
Lost in the slackened motion
Of the up-grade's heavy climb ;
But I knew the miles of the prairie
That stretched a level track,
So I touched the gauge of the boiler,
And pulled the lever back.
" Over the rails a-gleaming,
Thirty an hour or so,
The engine leaped like a demon,
Breathing a fiery glow ;
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
But to me a-hold of the lever
It seemed a child alway,
Ready to mind me ever,
And my lightest touch obey.
" I was proud, you know, of my engine,
Holding it steady that night,
And my eye on the track before us,
Ablaze with the drummond light,
We neared a well-known cabin,
Where a child of three or four,
As the up-train passed oft called me,
A playing around the door.
" My hand was firm on the throttle
As we swept around the curve,
When something afar in the shadow
Struck fire through every nerve.
I sounded the brakes, and crashing
The lever down in dismay ;
Great God ! within eighty paces
Ahead, was the child at play.
" One instant one moment, and only
The world flew around in my brain,
I smote my hand on my forehead
To keep back the terrible pain.
The train I thought flying forever,
With mad, irresistible roll ;
The cries of the dying the night wind
Swept into my shuddering souL
" Then I stood on the front of the engine,
How I got there I never could tell,
My feet planted down on the cross-bar,
Where the cow-catcher slopes to the rail.
One hand firmly locked on the coupler,
And one held out in the night,
While my eye gauged the distance, and measured
The speed of our slackening flight.
55
56 EVERYDAY LIFE ON" THE RAIL.
" My mind thank God ! it was steady,
I saw the curls of her hair,
And the face that, turning in wonder,
Was lit by the deadly glare.
I know little more but I heard it
The groan of the anguished wheels,
And remember thinking the engine
In agony trembles and reels.
" One rod ! To the day of my dying
I shall think the old engine reared back,
And as it recoiled with a shudder,
I swept my hand over the track.
Then darkness fell over my eyelids,
But I heard the surge of the train,
And the poor old engine creaking,
As racked by a deadly pain.
'* They found us, they said, on the gravel,
My fingers clutched in her hair ;
And she in my bosom struggling
To nestle securely there.
We are not much given to crying,
We men who run on the Road,
But I wept o'er the little darling,
And sent up a prayer to God."
Hank Fales, of the Hudson River Road, hoped the
boys wouldn't pull out until he had his turn. " We may
never meet again," he said, and he wanted to offer a
tribute to brave old Jake Vaughn, his old engineer.
" He was lost in a frightful accident on our road, and his
death was singularly affecting. When he was told that
he could not survive, and that it was impossible for his
wife to reach him before he died, he called Bill, his fire-
man, and asked him to write a letter for him to his wife.
*Bill thought a great deal of his engineer, and he after-
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
57
wards put it in rough rhyme, and I keep the slip by me
all the time. Jake called his engine 'Fleetwing,' and
sometimes his 'wife.' He begged us, with his dying
breath, not to blame Fleetwing, but the broken rail.
"THE DYING ENGINEER.
"A fireman's rhyme.
u Bill, I'm on the down grade now,
And can't reach ary brake ;
Guess old ' Fleetwing's' time is up,
Leastwise, it's up with Jake.
Jake Vaughn yes, write it down in full,
S/ie'Hknov/ what to infer
You see I called ' Fleetwing ' my wife
Before I married her.
" Torpedoes never mind no use,
Nor Sand I'm running wild ;
Say, Bill, just scratch another word,
One for our little child !
'Pull her over ' no, what use,
On our side of the hill ;
Just hold her level for a spell,
What ! you ain' t crying Bill ?
" ' Broke ' you're right. It seems to me
She's lost a rod or beam ;
No fire, no water say, my boy,
How can you get your steam ?
Head-light's all agog, besides,
And swimming in the wind ;
Say, Bill, afore you write that out,
What's comin' on behind?
'* Them bridges no, the Hudson Road
Ain't much on bridges, eh !
There'll be an awful smash-up, boy,
Right here, some other day.
8*
58 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
An' tell her * Fleetwing^ ain't to blame,
Only she come it strong ;
Down grade, you see, yes name in full,
Your'n truly, Jacob Vaughn.
" Bill, I'm on the down grade now,
There's no way now to stop ;
The order's come for Fleet and me
To hurry to the shop.
'Lay off a trip,' you're right, my boy,
A long trip with the dead ;
Just tell her, Bill, Jake ain't afeard
Of anything ahead."
" I formed the acquaintance of Mr. Tom Hoyle in the
air, at an altitude, I should conjecture, of about 5,000
feet. We were sent up as avant courriers by a locomo-
tive that subsequently retired from business ; so when we
returned to Mother Earth, both employer and employ-
ment were gone. I was not allowed the pleasure of a
formal introduction to Mr. Hoyle during that brief jour-
ney, but having been picked up in his embrace, I have
always hugged the impression that he had a hold on
my friendship for life. He was an English engineer,
or 'driver' as they are called there, and I had been
allowed a few miles on the stoker's seat, in order to
watch Hoyle at his work. He was a little over anxious
to make a good display of his skill and the power of his
engine, and his original ideas exploded, with the result
as hinted above.
" We were carried to a farm-house near by, where every
care and attention were extended. It was during this
forced confinement that I learned much about driving
engines. Hoyle would get his splinters arranged com-
fortably, and sometimes go on for hours, in this way :
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
59
" ' When a man has a liking for a thing, it's as good as
being clever. In a very short time I became one of the
best drivers on the line. This was allowed. I took a
pride in it, you see, and liked it. No, I didn't know
much about the engine, scientifically, as you call it ; but
I could put her to rights if anything went out of gear
that is to say, if there was nothing broken but I
couldn't have explained how the steam worked inside.
Starting an engine is just like drawing a drop of gin.
You turn a handle and off she goes ; then you turn the
handle the other way, put on the brakes, and you stops
her. There's not much more in it, so far. It's no good
being scientific and knowing the principle of the engine
inside ; no good at all. Fitters who know all the ins and
outs of the engine make the worst of drivers. That's
well known. They know too much. It's just as I've
heard of a man with regard to his inside ; if he knew
what a complicated machine it is, he would never eat or
drink, or dance, or run, or do anything, for fear of burst-
ing something. So it is with fitters. But we who are
not troubled with such thoughts, we go ahead.
" ' But starting an engine is one thing, and driving of her
is another. Any one, a child, almost, can turn on steam
and turn it off again ; but it ain't everyone that can keep
an engine well on the road, no more than it ain't every
one who can ride a horse properly. It is much the same
thing. If you gallop a horse right off for a mile or two,
you take the wind out of him, and for the next mile or
two you must let him trot or walk. So it is with an en-
gine. If you put too much steam on to get over the
ground at a start, you exhaust the boiler, and then you'll
have to crawl along till your fresh water boils up. The
great thing in driving is to go steady, never to let your
Co EVERYDAY LIFE OJV THE RAIL.
water get too low nor your fire too low. It's the same
with a kettle. If you fill it up when it's about half
empty, it soon comes to a boil again. Another thing :
you should never make spurts unless you are detained
and lose time. You should go up an incline and down
an incline at the same pace. Sometimes a driver will
waste his steam, and when he comes to a hill, he has
scarcely enough to drag him up. When you're in a train
that goes by fits and starts, you may be sure there is a
bad driver on the engine. That kind of driving frightens
passengers dreadfully. When the train, after rattling
along, suddenly slacks speed when it ain't near a station,
it may be in the middle of a tunnel, the passengers think
there is danger. But generally it's because the driver has
exhausted his steam.' "
"Barney Butz is the oldest locomotive engineer in the
United States. He now runs an engine on the Reading
(Pa.) Railroad. He was born in Conyngham, Luzerne
county, Penn., about the year 1835 or 1836. In 1847
he was running an engine from Parryville to Weatherly,
the ' planes ' being then in operation. The cars were
drawn up to the planes by a stationary engine. I am on
the Reading Road now, and they tell a good story of
Barney's readiness in case of an emergency. One day
his engine would not steam well, and he was likely to be
overtaken by a passenger train before he could reach the
switch. Seeing a good-sized porker beside the track, he
jumped from the engine the train moving slowly
seized the pig, cut its throat, and stuffed it into the fur-
nace. The fat of the pig was better than kindling wood,
and in a very short time, Barney and his train were out of
danger."
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 6 1
ACROSTIC.
Lo! the long railway train winding and narrow,
Over the tressle-work into the city,
Coming too sure with the speed of an arrow,
On to its wreck without warning or pity.
Moments seem passing the mastery of mortal
Only a miracle retrieves the error ;
Thunders the bridge at its innermost portal,
Increasing and nearing and deepening in terror,
Voices would reach to the gateway of heaven
Ere this wild roar by a cry could be riven.
Even now, steady now, swift go as lightning,
Nerving his arm with its mightiest force,
Gigantic the sinews like iron thews tightening,
In driving the mad engine back on her course.
Now answers the signal of danger already
Easier backward now, safer and faster
Every soul blessing the courage so steady,
Redeeming their awe-stricken lives from disaster.
VI.
guelden's last drink.
AN ENGINEER'S CONFESSION.
aka:
HAVE travelled this road every day of my
life, ever since it was laid, in charge of the
San Francisco, the prettiest and best engine on
the line. It was a South-western road, running,
as we will say, from A. to Z. At A. my mother lived, at
Z. I had the sweetest little wife in the world, and a baby,
the very image of its pa. I had always had a dollar or
two put by for a rainy day, and the boys spoke of me
as an odd kind of a man. To be shut up with an en-
gine, watching with all your eyes, and heart and soul,
don't make a conscientious man talkative, and I never
squandered my leisure, spinning yarns and listening to
railway jokes in the Round-House. My wife's name was
Josephine, and I called her 'Joe.'
"I never belonged to any of the railway clubs or other
organizations, and never should, if it hadn't been for
Granby. Granby was a nephew of our division super-
intendent, and it's a failing with we men of the Road that
GUELDEN'S LAST DRINK. 63
we like to be noticed by the fellows at headquarters, if
only permitted to touch the hem of their garments. Gran-
by was a showy fellow, and often rode with me from
A. to Z. He had a good opinion of me, and as far as I
know, we were good friends. Once he said to me :
" 'You ought to belong to the Railway Scientific Club,
Guelden.'
" ' Never heard of it,' said I.
" ' We meet once a fortnight,' he replied, ' and have a
jolly good time. We want practical, thinking men of
your sort, and I'll propose you, if you like.'
" I was fond of such things, and I had ideas that I fan-
cied might be worth something. But the engineer don't
have many nights or days to himself, and the club would
have one evening a fortnight from Joe, I said.
" ' I will ask her. If she likes it, yes.'
" 'Ask whom ? ' he said.
"'Joe,' said I.
" 'If every man had asked his wife, every man's wife
would have said, " Can't spare you, my dear," and we
should have no club at all,' said Granby.
" But I made no answer. At home I told Joe. She
said:
" ' I shall miss you, Ned ; but you do love such things,
and if Granby belongs to it they must be superior men.'
" So I said yes, and Granby proposed me. Thursday
fournight I went with him to the rooms. The real busi-
ness of the evening was the supper.
" I had always been a temperate man. I did not know
what effect wine would have on me, but coming to drink
more of it than I ever had before at the club table, I
found it put steam on. After so many glasses I wanted
to talk, and after so many more, I did.
64 GUELDEN'S LAST DRINK.
" I seemed like somebody else, the words were so ready.
My ideas came out and were listened to. I made sharp
hits and indulged in repartee, told stories, and even came
to puns. I heard somebody say, ' Granby, by George,
that's a man worth having. I thought him dull at first.'
Yet I knew it was better to be quiet Ned Guelden, with
his ten words an hour, than the wine-made wit I was.
" I was sure of it when three months after I stumbled up-
stairs to find Joe waiting for me with her baby on her
breast.
" ' You've been deceiving me,' said Joe ; ' I suspected
it, but wasn't sure. A Scientific Club couldn't smell
like a bar-room.'
" ' Which means that I do,' said I.
" ' And look like one,' said Joe, as she locked herself
and baby up in the spare-bedroom.
" One night I was dressed in my Sunday suit, ready to
go to the Club, when Joe stood before me.
" ' Ned,' said she, ' I never had a fault to find with you
before. You've been kind and good and loving always ;
but I should be sorry we ever met if you go on in this
way. Don't ask what I mean you know.'
" ' It's only Club night,' said I.
" ' It will grow,' said she.
" Then she put her arms around my neck.
"'Ned,' said she, 'do you think a thing so much like
a bolted and strapped down demon as steam is, is fit to
put into the hands of a drunken man ? And some day,
mark my words, not only Thursday night, but all the days
of the week will be the same. I have often heard you
wonder what the feelings of an engineer who has about
the same as murdered a train full of people, must be,
and you'll know if you don't stop where you are. A
GUELDEN'S LAST DRINK. C$
steady hand and a clear head have been your blessing all
these years. Don't throw them away. Ned, if you
don't care for my love, don't ruin yourself.'
" My little Joe. She spoke from her heart, and I bent
over and kissed her.
" 'Don't be afraid, child ; I'll never pain you again.'
" And I meant it; but at twelve o'clock that night I felt
that I had forgotten my promise and my resolution.
"I couldn't get home to Joe. I made up my mind to
sleep on the Club sofa, and leave the place for good the
next day. Already I felt my brain reel as it had never
done before. In an hour I was in a kind of stupor. It
was morning. A waiter stood ready to brush my coat.
I saw a grin on his face. My heart seemed ready to
burst ; my hand trembled ; I looked at my watch ; I had
only just five minutes to reach the depot !
"Joe's words came to my mind. Was I fit to take
charge of an engine ? I was not fit to answer. I ought
to have asked some sober man. As it was, I only
caught my hat and rushed away. I was just in time.
" The San Francisco glistened in the sun. The cars
were filling rapidly. From my post I could hear the
people talking bidding each other good-by, and promis-
ing to write and come again. Among them was an old
gentleman I knew by sight one of the shareholders ; he
was bidding two timid girls adieu.
" ' Good-by, Kitty ; good-by, Lue,' I heard him say ;
'don't be nervous. The San Francisco is the safest en-
gine on the line, and Guelden the most careful engi-
neer. I would not be afraid to trust every mortal to
their keeping. Nothing could happen wrong with the
two together.'
" I said, ' We'll get through it somehow, and Joe shall
66 GUELDEN'S LAST DRINK.
never talk to me again. After all, it was easy enough.'
I reeled as I spoke. I heard the signal. We were off.
" Five hours from L. to D.; five hours back again. I
knew now, that on the last run I should be myself again.
I saw a flutter, and never guessed what it was, until we
had passed the down train at the wrong place. Two
minutes more, and we should have had a collision.
Somebody told me, and I laughed. I heard the share-
holder say, respectfully :
" ' Of course, Mr. Guelden, you know what you are
about ? '
" Then I was alone, and wondering whether I should go
faster or slower. I did something, and the cars rushed on
at a fearful rate. The same man who had spoken to me
before was standing near me. I heard the question
"'How many miles an hour are we making?' I
didn't know.
" Rattle, rattle, rattle ! I was trying now to slacken the
speed of the San Francisco. I could not remember what
I should do was it this or that faster or slower? I
was playing with the engine like a child.
" Suddenly there was a horrible roar a crash. I was
flung somewhere. I was in the water. By a miracle I
was sobered, not hurt. I gained the shore. I stood
upon the ground between the track and the river's edge,
and there gazed at my work.
"The engine was in fragments, the cars in splinters;
dead and dying and wounded were strewn around men
and women and children old age and youth. There
were groans and shrieks of despair. The maimed cried
out in pain ; the uninjured bewailed their dead ; and a
voice, unheard by any other, was in my ear, whispering
* Murder.'
GUELDEN'S LAST DRINK. 67
" The news had gone to A., and people came thronging
down to find their lost ones. Searching for an old man's
daughter, I came to a place under the trees, and found
five bodies lying there, all in their rigid horror an old
woman, a young one, a baby, and two tiny children.
Was it fancy was it pure fancy, born of my anguish
they looked like oh, Heaven ! they were my wife, my
children all cold and dead.
" How did they come on the train ? What chance had
brought this about ? No one could answer. I groaned,
I screamed, I clasped my hands, I tore my hair, I gazed
in the good old face of her who gave me birth, on the
lovely features of my wife, on my innocent children. I
called them by name ; there was no answer. There
never could be there never would be.
" A whistle / Great God ! Onward up the track thun-
dered another train ! Its red eyes glared upon me ; I
threw myself before it ; I felt it crush me to atoms !
" ' His head is extremely hot,' said somebody.
" I opened my eyes and saw my wife
" ' How do you feel ? ' said she ; ' a little better ? '
" I was so rejoiced and astonished by the sight of her
that I could not speak at first. She repeated the ques-
tion.
" ' I must be crushed to pieces,' said I, ' for the train
went over me ; but I feel no pain.'
" 'There he goes about that train again,' said my wife.
"Why, I tried to move there was nothing the matter
with me. I was in my own room ; opposite to me a crib
in which my child was asleep. My wife and child were
safe. Was I delirious, or what could it be ?
" ' Joe,' I cried, ' tell me what has happened.'
68 GUELDEN'S LAST DRINK.
"'It's nine o'clock,' said Joe. 'You came home in
such a state from the Club that I couldn't wake you.
You weren't fit to manage steam, and risk people's lives.
The San Francisco is half way to A., I suppose, and you
have been frightening me half to death with your dread-
ful talk.'
" And Joe began to cry.
" It was only a dream ; only an awful dream. But I
had lived through it as though it were a reality.
" ' Is there a Bible in the house, Joe ? ' said I.
" ' Are we heathens ? ' asked Joe.
" ' Give it to me this moment, Joe.'
" She brought it, and I put my hand on it and took the
oath (too solemn to be repeated here), that what had
happened never should occur again. And if the San
Francisco ever comes to grief, the verdict will not be, as
it has so often been, ' The engineer was drunk.' "
VII.
THE MANIAC'S RIDE.
BY A RETIRED ENGINEER.
JT is ten years ago, boys, since that little affair
happened near the P Bridge, but it never
comes back to my mind without making me
shudder. I was running old No. 20 between
H and B at that time, and was regarded as a
careful and reliable man. The road was in splendid con-
dition ; my engine had just come out of the shop,
thoroughly repaired, and altogether the duties were
pleasant and easy enough, as duties in our line go.
" It was on a Sunday morning, I remember, and I had
backed down from the round-house to the station at
H , coupled on to my train, and was waiting for the
passengers to finish their breakfast. My wife had
brought the children down to the depot, as was her cus-
tom every Sunday morning, and I was playing with them
on the platform, while the passengers came hurrying out,
one by one. I was just giving one of my youngsters a
7o
THE MANIAC'S RIDE.
parting hug, and wondering why my fireman stayed so
long at his breakfast, when all of a sudden I saw a man
a stranger to me jump stealthily but quickly upon the
engine and pull the throttle ! The wheels creaked, the
train moved, and the loiterers on the platform jumped
hurriedly on board. Quick as thought, I placed the
child in its mother's arms, and in another instant was face
to face with the intruder.
" A single look sufficed to tell me that he meant mis-
chief. A man of herculean stature, bareheaded, and
scantily attired, with eyes glaring like coals of fire, with
long hair falling down upon his shoulders, with sleeves
rolled up above his elbows, displaying brawny, muscular
arms, and with a wild, excited laugh upon his counte-
nance, was before me, pulling the bell-rope violently, and
taking apparently but little notice of my presence. In less
time than I have been telling it, I had closed with him.
" 'What are you doing ? Are you crazy ? ' I cried.
" He looked at me for a minute, with that same devil-
ish leer in his eye, and pushing me back as if I were a
feather, said, abstractedly :
" 'Don't annoy me now, I beg of you ; I'm busy.'
" I summoned all my strength, and rushed upon him
again, for by this time the train was well in motion, and
the rate of speed was momentarily increasing.
" He let go of the bell-rope, and, as I seized him by
the arms, grasped mine in turn, and holding me in a vice-
like grip, looked me full in the face.
" ' Didn't I tell you,' said he, in a harsher voice than
before, ' that I didn't wish to be annoyed.'
" I glanced into his face closely as he spoke, and then,
for the first time, the horrible truth broke in upon me
the man was mad I
THE MANIAC'S RIDE. J\
" I felt a shudder run through my veins, and great drops
of cold sweat stood out upon my face, as in a single mo-
ment I realized the dreadful danger before me. I thought
of my little children, whose kisses were yet warm upon
my face, and of that long train behind us, full of passen-
gers so little suspecting their peril. All the stories I had
ever heard or read of crazy people and their freaks
flashed through my mind in that instant, as I felt myself
pushed backwards to destruction.
"But no ; quietly seating me upon the bench, on the
other side, he loosened his hold, and returned to his post,
saying, in the same abstracted voice as at first :
" 'There, now ! I don't want to be bothered ! '
" By this time we were dashing along at a pretty rapid
rate, and I could see that he knew how to handle the
engine almost as well as I did myself. I jumped to my
feet, and a third time he leaned forward to reach the
throttle lever.
" ' For God's sake, stop her ! ' I exclaimed. ' Who are
you ? '
" ' Me ? ' he answered, with a quiet laugh. ' I'm a
practical engineer, working in the interests of science.
I've studied for years, and years, and years, and now I
want to make an experiment ! Don't interrupt me ! '
" He gave me another look, full of wild determination,
and then burst into a fit of hilarious laughter.
" ' Good ! good ! good ! ' he cried. ' But she'll do
better, better, better, by and by ! Now she flies ! '
" He gave the throttle lever another jerk ; the engine
shot away faster than ever, and trees, telegraph poles,
fences, and houses went by like lightning.
" For a moment I sunk down upon my seat in utter
despair. To measure strength with the madman was, I
J 2 THE MANIAC'S RIDE.
saw, simply suicidal. A struggle could only result in cer-
tain destruction to myself, and probable destruction to
the train and all on board of it. But one possible chance
of regaining control of the engine presented itself, and
that would require ail the nerve and coolness I had in
me. I must draw him into conversation, and watch for
my opportunity to gain advantage either of his credulity
or his vanity sufficiently to induce him to give me his
place. Once there, I must trust to Providence and my
own courage to prevent further mischief.
" I scanned him closer than ever for a moment or two.
He seemed to have entirely forgotten my presence ; now
jumping up, and laughing, and clapping his hands ; now
letting more steam on ; now looking eagerly out ahead,
and murmuring : ' Better, better, better still ! '
"My heart was thumping against my chest, as I said:
" ' You seem to understand your business pretty well,
anyhow, my friend. Been long at it ? '
" He looked at me, looked away again, but did not
answer.
" ' I see you are a good practical engineer, as you say,'
I continued. 'How long have you been at the busi-
ness ? '
" ' Years, and years, and years, I tell you ! ' he an-
swered. ' It was I who fitted out Pegasus, the winged
steed. I who gave that fellow, Icarus, the wax wings ;
but he flew too near Old Sol, and they melted and let
him down into the water. Ha ! ha ! ha ! '
" * I wish I only had your experience at it,' said I ;
' what a team we'd make together, pulling in the cause of
science, eh ? '
" A new light, an expression of unspeakable delight,
lighted up his face as, catching my words, he turned to-
THE MANIAC'S RIDE.
n
ward me and, looking me full in the face, answered, but
no longer abstractedly :
" ' Are you for science, too ? '
" ' Science, every inch of me ! ' said I.
" * Give us your hand ! ' and he shook mine with a fer-
vor which sent a tingle to my very collar-bone. ' Hurrah
for science. You're the man I've been searching for with
a lantern these thousand years. You can help me. But '
and he leaned and whispered in my ear, so distinctly
that I could hear every word and letter of it above the
racket around us ' can you keep a secret ? '
" ' Certainly I can,' I replied, while a sort of creeping
horror stole over me, as I felt his hot breath upon my
face.
" ' You swear you can ? ' he continued, looking inquir-
ingly into my face.
" ' I swear I can ! ' said I, with a desperate effort, look-
ing back at him.
" ' Because,' he grated out, between his teeth, ' if I
thought you meant to betray me, I'd tear your tongue
out!'
" ' Never fear one man of science betraying another,'
I answered, with a sickly attempt at bravery. ', I'm your
man ! '
" ' Well, then, mind what I say,' said the madman, ap-
parently reassured, and pulling from his coat pocket a
bunch of dirty papers, scrawled all over with lead-pencil
marks. 'Here's my secret, the result of five hundred
years' hard study. To you, as a friend of science, I will
impart it. But remember your promise ! '
" By this time I felt terribly uneasy not only in appre-
hension of my strange companion's intentions, but on
account of the alarming rapidity at which we were mov-
4
74
THE MANIAC'S RIDE.
ing. The madman was crafty enough to keep his position
upon the foot-board, and I saw there was no hope of
stealing a march upon him in that direction.
" ' Now, you see,' he went on to say, ' a tangent from a
parabolic curve goes on to infinity,' and he held up one
of the soiled scrawls before me, pointing out the marks
upon it with his long, craw-like fore-finger ; ' and infinity
is what ? Do you know ? No ; but you shall. Do I know ?
Yes ; and, in the cause of science, I am going to show you.
Speed, in locomotion, tends toward infinity. Infinity
is unknown. The higher the speed, consequently, the
greater the proximity to the unknown. Down where I've
been studying, they wouldn't let me build my engine to
make this experiment with. So,' and here his voice fell
to a horrid whisper again, ' I came away secretly the
other night, and now ha ! ha ! ha ! I've got a good
engine of my own ! Speed, speed, speed is what we
want ! By and by we'll be ready for the tangent ; then
infinity, and then our fortune is made forever ! '
" I saw that hope was fast disappearing. His inten-
tion plainly was to put the engine to her highest speed,
and send us whizzing over an embankment at the first
short curve. We had gone nine miles already, although
only thirteen minutes had elapsed since we left H .
I nerved myself for a final effort.
" ' Come,' said I, 'your secret is a wonderful one, and
now that I know it, I will give you all my help to carry
out your plan. But you have overlooked one important
point. The tangent which will quickest bring us to what
we are after infinity must be directed from a point as
near as possible to the base of the cone. That point we
cannot discern, unless you, with your superior insight
into the principle involved, take a position upon the out-
THE MANIAC'S RIDE.
75
side of the engine, and give me the signal - when to send
her off.'
"The idea seemed to strike him.
" ' Good ! better ! best ! ' be exclaimed, clapping his
hands, and shaking mine. But mind, don't take your
eyes off me ! '
" ' That I shan't,' I said, fervently, as he opened the
window, and made a movement as if to pass out upon
the running board.
"My "heart beat high again, but this time with hope
and anticipation. Once outside, he would be at my
mercy long enough for me to whistle down brakes, shut
off steam, and reverse the engine.
"Alas ! suddenly he turned, slamming the window, and
then, glaring upon me like a demon, he hissed :
" ' You've betrayed me ! What did I tell you ? '
" I trembled with horror.
"'Come, come,' I said; 'no I haven't. Go ahead.
See ! there's the curve just ahead. Hurry, be quick, or
the chance is gone ! '
" ' I say you've betrayed me, and I'm going to kill
you ! I heard you whisper my secret a moment ago ! '
and he came toward me with all the frenzy and savage
cruelty of a maniac.
"'Now,' thought I, 'one last struggle for life or
death,' and mustering all my force, I struck him a fear-
ful blow with my clenched fist upon the forehead.
" Still he neared me. I felt his long, bony hands in
my hair. I staggered. I fell backward ; my head struck
against something hard, my eyes grew dim, and I lay in-
sensible."
The narrator paused for a moment, and passed his
great rough hand across his forehead, as if to drive away
76 THE MANIAC'S RIDE.
the terrible memories his story had recalled. His com-
panions, mute with eager interest, only drew themselves
nearer as he resumed :
" I couldn't have lain there half an hour for, when I
came to, the first object that met my view in the distant
landscape was the white tower of the Methodist Church
in N . I was lying on my side, between the engine
and tender, with my head half over the edge.
" Weak and exhausted from loss of blood, which was
still flowing from the wound on my head, I lay there
helpless and hopeless. My eyes wandered to where the
madman was still standing. I saw him with heightened
wildness on his countenance, his long hair floating in the
wind behind, his eye glancing eagerly out ahead, his lips
muttering words to me incoherent and meaningless.
Now and then he would dance, and clap his hands with
a fiendish joy, then settle quietly down again to his
sullen mutterings.
" The rate of speed at which we were moving was abso-
lutely frightful not less, I should think, than a mile a
minute and I feared every instant the crash would send
me, madman, engine, everything, whirling to perdi-
tion.
" As each moment my faculties grew stronger, I began
to realize, in all its force, the horror of my situation.
What if he should discover in me signs of returning life ?
He would, without a doubt, throw me from the train, or
dash my brains out. Meanwhile, where was the con-
ductor? Perhaps he had been left behind at H .
The brakemen could not some of them come to rescue
me ? Had not our wild speed, our neglect of the usual
stoppages, told those on the train that something was
certainly wrong ? And why, then, did they not come to
THE MANIAC'S RIDE.
77
see what it was ? Surely an end must soon come of this
horrible affair, in some way or another.
" Heavens ! of a sudden I remembered a circumstance,
the thought of which chilled me to the very bones,
and well might make me cry out in expostulation and
terror to the terrible being before me. We were rapidly
approaching P bridge, spanning the awful chasm
through which, far below, the T river leaps and
plunges, in three successive falls, to the quiet level of the
valley "below. I had in my pocket at that moment a
copy of a telegraphic order from the division superin-
tendent, stating that the westward-bound track on the
bridge would that morning be taken up for repairs, and
directing all trains to switch off on approaching the spot,
and cross on the eastward-bound track.
" In a moment all the horror of the impending disaster
broke upon me. Should this maniac persist in his mad
purpose only ten minutes longer, he and I, and all of us,
would be precipitated headlong downward through the
air, crashing through the timbers, cars and engine with
us, to be dashed to atoms upon the pitiless, jagged rocks
below. Oh, how I prayed in that moment for forgiveness
for all the wickedness of the past ! With what unspeaka-
ble tenderness I recalled the parting words of those dear
ones whom I might never see again, and how I inwardly
asked God to watch over them after I was gone ! I won-
dered whether they would ever find us, or know the real
cause of the catastrophe. Eagerly, I watched the famil-
iar landmarks flitting by, as on, on, on, we dashed, faster
and faster, toward the death and destruction which now
seemed all but inevitable.
"I heard a cry of wild joy from my companion, as,
gliding like lightning around a curve, the valley, and, in
78 THE MANIAC'S RIDE.
the distance, the massive bridge, were first disclosed to
his view.
" ' Now ! now ! ' he shouted. ' Here we are come, at
last ! Science, and infinity, and all the unknown, are
mine, mine, mine, forever ! He betrayed me, did he ?
and he died like a dog ! Ha ! ha ! ha ! '
"And he danced and screamed with a horrid zest,
which, mocking my anguish and terror, only made me
more desperate. I tried to move a pang of agony shot
through every nerve, and muscle, and fibre in my body.
I sunk down again, in utter despair, and closed my eyes,
waiting for death to come and end it all !
" Crack crack whiz whiz a scream a shout
another crack another whiz ! I opened my eyes once
more. The madman had fallen upon his knees, and
with the expression of a demon incarnate upon his face,
his two bared arms stretched above his head, his power-
ful form writhing in horrible contortion, was gnashing his
teeth, while his eyes protruded from their sockets, foam
oozed from his lips, and a stream of blood, ever so small,
trickled down his shirt front.
"'Come! come! come quickly!' I called out, as
loudly as I could ; but my feeble voice was drowned in
the clatter, and I saw the monster, weak and wounded
as he was, turn and crawl upon his knees toward me.
" ' Come ! for God's sake, come ! ' I screamed ; but
by that time his clutches were upon my throat, and I
looked upward to the clear blue morning sky above us,
to feel my breath growing slower and slower, as the cruel
grip grew tighter and tighter upon me.
" The coarse, talon-like grip relaxed of a sudden, the
THE MANIAC'S RIDE.
79
din grew less and less, and the welcome shriek of the
whistle for down brakes sounded in my ears like the
voice of a messenger from God, calling me back to life,
and loved ones, and all that was dear. I felt myself
lifted up like a child in two pairs of stout, friendly arms.
I heard sobs, and shouts of joy, and the movement of
many feet about me, and a voice whispered lovingly in
my ear :
"' Saved V"
VIII.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
AMONG THE CONDUCTORS, BAGGAGE-MEN, TICKET-AGENTS, AND EXPRESSMEN.
At " Jack Short's " The Conductor in his Palace Anecdotes and
Incidents, Humorous and Pathetic "This Seat is engaged"
The Major and his Dog A Noble Girl " Littlejohn's killed."
" Hanna ! " A Non-Conductor Whitaker's Legacy A Tem-
perance Pass How Sadd punched a Ticket Eckert and the
Superintendent A Peanuts' Rhyme The Road to Dathroit
"Ridin' on it out " The Passenger with the Small-pox Brad-
ley's Girl A Square Meal How a Corpse went to a Dance
Dead-heads An Elopement A Birth on the Cars Kissing in
the Tunnel Drury's Half-fares Richardson's Lunatic A
Blockhead by Express Midnight Murder Checking an Edi-
tor's Baggage How a Baggage-man's Scheme exploded Petty-
bone's Counterfeit Reevy's Ticket Clerk A Kansas Superin-
tendent Left Behind S'cat ! Polly Partington's First Ride
The Commercial Traveller and the Maid The Postal Service,
etc., eta
HE author makes bold to affirm, that there is a
"Jack Short's" on every respectable American
railway. A pleasant, quiet place, where there
are light wines, and ale on draught, in the front
room, and a constant draught of fresh air in the rear
apartment. Pipes, tobacco, cigars, an easy-chair, and a
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 8 1
place for your feet. In winter, a warm fire, hot water,
heavier wines, and oysters stewed and fried. An institu-
tion as necessary to a road, as important a part of the
running gear as the turn-table, round-house, or switch.
Here conductors side-track when off duty, and run into
a cosey little round-house of their own. At these places
of rendezvous, time-tables are ignored, special and gen-
eral orders powerless. The edicts of the train dis-
patcher cannot enter here, and invitations from super-
intendents to "come" or "go" are of no avail. The
conductor is king, and this is his palace. He is running
on his own time, with plenty of margin ; no wild trains
on his track, nothing to follow or to flag. His engineer,
fireman, and brakeman, surround him, bound together
by railway ties, stronger than wood, and firmer than steel.
It is his little court, where manhood, experience, and
faithful service command homage, and right gallantly
do these brave hearts yield to each that which is his
due.
"Jack Short's," a popular resort for Western conduct-
ors, has numerous branches. At Chicago, Indianapolis,
St. Louis, Omaha, Cincinnati; at "Jim Turner's," on
the Erie ; Jersey City, or the West End ; at Mills', on the
Hudson River ; Jewett's office, or the St. Nicholas, at
Kansas City ; in Mr. C. N. Lee's room at Quincy ; at
"Billy Thompson's," at Dayton, Ohio, etc., etc., wher-
ever there is a railroad and a "run," there is a "Jack
Short's," where conductors meet to gossip and joke, and
mayhap, live over the horrors of hairbreadth escapes.
So we join the conductors of various roads at " Jack
Short's" to-night, and, getting a good seat, will ride with
them as far as they go. The author does not give the
names of roads represented in every instance, his object
4*
82 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
being merely to introduce the men themselves, who re-
late their incidents in their own way.
"Beer for the boys, Jack some matches, and we'll
commence our yarns."
" ' That seat is engaged,' said a pretty young maid,
As I entered a carriage one day ;
' To whom ? ' 'A young gentleman,' pouting, she said ;
1 Then where is his baggage, I pray ? '
" Her ruby lips opened like rosebuds in spring,
Her face in deep blushes was dyed,
As muttering crossly, ' You hateful old thing !
Why, I am his baggage,' she cried."
" That was on my train," said Howland, " coming out
of Burlington ; but I never supposed it would be told in
that way."
" I run out of Indianapolis, and you may call me
'Major' for the want of a better name. I am as fond
of dogs as Cole Wilson is of cats. Lately I came in pos-
session of a Newfoundland, which didn't turn out well,
and I was at a loss to know how to dispose of it. In
this emergency a happy thought struck me ; and on my
next trip the dog occupied a berth in the baggage-car,
till the train reached a little station away down the
road.
"As the station-agent appeared, I said, 'Here, Jones,
take out this dog, and keep it till the owner calls for it ! '
" ' All right ! any charges ? '
" ' Collect fifty cents ; you can keep the money if you
want to.'
" Next time I passed that way the agent hailed me :
" ' Look here, nobody's called for that dog yet ! '
" ' You don't say so ! Well, the owner '11 be along soon.'
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 83
" < Whaf s his name ? '
" 'Name? Oh, his name's Smith.'
" ' But 'spose he don't call ? '
" ' Oh, if he don't call, you can just keep the dog, you
know.'
"At last accounts, Jones was keeping the dog and
cursing the delinquent Smith."
" My name is Nelson, and I run out of Albany. I
don't mind telling the thing now, but I felt pretty cheap at
the time. I sometimes think the Company ought to allow
a conductor a little heart and judgment occasionally, but
it's the safest plan, perhaps, in the long run, to obey the
rules.
"As my train was approaching the Suspension Bridge
near Niagara, on this occasion, I found a young man
who could not pay his fare. The poor fellow was evi-
dently in the last stage of consumption, and emaciated
to skeleton proportions. He sat by himself, and his
eyes were red, as though he had been weeping. But the
laws of the Company could not be transgressed, and he
must leave the train. No conductor knows when a
detective may be watching him, so I led him with a
heavy heart from his seat. He was all shivering with
the cold, and no one moved or spoke until we reached
the door. Here a beautiful girl arose from her seat, and
with bright, sparkling eyes, demanded the amount charged
for the poor invalid. I told her eight dollars, and the
young and noble girl took that amount from her pocket-
book, and kindly led the sick youth back to his seat.
The action put to shame several men who had witnessed
it, and they offered to ' pay half,' but the whole-souled
woman refused the assistance. When our train arrived
in Albany, the young protectress gave him money enough
84 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
to keep him over night, and send him to his friends the,
next morning.
" 'What was her name, Nels?'
" Well, as I said before, I felt a little cheap over the
part I was forced to play in the affair, so I hunted her
up, and on the first leisure evening, called to return the
eight dollars. This she indignantly refused, but I sub-
sequently persuaded her to accept of a suitable present
at my hands.
"'Well, what else?'
" I finally persuaded her to take me too, and she's just
the best wife and mother on the road."
" My name is Peters, for that matter, and I am only a
country conductor, running a train that is freight one day
and passenger the next. I am brakeman and switch-
man besides. A couple living at Le Mars, Iowa, a station
on our road, were anxious to have their child baptized.
One day I had a priest aboard, and seeing him on the
platform as we came into Le Mars, this couple got on the
train, and the child was baptized while we were going at
the rate of thirty miles an hour. The happy couple got
off at the next station, and took the first train homeward-
bound."
"You remember Littlejohn, don't you, boys?" asked
Neal Ruggles.
"Yes, he's running now on the Central California,
Bob Matteson's road."
" Littlejohn was coming down the grade pretty fast
one trip, with his sweetheart aboard, when the engine ran
into a lot of solid beef, throwing her off the track, tem-
porarily, but doing no other damage. Fragments of one
of the animals came through the window, door, or some
opening, and lodged in sweetheart's lap.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
85
" ' Oh, Littlejohn's killed ! ' she screamed, jumping
frantically to her feet, and surveying the bloody remind-
ers. 'Oh, Littlejohn's killed he's killed/' and she re-
fused to be comforted until Littlejohn made his appear-
ance, and took her in charge."
"I am on the Pittsburg, Fort Wayne, and Chicago
Road," said Watson, "and we have a station called
' Hanna''in honor of a deceased citizen of Fort Wayne.
"When we stopped there the other day, my brakeman
thrust his head inside the door, as usual, and called out
'Hanha,' loud and long. A young lady, probably en-
dowed with the poetic appellation of Hannah, supposing
he was addressing her, and shocked at his familiarity on
so short an acquaintance, frowned like a thunder-cloud,
and retorted, ' Shut your mouth ! '
" He shut it ! "
" ' Old' fatty Hurlbut, of the New York Central, used
to carry a heap of brine with him on his trips, both inside
and out. He was finally discharged, and going home
one day, found that his wife had caused the lightning-rods
to be taken off his house and sold.
" 'Why did you do that? ' said he ; ' ain't you afraid
you'll be struck with lightning?'
" 'Not when you are around,' she replied; 'ain't you
a non-conductor ? ' "
" Here, Jack," said one, " bring us the slops on that ;
it's a little too old and thin."
" I am a brakeman on the Erie Road, and they call me
' Ambrose,' for short. I thought I would turn in a joke
on Horace W. Whitaker, my conductor, for you may bet
he'll never tell it on himself. He was collecting tickets
one day from his passengers, and all handed over their
pasteboard, save one old lady who sat next the door, near
$6 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
where I stood. She seemed to be reaching down to get
something she had dropped on the floor. When her time
to pay came, she raised her head and thus addressed the
blushing conductor :
" ' I allurs, when I travels, carry my money in my
stockin', for you sees, nothin' can get at it thar, and I'd
just thank you, young man, just to reach it for me, as I'm
so jammed in that I can't git to it. I forgot to git a ticket
at the depot.' ' Whit ' glanced at the other passengers,
some of whom were laughing at his plight ; one or two
young ladies among them blushed scarlet, and he beat a
sudden retreat, muttering something about not charging
old ladies, etc. His cash was short that trip the fare of
one passenger."
George Alexander " My run leads into a temperance
town, which I will call Alesburg, division headquarters.
Nobody drinks there, and every man, woman, and child is
an apostle of temperance. Every citizen of any promise
is a temperance lecturer, and the wayfarer, bibulously in-
clined, must get a prescription before he can get a drink.
Colic prevails there to an alarming extent, and the hea-
then go about armed with blank prescriptions ready for
immediate service the moment the first symptom comes
on. This model town is out of Chicago about 160 miles,
and I have known leading citizens to lose confidence in
the Alesburg prescriptions, and hurry to the metropolis
for relief.
" Not long ago, a well-known citizen of the ' Burg,' some-
what noted for his crusades against saloons, hunted me
up in Chicago, and wanted to know if I was going to
take the train to Alesburg that night. Told him I was, and
noticed that the symptoms of Prairie Colic were rapidly
developing. He had come in with some of the boy, she
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
*7
said, and staying longer than he had intended, his pass
had run out, and his money too, and his friends had gone
off and left him.'
" ' Very bad predicament indeed,' I said, ' for a respect-
able temperance man of Alesburg, but I don't see what
I can do for you ; the rules are very strict.'
" He replied ' that if he was made acquainted with Mr.
Harris, our general superintendent, he would return his
old pass and ask for a new one.'
" What entitled him to a pass I never knew, but I told
him I would introduce him to Mr. Harris at once, for I
feared the colic was on him in full force. He left me
and returned in about fifteen minutes with at least two
more colics ahead. I accompanied him to Mr. Harris'
office, introduced him, and he presented his pass, asking
politely for a new one.
" Mr. Harris seemed much perplexed in his examina-
tion of that pass. Finally he returned it, remarking, with
a peculiar smile, ' Sir, there is some mistake. This
seems to be a prescription from Dr. , asking Mr. ,
a druggist of Alesburg, to give bearer one quart of what I
suppose stands for whiskey for colic. You have given
me the wrong paper.'
" I left my fellow-citizen searching nervously in his
pockets for his pass, but never learned how he got home."
"I was going to tell you," said George Boynton,
" about the fellow that couldn't come it over Ed. Sadd.
We had a very energetic waterman named Spielman,
who got in the very bad habit of doubling on his pass.
The boys on the main line passenger resolved to stop
it, by punching the pass every time it was shown. The
consequence was, Spielman had to make application for
a new one. The boys, not at all discouraged, soon
88 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
punched up pass No. 2. When S. got his third pass, he
procured a piece of sole leather same size as pass, and
about a quarter of an inch thick. On this he pasted his
pass, and Mr. S. was ahead.
" It so happened that he got on Ed. Sadd's train. Our
conductor, intent on ruining Spiel man's pass, asked, as
usual, to see it. The weighty article was brought forth,
and the conductor's countenance dropped. The water-
man saw his discomfiture, and said with a smile,
" ' I think I have stopped that punching business, Mr.
Sadd there's been a conspiracy against me, you see.'
" ' Yes, I see,' replied Sadd, scratching his head.
' Please raise that window a moment, Mr. Spielman, and
I'll punch your pass ! '
" Mr. Spielman raised the window the train being in
full motion and Sadd, drawing a small pocket pistol,
put a hole through the centre of the pass.
"'How's that for a punch?' said Sadd, as he went
on down the car. The boys call it a Sadd affair."
Major Martin, of the Cincinnati, Hamilton, and Dayton
Road, has a good one on Billy Eckert of the same run :
" Eckert was a telegraph operator in the Burnett House
at Cincinnati, and was very popular with railway men,
many of whom stopped at that elegant establishment.
Different influences were brought to bear, and he finally
got a passenger train on the Cincinnati, Hamilton, and
Dayton, without going through the usual apprenticeship.
" Ira A. Wood was general supt, I think, though
Eckert had never seen him. John Lincoln, who ' learned'
Eckert the road, told him the Company was a new one,
and very jealous of its rules. Nothing would advance
him so rapidly in official favor as a strict adherence to
and enforcement of all rules. ' Billy ' felt a little proud
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
8 9
of his conductor's silver badge, and when he stepped on
his first train at the Cincinnati depot, he felt that he
owned considerable stock in the C, H. & D. As he
approached Glendale, he ran into his first obstruction.
This was a corpulent individual, seated modestly in the
rear end of a car, who was without a pass or a ticket.
Eckert told him the rules were very strict, allowing the
conductor no margin whatever.
" ' How long have you been on the road ? Have you
a card, sir?'
" ' Yes.' Billy had a fresh bunch of cards just printed.
Gave the fat man one ; adding that this was his first
trip.
" ' Ah ! I thought as much. Well, sir, my name is
Wood; I am the general superintendent of this road.
Sometimes carry a pass, but left it to-day in another coat
at my office in Cincinnati.'
" ' Sorry, indeed, sir. But there are so many with the
best of excuses who are put off. The Company assures
me that every one entitled to a pass will have one with
them, and that excuses will not balance my account. I
do not know you, sir, and have no right to know you
without your pass.'
" ' Young man, you are right. I am only going to
Hamilton, twenty miles. The agent there is my brother.
When we get in, we'll go together and see him. Here
is my fare.'
" Eckert took the fare with a trembling hand, with a
vague idea that he had gained a victory, though what
sort of a one, was yet uncertain.
" Now everybody in Hamilton knew old Yankee
Wood, a regular Connecticut wooden nutmegger; six
feet five in his stockings, weighing 300 pounds ; with a
9Q
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
nasal twang that could be heard for miles. This was the
agent, and Eckert had learned about him as soon as any
other big point on the road. When they got to Hamil-
ton, ' Yankee ' was on the platform talking to old man
Earhart, the ticket-agent. Billy's passenger stuck to
him, and as soon as he got out, ' Yankee ' and Earhart
rushed up to him with friendly greeting. Another mo-
ment, and ' Billy ' was formally introduced to the general
supt.
" From that time forward Eckert rose rapidly in the
estimation of that Company, and was gradually promoted
to a high position. Lincoln, for like fidelity to rules and
regulations, was appointed supt. of the branch line, run-
ning from Hamilton through Oxford, to Crawfordsville.
Groat and Pettybone, formerly conductors on the same
line, are now at the head of prominent railways.
" This was at a time when railway men looked upon
superintendents as a species of deity to be worshipped
and feared, and Eckert* s adventure was then considered
remarkable in its way."
Wiers " It is the safest policy in the long run to
obey the rules. This is what my Peanuts * thinks about
it.
"A PEANUTS' RHYME.
" ' I've been a Peanuts now for several years,
I'm running here with maybe you know him Wiers.
I keeps my eyes wide open, and sometimes
Picks up an idea, with my little dimes.
" * I ain't no learning, so to speak ; you see,
The old man got killed in 1863.
And mother she was poor, and I was strong,
And so I've been a Peanuts, right along.
* " Peanuts " Train Boy.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 91
" ' I've seen how things are run, on these 'ere roads ;
I've seen good fellows carry heavy loads ;
There's Coleman passed his only brother in,
And got discharged, for helping his own kin.
" And there was Hawley, he was sent adrift,
For giving a old lady a free lift
A conductor's mother and a friend o' his
You see perliteness ain' t the payin' biz !
" * And so to all employes I would say,
Hog up a pass, or else you pay your way.
The Company's got to hev some sort o' rules,
If you don't obey 'em, you're the derndest fools.
" ' Whole families sometimes come to want and woe
By conductors failin' to spit out a " No."'
On this ere road you dasn't pass yo*r mother,
And if it doesn't suit, why, try another.' "
" There is nothing so funny as the newly arrived son of
the ' Green Isle of the Sea,' who is sure he is not going
to be done, and determined to show the Yankees that he
is as sharp as any ' wan uv 'em.' I am a ticket-agent,
and my office is in the International Hotel at Suspension
Bridge. One of the class mentioned stepped into my
office the other day, and the following dialogue ensued :
Pat " Shure is this the road to Dathroit ?"
Agent " Yes, send you right through."
Pat " Shure it's the rale road I mane, an' none o'
thim chatin' turnpikes."
Agent " You want to go by the Great Western from
Suspension Bridge or the Grand Trunk from Buffalo ?"
Pat " Divil a bit ! I've no clothes for a trunk, let
alone money for the buyin' uv wun."
Agent " Well, you want to go to Detroit and M ?"
Pat " Shure I do."
92
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
Agent "Which line will you take?"
Pat " Och ! any line, shure a fish-line for a throut
or two, perhaps."
Agetit " No, no ; how would you like to go which
way ? "
Pat " How would I like to go ? Shure, like a gen-
tlemon, an' the same way me cousin, Mick Dolan, wint."
Agent " And what way was that ? "
Pat " Shure he said it was a mighty quick way."
Agent "Then you want a ticket on the express line ;
give me ten dollars."
Pat "Tin dollass ! What would I give yees tin dol-
lassfur?"
Agent " For your ticket by the express."
Pat " Shure it's no express I warnt at all ; it's the
way to Dathroit."
Agent " I know that; but there are three 'ways,' as
you call 'em Express, Trunk line, and Central ; what
will you take ? "
Pat (puzzled)" Ah eh ! "
Agent (leaning over the counter) " Come, my good
fellow, what will you take ? "
Pat (glancing at a big ink-bottle that stood on the
counter) "Shure I'll take a dhrop o' whiskey, if it's the
same to yur honor."
(This reply elicited an explosion of laughter from half
a dozen other ticket-agents who were in the same office,
one of whom, thinking to better matters, took Pat in
hand. )
Agent " You want to go to Detroit ? "
Pat " You may say that."
Agent " And you want to buy a ticket ? "
Pat " Divil a bit."
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 93
Agent " What do you want, then ? "
Pat " Shure I warnt to know the way to go to Da-
throit."
Agent "Well, buy a ticket, and that will show you
the way."
Pat " But won't yure show me the way ? "
Agent "But how can you get there without the
ticket ? "
Pat " Shure I mane to walk."
There were two ticket-agents, but no ticket was sold
by this operation.
At the next gathering occurring perhaps a thousand
miles away Barton began :
"I was running on the Cincinnati and Indianapolis
Road, when I came across a queer customer. This was
a tall, awkward Hoosier, who got on at Lawrenceburg
with a heavy valise. I had not been on the road very
long, and Hoosiers were still a novelty, so I watched my
passenger with more than usual interest. He took his
valise to a double seat, and sitting down in one, emptied
the valise in the other. There were yellow-covered
novels enough in that seat to have started an Indiana
book-store. He found room somewhere for his feet, and
taking up one of the books, was fixed for the trip. When
I called for tickets he showed me a life -pass from the
general superintendent, written in the form of a letter,
and of course I thought my passenger was a man of some
consequence. All railway superintendents try to write
illegible hands ; they seem to look upon such an accom-
plishment as an evidence of genius, but the general
superintendent of that road beat them all.
"When I came out of Indianapolis on the return trip,
my Hoosier was on the train in a double seat, books and
94
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
all. So it was for ten or a dozen trips. He was the first
to mount the train, and the last man to leave it.
" Finally I accosted him one day with
" ' Stranger, which way ? '
" ' Any way,' he replied, without taking his eyes off the
book ' Any way, damn the odds ! '
" ' I mean which way are you travelling ; ain't you in
the wrong train ? '
" ' Indianapolis Road, isn't it ? '
" ' Yes,' I answered.
" ' Wal, that's my road ; drive on ! '
"Being a constant customer, I got acquainted with
him at last, and this was his explanation :
" ' You see, this darned road runs through the old man's
farm, down there near Lawrenceburg. When the fellers
was buildin on it, the old man he fit 'em. He sued 'em,
and the gineral super, sent him a family pass for life, and
Ttn a-ridirt on it out / '
"I couldn't get it through me at all, and when we got
to Cincinnati I persuaded him to accompany me to
headquarters, where I assured him the 'gineral super.'
would do the fair thing. An expert there translated his
life-pass, which read as follows :
" Office Gen'l Supt. Cin. & Ind. R. R.
" 'May , 18
" * J. Van Buskirk, Lawrenceburg.
" ' Don't disturb the men, as you value your life ; let them pass
through. Come or send one of your family to this office, and the
matter will be satisfactorily arranged.
" ' Conductors will recognize this as a pass.
"* Gen'l Supt:
" As nobody could read but a word here and there of
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
95
this scrawl, the fellow would have been riding to this day
if I had not brought about that translation."
" I am Charley Nourse, conductor on the New Jersey
Central. During the recent Small-pox terror in the East-
ern cities, the trains out of town were running very full.
I have pulled out of the depot at the foot of Liberty
street (N. Y.) many a time, and left crowds of anxious
people who were unable to get on.
" One trip, after every seat was occupied, an old gentle-
man entered the middle coach and stood up near the
door. As we approached the first station, it was noticed
that there were several suspiciously red spots on his face.
As he stood where every one must see him, the alarm
soon spread. One inquisitive chap asked him if he had
had the small-pox, and he said ' Yes.' There was a gen-
eral scramble among the passengers, all of whom wanted
to get out right there. Another moment and we were at
the station, when the old gentleman had the car to him-
self. I heard of the trouble, of course, and at this junc-
ture cautiously peeped into the car.
" 'How long has it been, my friend, since you recovered
from the small-pox ? '
" ' Well, sir,' replied the victim of the disease, ' I can-
not exactly say, but as near as I can recollect, it was
about thirty-five years ago.' "
" If there is no one to sing a song, I'll read you this
rhyme," said Frank Hughs, of the Quincy run.
" Good, who is it from ? "
"Well, the incident occurred in 1869. It is told by a
well-known conductor Joe Cormick now running on
the Illinois Central."
This promised something extra, and the boys filled
their pipes again.
96 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
"BRADLEY'S GIRL.
"a conductor's rhyme.
" On the Central Road in '69
Time midnight snowing hard,
The plough ahead, in six-feet drift,
Four hours behind by card.
The rails all water thick with ice,
And a high old prairie air,
Our wood and coal fast giving out
Ah! that was a time to swear.
" Some sixty miles from Augustine,
The point to meet my mate
Change engines and obtain supplies,
Then leave him to his fate.
And there to meet the young girl's friends,
But would they bear in mind
That wind and snow were in our front,
And we four hours behind ?
"The berths on Pullman's car were full,
Before we left the Lake ;
And half a dozen Throughs stood up,
All swearing to keep awake.
And every coach had twice its load,
As much as we could pull :
You see the Christmas times were on,
And trains were running full.
" The cold increased, of course, when wood
And coal were getting low ;
My people shivered, and I knew
The worst was coming now.
I felt concerned about the girl,
Though I saw she still slept on ;
I did my best but then, you know,
The odds were ten to one.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 97
'* Maybe you know old Bradley, boys,
Who runs on the Central Branch ;
As true a man as swings a lamp
Well this was his daughter Blanche.
A fair young thing in feeble health,
From a ' Water-Cure' somewhere,
Now coming home at Christmas time,
And riding in my care.
" I got his message, and the girl,
Where we met Jule Coleman's train ;
Just time enough to lift her in,
No leisure to explain.
A way-man kindly gave his seat,
The best that we could do ;
She thanked us, went to sleep, and then
The snow-plough's whistle blew.
'* That was the way it was, you see,
We got four hours behind ;
Snowed in some fifty miles, at least,
From help of any kind.
Maybe the tale is old to you,
But you never heard the end
That's kept a secret with us three
Old Brad. his wife, and friend.
" Eight-twenty was the time, I think,
Yes, Brad, and her friends were there ;
Young girls in black a white-plumed hearse,
And a preacher with a prayer.
God ! what a Christmas Gift was that !
All for the best, 'twas said
The Christmas bells are ringing now,
Maybe some young girl's dead!"
Charlie Fox, of the Erie Road, said that " Jim Turner's
was the first ' Hash Shop' out of New York on that road
5
9 8 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
A passenger stopped there one day and put away twenty
minutes' worth of refreshments. Calling for his bill Jim
struck him for a dollar.
" 'Little high, ain't you, Mr. Turner? ' asked the inno-
cent passenger.
" ' Sir, no, sir. I never drink.'
" ' No, but ain't a dollar a good deal for a meal ? '
" ' Not where a man eats a good deal and takes a des-
sert besides."
"'All right, sir,' and the passenger answered the 'All
aboard.'
"When we got in, my passenger asked me to show him
to the telegraph office. He told the operator he wanted
to telegraph Mr. Turner in regard to meals for himself
and friends, and wrote an unusually long message. The
operator said Mr. Turner would be glad to pay the ex-
pense at the other end. So the message went through,
and must have cost Jim four dollars and a half ! Good
deal for a meal ! "
Fenton " I am only a common express messenger,
but I reckon I've a right to put a word in here, to be
checked off with the rest."
" Certainly, only it is about time now for some more
of that slop. Yes, ten mugs."
" I was running on the Baltimore and Ohio Road the
year before the rebellion, into Parkersburg, West Vir-
ginia, every night. I stopped at the ' United States '
Hotel, kept by a Mr. Tefft, who had a pretty daughter.
I was kind o' sweet on the girl, and would have brought
the package through all right if it hadn't been for the old
man. He didn't like a man who worked for a living.
One night there was to be a big dance at the 'United
States,' and I didn't get a bid. It was the town talk for
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 99
weeks, and was to be a big affair. The crack band of
Harper's Ferry was to furnish the music, and the road and
country were scoured for table luxuries. At Harper's
Ferry the agent put two heavy packages on my run ; one,
a corpse going to Parkersburg for burial, and the other,
a big fiddle double-bass, or whatever they call it going
to the same place. It was marked 'care of the U. S.
Hotel,' and had been forgotten, probably, by the band.
Both freights were boxed in the same way, and, to look
at them, one would have thought that it was a pair of
something going somewhere together, which was true.
Of course, one was a trifle heavier than the other, but
that could only be told by hefting.
" I swung my lamp over those boxes pretty often as we
neared Parkersburg, for I had resolved to play a joke on
that dance. I scraped the marks off the boxes, and
changed the addresses ! As the dance would be under
way when we got in, of course the leader of the band
had arranged to receive his package at the cars, without
waiting for it to go through the city office. Same with
the friends of the corpse.
"After satisfying myself as to these points, I calmly
awaited the last whistle.
" There were two crowds at the depot waiting for me.
As soon as the leader of the band received an affirmative
answer to his inquiry, he gave directions to his men to
' take it quick to the orchestra in the ball-room and open
it, for the music was waiting ;' and after signing my book,
he went away. The friends of the corpse had brought a
hearse, and after scanning the address, lifted the box in,
remarking incidentally, that it ' must be much decayed, it
was so light.'
" I had drawn my month's pay that morning, and after
IO o EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
making out my report, sat down and wrote my resigna-
tion ; giving it to the boys to forward to Baltimore, and
telling the manager that I was ill, and that he must put
an office man on my run in the morning. Then I gath-
ered up my traps at the U. S., left a note for my sweet-
heart, and took a room down at the ' Exchange,' near
the river.
"There wasn't much of a newspaper there then, but it
managed to get a report of the affair next morning. They
opened the corpse in the dining-room, when the dance
was going on, and there was a scene. Musicians tumbled
over each other for there was a dead body there instead
of a fiddle women screamed and rushed from the room ;
lamps fell from the walls well, it just broke the whole
thing up. On the other hand, the bass-viol was buried
with great solemnity, and tears of grief were dropped
upon its silent bosom.
" When I left for Cincinnati, arrangements were being
made to resurrect the one and bury the other; but
whether there were tears and grief enough left for the
second act, I never cared to inquire."
" On the Camden and Amboy, I am known as Bob
Morris. I have noticed that railway companies gener-
ally have quite as large a ' dead-head ' interest to look
after as they care to have. They are continually beset
with applications from a thousand and one sources for
free transportation ; and deal out their passes as liberally
as they may, there seems to be no abatement to the mul-
tiplicity of demand. Newspapers want to be passed free
(which is but just and right, as they always return a
hundred-fold) ; clergymen have their stereotyped pleas
impecuniousness for gratuitous travel, which no Christian
ticket-agent can withstand; educators, engaged in the
*THKV OPlTMED T HT GOV..PSE 1 Ki THf
- PAS C I OO
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. iOI
great work of informing the human mind, must, of course,
have complimentary tickets, else what would become of
the ' institutes ' ? Missionaries to frontier circuits are
also to be duly provided for, or our border civilization
goes up the spout. Then there is the never-ceasing pro-
cession of poor widows, peregrinating aldermen, crippled
soldiers, Sunday-school excursionists, blind beggars, ed-
itorial celebrities, and dead-beats of every pattern, who
have standing and irresistible claims to a first-class pas-
sage, which few superintendents are healthy enough to
deny.
"There was a Methodist Conference somewhere on
my line, and delegates were to assemble from all parts of
the State I don't know but from all parts of the United
States. Half-fare round-trip and complimentary passes
to dignitaries were the order, and trains were crowded to
overflowing. In taking them up from day to day, I had
no suspicion of foul play, until I came upon a counte-
nance that I am sorry to say I had seen often before. I
could not be mistaken; in spite of the Presbyterian
whiskers and white choker, I was sure this countenance
belonged to Captain , the courteous bar-tender at
the Brevoort House, No. n, Fifth Avenue. A quiet,
handsome man, of portly form, dignified in manner,
well-fed, and always clad in unexceptionable black, slow
of speech, and of excellent address, he was well calcu-
lated to deceive as a representative of spiritual affairs.
"'I'll tell you how it was,' he explained, when the
affair was all over. ' A number of those clerical gentle-
men stopped at the house here, over night ; and one of
them, suddenly seized with cramps, rushed in here, beg-
ging for burnt brandy. I gave him a sling, and he
emptied all his pockets hunting for the shekels with
I0 2 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
which to pay. He took your train before I was up next
morning ; and when my boy swept up, he found the gen-
tleman's pass to and from the Conference. He
proved to be a big gun, and I thought I'd shoot her off
once, just for a lark.'
" I remembered then, that the Reverend Dr. had
told me of his loss on the train, and when I explained at
headquarters, and came upon the pass, the joke was on
me."
"Mr. Morris, I salute you," said Mr. J. C. Mullen.
" I was once a conductor on the Camden and Amboy,
myself. I am now General Agent of the Burlington and
Missouri Road, with headquarters at Coneston, Iowa.
We have a little more romance out our way I think than
you. have on Eastern roads. We have a peculiar way
of serving it up too, as witness the following :
" Passengers on Johnnie Miller's western-bound train
were treated recently to an immense sensation. In a
first-class coach were a man and woman, the former,
judging from his appearance, about forty-five years of
age, and evidently a working-man. The woman was a
really pretty girl, not over twenty-one. The twain took
the train at Chariton, Iowa. Soon after leaving that
station, they commenced gradually to lean towards
each other, and 'eyes looked love to eyes that spoke
again ' "
"And all went merry as a marriage bell, eh John?"
"Yes, for a while," answered Mullen. "She was re-
posing with her head on his shoulder, and their hands
were clasped together, as if they feared they would lose
each other during the night. Their overflowing affection
attracted the attention of every other passenger in the
car. They slept sweetly, and all unmindful that Mr.
EVER YD A Y LIFE ON THE RAIL.
103
Man's true and legal wife was in the first car ahead of
the one in which they were riding.
" I ain't worth a cent on a yarn, but of course you un-
derstand that this man was eloping with the handsome
young girl. His neighbors in Chariton knew of his
plans before he left, and raised a sum of money. With
this they purchased a revolver for Mrs. Man, and a rail-
road ticket, which would enable her to follow her runa-
way husband. So, when they stepped into a first-class
coach at the station, she walked into a second-class car,
and they left Chariton on the same train.
"The situation can now be readily comprehended.
Mrs. Man waited until the train had passed two stations,
when she prepared for action. She walked boldly into
the car where the elopers were still in the embrace of
Morpheus.
"The guilty pair were suddenly awakened, and there
stood Mrs. Man, with a revolver pointed straight at her
husband's head. The girl jumped up and rushed into
the sleeping-car, claiming protection from the Pullman
conductor, who locked her up in the state-room. At the
stopping-place, Mrs. Man, who kept guard over her hus-
band, walked him out of the train, and when they were
on the platform of the depot she actually kicked him,
beat him, and stamped on him until she had him
thoroughly subdued. They took the return train for
Chariton, and Mrs. Man is now looking for that girl."
" I am a sleeping-car conductor," said Slossom, "and if
we weren't sworn to keep all secrets, I might give you
boys many a good thing. We have to keep everything
under cover, you know. A country couple, evidently
just married, got on at station, Michigan Central
Road, and I gave them the best room I had. Passing
I0 4 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
through afterwards, I could just hear enough of the whis-
pering to know that they were discussing the novelty of
a bed on the cars.
" Arriving at the end of their journey in the morning, I
entered the car as they were leaving it, just in time to
hear the rustic bride say :
" ' Wal, Josh, ef that's wot they call a burth, I ain't
afeard, be you ? ' "
" I am Henry , well, never mind the rest of the
New York and Erie. Three miles out of Jersey City you
strike the great ' Bergen Tunnel,' one mile long, through
solid rock. If an Irishman were telling this story, he
would say that he had seen a great many funny scenes
occur in that tunnel, only you can see nothing at all for
the darkness. At the same time I am satisfied that such
scenes do occur. Once a gentleman, for some unex-
plained reason, undertook to change the lower portion of
his apparel, during those dark seconds, but made a wrong
calculation as to time ! But kissing seems to be the
choice sport. Kissing in a tunnel, think of that ! I have
been told by a friend that the charm is in the novelty of
the thing. It is the darkness, the rank burglary ; the
nice calculation as to time ; the sudden assault and des-
perate defence; the acute agony of the skirmish line
hair-pins; the carrying of the outer works; the fierce
struggle at the scarp ; the sweetness of the surrender ;
the questionable honor of the victory. Then the horrid
repairs, and the impossible attempt to appear serene be-
fore the other passengers. There's a short lifetime in
the kissing of a girl in a tunnel !
"I had a newly married couple out with me, not long
ago, on the Cincinnati express. I have had a great
"many just such couples in my time, but somehow or
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 105
other these youngsters attracted my attention. Young
man, curly hair, of course ; young lady, blonde, you
know, with that sort of hair that when you and I were
young used to be called tow. Rosy cheeks, full lips ;
well, I should say, a very kissable girl. He was ' awful
sweet on her,' as my brakeman suggested, and she well,
I thought I could see her saying, ' James, be still, every-
body's looking at you.' We were coming to the caver-
nous grove, and James became fidgety. It was plain
that there was a conspiracy, and that the tunnel was to
be made a party to it. Lady thoughtful and evidently
unconscious. Then the wheels rattled and whirred
louder and louder, and in another second we were in the
tunnel ; James, his bride, and all of us !
" We came through all right ; and James was through
too, the bride not quite. The wreck was fearful ! Very
little hair left on the head, but quite a bunch on the seat,
with a lesser wad on James' shoulder. The color had
faded from one of her cheeks, and lodged on his nose.
His neck-tie was swinging from her brooch. She com-
menced the work of reconstruction, looking up at him
under her uplifted arms, as if to say ' See what you
have done before these people.'
" James went for a drink of water ; I saw him with
one hand on the nozzle of the cooler, and the other on a
flask. Half the hair-pins were gone, and when she came
up from the floor, looking so woe-begone and friendless,
I was rude enough to smile. I couldn't help it. She
saw it, and smiled in return, as if to say, ' You know how
it is yourself.' "
"I judge," said a brakeman, "from a rhyme I have
here, that tunnelling of that sort is getting quite com-
mon :
5*
I0 6 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
"IN THE TUNNEL.
" Riding up from Bangor,
On the Pullman train,
From a six weeks' shooting
In the woods of Maine.
Quite extensive whiskers,
Beard, mustache as well,
Sat a ' student feller,'
Tall, and fine, and swelL
" Empty seat behind him,
No one at his side ;
To a pleasant station
Now the train doth glide.
Enter aged couple,
Take the hinder seat ;
Enter gentle maiden,
Beautiful, petite.
" Blushingly she falters :
' Is this seat engaged ? '
(See the aged couple
Properly enraged,)
Student, quite ecstatic,
Sees her ticket's through ; '
Thinks of the long tunnel
Knows what he will do.
" So they sit and chatter,
While the cinders fly,
Till that 'student feller'
Gets one in his eye ;
And the gentle maiden
Quickly turns about
May I, if you please, sir,
Try to get it out?'
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. IO /
" Happy student feller *
Feels a dainty touch ;
Hears a gentle whisper
* Does it hurt you much ? '
Fizz ! ding, dong ! a moment
In the tunnel quite,
And a glorious darkness
Black as Egypt's night.
"Out into the daylight
Darts the Pullman train ;
Student's beaver ruffled
Just the merest grain ;
Maiden's hair is tumbled,
And there soon appeared
Cunning little ear-ring
Caught in student's beard."
" That reminds me of an adventure," followed Drury,
"of a little 'circumstance,' I might say, if there hadn't
been more than one. I run the Pacific express train on
the Pan-Handle Road. We left Columbus, Ohio, one
night, and everything went on as usual, until we got be-
tween Dennison and Steubenville. Then one of my
brakesmen notified me that a lady desired my presence
in the rear car. Now, I am a married man, and proof
against the tricks of fast girls, but I always try to make
ladies comfortable on my train. I found the lady in
some trouble and embarrassment. First, was I a married
man ? Told her I was. Then it transpired that she was
on her way from Cincinnati to join her husband in New
York, and that a crisis was impending, involving the ap-
pearance of an additional passenger. I was taken back
some, of course, but I set to work to make the lady com-
fortable. First, to clear the car of all male bipeds ; next,
I0 8 EVERYDAY LIFE OAT THE RAIL.
to summon from the forward cars all the female assistance
that could be had. The result was a fine girl, weighing,
I should judge, about nine pounds. I always carried a
change of underwear with me, in case of accidents, and
from this supply the ladies soon improvised a wardrobe
for my new passenger. This was all well enough, if the
fates had been satisfied. The train left Steubenville on
time, and was soon thundering through and around the
hills of West Virginia, when I received another shock
from the same battery. This time it was a ' bouncing
boy,' as the old ladies have it twins, by all that is out !
One a Buckeye and the other a Pan-Handler. The re-
mainder of my underclothing went to start this young
rascal on his first trip. Then for fear something might
happen, I sent word to the engineer to hurry up, and we
reached Pittsburg ahead of time. These two half-fares
had no tickets, it is true, but you will admit that it was
but half fair to bring them through ! We conveyed them
tenderly to the Union Hotel at Pittsburg, and forwarded
a telegram to the husband at New York. What effect
the joyful (?) tidings had upon him, has never tran-
spired."
Johnnie Richardson, of the Hannibal & St. Joe,
thought it was his turn.
" If you have ever been over our road, you must re-
member Smith's ' Coupon Shed,' where we stopped
ten minutes for a bowl of sweet milk and a chunk of
brown bread, price ten cents. Nothing could be more
refreshing at a late hour of night ; and I have heard many
a passenger assert that they relished it better than the
most elaborate meal.
" Well, I knew one duck to get too much of it ! On
account of the uncertain ballast of our road, we are re-
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
109
quired to be more particular in enforcing that old rule :
' Passengers are not allowed to stand on the platform.'
This duck insisted upon riding on the platform, and as
fast as I hauled him in off of one, he would dive through
for another. To all my expostulations his only reply was :
" ' Sir, I am looking at the Missouri moon ! '
" I got tired of following him from one platform to
another, and finally, getting him by the arm, I said :
" ' Say, done out here yet ? '
" 'Sir, no, sir ; I am looking at the Missouri milky-way,
now !'
" ' Well,' I replied, ' we are on the down grade now,
and if you stay out here much longer, you'll get into a
milky-way, yourself, and see stars, too.'
" The joke had no effect upon him, although I think
it's about as good a thing as any of you fellows ever got
off!"
" But you didn't get him off," retorted one.
" No ; I sent for a bowl of milk, and sucked him in.
He. was an insane conductor, just discharged from the
T.,'P. & W."
" I was a country pedagogue for awhile, but am now
with the Eastern Express Company. I remark, that the
imagination has an extraordinary influence on the human
mind and body. For instance, we received on board a
Boston boat a long box, addressed to Halifax. It was
marked ' head' 1 a.nd i feet ;' and those who had anything
to do with it drew their own inferences. The hands, in
putting the box on board, detected an unpleasant smell
issuing from it, which was considered nothing unusual.
The smell increased during the passage, so that every-
body shunned the box, and it was got rid of as soon as
the boat reached her wharf. So offensive was the odor
HO EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
that it would not be allowed in the warehouse. The first
teamster sent to remove it from the wharf would not put
it into his wagon, and a second one was so affected by
the smell that he became sick and giddy. Finally, it was
got into the wagon, and hurried to the office, where
somebody determined to investigate. A hatchet was
procured, and one of the boards lifted. A very hand-
some carved Indian figure in wood was disclosed to the
gaze of the crestfallen teamsters, everything about it as
clean and as sweet as a new-planed board. It was in-
tended as a sign for some enterprising tobacconist.
" Well, if you propose to take the express train, here
is another package.
" Mr. C. S. Pomeroy, better known as ' Brick, No. 2/
is the transfer express clerk at the depot in a railroad
centre, which of course must be nameless here. He has
charge of all trains in his line, sleeping in the depot, and
retiring after the departure of the last train. Not long
since, trifling depredations were being committed in the
transfer office ; sneak-thieves found means of entrance,
and opened barrels of crackers, boxes of fruit, etc., baf-
fling all attempts at detection. ' Brick ' finally resolved
upon a grand coup. He piled up some long narrow
boxes, containing light freight, with'a few boxes of fruit,
and on top, a coop of game chickens, arranged so that
the slightest careless touch would bring them to the floor
and awaken him. This done, he secured a heavy club,
put out the gas, and went to sleep. It was not long
until the crash came, and in a moment Brick was on his
feet. Moonlight through a crack or window revealed an
outline of the situation. The boxes lay partially opened,
the chickens were abroad, and in the midst of the debris
lay the thief! Not a boy, or a woman, but a Swedish
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. m
man with the national hair, and florid countenance.
Anything but a Swedish thief, thought ' Brick ' in the ex-
citement, and though the enemy was prostrate, he laid
on his club with frequent and vigorous blows. There
was no cry of pain, no effort at resistance, no sound or
echo save the sickly thud. ' Brick ' concluded that the
thief had been killed by his fall. So he lit his gas, and
checked off the result.
"He had killed Gen. G. Washington, the father of his
country, and a hero for '76 years. The General having
been done in wax, was on his way to Wood's Museum at
Chicago, to join his staff. ' Brick' had introduced him
at a Matinee before his time.
" Of course, ' Brick ' waxed warm, and it sticks to him
to this day."
" I am on a Southern road, and once had a load of
editors on their way to Winona, to attend the Press Con-
vention there. It is not always safe to joke editors ; and,
in getting this off, I don't want to give either my own
name or that of my road. Dr. John Woods, of the
Scooba Spectator, took charge of Mr. Stevens, of the
Columbus Index, on this occasion, and had much diffi-
culty in getting the young gentleman to Jackson. Like
most, editors, Stevens' baggage consisted of only one
extra shirt, and that a checked one. The baggage-man
accosted Stevens with :
" 'Any baggage, sir?'
S. u * Yes, sir.'
B. M. " ' Let me see the checks ! '
" Stevens cautiously unravelled the bundle, and, holding
up the forlorn shirt, asked the man if he could see the
checks. An umphl in basso continuendo, and the ex-
pressman was gone I "
II2 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
Sandy Burrrell, of the I., B. & W. Road, stroked his
famous whiskers, and said :
" I had a baggage-smasher running with me once, who
had his old-fashioned idea of running baggage exploded in
a peculiar way. Jim had ruined two or three trunks for
a certain commercial traveller, whose route lay along
our line, who resolved to teach him a lesson. This gen-
tleman, who was in the hardware line, packed a carpet-
bag full of loaded revolvers, and handed it to my man Jim.
He took it, and, as the owner went away, threw the bag
up against the wall of the car savagely, then drew it on
the floor and stamped on it as usual. At about the
fourth jump, firing began along the whole line. Forty-
two revolvers went off in rapid succession, distributing
bullets around the car with disgusting carelessness, the
smasher's legs running against six of them before he
could get out of the car. He rode upon the platform
during the whole of that trip ; and when he did enter the
car, he encased his legs in stove-pipe, and ran an iron-
clad snow-plough in front of him, to push the baggage
out with. He is running on our main line now, and I
believe he smashes fewer carpet-bags than he did in the.
blissful past much fewer, and he wears a melancholy
air. The only boon he craves, so Billy Smith tells me,
is that he may be present when that carpet-bagger calls
with his check. He threatens to check his career."
" Not quite so much style and dignity out on those
Kansas roads as they put on further east," says John
Minckler. "Ed. Jewett, who used to be on the C, B. &
Q., is ticket-agent at Kansas City. His office is a sort
of headquarters there. I was sitting there with him one
day, when a rough-looking, portly fellow came in and sat
down by the stove. His pants were rolled up, and he
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
113
wore a seedy, slouch hat. I wondered who he could be,
and what he was doing behind the scenes. Ed. had to
get up to ticket somebody, and when he sat down again
the rough-looking fellow broke out with
" ' I've got the most penurious set of conductors and
men in the world. Here I am without money, and no
way of getting any can't even get a drink.'
" Ed. smiled, as though he was used to such interroga-
tions, and, turning to me, said :
" ' Mr. Minckler, this is " Uncle Ben," assistant super-
intendent of the Leavenworth, Lawrence & Galveston
Road.'
" Of course, we all went over to Joe Hunt's and took
some ' brine.' "
" Now make room for one of the oldest ticket-agents in
the United States. I was conductor on the Little Miami
Road, and the C, H. & D., in Ohio, for a long time;
and left the track on account of my health, or for the
want of it. Opened a general ticket-office, on my own
account, adjoining the 'Burnett House,' in Cincinnati,
just above the Vine Street entrance. Name ah ! I
forgot, Pettybone on the Road, ' Pet.'
"Rush one day for tickets; everybody going every-
where. My clerk had gone to a funeral. Of course,
there will be mistakes, when one is in a hurry. About
an hour after it was all over, a well-known lawyer came
in and returned me a one-dollar note, overpaid him in
making change. I was speechless ; then, as my eyes
moistened, I grasped him by the hand, and exclaimed :
" ' Judge, stand still a moment. Let me look at you
and you a lawyer, too.' We went in and had a
cobbler.
" When I made up my cash that night, I threw out a
H4 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
one-dollar counterfeit bill. That was the bill I got from
judge C ."
"Joe Reevy said he used to be agent of the Terre
Haute Road, at Pana, Illinois. Had a ticket-clerk who
was a little tricky. One week the Western roads were
flooded with well-executed counterfeit $5 notes on the
Chippewa Bank, and my clerk got stuck on one. This
was returned to us, with a printed description of the
counterfeit, and directions for detecting it. This we
pasted up outside, near the window. That counterfeit
Chippewa laid on the clerk's desk for a long time, wait-
ing for a call. Next night, portly gentleman came along,
asked for ticket to , handing the clerk two five- .
dollar notes, Chippewa Bank, both genuine. Clerk took
them in quickly, dropped one on his desk, and threw out
his counterfeit.
" ' Sorry, sir, but that is not a genuine bill ! "
" ' Not genuine ! ' exclaimed the astonished gentleman,
' I gave you two, both alike ! '
" ' Beg pardon, sir, here they are. One is good, the
other is not. You will find a description of the counter-
feit near you there on the wall. Do me the favor to
examine for yourself, as others are waiting.'
" The gentleman ' examined,' was convinced ; gave
another five, and received his ticket.
" The audacity of the thing, and the extraordinary cool-
ness of the clerk, made me powerless to interfere, and
I allowed him to ' get even.' The last time I heard of
that clerk, he was running for Congress against an honest
soldier, with the chances two to one in his favor. Yes,
sir, I am residing now in St. Louis."
Henry Tristan said that when he was a conductor on
the Hudson River Road, one of his brakemen came into
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
115
possession of a " blessing" in a singular manner, and he
thought the fact ought to be recorded. He tells it in
rhyme, and being a long-winded "cuss,"' the account is
somewhat tedious, but the point comes in at the right
place :
"LEFT BEHIND.*
"A brakeman's rhyme.
" ' Oh, sir, my box the black one there,
Oh, would you be so kind,
It's all I have in this wide world,
And that is left behind.'
I pulled the rope, and Number Twelve
Backed slowly to her place ;
I can't forget that oblong box,
Nor, indeed, that lady's face.
" Now if things that lose their owners,
All our sympathies so bind,
How much more should living creatures,
Who, forlorn, are left behind.
See the dog in some strange city,
Who has lost his master, kind,
I confess an honest pity
For a cur that's left behind.
" With his nose upon the pavement,
How he threads the mighty throng,
Lifting anxious eyes to faces,
Whining out his lonely song.
Kicked and cuffed by every idler,
Set upon by his own kind ;
I could hang the man who strikes him,
A poor dog that's left behind.
* See " No One To Blame," page 128.
H6 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
"For I can't forget the school-days,
Those first days at Abbott Lawn ;
When the shadow of a mother
That bent o'er me was withdrawn.
Or the utter desolation,
The despair that filled my mind,
When she left me with the master,
Left her little boy behind.
" So I pitied this poor lady,
Travelling alone that night,
With the box that held her wardrobe,
Scarce a dozen pounds in weight.
Seeking friends in some great city,
Or a lover there to find,
Or perchance a friendless maiden,
Whom love had left behind.
" So I turned my brake and fixed it,
Then looked her up a seat,
Gave the fire an overhauling,
Then sat down to warm my feet.
And my heart went towards that lady,
For her weeping made me blind,
So I went and sat beside her,
Though I left a wife behind.
" By this time we reached the station,
I believe I touched my hat,
When the lady came and asked me
* Would I have an eye to that ?
I expect to meet my brother,
If the telegram went through ;
Then ' she sobbed ' he'll come and get it,
With many thanks to you.'
" Henry Tristan, our conductor,
Now came through the crowded train ;
And I told him why I signalled,
And we both went back again.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. uj
Taking up the oblong bundle,
We could find no plain address,
So we put it by for orders
To return by next express.
" But that ' order ' never reached us,
And that ' brother ' never came,
So I took that bundle with me,
And it found a home and name.
He's as bright a little youngster,
And as pretty as you'll find,
But my wife will never tell you
How that boy was left behind."
Charlie Lee, known far and wide as the courteous
Assistant Superintendent of the Hannibal and St. Joe
Railway Company, stationed at Quincy, 111., has per-
suaded his line to adopt a plan that seems likely to rid
that road of the three-card monte swindlers.
Each conductor is provided with a number of large
cards bearing this inscription : " Beware of three-card
monte and confidence men." Whenever any of these
gentry are discovered aboard a train, the conductor goes
into the car and puts up the warnings over the door,
where everybody can see them. It makes the manipu-
lating gentlemen wince and swear and beg, but the sign
stays there to their sad discomfiture. If all the roads would
adopt some such plan, there would be fewer robberies by
these men to report.
Jule Coleman, a conductor on the same road, thought
it was a good time and place to slip in a good joke on
" Ox-Horns," of Galesburg, Illinois. " Ox-Horns " is the
trade-mark of John A. Marshall, the Illinois clothing
man, who gets up the "harness" for all the railway men
in the Northwest His establishment in Galesburg,
U8 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
Illinois, is a sort of railroad headquarters, where Green-
halgh cuts and Gowdey swings the style. "John" is a
leader in the Methodist Church, a practical wag, and in-
corrigible joker. In passing the contribution-box in his
church on one occasion, he came to a seat crowded with
conductors, and saluted them thus :
" Tickets, gentlemen, tickets. You can't ride on this
train unless you pay. Salvation is free, but it costs like
h 1 to run the church."
" John " met with his match once. He used to pick up a
friend or two and run out to Brookfield, on our road, to
enjoy a few days with Blossom, of the Passenger House
there. On one of these visits he met with the advance
agent of a concert troupe, who rode into Brookfield in a
gay vehicle resembling a pedle^s cart. "John " offered
to go ahead on his route and bill a town or two, and it
was agreed that he should start with the wagon next
morning. A few miles out of town, old lady rushes out
of the house, when the following colloquy ensues :
Lady "Say, what have you got to sell ?"
John "I am a travelling agent, madame, for the
great menagerie of ancient and modern times, which is
shortly to be exhibited in this section."
Lady " Have you any elephants?"
John "We have, madame, six elephants; but these
constitute a comparatively unimportant part of the show.
We have living specimens of bipeds and quadrupeds,
who roamed the earth not only in the antediluvian, but
also in pliocene and postminocene periods, embracing
the megatherium, with six legs and two "
Old Lady -"Well, I declare."
John "But, madame, the greatest curiosity of our
exhibition is a learned and classical-educated mon-
EVERYDAY LIFE OK THE RAIL.
119
key, who was brought up by a Mohammedan priest in
the region of the great Desert of Sarah. He wears one
of Ox-Horns' best suits ; a hat fitted to his head by the
famous Charvat,* and he speaks with fluency all the
modern languages, besides Latin, Greek, Swede, and
Cesky. While being exhibited in Washington, he act-
ually repeated Grant's "
[ Beautiful young lady suddenly sticks her head from
the window and calls out : ]
" Mother ! mother ! Ask him why they let the mon-
key travel so far ahead of the other animals ! "
" I am a passenger conductor," said Palmer, " on the
road running from Covington to Lexington, in Kentucky.
I have a love-passage to communicate, for the entertain-
ment of the ladies. If any one doubts its authenticity,
I refer to Halstead, of the Cincinnati Commercial, and
Bloss, of the Enquirer. These gentlemen were on a voy-
age at the time, looking up the Know-Nothings, and
were on my train when it occurred.
" On the Orange B.oad was a newly married couple,
who got on at Arrington depot, in Nelson. They were
billing and cooing every five minutes, to the infinite dis-
gust of the females and the amusement of the other sex.
I admired one favorite posture. He was sitting at the
window, and she was anxious to see the country, and
leaned across his knees to look out. Of course he
wasn't going to let her fall out and be left, so he got a
good Kentucky hold round her body, and never broke his
* This refers to Mr. Charles II. J. Charvat, of Spear Bros., a
native of Tennessee, and one of the most popular and accomplished
young merchants in the City of Galesburg. He is familiar with the
languages named, and this explanation is given, lest he be confound-
ed with Mr. Marshall's questionable animals.
120 , EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
grip for an hour. The pressure at times must have been
about seventy-five pounds to the square inch. Then he
would slack up. She was ' mighty ' afraid of dropping
out of the window, for she never whimpered, even when
he tightened his arms to the last notch ; that is, when
going across the river and ugly high banks. After she had
seen the country enough, they began to whisper to each
other, and after each whisper bite an ear, holding it a little
while and ' chawing ' like puppies do your fingers, in fun.
He would make out sometimes she had bit him too hard
and tousle her for it. The tousling was the best part of
the performance. She knew she had done wrong in the
auricular matter, and ought to be tousled. Most of the
men in the car thought so, and if she hadn't submitted
they were ready to help in this act of justice.
" Several of them stood up every now and then, to be
ready if their services were needed. Some were inter-
ested to such extent in suppressing, with marked and re-
pressive punishment, this unlawful compression of the
male acoustic organ between the incisors of the female,
that first refreshing themselves by passing to the ice-cooler
and swallowing deep draughts and then returning to the
neighborhood where the sufferer was avenging himself,
keeping their arms in position for immediate use in case
of emergency. The vanquished was doomed to support
the head of the conqueror till he should recover from the
fatigue of asserting his rights. I could tell you more."
" I am a brakeman with ' Cotton ' Smith, the handsom-
est conductor on the Toledo, Peoria, and Warsaw Road.
The Wabash fellows call it the ' Tired, Poor, and Weary.'
We run from Peoria to Warsaw, a little town on a high
bluff, overlooking the Mississippi river."
" Oh, well, go ahead, or give the track to somebody else."
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. I2 i
" Well, one trip, as we were about to pull out of War-
saw, an old man came down to the cars to see his daugh-
ter off. ' Cotton ' helped him to secure a seat for her,
and he went round to the window to say a parting word,
kind of private like, you know. While he was passing
out the daughter left her seat to speak to a friend, and at
the same time a prim-looking lady, who occupied the
seat with her, moved up to the window. Unaware of the
important changes inside, the old gentleman hastily put
his face up to the window and hurriedly exclaimed,
4 One more kiss, sweet pet ! '
" In another instant the point of a blue cotton umbrella
caught his seductive lips, accompanied by the passionate
injunction : ' S'cat, you gray-headed wretch ! ' "
" I think I had that same blue umbrella in my train once.
Its owner was named Miss Polly Partington, who, at the
mature age of fifty-one, made up her mind to visit New
York for the first time in her innocent life. Railroads
had been unknown in Aroostook county until that sum-
mer, and she had never seen anything of the kind. The
old farm-house in which she lived was seven miles from
the station. Taylor, the station-master, was telling me
how she sat calmly upon a seat placed on the great
wooden platform which surrounds the country depot,
and gazed with amazement upon the train that arrived,
paused a few moments to take on passengers, and then
proceeded upon its journey. As she gazed after the train,
Taylor inquired :
" ' Why did you not get on, if you wished to go to New
York?'
" ' Git on ! ' said Miss Polly, ' git on ! I thought this
whole consarn went ! '
" Taylor explained that the platform was stationary,
6
122 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
and when we came up with the express train I found her
a seat by the side of a benevolent old gentleman. I was
curious to know how my unsophisticated passenger would
act, and after awhile made it convenient to be near.
Clutching fast hold of the seat in front of her, she was at
first much alarmed at the speed at which we were going,
but gradually became calm and much interested in the
novelty of her su Groundings. The old gentleman answered [
her many inquiries very civilly, and among other things
tried to explain the use of the telegraph wires, and told her
that messages are sent over the wires at a greater speed
than they were travelling. 'Wa'al, wa'al,' said Miss Polly,
'you don't ketch me a-ridin' on 'em, for this is as fast as I
want to go, anyhow.' She saw so many wonderful things
that she concludes at last not to be astonished at anything.
A misplaced switch sends us into the train that preceded
us, and our friend is thrown to the end of the car, among
a heap of broken seats. She supposes it to be the ordi-
nary manner of stopping, and quietly remarks, ' Ye fetch
up rather sudden, don't ye ? ' I returned after a time,
and found that the old gentleman had provided her a seat
in a forward car which was uninjured, and she arrived at
her journey's end without further accident.
" Here she was surrounded by a crowd of eager hack-
men, and listens in wonder to their oft-repeated call of
* Hack ! ' ' Hack.' Grasping her umbrella in one hand,
and her bandbox in the other, she looks down into the
face of the loudest driver with the compassionate inquiry,
' Air you in pain ? ' She is rescued from the conse-
quences of his wrath by her nephew, who came to the
depot to look for her."
" I was the party who conducted Mr. A. Ward from
Providence to Boston, though you may have heard of it
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
123
before. The famous wag was feeling miserable and
dreading to be bored, when a man approached him, sat
down, and said :
" ' Did you hear the last thing on Horace Greeley?'
" ' Greeley ? Greeley ? ' said Artemus. ' Horace Gree-
ley ? Who is he ? '
" The man was quiet about five minutes. Pretty soon
he said :
" ' George Francis Train is kicking up a good deal of a
row over in England ; do you think they will put him in
a bastile ? '
" 'Train ? Train ? George Francis Train ? ' said Arte-
mus, solemnly. ' I never heard of him.'
" This ignorance kept the man quiet for fifteen minutes ;
then he said :
"'What do you think about General Grant's chances
for the Presidency ? Do you think they will run him ? '
"'Grant? Grant? hang it, man,' said Artemus, 'you
appear to know more strangers than any man I ever
saw.'
" The man was furious ; he walked up the car, but at
last came back, and said :
'"You confounded ignoramus, did you ever hear of
Adam?'
" Artemus looked up and said : ' What was his other
name ? ' "
" Jack Haney, known as ' Old Flat-wheel,' formerly
of the Prairie du Chien, is now a popular conductor on
the Union Pacific. He had charge of the famous excur-
sion train, composed entirely of Pullman cars, on light-
ning time, from New York to San Francisco. He had
orders to see how fast he could go ! Old Devant, Presi-
dent of the road, was aboard, and, remonstrating with
124
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
Jack, told him to decrease his speed, or he would kill
every one on the train.
" ' My orders are,' replied Jack, ' to take you over this
division of the road as fast as steam can carry you. You
needn't be alarmed about so small a train as this. When
we kill any out here, we always kill enough to make it an
object ! ' "
" Hank Argentine, a popular conductor on the Rock
Island Road, says he likes to see a commercial traveller
taken down occasionally. On a recent occasion, one of
these gentry got on his train, and, as usual, spread him-
self and baggage over two seats. A lady afterwards en-
tered, apparently a young and timid thing, and, after
some trouble, I got her crowded in among the travelling
man's baggage, on the opposite seat. Then my com-
mercial began to do the agreeable ; they are always so
knowing, those travelling men. He began to suggest to
the young lady that the spring season was approaching,
when she hoped there would be no collision. ' Fine
weather for vegetation,' continued Commercial. ' Yes,'
said the lady, ' green things were growing bold.' ' Which
way was she going ?' ' Going for him, if he didn't keep a
proper distance.'
" ' Ah, see,' he said, not at all discomfited, pointing to
a calf through the window ' See ! what sort of an animal
is that ? '
" 'I should judge, from its resemblance to you,' she re-
plied promptly, ' that it was a travelling man looking for
his baggage.' "
" ' I wanted to put in a word before we go,' said Cleve-
land, "for 'Billy' Smith, one of the first and most popular
conductors on the T., W. & W. Road. An old lady coming
from Iowa was put on the train at Clayton. She was
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. \ 2 ^
ninety-two years old, deaf, and partially blind. It was
one of the coldest nights of a severe Western winter, and
the old lady was but thinly clad. She had no ticket or
pass nothing to show where she wanted to go. She
could only tell that her son put her on the train, but, with
tears, refused to divulge any names. When the train was
well under way, the lady had occasion to leave her seat
for a moment, when the humane conductor, searching
everywhere for a clue to the mystery, found a slip of pa-
per under the seat, upon which were these words, written
in a clerkly hand :
" ' This woman wants to go to Salem.'
" ' Billy ' carried her to Bluff City, put her in charge of
the agent there, with instructions to send her to Salem
next morning. She was found cold and stiff near the
Salem depot next evening, having perished from cold and
exposure. There was some excitement and suspicion of
foul play.
" Mr. Smith asked the Company for leave of absence,
which was granted. He then went back over the route
to the point- in Iowa supposed to have been the poor
woman's starting-place. It was never known how, inch
by inch, he made his way to the unnatural son's very
door. Nor did it ever transpire how much of his own
money Mr. Smith expended in that long and uncertain
search. Suffice it to say, that the son was brought to
justice. It turned out that the old lady stood between
the son and the possession. of a splendid farm which he
was to inherit from a deceased father at the mother's
death. With the deliberate coolness of a villain, he
sought to anticipate death, that had already called
through slow but sure decay. When asked why he gave
126 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
time and money to a matter that concerned the State,
rather than himself, Mr. Smith replied with feeling :
" ' The law is very slow, boys, and I could not help
thinking, that perhaps that poor old woman was some-
body's mother. I have an old mother at home, myself ! ' "
" One or two conundrums, boys," said " Fatty," of the
Ohio & Mississippi, as the party arose to go. " Little
Mary Wenner, of York, Pennsylvania, discovered a bro-
ken rail in a railroad track the other day, and swung her
apron to the engineer of an approaching train in such a
manner that he stopped, and saved the train from de-
struction. Now how much money did that Company
pay this little heroine in cash ? "
" Eighty-five cents."
" One stick of peppermint candy."
" One new Chinese fan."
" One York shillin'."
"Not a penny," resumed " Fatty," "but the boys on
the train, headed by Billings, the engineer, and the passen-
gers, raised her a purse of $200 before the train re-
sumed its run ! "
Charlie Clark, of the Union Pacific, came in with an-
other :
" A baggage-master on the New York Central has, in
the last twenty-eight years, travelled almost a million and
a half of miles. What was his run per day ? "
Parker, of the Cincinnati & Marietta Road, took a
hand :
" Mr. Julius A. Sumner, of Akron, Ohio, claims to be
the first man to ride on a passenger car in the United
States, and that he sailed on the first steamboat on Lake
Erie. What relation is he to Charles Sumner, and if so,
how much ? "
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. i2 y
" Brake, brake, brake !
Oh ! where can the brakeman be ?
And in ladies' ears I cannot speak
The thoughts that arise in me.
" Oh ! well for the * Railway Arms,'
Where the brakeman is smoking, they say,
Quaffing huge draughts of ale,
And forgetting the ' permanent way,'
" While the stately train goes on
To destruction under the hill,
And the blame is laid on a vanished hand,
Or a signalman' s fickle will.
" Brake, brake, brake !
I hope no collision may be,
For compensation when I am dead
Will bring small comfort to me."
IX.
NO ONE TO BLAME.
[The reader is referred to the rhyme on page 115, entitled " Left Behind." The
following verses were subsequently found pinned to a portion of the child's cloth-
ing. It was supposed that the young mother intended to leave the litde waif on
some particular door-step, on an appropriate occasion, but afterwards changed
her mind.]
EFT on the door-step, 'mid lightning and rain,
The same old story told over again ;
Of love unrequited, desertion, and shame,
Left on the door-step, no home and no name.
Robes all embroidered, fine flannels and lace,
Who could have left it alone in this place ?
Some fair and fine lady, with tears and embrace,
Left it here sleeping a smile on its face.
Or some friendless maiden, with no one to blame,
Whom poverty crush' d, then gave over to shame ;
Whose stricken heart prayed for love and a name
Left on the door-step, and no one to blame.
Perhaps these fine laces were woven in tears,
Each thread a new heartstring, that tells of her fears
Fears of the villain who gave it to life,
And made her a mother, but never a wife.
NO ONE TO BLAME. 129
See those initials, how splendidly wrought,
No coarse, clumsy fingers e'er shapen'd that thought ;
Two syllables outlined of some broken name-
Whisper them softly there's no one to blame.
Whisper them softly the rest are entombed
In a heart that is broken, a soul that is doomed ;
I would not awaken that sorrow again,
By a word rudely spoken, or a thought to give pain.
Take it up, lady, there's no one to blame,
Tho' the fop in your parlor has the poor mother's name ;
Flatter his graces, tell daughter to come,
He has wealth and the secret need never be known.
Hunt down the mother, go blacken her name,
Don't mention her sorrow, but tell of her shame;
How she has fallen, that others might rise,
Keep her well under, till the stricken thing dies.
Send love to the heathen, in Charity's name,
Ask God to bless Pagans in some foreign clime ;
But crush the poor sister, without a friend near,
She loved and she trusted, no help for her here.
See ! it is smiling on you and on me,
While the mother is praying, where no eye may see ;
Take it up, lady, there's no one to blame,
Maybe the angels will give it a name.
THE RAILWAY POSTAL SERVICE.
Advantages of the New System over the Old The Standard Road
in the Western Service At the " Gem City" Pointless Jokes
Impecunious Swindlers, etc
ilSTRIBUTING Post Offices are now to be
found on all first-class lines, the system of route
agents having been abandoned. A handsome
car, constructed especially for the purpose, is pro-
vided, and has a place next the express car, on all express
trains. There are two compartments or divisions one
for letters and another for papers. A recess in the for-
ward part of the car is for mail-bags, that contain both
"through" and "way" mail. There are two postal
clerks to each car : the responsible chief, who presides
over the letter department, and the assistant, who
" learns " the routes and serves his apprenticeship, among
the papers. Both are sworn into the Government service,
and the car itself has no direct communication with the
rest of the train. No one, save a sworn Government era-
ployii is allowed admission into this car, and the plebeian
railroad employ^ is always given to understand that a
portion of the American Government is abroad.
THE RAILWAY POSTAL SERVICE. 131
It was formerly the custom to have the distributing
done in local post offices. Everything had to be " billed "
and " booked," and accounts kept of letters sent and re-
ceived. Now the local office has but to "bundle" its
letters, fasten with string, put them in bags, and send to
the route cars. The postal clerks then distribute them
while en route. There is no longer any necessity for the
vast quantities of complicated books and miscellaneous
stationery, the stock-in-trade being stout string. All
mail-matter used,, to be sent to the leading metropolis,
marked " D. P. O.," for distribution. By the new ar-
rangement the force is reduced in the local offices and
increased on the road. This prevents all unnecessary
delay. For instance, Western letters used to stop twelve
hours at Chicago or Buffalo for distribution. By the new
system they are bagged through. Leaving the hands of
the writer, a letter never stops until it reaches the person
to whom it is addressed.
It is calculated now that a letter will travel as fast as a-
human being, which every one will acknowledge to be a
vast improvement upon the old method.
Of roads running out of Chicago, the Chicago, Bur-
lington, and Quincy is called the Standard, in the Postal
Service, in the West. It carries more mail, by actual
weight, than any other Western road. As the depart-
ment weighs the mails once every year, this fact can be
readily ascertained. The next road is the North-west-
ern, and so closely were they matched, that at one time
they indulged in the most bitter rivalry.
With the Government seal upon the door of the rail-
way postal car, as well as upon the lips of the officials,
the author found it difficult to learn much of their Every-
day Life by actual observation. Their places of rendez-
132
THE RAILWAY POSTAL SERVICE.
vous are at the junction of two or more lines ; at the be-
ginning or terminus of long "runs," where a night inter-
venes between the arrival and departure of trains. But
three or four can come together on these occasions, and
the leisure hour detracts but little from the monotony of
the busy day. If it is at Quincy, a few jokes and " drives "
over a mug of beer at the " Gem City," send them to
their bunks for a few hours' rest. Notwithstanding a fre-
quent poultice of wine and beer, the jokes are usually dry,
and without point. For instance :
Hank Boblett says the H. & St. Joe Road is one of the
heaviest of mail routes, but the work consists chiefly of
hauling in butter, eggs, and potatoes.
Then Poole tells of Bonham's mistake in regard to
Dilge, and how the latter escaped the mistake his vic-
tuals made.
Then Moore of the Wabash tells how Hartman wanted
a double house, and Hartman gives the details of how
Moore was seized with diphtheria in his off ear. Moore
is the " wag of the Wabash," and his comrades throw a bag
at him whenever one comes in their way. On one occa-
sion, a clerk was transferred from the C, B. & Q_. to the
Wabash, and placed over Moore and his associates. This
was a bit of " red tape " of the wrong color, and did not
" distribute " worth a cent. They turned the boxes on
the new man. " How do you like the new run?" they
asked, after a trip or two. "Oh, it's a bore," was the
reply. "When I was over on the C, B. & Q., all I had
to do was to throw ' North ' in front of me, and ' South '
behind, but here you throw North to the West, and
South to the East." Porter advised him to buy a compass,
but he was removed before it arrived.
Palmer tells of a fellow who handed in a letter at the
THE RAILWAY POSTAL SERVICE. 133
State Line for the Pump Works in La Fayette. It was
said to contain $12, but never reached its destination. A
" tracer " discovered that the letter went through all right,
but that the writer in his haste had neglected to enclose
the money. Another man came to him and wanted $5
returned, claiming to have mailed that amount in a letter
that had never been received. Beard, a special agent of
the Money Order Department, thereupon started over
the route to investigate the matter, spending time and
money in a fruitless search. It was the opinion of expe-
rienced clerks, that persons pretending to pay debts in
this way never enclose the money at all. The blame
therefore falls on postal clerks, who frequently forfeit
lucrative positions, at the demand of some impecunious
and unprincipled adventurer.
XI.
THE NIGHT EXPRESS.
A station-agent's rhyme.
ALF AN HOUR till train time, sir,
A fearful dark night, too ;
Look at the switch-lights, Tom, my boy,
Fetch in a stick when you're through.
"On time ! " why yes, I guess so,
Despatch says " left all right ;"
She'll come round the curve a-flyin',
Sime Murray comes up to-night.
Don't know him ! well, he's engineer ;
Been on here all his life ;
I'll never forget the mornin 1
He married his little wife.
The summer the mill-hands struck, sir,
Quit work there, every one ;
Kicked up a row in the village,
And shot old Donavan's son.
Murray was there say an hour,
When up came an order from Kress,
Ordering Sime to go up there,
And bring down the Night Express.
THE NIGHT EXPRESS.
He left his gal in a hurry
A pity to spoil the fun
Thinkin' of nothin' but Mary,
And the train he had to run.
And Mary sat by the window,
To wait for the Night Express ;
And sir, if she hadn't 'a' done so,
She'd been a widow, I guess.
For it must 'a' been nigh midnight
When them mill-hands left the ridge,
They come down, the drunken devils,
Tore up a rail from the bridge.
But Mary heard 'em workin'
Guessed there was somethin' wrong
And in less than fifteen minutes
Murray's train would be along.
She couldn' t come here to tell us,
A mile it wouldn't 'a' done
So she just grabbed up a lantern,
Then made for the bridge alone.
Down came the Night Express, sir,
And Sime was making her climb,
But Mary held up the lantern,
A swingin' it all the time.
Well, by Jove ! Sime saw the signal,
And stopped the Night Express ;
And he found his Mary cryin',
On the track, in her weddin' dress.
Cryin' and laughin' , for joy, sir,
And holdin' on to the light
Hello ! here's the train good-by, sir,
Sime Murray's on time to-night.
135
XII.
ON THE NIGHT TRAIN.
HEN the smoke blew and the sparks flew, and
we stopped to put off or take on, you could
hear the church-bells ringing, and the katydids
chaffering and interrupting each other, like gos-
sips over their tea. The noise and hurry of the night
express, and the peaceful, sleepy country life blended
for an instant in a kind of harmony, and then, by contrast,
went wider and wider of each other than before.
Now that the moon came out to keep an eye on the
world, I felt I might drop it all off my mind. So I put down
my bag and my water-proof and my head, and shut my own
eyes. But my ears were wide open, you may be sure.
Pretty soon, something went wrong with the box of one
of the wheels, and there was a flurry of lanterns and oil-
cans and men, for a little season. Then " Pooh ! pooh ! "
screamed the whistle, and we were off again. The moon
now began to see something worth seeing. Myself, you
understand, comfortably settled for the night, after hav-
ing secured the monopoly of a whole seat, voluntarily
giving up half of it to a stranger. And before the night
ON THE NIGHT TRAIN.
137
was over, I witnessed a romance a hundred times more
absorbing than sleep.
The woman who sat by me was elderly, with a sharp,
handsome face, worn and marked with time and trouble.
A man followed her into the car, and presently found a
seat before us. Directly he turned about to my seat-
mate. " He is really your husband, you know, Mrs.
Evans," he said, in a low, but perfectly distinct voice.
"He is not 7" she replied, with sudden emphasis.
Instantly how wide-awake I was !
"I beg you not to be hasty," continued the man, per-
suasively. " I do not pretend he did right in leaving you
and his child for so many years without a word. And
his second marriage is niore inexcusable yet. But this
second Mrs. Evans has been worse treated than you
have, and if she will overlook her wrongs and permit him
to leave her for you without making any trouble, it seems
to me you may find it possible to forgive him ; for the
sake of your boy, if you would not for yourself."
" For the sake of my boy ! " broke out Mrs. Evans,
passionately. " A great gift such a father would be ! I
tell you, Mr. Crafts, every drop of blood in my body flies
into motion thinking of such cowardly meanness and ter-
rible wrong ; and you may be perfectly sure I will never
acknowledge or even see him. This is my final answer,
and you may take it now."
The handsome face grew handsomer and more im-
movable at every word, and I wondered at the man's
hardihood in persisting any farther ; but he turned still
more in his seat, with a determined and thoroughly busi-
ness air, as though he had just so much to say, and
should say it in any event.
All this time the man who occupied the seat before
!38 ON THE NIGHT TRAIN.
me with Mr. Crafts, was sitting leaned against the win-
dow, with his hat slouched over his eyes, apparently
asleep in his corner, but in fact listening all over, as his
whole attitude in some indescribable way showed. Mr.
Crafts and Mrs. Evans were both too absorbed and too
excited to notice him ; and indeed I suppose he had as
good right to listen to what was none of his business, as
I had, if it was forced into his ears.
"But, Mrs. Evans," began Mr. Crafts again, "your
husband is very penitent, and ready to make any prom-
ises you may require, and to submit to any conditions
whatever, if you will only acknowledge him as your hus-
band. The other woman will never intrude or interfere.
You shall have what property you possess secured to
yourself personally, and you cannot ask any more humble
confessions than he is willing to make. Besides, al-
though he has showed lamentable and even criminal
weakness in neglecting to send for or to you, yet I be-
lieve he was never really base at heart or intentionally a
scoundrel. He kept hoping his business affairs would
brighten, as he says, and was ashamed and discouraged
about letting you know of his failures. So time passed
along in this way until the woman beguiled him into a
marriage, quite unconscious of what she was doing. In-
deed, Mrs. Evans, your husband has apparently been
more weak than wicked ; and I do not think you show a
Christian spirit of forgiveness in refusing to see him, at
the very least."
" Mr. Crafts, I have no husband. He was lost to me
twenty-one years ago, and I have no wish or intention of
seeing or hearing anything more respecting the creature
who wears his name," returned Mrs. Evans, cold and im-
movable as Bunker Hill Monument.
ON THE NIGHT TRAIN. i^g
We halted a moment as we neared the next station,
and she took the opportunity to pass into the next car.
I never saw Mrs. Evans again, though the story did not
end here.
She was scarcely gone, when a voice came from under
the slouched hat in front of me. " Crafts, are you going
to let her go so ? " it said, in a tone startling in its woe
and despair.
" I can do nothing with her, Evans. I told you so
before. You have heard her talk now for yourself, and
can't you be satisfied?"
"You won't desert me now, Crafts. I don't care so
much for her, but I want my boy," said the voice in
pathetic and agonized entreaty.
" I can do nothing more for you. You have sowed,
and now you must reap. You hear what she says," he
added, in an indifferent manner.
" Then why did you tell me at the start, she had left
England with my boy, and say you would intercede for
me ? Why did you not leave me with Marianna and my
farm in peace? Marianna was kind and cheerful and
made me comfortable enough, and I should have been
contented and satisfied all my life, if you had never come
and told me Eugenia and my boy were living and on this
side of the ocean ; and then persuaded me I could come
out into the world and take my place among men once
more. Marianna has left me, and Eugenia will not
come to me. You have lost me both my wives and
taken my money besides, Marianna' s boy is dead, and
Eugenia's is lost to me. There is nothing for me in this
life or the next," said the unhappy man.
" Business is business," returned Mr. Crafts. " I must
live as well as the next man, and you cannot say but the
140 ON THE NIGHT TRAIN.
bargain was fairly made, and the money fairly earned.
You were to give me the farm outright, and in return I
was to inform the second Mrs. Evans that she was not,
and never had been, your legal wife ; as well as do my
best to bring about a reconciliation with the first Mrs.
Evans none of which was desirable work. I have
closed up with Mrs. Evans the second, and made suitable
and comfortable provision for her future ; and I have
tried my utmost with Mrs. Evans the first. But it is not
my fault that she declines to have anything to do with
you. I did not engage to furnish a character for you ;
that was beyond my power, as well as not in the agree-
ment. It is a pity about you, but I can do nothing
more; and you must admit I have fulfilled all my en-
gagements, and done all I promised, which it appears is
more than you have always done."
The man seemed already too wretched to mind this
cold-blooded thrust. He only crushed his hat lower on
his forehead, and settled back in his seat, a living image
of forsaken and hopeless desolation. So we whirled
along past sleeping villages, over long reaches of open
country, under the quiet stars, and into the heart of the
great, waking city, where he left the cars, disappearing
from me in the gray morning among the crowd of men
gathered about the station.
We need not the voice of the great archangel to tell
us that " to be weak, is to be miserable." And this man
who had evidently been sinfully weak all the way, and
who doubtless deserved the woe he had .brought upon
himself I pitied with my whole heart.
XIII.
THE LITTLE CRIPPLE.
[A machinist, killed by an accident in the shops, left a widow and two children
_j; m , a young engineer, and his little brother Ned. Jim was very fond
of this little brother, and frequently amused him with a ride in the yard on his en-
gine. On one occasion, in an unguarded moment, Ned fell, one leg being crushed
under the wheel. The leg was amputated, and he lived but two years after the
occurrence. The little fellow, going about on his crutches, became a general fa-
vorite, and his sad death occasioned universal sorrow.]
wrsa'N a city of the prairie, where uncertain waters flow,
Stands a modest little cottage, that the winter winds well
know;
Here and there a ragged clapboard, or an idle hinge was
seen,
But within that shattered cottage all was wondrous neat and clean.
Everybody knew the cottage, for the little children said,
Here lived a widowed mother, and her little cripple Ned.
On this night the storm was raging, and the prairie winds were wild,
As the mother, pale with watching, smooth' d the death-bed of her
child.
It was not some fair, fine lady, with white and jewelled hands,
And a host of cringing lackeys to obey her least commands ;
But a poor mechanic's widow, robbed by death of every joy,
Who had known no other fortune, save this little crippled boy.
!42 THE LITTLE CRIPPLE.
In the corner were the crutches, and the toys he put away,
For he often tried to follow little comrades at their play.
On the bed he lay there sleeping, as the mother thought a prayer,
For she could not speak for weeping, and she knew that God was
there.
She would not have him waken, and she dared not think him dead,
So she knelt and prayed in whispers, for her little crippled Ned.
Prayed that God would spare the suff'rer, and take herself in-
stead
But the little lips now open " Mother, here is little Ned."
" I've been talking with the angels, and they took the pain away "
Thus the mother's prayer was answered, thus she knew he could
not stay.
" But they said they'd come to-morrow. Oh ! dear mother, don't
you cry,
But give Ned a drink of water, for I'm going by and by."
With nervous step she hastened to take up the tea-cup near,
And the waiting water trembled as it caught the falling tear.
A mouthful feebly swallowed " Mother, where is brother Jim?
When he comes from work, please tell him, Ned left good-by for
him."
The door is softly opened, and the brother enters there,
But he hears no voice of welcome, only sobs and words of prayer.
Then the two kneel down together, in the presence of the dead,
And pray God that yet in heaven they may meet their little Ned.
XIV.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
AMONG THE FREIGHT-MEN, CONDUCTORS, AND BRAKEMEN.
The Freight-men The Freight Conductor The Accommodation
Train Sayre and the Lecturess Packard's Conundrum How
Courtney got out against Brown Conductor's P 's great
Fete A Dollar for a Kiss" Blazer, look yar ! " How Reddy
got away with a Drover Allison of Le Roy " Notis !"
Promotion Crawley's Scare Frazier and the Swindlers
"Dutch Cooper" Avery's "Lightning Stop" The Dog
Charmer One Foot ahead " Don't, John!" Workins'
Leap Merrill and the Ku Klux Rich Wine The Phantom
Brakeman A Bore In a Fog A Coupling Pin "Put Down
the Brakes" Dead And No Name.
REIGHT-MEN, when off duty, usually congre-
gate in a way-car or caboose in the yard.
Their's is a rougher life than that of the more
favored passenger-men ; yet it is not without its
pleasures and attractions. The Company looks to the
Freight Service for much of its material for advanced
positions, and the rough fellow who " checks " freight to-
day, may be your genteel Passenger Conductor to-mor-
144
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
row, or Division Superintendent next week. He is en-
thusiastic in extolling the merits of his branch of the
service, and dwells with ardor upon the advantages of
his own " Run ; " the power of his engine, the skill and
experience of his engineer, and the wonderful exploits
his " crew " have performed in the direction of " running
switches," "lightning stops," and dangerous couplings.
He is always ready to tell you, that any one can run a
passenger truck, but that the management of a freight
train requires great knowledge of the road, and vast ex-
ecutive ability. He is exceedingly jealous of his dignity
and authority, and will not hesitate to use force in the
protection of what he calls his rights. Unwilling at
all times to acknowledge superior merits in his cotempo-
raries, the conductor who is sent above him to a passen-
ger train, becomes his mortal enemy. He sometimes
allows himself to be on speaking terms with passenger-
men, but he knew most of them when they were " freight
heavers," and he regards them merely as creatures of
luck, or the favorites of some corrupt system of promo-
tion. When he becomes a passenger-man himself, he
regards the promotion merely as a tardy recognition of
his merits, and turns his back upon his old comrades who
spend their railway lives upon the outside rather than
within the cars. You who have travelled have met the
freight-man newly metamorphosed into the conductor of
a passenger train. He is the cross-grained, overbearing
tyrant, who answers your questions with a jerk as though
he were conferring a favor. Who has never time to be
polite or well-bred. He wears fashionable garments and
indulges in " loud jewelry." He treats those under him
as menials, and fawns with the supercilious air of a
courtier upon those who occupy stations above him.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
145
When the smell of the freight wears off, he sometimes
takes on a polish which comes of constantly brushing
against travelled people and men of the world : and with
a good heart within, he finally develops into " the most
popular man on the road."
Those of his kind who refuse or neglect to help on the
developing process, degenerate again, and we find them
" running freight " on some other and distant line.
They are hardly as cosmopolitan, as a class, as passen-
ger-men, and in meeting with a few to-day in a way-car,
the author cannot promise an extensive assortment. A
passenger-man of standing may leave one line and
readily obtain a corresponding position upon another. A
freight-man with a real or supposed prospect of promo-
tion constantly before him, is quite apt to remain on one
line, until this hope is realized or abandoned. Passing
their railway lives upon the top of the train so to speak
mingling with boxes, bales, and bundles, rather than
with living, bustling human beings, their everyday ex-
periences are dull and monotonous. The sunshine of
Romance very rarely lights up the freight-man's sky, and
if a joke or a bit of fun comes aboard with his merchan-
dise, it is the exception rather than the rule.
A freight train with a passenger caboose attached is
called on some lines an "Accommodation Train." It
"accommodates" the Company rather than the public,
and derives its chief recommendation from the fact, that
it " stops at all stations." As this train has been side-
tracked for the night, we find a number of the boys
gathered in its caboose.
" As I was going through the car on my run to-day,"
said Sayre, " I saw a lady smoking a pipe very industri-
ously in a rear seat.
7
1^6 EVERYDAY LIFE OJV THE RAIL.
" ' Madam,' said I, as courteously as I knew how,
'we don't even allow men to smoke in this car.'
" ' That is an excellent rule, sir,' she replied, with the
utmost coolness ; * if I see any man smoking in here,
I'll inform you at once.'
" I think she was some lecturess on woman's rights."
" Joe Packard, now of the Illinois Central, is probably
the worst cut-up man on any road. Scarcely a portion
of his body but has its scars. His last freak was an at-
tempt to leap from a way-car that was off the track, on
to a coal flat. Just as he jumped the coupling gave way,
the car stopped, and he struck down in the road-bed,
where there wasn't a particle of coal. He says he made
a better jump since, all the way from the Erie to the Illi-
nois Central. He used to come in every trip with a new
'religious conundrum,' as he called them. He would
go up into the office and shoot them off at some one at
headquarters. I remember the last one, very well.
" ' How many boiled eggs could the giant Goliath eat on
an empty stomach ? '
" ' Fifty dozen,' replied one.
" ' No, sir, only a single egg. If he ate one egg, his
stomach wouldn't be empty, would it?' "
Joe has a Sabbath-school now at Amboy, with Captain
Wells, Rosenbush, and John Henry as pupils.
" Secoy said he was going to tell the boys how Court-
ney got out against Brown. He believed George would
get off a joke if the Angel Gabriel should blow his horn.
I was running the extra freight, with Courtney as my en-
gineer, and Brown was pulling brother. Bristol. We were
pulling into Neponset, when we met 24 with her flag gone,
and then went for Kewanee. When in the hollow, west
of Neponset, met Bristol and Brown going for Neponset.
EVERYDAY LIFE OJV THE RAIL.
147
Thought something was wrong, and Brown was evidently
of the same opinion. Courtney commenced to back up,
but the grade was too much for him. I ran out after
Brown to stop him. He was handling his engine with
masterly skill, but still he gained on George, whose nerve
failed him. He was on the last step, and his fireman on
the other, ready to jump. For forty rods they ran within a
car's length of each other, at a five-mile gait we trying
to get away, Brown trying to stop. Brown stood with one
hand on the throttle and the other on the lever while
Courtney, at this hazardous moment, passed in one of his
jokes.
"When he was in the army, he took a job at driving*
mules. He had a yellow mule in which he had no con-
fidence whatever. One night, after eating up the bows
of the wagon, this yellow mule commenced pawing
Courtney out from under it, in order to eat him up. He
thought his chances now were about as big as when the
yellow mule was after him.
"All this danger was brought about through the care-
lessness of a brakeman who let his white lamp go out."
"Last fall," said Patch, "Tom Holdsworth had an Ex-
tra Stock East, on the Main Line. He stopped on the
grade, and Len. Bassett, a brakeman, went back to flag.
In starting up, the train broke in two. Bassett, seeing
that he could not stop the train that Avas following, and
gaining rapidly upon them, rushed for his own train,
woke up his drovers, and jumped them out, saving a
number of lives. He then put on brakes and stopped
his train, the result being but a slight damage to the way-
car. This was an exhibition of nerve that you don't see
every day."
" Oh, I don't know as it beats Lucas much," said
I4 8 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
Lowry. "Brakeman, Charlie Lucas, saw a head-light
one night, coming pretty close. He took his torpedoes
and red light, and went back. Arriving at the proper
distance, he found he was flagging a belated farmer who
was hunting up stray stock. There were no signs of
any other pursuing train. Charlie's name has since been
changed from Lucas to looseness, though he never gets
tight."
" Do you know how near Bill P came to getting
his foot in it?" asked "Pigeon."
" Didn't think there was anything big enough to hold
it!"
" Yes, about ten years ago, he applied to Hammond
for a passenger train.
" 'AH right, sir,' replied the colonel, ' only one objec-
tion.'
" What's that ? ' asked P .
" ' Require an extra coach to carry your feet.' "
" Doc. Merriman says he was coming down grade once,
to side-track for some train, when he saw obstructions on
the track ahead. There were two or three inches of snow
on the track, which made them more visible, of course. He
reversed, called for brakes, and sent his fireman down to
clear the way. Fireman returned, and said there was
nothing there. ' Doc' swore, and went himself. After
surveying the obstacles a moment, he looked over to the
switch, and there stood Patch.
" ' Patch,' yelled 'Doc.,' 'the next time you crossthe
track in front of my engine, I want you to pick up your
tracks. There ain't an engine on the road can git over
'em in three inches of snow.' "
" I think I can couple on to that," said Richardson,
" and get ahead. Sam Young, well known in Truckee,
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 149
Nev., is conductor on a freight train running to Visalia,
on the Southern Pacific Road. One night when the
moon was full, his train was steaming over the broad
plain near Visalia, just as the orb of night was rising."
" Orb of night is very good indeed," said Love.
" The moon," continued " Rich," " appeared like a lo-
comotive head-light, in front of the train, apparently, at
considerable distance ahead. The instant he saw the
light, Sam yelled to the engineer to stop the train; 'for
God's sake to reverse.'
" The alarm was given, the brakes whistled down in a
jiffy, and the train stopped. The conductor jumped off
and ran on ahead a few hundred yards as rapidly as pos-
sible on the track, and commenced swinging his red lan-
tern as a signal of danger to the supposed approaching
train. After worrying himself out in running and swing-
ing his light, he stopped a moment, completely out of
breath, and took a square look at the fancied monster in
front. Sam Young saw the ' man in the moon,' and the
truth flashed upon him that he was awfully bilked. He
hastened back to his train, and told the engineer to go
ahead, as the danger of a collision was more remote than
he had calculated. The engineer, fireman, and brake-
man discovered the mistake before the conductor did,
and when the latter returned, there was such an explosion
of laughter as was probably never heard before on a
freight train. Sam promised to stand treat for the next
six months if the parties who witnessed the blunder
would agree not to make it public. But the joke was
too broad and too good to keep, and, in spite of the prom-
ises made, it leaked out."
" Cook, of the P., P. & J., went into Chicago and paid
a visit to the Dollar Store. After making some trifling
ISO
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE KAIL.
purchases, he offered the pretty saleswoman a dollar for a
kiss. The lady agreed and delivered the goods.
" Now,' says she, with a pretty foreign accent, ' give
me another dollar, and you may kiss my mother.' Cook
was delighted with the adventure, and paid over the dol-
lar. The girl went out and returned, leading in a wrin-
kled old bleared-eyed female, hobbling on crutches.
" Here she is ! '
" ' Not any, if you please, Miss the fact of it is, I
never mix drinks. I am a freight conductor on the P., P.
& J. Send her to the depot, and I'll bill her through at
special rates ! ' "
Bill and George Blazer are well-known on the H. &
St. Joe, the one a conductor and the other a brakeman.
It was never known what they did with that cotton, but
every time they stop at a certain station, a colored girl
pushes her way through the crowd, and cries :
" Say, dar ! you Blazer boys if you don't fetch back dat
ar cotton, I call out your name loud as ever I kin holler."
Drovers, as a class, are the most impudent and tyranni-
cal patrons of the Road. It does the boys good to get
away with one occasionally. Ike Lovvrey known on
the C, B. & Q. as "Champagne Charley" went out
with a stock train one day, with " Reddy " Blair as brake-
man. When they got to Altona, Ike sent Reddy back
to tell the drovers that " now was a good time to get up
their stock." One of the drovers said to Reddy, " Is my
stock down?" " Yes, sir," replied the brakeman. "You
are a liar," said the insolent drover. " You are a gentle-
man," responded Reddy, "which is the biggest lie I
know of." "Get out of this car," said the drover.
" Who is running this car ? " retorted Reddy. " I can
run it if I want to," said the drover, waxing warm. " I
W'jJ\ J
ifm*
XJoMPLrrtH<f the Job qw the t^ack 5
PA9 151 '
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 151
came here like a gentleman to notify you that your
stock was down, and you insult me. Now get out of
this car, or there will be a piece of stock down that
can't get up." Reddy then went for him, and put a
Mansard roof over both of his eyes, punching him se-
verely, and drawing him from the car, completing the job
on the track. Then, calling assistance, the drover was
carried back into the car, where the boys washed and
dressed his wounds. The affair was subsequently inves-
tigated at headquarters, and the decision rendered that
employes are justified in protecting their rights and dig-
nity upon all occasions. This incident occurred about six
months ago, and last week the drover's shirt collar was
dug out of a coal-pit near Altona, and it now hangs in a
frame in Roger's way-car as a bloody warning to all
drovers not to drive too fast.
" I am sorry to learn from the Eastern papers," said
Burton, " that my old friend Jim Allison has gone into
the counterfeit-money business. Not that he was caught
in the act of ' shoving the queer,' but that he had the
' queer ' in his possession, there can be no doubt. Jim
is agent at Le Roy, on the Erie Road, and is known all
over that line as the prince of good fellows, and very
fond of a joke. A short time since he received a valu-
able (?) package from those sharpers in New York a
small box of sawdust and $92 in bogus greenbacks.
Upon paying the C. O. D. and examining his prize, Jim
acknowledged that it was the first time he ever bought a
'sell,' and paid for it in cash, in his life. The papers
of Le Roy thereupon published the facts, and warned
the public to look out for Allison and his counterfeit
money."
Simpson, of Buda, says there is a sign hung in a con-
152
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
spicuous place at a certain station on the T., P. & W.,
with the following, painted in gilt letters :
" NOTIS.
" Aple bois are forbid to pedle tliar stuff on these Platform."
It is feared the author of that "Notis" is subject to
attacks of appleplexy.
"The system of promotion on some of our roads,"
remarked the Honorable Freeman of the Kansas Pacific,
"if there is a system at all, is not very well defined.
There is a passenger conductor on the C, B. & Q. Road
in Illinois, that jumped all apprenticeship and rode into
his present berth over the heads of good men who had
been at the wheel for years. Another worthy fellow on
the same road, Jim Howland for instance, recently got a
freight train after braking on the same road for ten or
twelve years. Sometimes, of course, it is the fault of the
men, but it oftener happens that their claims and merits
are overlooked.
" Now, there's Billy Murphy, running passenger on the
Albany and Susquehanna. He was formerly a Justice of
the Peace at Schoharra, New York a man of few trials.
Through the influence of influential friends, he got his
present position, never serving a minute at the wheel.
I'm all smashed up now, and can't get about much, so I'd
like to ask Billy if he remembers when he pitched into
my peanut stand at Schoharra, and if he has ever asked
to be forgiven? Also, if 'Fat Jack' (he used to weigh
450, boys, as sure as that's a crutch) if Fat Jack and Cas.
Griffin, of the same road, remember that they were run-
ning as bounty-jumpers in the army when I was U. S.
Deputy Marshal at Albany?"
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 153
Collins " Jack, tell us how you fellows scared Craw-
ley out on the U. P., or whatever road it was."
Freeman "Well; we thought it was a joke then;
but it's hardly worth telling here. Johnnie Crawley was
train despatcher then, good man, too. He is now train
despatcher of the Lake Superior and Minnesota Road,
headquarters at Duluth. We started out of Bear river
with a gravel train ; at the time I had charge of the
pit. Crawley was on, and when we got near Aspen he
thought we wasn't going quite fast enough. I told the
engineer to let her out. In a few moments that train
was flying. It wasn't certain that the wheels would stand
that rate of speed. Crawley told me to hold her up, and
Frank Brown, the conductor, tried to put on the brakes.
I picked up a chunk of coal and told Brown to let her
go, or I'd bust his head, until Crawley, pale with fear,
yelled out :
" ' This train will never reach the pit in the world ;
she's bound for the ditch.'
"And he got ready to jump ; but we made the pit."
" Walbaum, a well-known railway-bridge builder, was
travelling on a train not long since, when he was accosted
by a couple of swindlers, who showed him a mysterious
padlock. They were willing to bet $10 that he couldn't
open it, after being shown how it was done. The trick,
it seems, was in changing the key. Frazier, one of Wal-
baum' s men, took the bet, put up the money, got a coup-
ling pin, and opened it at a single blow. He took the
money. I saw that myself."
"Dutch Cooper" was coming west on 25, and
wanted to stop in the hollow near Wyanet for water.
Frank Avery, the brakeman, proposed to give him a
"lightning stop" right there, all by himself! Coming
154
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE HAIL.
from Princeton to Wyanet, Frank fell asleep and failed
to get out. The consequence was they ran by the tub,
clear into Wyanet (you see it was down grade), Cooper
just screaming for brakes. He was mad, and backed up
to the tub, swearing like a streak.
In the meantime, Frank was scratching his head, and
studying how he was to get- out of the scrape. While
Cooper was taking water, Avery goes over on the engine
and says :
" Cooper, I like to broke my leg back there."
"Howishdat?" asked C.
"Well, I got out on top, and tried to set the brake,
but the derned dog broke, and threw me off nearly
killed me."
" Ish dat so ? Veil, I wash pooty tarn mad ; but I
feelsh better now, as you most broke your tam leg ! "
That's the way Avery made the " lightning stop ! "
Whenever a cur, be he of high or low degree, catches
Satterfield's eye, that moment the cur is doomed. " Sat "
is known as the " Dog Charmer," and he has charmed,
captured, and winged 2 78 dogs since he has been run-
ning on the East End. It is a source of revenue not to
be despised. His method is similar to that of the snake
that is said to charm birds.
He catches the dog's eye, looks at him steadily for a
moment, and transfixes him to the spot. Then, making
a few passes, the animal is magnetized, and completely
under his control. He has been known to draw a favor-
ite dog to him in this way, while the master's hand was
caressing his head, and the poor thing would glide to
" Sat's " side, impelled by a force it was impossible to re-
sist
"Conductor P. ('now this is all among ourselves, you
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 155
know,' said Rogers) was sitting in his way-car, one day,
with his legs crossed, one foot, of course, in air. A wag-
gish passenger, who had been noticing the size and pecu-
liar shape of the pedals, approached P., and taking out
his pocket-book, said :
" I want to bet five dollars that that is the biggest and
ugliest foot now living.'
" Put up your money,' said P., ' I take that bet.'
" A brakeman was called and the stakes placed in his
hands. P. then coolly exhibited his other foot.
" ' The money is yours,' exclaimed the astonished pas-
senger, and P. was five dollars ahead."
" Don't, John ! Don't, John 'These words tumbling
off the top of a female voice, caused us to rush for Sat-
terfield' s way-car. There we found John hugging a Dutch
girl, and kissing her in the intervals of her screams. Af-
ter we got them separated, John explained.
" < You see she had no monish, and no ticket, and I
told her she must get off. Den she say, if I let her ride,
she would let me hug her and kiss her. I was yoost get-
tin' my fare, boys dat ish all. She not know de fare to
Aurora, and she can no go at half price.'
" So ' Sat ' went for her again, claiming full fare ! "
Jim Workins was coming along with the way freight
on the middle division. Arriving at Arlington, he found
several trains there blocked up. Jim got his train stopped,
and went back to flag the train following him. After
stopping them pretty close to the way-car, he went inside,
and feeling tired went to sleep.
Courtney, his engineer, oiled the rails in front of the
drivers, got up on his engine, pulled her wide open, and
called for brakes. Jim jumped to his feet, and sure that
everything was going to pieces, leaped through the cu-
j $6 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
pola, and lit on his hands and feet. Never pausing to
look around, he kept up this leap-frog gait until he cleared
the fence.
Merrill ran across a band of Ku Klux, with hook
eyes, on the Buda grade. Much alarmed, he reported
the circumstance at headquarters, describing their myste-
rious movements, and detailing all the facts. An order
was issued immediately that all trains should run slow
down that grade, and uncle Billy Hughes furnished extra
lamps. George was complimented for working in the in-
terest of the Company when it was discovered that the
Ku Klux were a number of coal-miners with lamps in
their caps.
"Jim Richardson, or ' Rich] as we called him," said
Lucas, " used to brake for Dan Elliott. On one occasion,
when running on the Lewiston Branch, he discovered a
leak, a fluid of an attractive color and odor issuing from
one of the cars. He went for it with his best forefinger,
sucking as he went. Pleased with the taste, and anxious
to capture a bucket of the wine, he out with his key and
went in. He found it a car of green hides, leaking ; and
' Rich ' has been hiding ever since."
Hackney, of the Fox River Valley Road, had a
brakeman of whom he stood in the greatest fear. One
time he got off the track, at Bonner's Grove, on the East
End. He was on the engine at the time, and in backing
got her off. Having no flag, he had tied his coat on the
back end of the train, but the circumstance had slipped
his mind. Starting back, the wind blew the sleeves of the
coat violently, and Hackney, thinking it was his brakeman
on his muscle, broke for the prairie. Thaf s an actual
fact. He is frequently asked to explain about that Phan-
tom Brakeman !
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 157
Crysdale " We had a smash-up down near Du Quoin
on the 111. Central once, when S. M. Avery was Supt. of
the Central Branch. I don't know now how much stock
was killed, but the next day Mr. Avery got the following
letter :
DoocoiN, Jan. 18
Smavery
Sentralia.
I want you to cum yer at oncet theres
bin- a smashup i want you to bring six dollars to pay for mi hog
-the hog squeeled, but the engine wouldn't stop its a bore.
, J. Cerample.
"The old man thought it was 'a bore' sure enough."
Sayre "About the only thing a conductor fears is
the dense fog. We were caught in one, one trip, and if
you will let me spit it out in my own way, maybe you can
understand. .
< Hank,' says I, 'you go over and tell Spielman (engi-
neer) to keep a wild eye. Second extra on No. 18, left
Leland about five minutes ago. Look back pretty often,
see if they're coming. Tell Spielman to side-track and
let No Four by, at Sandwich. Tell him to get in out of
the way, quicker than lightning, for No. Four will be
whooping 'em up, by the time she strikes the whistling
post. I don't want to drop any torpedo on her to-night,
for Si. has got 28 just out of the shop and he'd hate aw-
fully to flag that engine.'
"Hank says, 'All right,' and rushes up the ladder,
and over on to the engine. Fog! No, I guess not.
On arriving at the switch, Spielman whistles down brakes.
I call out from the way-car and ask, What's the mat-
ter? Si. says, Extra ahead on one side-track, engine
I58 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
disabled on the other. About that time I could hear No.
Four coming over the iron bridge, about a mile off ! I
picked up red light and ran back with the flag. Ran as
far as I dared ; slapped down two torpedoes. Ran a lit-
tle farther, and could just see No. Four's head-light.
Looked to be about forty feet in the air. Could almost
feel her hot breath, as she came tearing along, anxious to
make up every lost minute. Si. behind her anxious for
the reputation of his better half, as he styled his engine
was peering through the fog. As he* see the red flag
waved across the track, he whistled down brakes ; and
without waiting to shut her off, hauled her over. Rail
being wet, she slipped, and as he struck the torpedoes, he
slipped out between tender and engine, and took a look
at things. About that time his head-light shone on the
hind end of a way-car, and four or five drovers were
climbing off boot in one hand, and a prod in the other
making for a corn-field.
"A miss is as good as a mile, so Si. felt greatly re-
lieved, when he discovered that the only damage done,
was the wetting of the 28 all over with that peculiar mix-
ture of coal-dust and water, for which the boys have an
appropriate name. Believe me, I don't like those fogs."
When Foster was braking for John "Sat," on the
East End, the train broke in two. "Sat" sent Foster
back for a pin, and the new brakeman returned with a
common brass pin, that one of the boys had pulled out
of his coat. "Sat" was a little surprised, but he told
him to take the pin and go back and couple the cars.
Foster saw the point, and his knowledge of coupling-pins
dates from that occasion.
"In regard to promotion," said George, "men who
brake on freight trains are the first to rise. The brake-
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. 159
man on a first-class passenger never looks out for any
other train, while the brakeman on freight has to look out
for every other train, especially if he is running extra.
He must know the time-card thoroughly, and keep his
eyes open all the time. A man who wants to learn rail-
roading must begin with this practice. The freight brake-
man goes through an experience, while the man on a
passenger goes through nothing."
PUT DOWN THE BRAKES.
No matter how well the track is laid,
No matter how strong the engine is made,
When you find it running on the downward grade,
Put down the brakes !
If the demon of drink has entered the soul,
And his power is getting beyond your control,
And dragging you on to a terrible goal,
Put down the brakes !
Remember the adage, "Don't trifle with fire,"
Temptation, you know, is always a liar ;
If you want to crush out the burning desire,
Put down the brakes !
Are you running in debt by living too fast ?
Do you look back with shame on a profitless past,
And feel that your ruin is coming at last ?
Put down the brakes I
Whether for knowledge, for honor or gain,
You are fast wearing out your body and brain,
'Till nature no longer can bear the strain,
Put down the brakes !
The human is weak, since Adam's fall ;
Beware how you yield to appetite's call ;
160 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
" Be temperate in all things," was practised by Paul ;
Put down the brakes !
Ah, a terrible thing is human life !
Its track with many a danger is rife ;
Do you seek for the victor's crown in the strife ?
Put down the brakes I
XV
DEAD AND NO NAME.
[December i8, 1867, several persons were burned to death in the disaster at
Angola. A young lady was found in the rear end of a coach, seated upright, in a
natural position Dead ! There were traces of fire upon the hat or bonnet, the
hair was slightly burned, and a portion of the dress ; the eyes and lips wearing
marks of violence. There were evidences of rare beauty ; the clothing was costly
and elegant ; but there was nothing to lead to identification, save a single initial
found upon her garments, the plain letter " M." There was no luggage, and
Mr. John Fisk, the conductor, had but a vague impression that she was going to
Le Roy. The car in which she was found was only slightly damaged by fire, and
it was supposed that she died from fright. Others thought that some villain,
taking advantage of the excitement and confusion, attempted a nameless crime,
and she died through fear of a worse fate than death by fire. All efforts to obtain
a clue to her name and history, were in vain.]
HERE is the face,
With marks of fire on it, remains of a bonnet,
A piece of veil round it, just as they found it,
But no certain trace.
Eyes all a blot ;
The torn lips remaining, a half smile retaining
Closed with a prayer could God have been there,
Or was she forgot ?
A bit of rare lace ;
Around the neck turning, saved from the burning,
Charged with a clue, to some lover true,
Who knew her embrace.
i6 2 DEAD AND NO NAME.
Handkerchief ? Yes !
Richly embroidered, now soiled and disordered,
Here, near the hem, the plain letter " M,"
The rest you may guess.
A torn glove there !
In it still lingers the shape of the fingers ;
That some one has pressed, may be, and caressed,
So slender and fair.
A ring here you see !
No name or date on it, yet love must have won it ;
A pledge of vows plighted, perhaps of love slighted-
Where can he be ?
One heavy shawl,
On the seat near her, it could not be clearer ;
Spotted and soiled, torn and all spoiled
And that is all !
Under the hat,
With the bit of veil round it, just as they found it,
Rich golden hair a mother somewhere,
Would recognize that !
Years now have passed ;
And her sad history remains yet a mystery,
Attempts to obtain some clue were in vain,
Till hope died at last.
Dead and no name !
Was it some sorrow, the dread of to-morrow,
Or was there foul play ? There is no one to say,
And no one to blame.
XVI.
HOW TO DETECT THEM.
BY AN OLD CONDUCTOR.
|HEN the Fall season fairly sets in, the matri-
monial market is buoyant, and hundreds of
miss-guided young men rush into the holy es-
tate. A more than usual number of wedding
tourists are noticed by conductors on different railroads.
Of course, it is not on account of being ashamed of
each other that they try to disguise their situation, but
simply to avoid being criticised and remarked upon by
profane strangers. Thus they lay the fond unction to
their souls, that they are travelling incog.! But, good
gracious ! how badly fooled they are. It is one of the
easiest things in the world, to the careful eye, to tell pre-
cisely how many days, or even hours, they have been
spliced. They can sometimes be detected by the great
pains they take to appear like old married people or
cousins, as they sit demurely in the cars. In many
cases their dress in part exposes them it is so apropos
to the occasion, being neat, symmetrical, and bran new.
1 64 H0W T0 DETECT THEM.
In cases where the parties have good taste, there is no
gaudiness or flub-dubbing about their attire. All glitter
and display are thrown aside, and the city belle appears
more like a Quakeress in her simple travelling dress of
drab or mouse-color.
Sometimes the youthful culprits engage in playing at
lovers, or affect a flirtation, but it is always a stupendous
failure. Their eyes betray too much happiness for wit
and repartee ; there is such a peculiar softness and ten-
derness in their confidential whispers, and such a pride
in the possession of each other, that none around
them are deceived. It is generally the case, that the
bridegroom makes the discovery first, and throws his arm
carelessly around the shoulders of his wife, as much as to
say defiantly to the envious, " Who's afraid ? Who knows
but we have been married many years ? " Not know ?
The guilty slyness in the way that arm steals round,
first on the seat-back, then gradually closer, while the
bride evinces a silent pleasure as she acquiesces in a
very unperceiving way. Indeed, it is she who lets the
cat out of the bag, most quickly. The narrow-gauge
seats are most preferable to the broad-gauge, and if you
sit on the seat back of them, you will observe at first
the lady's shoulders are not even they incline just a lit-
tle to her partner. After travelling in this position a few
hours, her neck gets as limber as a washed paper collar,
and her head gravitates to the broad shoulders of her
husband, and there it nestles innocently and confidingly,
in the repose of honest, pure, and truthful love. At
times, in spite of all precautions, a tress or two of her
golden locks will get loose and drop on her shoulder.
But it almost seems that there is order and neatness in
their very disorder and abandon.
ON COMMISSION. 1 65
So they go, fancying themselves lost in the crowd un-
noticed, unknown ; with their secret locked up in their
own palpitating bosoms. Poor young people !
ON COMMISSION.
A conductor's complaint.
I wish to ask what I am to do for the abatement of a
certain nuisance, to which I am much exposed. The
question is one of those which I feel sure that nobody on
earth can answer, for which reason I am the more deeply
impressed with the necessity of putting it.
Mine is the case of A. B., a single man, who says he
is not likely to marry. His age he refuses to state with
precision, but admits that it is not under thirty-nine. Is
a passenger conductor, and not a wealthy man. To
make the most of his income, he has to exercise the
most rigid economy. He resides at a station on a road
running into the city of New York you may call it
Poughkeepsie or Salamanca. It was his fate to have
been born and reared in that town, and to be personally
acquainted with every man, woman, and child in it. Is
quite sure that he never takes his train from that station
without being loaded with commissions. Cannot be de-
ceived in his recollection on that subject. Said com-
missions have on several occasions broken his peace,
and deprived him of the liberty of action to which he
considers himself by law entitled.
He thinks it may be true, that as a general rule, a lit-
tle commission taken singly is a trifle; but that little
commissions become onerous by reason of their multi-
!66 ON COMMISSION.
tude and variety. He doubts whether a conductor start-
ing out on his run, be not an ass when he permits his pan-
niers to be laden to his own discomfort. His particular
misery is, that he himself knows not how to avoid being
such an ass, unless he be content that all his friends
should regard him as a good-for-nothing, disobliging cur-
mudgeon. He has thought of quitting Poughkeepsie or
Salamanca forever ; he has also thought of never quitting
it for half an hour. The origin of A. B.'s grievance is to
be found, perhaps, in his possession of a certain reputa-
tion for the scrupulous exactness which is not uncommon
in bachelors ; and for good-nature, as well as a conscien-
tious desire to discharge himself honestly of any trust re-
posed in him. He has known young friends to keep
a commission in reserve three weeks, in order that it
might be his felicity to execute it.
A. B. further declares that he has one day of his own
between trips. On this day he is visited by numerous
friends each with a commission. First, a small boy
brings a note saying that Mrs. Williams would be glad to
see Mr. A. B. at once, on important business. After the
ascent of a steep and not undefiled staircase, the depo-
nent states that he knocked at Mrs. Williams' door,
which was inscribed with her name on a brass plate.
After a sufficient number of courtesies had passed, depo-
nent made allusion to the " important business," upon
which there ensued, as nearly as he can remember, the
following conversation :
Mrs. Williams " Oh, my dear Mr. A. B., you have no
idea how anxious I am that nothing will prevent you
from taking your train to-morrow. You know the state
poor little Hofer is in. His second teeth, I may say, are
all breaking out in a mob over the roof of his mouth, in-
ON COMMISSION. 1 67
stead of coming up in file out of his gums. You know
Mr. Teether in New York ? "
A. .#. "The great dentist?"
Mrs. Williams " Oh, yes. You know every one. I
have been told that if I would take a model of my Hofer's
mouth in wax, and send it to him, he can have an instru-
ment made which, when worn, will restore the teeth to
order. I have already taken the model, and it will carry
very nicely in this little tin box. How long are you in
New York?"
A. B. u One day."
Mrs. W. " I am sure he can have it made in time,
at least, for your next trip. I wish Hofer was here, that
you might look into his mouth, then you would know
how to explain it exactly."
Deponent further states that, having parted with this
lady, with a promise to fulfil her wish, and the model of
Hofer's mouth in his pocket, he called next upon Mrs.
Ferguson. A. B. deposes that a discharge of cannon
could not have startled him more than the production of
a fragile box of card-board, which seemed to be about a
foot and a half high, and of the same circumference a
muff and tippet box which she placed sideways before
him on a chair, and which she declared would take up no
room at all in his car. That it was simply a muff and
tippet that a relative in New York had commissioned
her to send by the first opportunity.
A. B. " Pardon me, madam, but would it not be
better to send it by express. I should be obliged to
carry it about loose."
Mrs. F. " I dare not trust those rough expressmen,
they are so careless. I should not object to your carry-
ing it loose, if you will be sure and not lose it." (After-
!68 ON COMMISSION.
thought, expressed with a sweet smile.) "It can sit on
your knee."
A. B. felt bound to smile amiably, and further deposes
that he took the muff and tippet, and was under the
necessity of paying the expressage on the parcel out of
his own pocket.
Mr. and Mrs. Comstock were next visited. This
married couple had been resident during three years in
my station.
Mrs. Comstock "Ah, yes, to-morrow is your day.
How I wish ladies could be conductors. It seems years
since I have been in New York ; but then home is where
husband and children are. By the bye, speaking of chil-
dren, I must not forget a little commission I have to
give you."
A. B. "What is it; anything in my power I shall do
with all my heart for you, Mrs. Comstock."
Mrs. C. (laughing) " Oh, I have only a very little,
foolish thing to ask. You will laugh, perhaps, but I re-
member hearing my mother speak of the benefit her
children derived from it. An anodyne necklace perhaps
two "
A. B." Half a dozen, if you like."
Mrs. C. (playing with her baby) "That will be too
many. One can get nothing here. No, two. Then my
little darling will not have the pain her sister had in cut-
ting tooti-ittle-teethums."
A. B. u Good-day, then."
Deponent adds, that he paid other visits, or rather re-
plied to other notes in person and received other com-
missions. But the whole harvest of commissions was not
reaped. In the evening there came a note from an old
skeleton of sixty-five, who seemed to be fully persuaded
ON COMMISSION. ifig
that cod-liver oil would bring flesh to her bones, and the
color of youth to her cheek ; and that cod-liver oil was to
be had pure nowhere but in New York. Deponent was
to bring some of that oil (which he utterly loathes and
abominates). The bottle was not likely to break if care-
fully packed in his valise or ticket-box. The next morn-
ing, A. B. further states, as he was about to start his train,
he felt his arm grasped from behind, and a soft voice
said, " One word, only one word." The voice was that
of our leading milliner. Her commission was, that I
should see a sister of hers and tell her that their very
amiable and esteemed friend Mrs. R. was in Poughkeep-
sie or Salamanca.
That trip was tolerably well got through. The mes-
sage concerning the existence in Poughkeepsie or Sala-
manca, of the amiable and esteemed Mrs. R., was deliv-
ered to the fascinating sister in that lady's garden.
Sister " How good and kind you are ! And this
charming Mrs. R., you will see her ? "
A. B. " It would give me great happiness to do so."
Sister " Ah ! Yes, yes " (with her hand on her fore-
head, in deep thought). " And what have I " (suddenly
very radiant). " What happy ideas ! "
The lady darted forward, and selected from a stand, a
tall flowering shrub, of what nature complainant (who is
no botanist) is unable to testify ; but it shot up to the
height of three feet from a large pot, and was covered
with blossoms of a powerful and sweet, but very sickly
odor.
Sister " Dear Mr. A. B., I will send it ; you will take
it?"
A. B. " Utterly impossible, madam ! "
Sister (caressingly) " Yes, yes ! You are so good
8
170
ON COMMISSION.
you cannot refuse me. What do you say ? It will be
spoiled ? Not one blossom will ever reach her ? "
(Looks very serious, calls a gardener, and gives an order
in which A. B. catches the word pasteboard.) " Nothing
is impossible, my kind friend, for you and for me.
Good-day, sir. My kindest friendship for . Quick,
Adolphe ! quick!"
Adolphe was quick, and complainant testifies that he
had scarcely reached the depot to take his train, when
Adolphe appeared ; that he had seated himself in a coach
for a moment's chat with an old friend, when Adolphe
succeeded in thrusting between his legs the detested
shrub, so packed as to bear a strong resemblance to a
funnel, and of such height that it reached to within not
many inches of his nose. He pulled the rope and the
train started. Before twenty minutes had elapsed, a
young woman who was sitting opposite the said shrub,
turned suddenly pale and then fainted ; whereupon a man
who seemed to be her husband, uttering many vile
phrases, wrenched the said shrub from between A. B.'s
legs, and without a word of apology, threw it out of the
window ! Did A. B. expostulate ? Oh, no !
A. B. deposes that he fulfilled all commissions as his
power served, but that he had firmly resolved on leaving
New York to forget the cod-liver oil. Fancy his surprise,
therefore, when only fifteen miles out, a brakeman came
with a package that had been left with him for me, as the
train was pulling out. This was a half-gallon bottle of
that medicine which was to his mind so offensive and
disgusting. The lady for whom it was intended had,
with the prudence of age, despatched her order in a letter
to Helmbold, to save her kind friend the trouble of a
journey to his store.
ON COMMISSION.
171
I have set down my case as judiciously and temperately
as I can, and now I ask what I am to do? What
is any man to do who is in a position similar to
mine?
XVII.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
The Railway Telegraph Service The Train Despatcher The Six
Spectres Out on the Line The Irishman's Telegram Bixbie's
Customer The Loafer's Seat A Negative Bliss The Dot and
Dash How Operators carry them Scene at a Dinner-Table
The Night-Operator's Ruse The Superintendent and the Opera-
torAn Incident Telegraph Gossip.
jOW that trains are " run " by telegraph on all
our prominent railways, only the most experi-
enced and expert operators are employed. They
must be "sound" operators and sound men in
every instance. A visit to the train-despatcher's office
at any railway headquarters, will cause one to wonder
how admirably the system of railway telegraphy operates.
Here are, say, half a dozen of the oldest and most ex-
perienced of operators, giving their ears to the "tick"
and their eyes to the card ; watching through the wires
the machinery moving in all directions over the entire
line, with a firm but invisible grasp upon each train.
The "order" that requires but a moment in transmission
may prevent collision, avoid delay and confusion, and
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. ^3
save life ; while the ominous tick tells of the position of
every train, and conveys to the superintendent of the
road the tidings, " all is well ! "
These six spectres are enclosed in a wooden cage.
You peer at them through gratings, and wonder when they
will get out. You make signs to them, but they are busy
with more important signs ; you offer tobacco, but they
do not bite. No word is spoken, and there is no noise ;
no sound save the irrepressible dot and dash. In instant
communication with the whole world, they have no word
for you. If you give them ten words, they look up the
tariff, but they must be unspoken. The telegraph has a
silent language of its own, current only with the battery
that supplies the breath, and the magic key that gives it
utterance. Ignoring space, its operators seldom meet
except in the city offices ; and it may be said that they
are never separated, save through the temporary inter-
position of a broken wire, a storm, or ground connec-
tions.
While all orders for the running of trains issue from
the train-master's office, the telegraphist who superin-
tends their transmission is really the responsible agent.
On many roads, he assumes the entire responsibility,
while others receive both the credit and the pay. By
constant practice and close observation, he acquires a
knowledge of the road and the capacity of its machinery
possessed by no other official to the same degree. There
are two " sets " of telegraph train despatchers at head-
quarters, one for day and the other for night duty.
Night and day operators are also employed at all junc-
tions, meeting-places, and crossings. The day despatch-
es when relieved by the night assistant, is glad to retire in
order to recuperate for the next day. And the night de-
174
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
spatcher, having brought his trains with their precious
freight through dangerous storms, and the thousand and
one unforeseen difficulties that threaten their safe transit,
is only too glad to be relieved from the strain. Conviv-
ial meetings or gatherings for social intercourse in the
language of the outside world, are as rare as they are
dangerous. If the despatcher has an hour's leisure, he
must not load it down with burdens that may compromise
either his brain or his nerve. He is, therefore, a person
of correct and exemplary habits, with the disposition and
proclivities of a recluse. He never forgets that an un-
steady hand upon the key, a bewildered brain, or con-
fused faculties might damage the property of his corpora-
tion far into the millions, or sacrifice thousands of valu-
able lives.
His office wears the stillness and gloom of the powder-
house. No one not immediately connected with his de-
partment of the service is permitted to cross the forbid-
den threshold. His every sign is obeyed with scrupulous
exactness, and he sends out his dot and his dash as though
the "message" were the edict of a king. With one hand
upon the key, and the other at the adjustment, the ear is
bent to note the slightest change in the " tick," for the
burden of its monotonous whisper is safety or disaster.
He cannot leave it for a moment, and you may be sure a
laugh or joke is rarely heard in the prison-house of the
despatcher.
" Out on the line," however, where the duties are less
exacting, the railway operator is frequently found sunning
himself on the platform, always within hearing distance
of his instrument. If he be located at a country station,
he has both his leisure and his sport. He is not always
the verdant person that he may seem to travelling eyes.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
175
He may be fresh from some large city office, ripe in knowl-
edge and experience, sent down to the country to supply
some temporary vacancy. He is always ready to move,
and knowing that ability in his profession is always in
demand, he is not particular as to where he makes his
home. You meet Mr. Charlie de Forest with Zantzinger
at Mobile, Alabama, to-day, and next month he is work-
ing the Commercial " Circuit " at San Francisco.
Mr. Frank C. Jones, whom you left at the lunch-room
in Savannah, Georgia, met you, in a fortnight, on the
platform at Elmira, New York, with a telegram concern-
ing your luggage. As a class, they were at one time the
most industrious of travellers, but since the business has
become more thoroughly systematized, and the pay about
the same in all parts of the country, there is less disposi-
tion on the part of telegraphists to wander from place to
place.
The railway telegraphist, in the pay of the " Company,"
is not eager to do a very extensive business in the com-
mercial line. With him, this is rather a source of annoy-
ance. It necessitates the keeping of complicated books,
and adds but little to the railroad salary. He, is not
always as polite and courteous to the wayfarer as the
travelling public have a right to expect.
An Irishman went into the depot office at Parkersburg,
and directed a despatch for Baltimore. After watching
the operator for some time, he modestly asked if he
would soon send it. He replied that it was a half hour
gone, to which Pat responded :
" How the divil can it be half an hour gone, while
there it is hangin' on the hook, while ye were clickin'
and fiddlin' with that little brass play-toy there ? "
The window was slammed in the poor man's face.
176
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
Another Celtic traveller struck Bixbie of the Erie at
Elmira. Bixbie is an innocent and truthful young man.
" Do yez charge enybody for the eddress, when yez
sind a bit by tillergraft ? "
" Never," replied the operator.
" Do yez charge for signin' the name ? "
" Never, sir."
" Thin sind this, and my brother will know I am here :
4 To James O'Brien, New York. Signed, Michael
O'Brien: "
The operators at division headquarters on the C, B.
& Q. were much annoyed by loafers who gathered
beneath the windows on the outside. A box running
the full length of the office had heretofore furnished a
tempting seat for the habitues. The telegraphists covered
this with zinc and connected it with the batteries. A
person sitting on the box without touching it with his
hands would not feel the electricity ; but if his hands
drop on the box or he puts them thereon to assist him
in rising, he receives such a sudden and astonishing
shock as sends him an unbelievable number of feet
towards the roof or the adjacent tracks. Any good day
a person may see some of these unfortunates unex-
pectedly struck with this domesticated lightning, de-
scribing a fifty-feet parabola in the air.
Girls have recently " come on," so that what was once
a "positive" blessing for a time promised to become a
"negative" bliss. But Woolsey says, " It's no use ; they
can't do it. In Baden, the Government decided to em-
ploy women as telegraphers. All went well enough for
a while, but soon they began to talk with each other
about parties, beaux, and Dolly Vardens, and kept it up
at such a rate, that their clatter monopolized the wire.
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. ijj
The Government has permitted them to retire to private
life."
The operator always carries his dot and dash with him.
You will find him making a key of his knife at the table
if his dinner is slow, and communicating with his wife in
monosyllables, which he learns to believe save both time
and money. It is the ruling passion strong in death.
When a comrade was summoned to the death-bed of
poor Phillips at New Albany, he had but an hour or two
to live.
" No use, boys," said he ; "no battery no current
zinc all eaten away, and no time to galvanize. Guess
I'll have to cut off!"
Bruch says " Talking about fellows carrying the dots
and dashes with them, I know two who made it pay.
They left the Louisville office, and went down the
Mississippi river on a sporting tour playing cards for
money. They managed always to sit opposite each
other, and conversed freely with their fingers on the
table. They won every time, and being apparently
strangers, the trick was never suspected."
Charles Temple, of the Ohio and Mississippi Lines,
tells of an adventure while on a recent visit to San Fran-
cisco. He was invited to dine with Swain at the Occi-
dental. While at the table, they amused themselves by
clicking upon their plates with their knife or spoon, in
the language well known to telegraph officials, but un-
familiar to other people. One would pick up his knife
and convey to the other a remark like this :
" Why is this butter like the offence of Hamlet's uncle ?"
" I give it up," replied his friend.
" Because," he telegraphs, " it's rank, and smells to
heaven ! "
8*
i 7 8
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
At this extraordinary intimation given at the expense
of the landlord, who sits by perfectly unconscious of the
joke, the other is overcome with laughter, in which the
first joins, while all wonder what may be the cause of
their merriment.
A newly-married pair sat opposite these wags, whom
they imagined to be from the country. The young lady,
who was right good-looking, came next in order, as the
butt of their telegraphic hits.
"What a lovely little pigeon this is opposite, isn't
she?" clicked No. i.
" Perfectly charming," answered No. 2 ; " looks as if
butter wouldn't melt in her mouth. Just married, I
guess. If that country fool alongside of her were out of
the way, I would toss her a crust of bread."
" Never mind him," replied No. 1 ; "give her a nudge
with your foot, under the table."
To the consternation of the foolish young men, the
bridegroom picked up his knife, and on his empty glass
clicked off the following despatch his face flushed, and
his brow set in a very determined manner :
" This lady is my wife, and as soon as she finishes her
dinner, I propose to give both of you a sound thrash-
ing."
This was enough to bring a very solemn look upon
the two faces opposite. There was no more joking, and
no appetite for the remainder of the meal. The offenders
immediately arose and slipped out of the way, fearing to
encounter the bridegroom, who was himself an expert
telegraphist.
" I was night operator," says Wheeler, "down there at
Centralia on the Branch, for awhile, but didn't know a
soul on the line. Lewis was superintendent, but some-
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
179
how or other I couldn't even get acquainted with him.
Yes, my name is Bob. There was a plug at Du Quoin
a boy, I supposed who went for me the very first
night. There wasn't much to do but receive reports of
trains, and the rest of the time ' Dn ' * and I fought like
cats, though a good many miles apart.
" It went on that way night after night, until he called
me a name I. couldn't take. I replied with a worse one.
Then he told me in a business-like way, that he would be
down the next night to thrash me. Knowing that he
couldn't leave, I told him to come on that he would
never get back alive.
"Next afternoon, I learned, to my horror, that ' Dn'
could take the passenger, run down to Centralia, remain
twelve minutes, and take the next passenger back. The
cheerful information also reached me, that ' D?i ' was a
grown man, stout, and well-proportioned ; while I was a
light fellow, weighing scarcely a hundred pounds.
" We had a day operator, named Jones ; he used to be
manager of a New Orleans office before the war, and had
been in the Confederate army. Good friend of mine,
and I knew he would fight. I asked him what he was
going to do that night. He said he was going to play
billiards, up in the club-room, with Joe Cormick. I told
him I expected a. friend on the 9.30 train, and would like
to spend an hour with him, if he would stay for me and
watch the instruments. He said certainly, if I would
come up and remind him. Of course, I reminded him,
ana when the train came in sight he was seated in my
chair, taking reports. I then got out in a dark place and
watched. I saw a strapping big fellow go into the office,
* " Dn " the telegraph call for Du Quoin.
^O EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
and I went round to the other entrance, to see the sport
at a safe distance.
"By the time I got there the fun had commenced.
'I?n' had struck the ' night operator' over the head with
a cane, much to my friend Jones' surprise and disgust.
Then Jones let him have a heavy paper-weight right in
the snoot, which scattered him some, and made the blood
fly. Then Cormick coming in on some errand, saw how
the game was, and took a hand. I think ' Dn ' was the
worst-licked operator I ever saw ! Yes, he managed to
get to the train, and resigned, of course, the next day.
The best of it all was, I got the credit of trouncing
him, and the 'night operator at Centralia' was a terror
to the boys on that line for some time. Joe Cormick,
who was a popular conductor, as well as an estima-
ble citizen, was afterwards elected Mayor of Centra-
lia.
" I resigned, too, and went on a line where they were
just introducing girls. The current of business is more
refined where girls are employed on a telegraph line, and
there is less danger of personal collisions."
Marcellus, who worked at the next table, remarked,
that he formerly ran a telegraph and ticket office on the
same road. " I had heard that Mr. J s, Sup't. at Am-
boy, was a common-looking gentleman, of quiet manners,
rather rough exterior, and that if you obeyed rules and
orders strictly, you could get on with him well enough.
Well, old Keeler gave us strict orders that no one should
be allowed in the ladies' waiting-room, after the trains
had passed at night. Loafers and dead-beats had been
in the habit of slipping in there o' winter nights, and
sleeping by the hot stove. Before I went there I was
told some thieves, taking advantage of this looseness, had
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. j8i
made a raid on the ticket-office one night which was in
the same room and the old man had to make good the
loss. So I was charged to enforce this ' order ' strictly,
and, if necessary, call in the night watchman and sta-
tion baggage-man to my assistance.
" Well, the depot was a mile from any hotel, and there
was no gas there then. One night we had a fearful acci-
dent at the Long Bridge at La Salle. Train got off at
the steam shovel ; engine and cars ; couldn't get it on ;
nothing could pass ; regular block. Conductor came over
to telegraph J s. J s answered, would ' come
out on wrecking engine.' It was about three o'clock in
the morning dark and stormy when they got the track
nearly cleared, and I went back to my office to go to bed.
Unlocked the door of ladies' room ; found a lamp dimly
burning, and a man doubled up in one of the seats, sound
asleep. Went out again ; hunted up night watchman ;
woke up baggage-man both strapping big Dutchmen
told 'em to draw that man out of ladies' room.
" ' He say he vos von supertender,' said the watchman
' so I make him in.'
" ' Superintendent ! that's played out he's over at the
wreck, if he's anywhere. Come, get him out that's
Keeler's orders.'
" They went at it, and when they got him half-way out
he was wide-awake.
" ' Where is Mr. Keeler ? ' he inquired.
" ' Gone to bed long ago,' I answered.
" 'Where is the operator ?'
" ' I am here, sir, obeying orders.'
" ' Don't you know, sir, that I am Mr. J s, super-
intendent of this division ? '
" ' I do not, sir. Never saw you before. The fact of
!8 2 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
it is, sir, Mr. Keeler's order does not permit us to know
anybody. Have you a pass, sir ? '
" ' Pass for what ? '
" ' Pass to sleep in the ladies' room ! '
" ' No, sir, I do not'
" 'Well, sir, then you'll have to pass out. It's a very
old joke indeed, sir.'
" ' I tell you I am the superintendent I "
" ' Can't help it, sir, if you were the President; Keeler's
orders must be obeyed. Go on, boys.'
" And they went on.
" Nine o'clock, I think it was, same morning, they
woke me up to send important message. Opened office ;
few minutes in came party of the night before.
" ' Morning, sir,' I said.
" 'Good-morning,' dryly.
" ' Where did you sleep last night ?'
" ' Partly in the ladies' room, partly in passenger coach.
Give me a blank.'
" Gave him blank, and he wrote the following :
"J. R. Ambov:
"Track clear; leave in twenty minutes. The operator
here is all right.
"'John C. J s.'
" Here was a go, sure enough. I tried to explain, but
he took me by the hand and said :
" ' Young man, you are somewhat impulsive and pro-
fane, but you've got the right idea about orders'
"Then he was off! Bless his old soul, I would walk
fifty miles to shake that hand again. He is still superin-
tendent of the two divisions at Amboy j beloved by his
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. i^
employes, and endeared to them by a thousand deeds
of kindness."
Hunter, of the Western Union Lines, relates the follow-
ing incident concerning the early days of telegraphing,
and the incredulity with which the first feats of that art
were received by the public.
" The first telegraphic lines in this country were laid
early in 1844, between Washington and Baltimore, after
a long struggle with Congress for a $30,000 subsidy,
which was finally granted. Among the first messages sent
was an announcement of the nomination of James K.
Polk by the Democratic Convention sitting in Baltimore.
During the campaign of 1844 the establishment of this
' great line ' thirty-nine miles long ' connecting Balti-
more and the national capital with electric wires,' was
largely dwelt upon by the stump orators of both sides.
The Hon. James J. Farran, at present one of the proprie-
tors of the Cincinnati Enquirer, and at that time, I be-
lieve, a candidate for Congress, made a speech in Cin-
cinnati, one night, in which he related as one of the mar-
vels of the age that Polk's nomination was known in
Washington within half an hour after it had been made.
He was loudly applauded for this ; but there was one
man in the crowd, and it was no less a person than Mr.
Washington McLean then as now a prominent politician
who could not believe it. On the contrary, he jumped
up and cried out : ' Jim Farran, you're the biggest liar I
ever heard. You know very well that ain't so. It would
take that long to copy off the message, let alone to send
it forty miles on a wire.' "
As our best-informed telegraphists are in doubt as to
whom should be awarded the chief honor of giving the
magnetic telegraph to the world, the author goes out of
j84 everyday life on the rail.
his way to record here a few observations that may help
to correct a popular error. The following curious pas-
sage occurs in one of Addison's essays, published in No.
241 of the first volume of the Spectator :
" Strada, in one of his Prolusions, gives an account of
a chimerical correspondence between two friends by the
help of a certain loadstone, which had such virtue in it,
that if it touched two sewing needles, when one of the
needles so touched began to move, the other, though at
ever so great a distance, moved at the same time, and in
the same manner. He tells us, that the two friends,
being each of them possessed of one of these needles,
made a kind of dial-plate, inscribed with the four-and-
twenty letters in the same manner as the hours of the
day are marked upon the ordinary dial-plate. They then
fixed one of the needles on each of these plates in
such a manner that it could move around without im-
pediment, so as to touch any of the four-and-twenty let-
ters. Upon their separating from one another into dis-
tant countries, they agreed to withdraw themselves punc-
tually into their closets at a certain hour of the day, and
converse with one another by this their invention. Ac-
cordingly when they were some hundred miles asunder,
each of them shut himself up in his closet at the time
appointed, and immediately each cast his eye upon his
dial-plate. If he had a mind to write anything to his
friend, he directed his needle to every letter that formed
the words he had occasion for, making a little pause at
the end of every word or sentence, to avoid confusion.
The friend in the meanwhile saw his own sympathetic
needle moving of itself to every letter which that of his
correspondent pointed at. By this means they talked
together across a whole continent, and conveyed thoughts
to one another in an instant over cities or mountains,
seas or deserts."
This was written on the 6th of December, 1781,
nearly a hundred years ago, long before modern tele-
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
185
graphy was thought of. May not this passage have sug-
gested to Prof. Morse the grand idea which he turned to
such excellent practical account ?
Discoveries rendering the electro-magnetic telegraph
possible were made by Oersted of Copenhagen, in the
year 181 9; others were made by Arago, and Davy, and
Ampere, in 1820, and by Sturgeon, in 1825. None of
them, however, reached the point of discovering a means
of making the wire practically serviceable over any con-
siderable distance. The difficulty was deemed insuper-
able, and Mr. Barlow, of the Royal Military Academy of
Woolwich, England, in his investigations, published in
1825, declared adversely upon the possibility of a tele-
graph. Nothing feasible in the way of discovery was
made for two or three years after, though it seems to be
established that Harrison Gray Dyar, an American, put
a short working line of telegraph in operation on Long
Island, in 1827 or 1828. He used common electricity and
not electro-magnetism, and but one wire, which operated
with a spark, that left red marks upon paper, chemically
prepared. The device of working it by an alphabet, by
spaces of time between sparks, was very nearly in principle
that used by Prof. Morse ; and it is noted as another
curious coincidence, that Morse was the brother-in-law of
Charles Walker, who was the legal counsel of Dyar, at the
time of Dyar's experiments on the electric telegraph. Dyar
asserts that Morse, who was not a man of any scientific
attainments, got his ideas of operating a wire telegraph
from his (Morse's) brother-in-law, the latter having de-
rived them from him, while acting as his counsel years
before. However, this question only affects the validity
of Morse's claim to the invention of the mode of working
the telegraph.
X 86 everyday life on the rail.
The great difficulty in the way of operating the wire at
any distance had not been met until Prof. Henry made
discovery of the fact, in 1828, that a galvanic current
could be transmitted to a great distance with so small a
diminution of force as to produce mechanical effects,
adequate to the desired object, by means of a galvanic
intensity battery. Prof. Morse subsequently availed
himself of the discovery by Prof. Henry, to make tele-
graphy practicable, and profitable to himself. Prof.
Henry, who took out no patent for his discovery, seems
in this, as in his other invaluable scientific labors, to
have sought for no other reward " than the consciousness
of advancing science, the pleasure of discovering new
truths, and the scientific reputation to which those labors
would entitle him."
Up to 1848, Morse seems to have fully conceded that
he was indebted to the discovery of Prof. Henry to ena-
ble him to make the magnetic telegraph successful. At
that time, Morse got into litigation with other parties
over his claim to the monopoly of telegraphic rights, and
he appears to have deemed it necessary to his interest to
depreciate the importance of Henry's discoveries. The
concurrent testimony, however, of leading telegraphic
authorities, and of the very men who were associated
with Morse, in telegraphic patents, go to show, that he
merely availed himself of Henry's discoveries and ap-
plied them to his machine. It does not appear that
Morse ever made a single original discovery in electricity,
magnetism, or electro-magnetism, applicable to the in-
vention of the Telegraph.
Mr. F. Ives Scudamore, Superintendent of the Gov-
ernment telegraphs in Great Britain, relates an incident
in his recent report upon the success of the system of
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL. ^7
employing male and female operatives. After showing
how much the tone of the man has been elevated by
the association, and how well the women perform the
" checking" or " fault-finding " branches of the work, the
gentleman goes on to speak of the friendships formed
between operators, or " clerks " as they are termed
abroad at either end of a telegraph wire. They begin
by chatting in the intervals of their work, and very soon
become fast friends. A telegraph operator at London,
who was engaged on a wire to Berlin, formed an ac-
quaintance with a female operator, who worked on the
same wire in Berlin. This developed into a warm at-
tachment, and without having seen her, made a propo-
sal of marriage, and was accepted. They were married,
and the marriage resulting from their electric affinities is
supposed to have turned out as well as those in which
the senses are more apparently concerned.
Affairs of this kind are not uncommon in this country,
though the employment of females as operators is the
exception rather than the rule. Operators are not rash ;
there is something in the very nature of their work that
makes them the coolest of men. They do not marry
without due acquaintance. An operator at one end of
the wire can readily tell by the way in which the opera-
tor at the other does his work, whether he is passionate
or sulky, cheerful or dull, ill-natured or good-natured,
sanguine or phlegmatic.
The progress of the electric telegraph within the past
six years, has been very great in every quarter of the
globe. Upon this continent, the electric wire extends
!88 EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
from the Gulf of St. Lawrence to the Gulf of Mexico, and
from the Atlantic to the Pacific Ocean. Three cables
span the Atlantic Ocean, connecting America with
Europe, and another submerged in the Gulf Stream,
unites us with the Queen of the Antilles. Unbroken
telegraphic communication exists between all places in
America and all parts of Europe ; with Tripoli and Al-
giers in Africa, Cairo in Egypt, Teheran in Persia, Jeru-
salem in Syria, Bagdad and Nineveh in Asiatic Turkey,
Bombay, Calcutta, and other important cities in India,
with Hong Kong and Shanghai in China, Irkoutsk, the
capital of Eastern Siberia, Kiakhta on the borders of
China, Nangasaki in Japan.
A direct line of telegraph, under one direct control
and management, has recently been established between
London and India, with extensions to Singapore, Hong
Kong, Java, and Australia.
Europe possesses 450,000 miles of telegraphic wire
and 13,000 stations ; America, 180,000 miles of wire and
6,000 stations ; India, 14,000 miles of wire and 200 sta-
tions ; and Australia, 10,000 miles of wire and 270 sta-
tions ; and the extension throughout the world is now at
the rate of 100,000 miles of wire per annum. There are,
in addition, 30,000 miles of submarine telegraph wire
now in successful operation, extending beneath the At-
lantic and German oceans ; the Baltic, North, Mediter-
ranean, Red, Arabian, Japan, and China seas ; the Per-
sian Gulf, the Bay of Biscay, the Strait of Gibraltar, and
the Gulfs of Mexico and St. Lawrence.
More than twenty thousand cities and villages are now
linked in one continuous chain of telegraph stations.
The mysterious wire, with its subtle and invisible influ-
ence, traverses all civilized lands ; passes beneath oceans,
EVERYDAY LIFE ON THE RAIL.
189
seas, and rivers, bearing messages of business, friend-
ship, and love ; and constantly but powerfully contribut-
ing to the peace, happiness, and prosperity of all man-
kind.
XVIII
" COME HOME I "
A teuegraphist's story.
ON'T fret, Mag, for the short time I shall be
away," I said to my little wife, as I put on my
gloves and great-coat.
"Couldn't you stay at home just this one
night, Will ? Do you know I felt so lonely and strange
last night when you were away, and to-night I can
scarcely bear the thought of your being absent so long ! "
She looked up to my face with an anxious gaze, and a
tear stood glistening in the corners of her sweet blue
eyes.
"Why, you little goose," said I, kissing away the
bright tokens of her earnestness, " why should you feel
alarmed ; do I not go every night to see that everything
is ' O. K.' on the line ? I shall be at home by seven
o'clock at the latest, and if you are really afraid to stay
in the house alone, I will send up my brother Bob to
keep you company."
" No ; don't do that ; it would look foolish, and Bob
would only laugh at me when he came. He does not
"COME ffOMEPi
IQI
understand me. I think no one understands me except
you, dear Will."
" Thank you, Mag ; I think I understand you. There
is nothing to fear here in Cottage Grove, where the whole
village is ready to come at your call. Here are the street
cars, so good-by, and don't fret."
I was off, but my wife lingered by the porch, following
me with her eyes ; and so long as the house was in sight
I could look back and see her white dress shimmering,
ghost-like, in the light which streamed through the open
door.
I was telegraph superintendent of the well, we will
call it the Wellington Railway. The trains were run en-
tirely by telegraph ; and our despatcher having been taken
suddenly ill, we had put a skilful operator in his place,
who sometimes yielded to a desire for grog. I thought
it best therefore to be near at hand in case anything
should go wrong. I had been married but a few months,
and was by no means reconciled to the necessity of leav-
ing my wife home to pass the night in " that nasty old
box," as Mag sometimes called my office. My dead father
had left me the home-place at Cottage Grove, a village
connected with the metropolis by a street railway.
A short ride brought me to my post. There was noth-
ing extraordinary in the duty to which I had been
called away, nor was it any new experience to me ;
but on that night my mind was filled with vague, indefin-
able fears, for which I tried in vain to account. The
night was clear, and away in the north-western sky the
aurora borealis was flitting to and fro in a thousand strange
fantastic shapes. On entering the office, the night op-
erator whom I had come to relieve was ready to depart.
" No use for two of us to-night, sir," said he ; "a foreign
192
VCOME HOME!'
current has possession of the instruments, and not an office
has ' called ' for the last hour. Good-night ! "
When I was left alone, I found it was as he had said.
The electric currents which are developed in the atmos-
phere during most meteorological changes, had rendered
the wires quite useless for the time. Seeing that my
office was likely to be a sinecure, I drew my chair to the
stove, and taking down a book, tried to interest myself
in the story. The volume which I had discovered was
" Jane Eyre," but it had no power to quiet my wild, wan-
dering thoughts. While I was turning over the leaves,
the stillness was startled by the sharp, quick click of one
of my " sounders," as though some one was attempting to
" call." With a shiver of alarm I turned quickly to the
adjustment, but soon perceived that the dot and dash had
been sounded by no earthly power, and I knew that it
had been produced by a current of atmospheric electricity
acting upon the wires.
Smiling at the nervousness which caused me to start at
so ordinary an occurrence, I turned from my desk, and
again sat down by the fire. But smile as I would, and
reason as I might, I felt that I was fast succumbing to
vague, foundationless fears. Thinking that the atmos-
phere of the room, which I felt close and hot, might have
something to do with my peculiar condition of mind, I
flung open the door, and stepped outside in the hope
that the cool air might scare away the phantoms of my
brain. As I crossed the threshold, the midnight express
crashed past with a speed and force which shook every
timber of the building, and uttering a loud shriek, disap-
peared into the tunnel at the end of the steep gradient, on
the summit of which my station was placed. When it had
gone, there was stillness, stillness broken if I can call
"COME HOME!"
193
it broken only by the peculiar sighing of the air passing
along the wires, which is heard even in the calmest of
nights. I stood and listened to the strange, melancholy,
^Eolian-harp-like sound, now so faint as to be almost in-
audible, and anon swelling into a wild low wailing. I
looked up and saw Orion and the Pleiades, and thought
how often on nights, not long ago, when I had watched
for Maggie in the wood, I had gazed up through the tall
sombre pines and watched their trembling fires. From
that my mind reverted to the earnestness with which my
wife had asked me to remain at home that night, and the
unusual pensiveness of her manner when she bade me
good-by. What could be the meaning of it all ? As a
general rule, I had a most profound disbelief in omens,
presentiments, and all sorts of superstition ; but in spite
of it, I felt that I would have given a good deal, at that
time, to be transported just for one minute to my home,
to see whether all was well there. The express had
passed, the trains were all hurrying " on time " to their
connections, and it was not probable that any " orders"
would be sent or received. So, I might have called up
Gordon, my assistant, who lodged near by, but as I could
give no good reason for going away, I resolved to stay
where I was, and get through the night as best I could.
I turned inside again, and poked up the coals with rather
more noise and vigor than was necessary. I filled my
pipe and lit it, but the weed had lost its tranquillizing
power. As the wreaths curled upward, I saw my wife's
face, looking at me tearfully as when I had left her. Again
one of the instruments clicked sharply, but as before,
with no intelligible sound. I leaned my elbows on the
desk, and with head between my hands, watched the
armiture as a cat watches a mouse.
194
"COME HOME!"
An hour might have passed thus, when I was again
startled by the instrument's nervous dot and dash. This
time it was louder and more urgent, and it seemed to
me, though I may err here, with a peculiar unearthly
sound, such as I had never heard before. I am utterly
unable to tell in what manner the impression was pro-
duced, but it seemed as if there mingled with the metallic
click the tone of a human voice the voice of one I
knew. The armiture began to move more regularly
now, and to make sounds that my practised ear under-
stood. Slowly came two dots, a space and a dot, as if
some novice were working the instrument, and then the
letters "C o m e" were signalled. No sooner had
I read off the final "e," than to my amazement and ter-
ror I saw the "key" move as if touched by some invis-
ible hand, and the signal " O. K." was made, which the
receiver always transmits at the end of a message.
A cold thrill ran through me, and I felt as if every
drop of blood were leaving my heart. Could I have
been the subject of an optical delusion ? I knew that
such was not the case, for I had plainly heard the click
of the "sounder," and saw the armiture move in obedience
to the current that made the sound. And now I could
perceive that another word was being slowly spelt out.
But so bewildered and terrified was I, that I failed to
catch the sounds. With an overwhelming feeling of awe,
I watched the lever intently while the letters were again
signalled, and this time I read " Ho m e." I stood
petrified with fear and amazement, half believing that I was
in a dream, for reason refused to accept the evidence of
sense. Could that be a message for me ? If so, whence
came it ? What hand had sent it ? Could it be that
some power higher than that of nature thus warned me
"COME HOME!"
195
of impending danger? Should I obey the mysterious
summons ?
Deliberating thus, the instrument again sounded, with
a clangor seemingly imperious and unearthly. After a
few uncertain movements, the words "Come home
come home " reached my practised ear with unerring
distinctness. I could remain at my post no longer.
Come what might, I felt that I had no alternative but to
obey. I ran to the house where my assistant lodged, and
on rousing the inmates and gaining admission, told him he
must take my place immediately, as I had been called
suddenly away. The man seemed somewhat surprised
at my excited and startled manner, but what he said or
did, I cannot recollect. I rushed to the barn where a
horse was stalled, and perceiving a saddle hanging on
the wall, threw it on his back, and in a moment or two
was dashing along the road in the direction of home. I
shall never forget that ride. Although I urged my horse
with whip and voice, until he flew rather than galloped,
the pace was far too slow for my excited mind. At last,
breathless and panting, we clattered up the street of the
village near which I lived. Suddenly a horse and rider
appeared at the other end of the street, and a hoarse
voice uttered a loud cry of " Fire / " At the same in-
stant, the church bell was rung violently, and at once, as
if by a common impulse, the whole village started into
life. Lights appeared in the houses, and an hundred
windows were dashed quickly up. I saw white figures
standing at these windows, and heard nervous voices cry
" Where?" Checking my horse with a jerk which
threw him on his haunches, I listened for the reply :
" The Woolsey House."
Great Heaven ! my worst fears were realized. It was
196
"COME HOME!"
my own home. I choked down the agony, which almost
forced a cry, and pressing onward with redoubled speed,
soon arrived at the scene of the fire. The house was a
large old one, and when I reached it, smoke was issuing
in thick, murky volumes from the windows of the second
flat, while fierce tongues of flame were already leaping
along the roof. A crowd of men were hurrying confused-
ly about with buckets and pails of water. In the centre
of a group of women, I found our maid, Mary, stretched
on the grass in a swoon. " My wife ! " I exclaimed; as
I rushed forward, " where is she ? " " God knows, sir,"
said one of the men ; " we have twice tried to reach the
second flat, but were each time driven back by the
smoke and fire." Without uttering a word, I entered
the house, and ran along the lobby. The stair, fortu-
nately, was built of stone, but the wood-work on each side
was one mass of blazing and crackling flame. Before
I had taken three steps, I fell back, blinded, fainting, and
half- suffocated with the smoke. Two men who had fol-
lowed me caught me in their arms, and tried to restrain
me by force from endeavoring to ascend again. " Don't
attempt it," they said ; " you will only lose your own life
and can't save hers." " Let go, you cowards !" I cried,
as soon as I could speak ; and with the strength of mad-
ness dashed them aside. I rushed upstairs, and this
time succeeded in reaching the first landing in safety.
The room which we used as our bedchamber led off a
small parlor which was situated on this flat. Groping
my way through the smoke, I found the door, but to my
horror, it was locked ! I dashed myself against it again
and again, but it resisted all my efforts. To return as I
had come was now impossible, and I knew that the only
hope of saving even my own life was to go forward. De-
"COME HOME I"
197
spair gave me strength ; and lifting my foot I struck it
violently against one of the lower panels of the door. It
yielded a little. Another blow, and it was driven in. I
crept through the opening, but so thick was the smoke in
the parlor that I could distinguish nothing. " Maggie,
Maggie ! " I shrieked, " where are you ? " but no answer
was returned. Crossing the parlor I gained our bed-
room door. To my joy it was open, and stretched on
the floor I found the apparently lifeless form of my wife.
I bent Over her, and on placing my hand on her heart, I
found that it was still beating. I lifted her very tenderly
and gently, and carried her in my arms to the window,
which I broke open. Of what followed I am only dimly
conscious; I have a confused remembrance of men
bringing a ladder, and strong arms helping us down, and
the people cheering ; but it is all very vague and indis-
tinct. My next recollection is that of finding myself in a
neighbor's house all bruised and weak, but with my own
wife bending over me, and administering to my wants
with loving hands.
On the evening of the next day, when the short win-
ter twilight was fast closing round, and the first snow-
flakes were falling, I lay thinking over the strange events
which I have tried to relate. Maggie drew a little stool
close to the couch. I had not mentioned a word to any-
body concerning the warning which I had so mysteriously
received. When questioned as to what caused me to return
so opportunely, I had always made some evasive answer.
I feared the reality would never have obtained belief.
" Willie," said the soft low voice of my wife, " if you
had not come home "
" Hush, my darling. Don't talk like that, for I can't
bear even to think of it."
I9 8 "COME HOME!"
" But it might have been. And do you know, Willie,
I had such a strange dream on that awful night ? "
" A dream, Maggie ? Tell me what it was."
"You remember," said she, drawing closer to me,
" the evening you took Mary and me into the telegraph
office, and told us all about the batteries, and magnets,
and electricity, and a great many things which we couldn't
understand at all, though we pretended to do so, lest you
should think us stupid ? "
" Perfectly."
" And you remember how I wanted to send a message
with my own hands, and you threw the instruments into
what you called ' short circuit ' ? "
"Yes."
"You made me take hold of the 'key,' and then you
guided it while I sent a message to your brother Robert,
who was in the office at Centralia. And the end of it
was ' Come home come home ! ' which I repeated
over and over until I could do it quite well without your
help?"
I turned quickly around, but she was gazing intently
at the fire, and did not perceive the startled look I gave
her.
" Well," she continued, " the night before last, when
you were away, I could not sleep for a long time after I
went to bed ; and when I did sleep, I dreamed such a
horrible dream. I thought I was in your office again,
and had hurried there because I was afraid of some Ter-
rible Thing. I did not know what it was, but it was
close behind me, and I thought nobody could save me
but you. But you were not there, and I seized the key,
and wrote the words, ' Come home, come home ! ' as you
had taught me, thinking that would bring you. Then,
"COME HOME!'
199
when you did not come, I felt its hot breath on my neck,
as if it were just going to clutch me in its dreadful arms,
and I screamed so loud that I awoke. The room was
all dark and filled with smoke, so thick that when I
jumped up, I fainted for want of air. And O Willie, if
you had not come just when you did, I might "
" There, Maggie, don't let us think of what might have
been, but rather let us be thankful that we are spared to
each other stilL"
XIX.
THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR.
A passenger's story.
GIVE this little sketch to the public with the
hope that some one may give me a rational
H solution of an event that has perplexed me for
years. My address is " Mrs. Joseph Lorrimer,
Harrisburg, Pennsylvania." My husband is overseer of
the Crosby Iron Works, just outside that city.
I met the hero of this story during my bridal tour.
It was a quiet wedding, and there being no money
to spare on either side, after a family breakfast, we
went directly to the cars, and started for our future
home.
I was a young thing then, just eighteen. The trip
from Philadelphia to Harrisburg was a wonderful trip
to me, who had never taken an hour's ride on the cars
before in my life.
I gazed with eager eyes upon the country through
which we passed, and all that was going on around me.
' The passengers ; the car and its fixtures ; the conductor
THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR. 20 1
and the brakeman ; were all objects whose novelty gave
me plenty of food for thought.
At Lancaster the cars stopped some time for dinner ;
and just as they were about to start again, our conductor
entered the car, ushering in an old lady in Quaker garb,
beneath whose deep bonnet was visible a kind, plump,
rosy face, with bright-spectacled eyes.
She glanced round on either side as she advanced up
the aisle in search of a seat, and, in obedience to a nudge
from me, Joseph rose, and beckoning to the conductor,
said:
"There is a seat for the lady here."
Smilingly the old lady approached. I commenced to
gather up the shawls and packages that lay upon the va-
cant seat, that it might be turned to its proper position,
but the old lady checked me.
" Don't trouble thyself, friend ; I can sit just as well
with the seat as it is ; " and without further ceremony she
ensconced herself opposite me, while the one-eyed con-
ductor deposited a large covered bandbox at her feet,
and paid her so many little attentions, at the same time
addressing her in so familiar and affectionate a manner,
that I saw at once she was no stranger to him.
A glance at the kind old face opposite soon told me
that they were mother and son, for the two faces were
wonderfully alike, especially in the open, cheerful expres-
sion.
Drawn toward her at once, we soon became quite so-
ciable. As I had surmised, the conductor was her son,
and the old lady was very proud and fond of him indeed.
He was a fine, portly-looking man, with genial brown
whiskers and curly hair. He would have been really
handsome, had it not been for the loss of one eye. This
9*
202 THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR.
had been lost by disease, the exterior of the eye retain-
ing its original expression. The remaining eye was blue
and bright, as jolly and sparkling as the rest of his good-
humored face.
He stopped to have a word with his mother, and as
she was talking with us, we very naturally all fell into con-
versation together. He had seen a great deal of life on
the rail, and his conversation to me, at least, was vastly
entertaining.
Among other interesting things he explained to us the
signs and signals used by railroad officials upon the road.
One of these signals the only one I need mention here
he said was as follows :
When a person standing in the road in front of or by
the side of a car, throws both hands rapidly forward, as if
motioning for the cars to go backward, he means to give
information that there is "danger ahead."
"When you see that signal given, ma'am," said our
conductor, "if the cars don't obey it by backing, do you
prepare yourself for a flying leap ; for the chances are
that you have to practise it before long."
He spoke lightly, but, noticing that the ideas suggested
were not very pleasant ones to me, he changed the sub-
ject, and I soon forgot the little feeling of discomfort his
words had occasioned.
The old lady did not travel with us far. She stopped
at a way station some twenty-five miles west of Lancaster,
where, she informed us, she had a daughter living. Her
own home she had already told us was in Lancaster,
where she lived with a married daughter, who kept a
boarding-house. She gave us one of this daughter's cards,
and Joseph promised if ever he had occasion to visit Lan-
caster he would try to find her out
THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR.
203
It is not my purpose to detain the reader with any de-
tails of my private history, further than is necessary to
give a just comprehension of what is to follow. Two
years had elapsed before I was called upon to take the
second journey, to the events of which what I have al-
ready narrated forms a necessary prelude. This time I
was journeying alone from Harrisburg to Philadelphia,
upon a visit to my parents, whom I had not seen since
my marriage.
I was very ill for some time after my baby's birth, and
after I had regained my health, the little fellow was taken
ill. After nursing him all summer, he finally died. I
was so weak and miserable myself, that I could not strug-
gle with my grief as I should have done ; I pined and
fretted and wasted away till the doctor ordered a change
of scene ; something to cheer me up, or he would not
answer for my life.
It was not acceptable advice to me. I did not want
to be cheered or amused. I did not want to leave home
and the dear reminders of my dead baby. Above all, I
did not want to leave my husband, for I felt a supersti-
tious dread that he too would be taken from me. He
could not leave his business now, but promised to join
me as soon as he could. So he wrote to father that I
would be in Philadelphia on a certain day, and having
put me in the cars at Harrisburg, he knew there was very
little doubt but that I should reach Philadelphia after a
comfortable half-day's ride.
Ah ! how different was this trip from the one I had
taken two years before ! How different was I the wan-
faced, hollow-eyed invalid in my mourning robes from
the shy blooming girl, in her bridal array, who found
so much to amuse and interest her in that brief journey.
204
THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR.
Nothing interested me now all was wearisome and mo-
notonous.
I did rouse up a little as the conductor approached to
collect my fare the remembrance of the one-eyed man
and his nice little mother occurred to me the first time
for many months. The conductor, however, was not my
old acquaintance, being a sallow, dark-eyed, cross-looking
man, as different as possible from the other one. I felt a
little disappointed at first, but after he left me I leaned my
head back again and thought no more about the matter.
After a while I fell into a dose, which lasted until the
call of " Lancaster twenty minutes for dinner ! " ringing
through the cars aroused me and informed me that we
were just entering that city.
I sat up then, sleepily and languidly. It was a warm
day in early October, and the windows of the car were
lowered ; I leaned my elbow upon the sash, and looked
out upon the scene before me. As I was thus gazing,
drowsy and indifferent, neither caring nor thinking much
about what I saw, I noticed a man upon the roadside, a
little in front of the car in which I sat, gesticulating vio-
lently with' his hands and arms.
The next minute I was sitting bolt upright in my seat,
my heart leaping almost into my mouth with sudden
fright, for, in the gestures that were being made, I recog-
nized the signal, which, two years before, the one-eyed
conductor had told me meant " danger ahead."
The cars were not moving very rapidly, and, during
the moment - that we were passing by the man who had
given the signal, I had a full view of him his face being
turned towards the cars, and his eyes meeting mine so
directly that I could have spoken to him had I chosen.
I recognized him at once it was the one-eyed conductor;
THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR.
205
and, seeing that, I was worse scared than ever, being now
quite confirmed in my belief that an accident was impend-
ing ; for I knew that he must occupy some responsible
position upon the road, and could, therefore, have made
no mistake in the matter.
No one else, however, either inside or outside of the
car seemed to partake of my alarm. The cars were
slackening their speed, but that was because we were
approaching a station, and from no other cause that I
could ascertain. I had not intended getting out of the
cars until I had reached the end of my journey, but I had
been so startled by what I had seen that I could not sit
quiet in my seat.
I got out with the rest of the passengers, but did not
follow them to the hotel. I stood upon the platform,
gazing up and down the track uneasily, but could see
nothing at all that could awaken apprehension.
The one-eyed conductor was nowhere to be seen,
though I watched the road, in the direction where we
had passed him, for some time, expecting every moment
to see him come into sight.
A. porter, trundling a wheelbarrow, passed me, and
of him I ventured timidly to inquire
" Is there anything the matter with the engine or with
the track?"
" Not as I know on," he answered gruffly, and passed
on.
I was still terribly uneasy ; I was certain that I had
not been mistaken in the man or the signal ; the latter,
especially, I remembered a forward motion with both
hands, as if directing the cars to back. I could recall
distinctly the face and gestures of the conductor when he
had explained it to me, as also his words, " If you ever
206 THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR.
see that signal given, prepare for a flying leap, for the
probabilities are you'll soon have to take it ; " and the
longer I dwelt upon what I had witnessed, the more con-
vinced did I become that the signal had not been given
causelessly.
I went into a waiting-room to sit down until I could de-
termine what it would be best for me to do. I felt a most
invincible repugnance to returning to the cars and con-
tinuing my journey ; the excitement and worry had made
me sick and faint, and I felt that I ran a great risk of
becoming ill before I reached my journey's end, even if
there was no other danger dreaded. What if I should
stay over at Lancaster until next day, and telegraph to
father to come to me there ? And at the same instant
I remembered that there was in my travelling satchel, in
the little outer pocket where it had rested undisturbed
for two years, the card which the old Quaker lady had
given me, bearing the name and address of her daughter,
who kept a boarding-house. That remembrance decided
me ; if I could find lodging at that place, I would remain
over night at Lancaster.
There were plenty of conveyances around the depot ;
and summoning a driver to me, I showed him the card,
and asked him if he knew the address.
"Certainly, mum," he said, promptly; "take you
there in ten minutes ; Mrs. Elwood's boarding-house ;
quiet place, but excellent accommodations, mum."
Thus assured, I entered his carriage, and he fulfilled
his promise by setting me down, after a short drive, in
front of an unassuming, two-story frame house, whose
quiet, orderly appearance made it look very unlike a
boarding-house. A boarding-house it proved to be, how-
ever, and in the landlady, Mrs. Elwood, who came to
THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR.
207
me after I had waited awhile in the darkened parlor, I
traced at once so strong a resemblance to my old Quaker
friend, as convinced me I had found the place I sought.
As she was leading me upstairs to my room, I ven-
tured to state that I had met her mother two years be-
fore, and had formed a travelling acquaintance with her.
Mrs. El wood's pleasant smile upon hearing this en-
couraged me to ask if her mother was living with her,
adding that I should be pleased to renew the acquaint-
ance if she was.
The reply was in the affirmative.
" You will meet her at dinner, which is served at two ;
and she will be glad enough to have a chat with you, I
venture to say."
I wrote out my telegram to father, and Mrs. Elwood
promised to have it attended to at once for me ; then,
after doing everything for me that kindness could sug-
gest, she left me to the rest I was beginning very much
to feel the need of.
A tidy-looking little maid came to me when the
dinner-bell rang, to show me the way to the dining-room ;
and there the first person I saw was my little old lady,
already seated near the upper end of the long table.
She bowed and smiled when she saw me, but we
were too far apart to engage in any conversation. After
the meal was over she joined me, shook hands very cor-
dially, and invited me to come and sit with her in her
own room.
I was glad to accept the invitation, for in my loneli-
ness the kind face of this chance acquaintance seemed
almost like that of a friend; and soon in one of the
easiest of low-cushioned chairs, in one of the cosiest of
old-lady apartments I was seated, talking more cheer-
208 THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR.
fully and unreservedly than I had talked since my baby's
death.
I expressed some surprise that she recognized me so
promptly, to which she replied :
" I had always a good memory for faces, though
names I am apt to forget ; when my daughter spoke to
me about thee, I could not at all recall thee to mind ;
yet as soon as thee entered the dining-room I remem-
bered thee."
"And yet I do not look much like I did two years
ago," I said sadly.
" That is true, my dear ; thee has altered very much.
I almost wonder now that I should have recognized thee
so promptly. Thee has seen trouble, I fear," gently
touching my black dress.
"Yes," I said, "I have had both sickness and death to
battle with ; I neither look nor feel much like the thought-
less, happy bride whom you met two years ago."
" Is it thy husband who has been taken from thee ? "
"Oh, no, no, no !" I cried, and ready tears rising to
my eyes ; " I don't think I could have lived if I had lost
him. It was my baby died ; that was hard enough
the dearest little blue-eyed darling you ever saw, just ten
months old."
My old friend's face betrayed her sympathy, as she sat
silently waiting for me to regain my composure. After
a little while she said, sighing :
" It is hard to lose a child, whether young or old. -I
can fully sympathize with thee in thy trouble, for I, too,
have lost a son since I last saw thee, though I wear no
outer garb as a badge of my bereavement."
I looked at her, a little surprise mingled with a
sympathy I tried to express.
THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR.
209
" I thought I remembered your telling me you had but
one son ? "
" That was all," she said sorrowfully. " God never
gave me but the one, and him He has taken away."
I stared at her now in undisguised astonishment.
" Was not that gentleman surely, madam, I was not
mistaken in thinking the conductor the gentleman who
brought you into the cars when we met two years ago
was your son ? "
" You are right ; he was the son of whom I have
spoken."
" The one-eyed man ? " I gasped, forgetting delicacy
in astonishment.
The old lady flushed a little.
" Yes, friend, I understand whom thee means ; my poor
Robert had lost the sight of his left eye."
" I saw that man this morning," I cried. " I saw him
from the car-window, before we entered Lancaster.
What strange misunderstanding is this ? "
" Thee has mistaken some one else for him, that is
all," said my. companion gravely. " My boy thee could
not have seen, for he died fifteen months ago the fifteenth
of this month. He died of cholera after only two days'
illness. Thee could not have seen Robert."
" I did though I did ! " I cried, excitedly ; and then
I related to her the whole incident, dwelling particularly
upon the signal I had seen him make a signal I had
never seen but once before in my life, and then made by
him when he explained it to me. "I was not mistaken,"
I concluded ; " I couid not be ; your son was not an
ordinary looking man, and I remember his appearance
distinctly. Surely, as I sit here, I saw this morning the
man who you tell me died fifteen months ago."
2io THE PHANTOM CONDUCTOR.
The old lady looked white and frightened, while, as
for me, I was growing so hysterical with bewilderment
and excitement that she would allow me to pursue the
subject no farther.
She led me to my room and persuaded me to lie down,
leaving me then, for she was too much agitated by the
conversation we had to be able to soothe or quiet me.
I saw her no more that day. I did not go to tea.
The restless night I passed, in conjunction with the ex-
citement of the day, rendered me so seriously unwell that I
was not able to rise until a late hour the following morning.
I was still dressing when there came a rap at my door,
accompanied by the voice of my Quaker friend, asking
admittance.
I opened the door and she entered, with white, awe-
struck face, and hands that trembled so she could hardly
hold the newspaper to which she directed my attention.
" Friend," she said, " thy life has been saved by divine
interposition. The train in which thee was yesterday a
passenger, in less than two hours after thee left it, was
thrown over an embankment, at a place called the ' Gap,'
and half of the passengers have been killed or wounded.
Child ! child ; surely as thee lives that vision of my poor
Robert was sent to save thee ! "
That is all that I have to tell. I know nothing more
about the affair than I have written, and I have no com-
ments to make upon it. I saw that one-eyed conductor
make the signal of " danger ahead ; " I was so much in-
fluenced by what I saw that I could not continue my
journey. In less than two hours after that warning had
been given the danger was met, and death in its most ap-
palling form was the fate of more than fifty of the human
beings that danger signal was meant to warn.
YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT'S WIFE. 2 II
YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT'S WIFE.
A fireman's rhyme.
'Twas my first run on the Hudson,
And I had old Merrick's flame;
Though I won't stop now to tell you
How she got her name and fame,
Leastwise 'twould be a slander
On a good old chum of mine,
Who was killed there near Poughkeepsie,
When he run the Forty-nine.
Well, of course he left his engine.
For I'm sitting in his cab ;
When he pulled out for New Hamburg
But I ain't a-going to blab.
A darnation clever feller,
But a little on the brine,
Awful sweet on Mary Lawler,
But that's no affair of mine.
She was waiter at Jim Foster's,
Out of Rochester a-ways,
Where the passengers got fodder
And the boys well, Wilson says
There's more benzine shoved out o' there,
In small, flat flasks, you know ;
And as I was just a-sayin',
Merrick was this Mary's beau.
She came down to see his body,
Just as though she'd been his wife,
And I never saw a woman
Take on so in all my life ;
Wrung her hands and cried my Lord ! sir,
Tore her hair and yelled like mad.
I've been through some awful scenes, sir,
Never one just quite so bad.
212 YOUR HUMBLE SERVANT'S WIFE.
She kept at it for two hours,
Till the crowd began to move ;
Some with eyes a little moistened,
Some to tell of woman's love.
Then a lot of heavy fellows
Came to sit on Sam's remains ;
Men of weight say three parts tallow,
And a modicum of brains
Turned him over for inspection,
Searched his pockets through and through,
Took his silver watch and wallet,
And a locket, done in blue.
.
Then a scream : and my fine feller
With the trinket in his hand,
Found two arms around his collar
And his body in the sand.
Then she hauled out on a side track,
With the locket safe in tow,
For you see it held his picture
All there was of Merrick now.
" Where was I ? " Why, right on hand, sir ;
He had been a chum of mine
On the " Cincinnati Short-Cut,"
In the year of Fifty-nine.
When I heard of this disaster
I went out to lend a hand,
And was ready when his sweetheart
Laid that fellow in the sand.
That was how I came around it,
And made up to Merrick's flame ;
Told her now I had his engine,
I must have her all the same.
Then she spoke of poor Sam Merrick,
And the time he lost his life ;
Of the locket well, sweet Mary
Is your humble servant's wife I
XX.
THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD.
The Railway in America Russian Railways The Railway in Eng-
land A Wooden Railway The Railway in India Railway
Fortifications The Railway in Germany No Smoking New
Method of Heating Cars Why Accidents never occur on German
Railways A Peruvian Railway Another Triumph for American
Manufacturers The Passenger Tariff on Railways in Europe A
Schedule of Prices.
OWEVER important the changes which railways
have introduced may be, we stand as yet only
on their threshold. This subject must naturally
excite the attention of those who solve social
problems and compare the past with the present to a
higher degree in America than in Europe. In the Old
World the Railway follows the beaten path; connects
cities which exist already, and serves only as a medium
of communication between long-established centres of
population. In the New World, creates the cities which
it is to connect, and by penetrating into the wilderness,
carries thither civilization and its concomitants. In our
Western States, cities are not founded to meet the re-
214
THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD.
quirements of a surrounding population, but the sur-
rounding region is populated to meet the requirements of
cities, which have been imported by the locomotive. In
all countries of Europe, England alone excepted, the
railway is under the control of the Government. In
many countries, this control is absolute and direct. In
England the railway is left entirely to individual enter-
prise, and the result has demonstrated how inadequate a
mere commercial control often is for the security of such
vast industrial undertakings.
The development of the railway system in America is
also left to individual enterprise. A power has thus
grown up in our midst, which not only influences the po-
litical and financial measures of the several local govern-
ments, but threatens to make them subservient to its in-
terests. Various causes bring about this result. First,
the distances in the United States are so immense, that
the lines which connect the main points of trade and
travel are virtually monopolies. Then though private
enterprises, they have received in most instances aid
from the different States, either in money or credits, while
Congress has donated to the more important lines large
portions of the public domain. In this way, millions
upon millions of acres have passed into the possession of
private corporations, which not only own the lines, but
are the lords of the whole contiguous territories. There
are certainly plausible reasons for this liberality. With-
out the railway to fit them for settlement, the vast uncul-
tivated regions of the West would be practically inacces-
sible, and of no more value than the African desert. By
encouraging the construction of railways, which demands
a heavy outlay of capital, with grants of alternate sections
of land along both sides of the line, the remaining lands
THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD. 2 l$
are brought within the reach of the settler, and find ready
sale. At this writing, the matter is being viewed from a
higher standpoint, by a class of people exceedingly jeal-
ous of the growth of this power. Experience teaches
that landed property goes hand in hand with legislative
influence, and even democracies are no exception to the
rule. The consideration of the consequences of these
immense grants of land and their attendant political
power as regards private corporations, is left to the intel-
ligent citizen, while the author proceeds with his gossip
concerning the Railway abroad.
It is good for nations as well as individuals to be re-
lieved of their conceit, especially in matters in which they
flatter themselves they are superior. The Yankee car-
builder will hardly believe that the Russians, who have
been regarded as half-reclaimed savages, are capable of
teaching him a very seasonable lesson.
The first line ever laid down in Russia, extends from
Moscow to St. Petersburg. The train usually consists of
half a dozen cars of immense length. Entering by a
broad, easy staircase and convenient platform, the as-
tonished and delighted traveller finds himself in a saloon,
with a table in the centre, surrounded by sofas and di-
vans. Opening from one side of this saloon, is a pas-
sage leading to the farther end of the carriage, and pass-
ing on to an iron platform outside. Neither height,
stoutness, crinoline, nor other moderate majesty of human
proportions or ornament, creates any obstacle to the
free movements of the passenger. Heavy curtains, when
pushed aside, however, reveal three pleasant, private
apartments, if he desires repose. Each is furnished with
six cosey easy -chairs. Another passage leads to similar
apartments reserved for ladies. A pretty winding stair-
2i6 THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD.
case shows the way to a sleeping-saloon above. The
view from this upper floor is quite charming in fine
weather, and enables the traveller to observe the general
aspect of the country, for miles in every direction.
Everything is admirably arranged. The doors fit closely,
yet open easily ; and as on entering the carriage it is
necessary to pass several of which one shuts as the
other opens there are no drafts from the wintry air out-
side. Over the passage is a loft, where may be stowed
away, within arm's reach, whatever a reasonable person
can expect or desire to have with him. Double windows
exclude the bleak air from rushing directly upon weak
lungs ; but there is so good a system of ventilation,
through the roof, that the cars are never unpleasantly
close. Lastly, there are washing-places, dressing-rooms,
and other conveniences, handsomely fitted up, and scru-
pulously clean.
The amusements in this Traveller's Paradise, are num-
erous and varied. They beguile the tedium of a journey
so effectively, that it seems like a holiday jaunt, rather
than the usual term of imprisonment such journeys are
in other countries. Portable card-tables, wax-candles,
chess, draughts, cards, and books are to be had for the
asking. Cheerful games and good reading are agreeably
varied by festive stoppages, the speed being about
twenty-five miles an hour, and a first-class station every
fifty miles. Here is to be found, at a rational price, tea,
such as scholars love, true nectar for philosophers ; while
ruder sons of Adam may choose other drinks from divers
rows of curiously shaped bottles of wonderful wines, and
richly-colored liqueurs. There are bo?ibo7is and beef,
ducks and geese, partridges and venison, mighty stur-
geon, and the doubtful Russian delicacies of caviare and
THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD.
217
gelinottes. There are even clean waiters, white linen,
flowers, and bright lights. The cheer is so good that par-
ties of fine ladies and smart officers travel from St.
Petersburg and Moscow expressly to dine at these re-
freshment stations. When the traveller has plentifully
regaled himself, according to his eating, and the night
wears on, he has only to tell the railway servant that he
is ready for sleep, and before he need take his place in
the train again, he will find his berth ready. The berths
on this railroad are superior even to those on any Amer-
ican line. They are as good as the berths in the state-
cabin of an American steamer.
There was a time when the English railway was better
than our own, but that time has passed. Take the fastest
train on the direct line between Liverpool and London,
and compare it with similar trains on the Erie. For
this distance of two hundred and ten miles, through first-
class fare is thirty-five shillings, or about nine dollars.
From New York to Elmira, on the Erie, a distance of
two hundred and seven miles, the fare is eight dollars in
a drawing-room coach this as a local rate. The coaches
here are more elegant, and the rates perceptibly cheaper
than in England. The rate of speed is about the same,
thirty miles an hour. There is no comparison in regard
to smoothness. The Erie gives you the motion of an
easy carriage, the English road the rattle of a wheel-
barrow. There are four wheels under the coach, while
here we have twelve. On the English road, a failing
wheel necessitates disaster. Here we may send off from
one to four, and if judiciously selected, the coach spins
on as smoothly as before. We talk and write with ease
on our American lines ; there both are next to impossible.
They surpass us, perhaps, in the division of cars into
10
2i6
ME RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD.
compartments, in their system of taking fares, and in
the politeness and attention of employes, and in other
particulars that affect the traveller, but we shall match
them in this, by and by. At every railway station in
England, there is a stairway or platform or other means
of crossing the track. Persons who disregard the pre-
scribed way and step upon the track, are immediately
seized, and fined twenty-five dollars. In this way the
companies are saved many suits for direct and con-
structive damages. Another economic experiment was
noticed. This is the Railway Savings Bank, to be found
on all the principal lines. The Company brings the bank
to the depositors, saving them the trouble of going to the
bank. In this way they collect the small savings of their
workmen when they are paid off, encouraging and en-
abling them to be provident without inconvenience, and
without excuse for not becoming so. Great success has
attended the plan from the start.
There are 599 railway companies in the United King-
dom. England alone has 434, Scotland 80, and Ireland
85 companies. The lines of about half of the total of
these companies are either leased to or worked by the
great leaders of our railway republic. The other half
are independent. The London and Northwestern, the
" King of Railways," represented by a length of 1,507
miles open, carried in the twelve months ending December,
1871, 32,340,610 passengers, being just about the total
population of all England, Scotland, and Ireland.
China has not a mile of railway, and steadily refuses
all applications and proposals in that direction.
Japan, not waiting for proposals, organized a railway
system a year ago, depending altogether upon her native
population. She is now constructing a road to her great
THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD.
219
seaport, Yokohoma, connecting it with Yeddo, the capi-
tal, and the principal cities of the interior. Part of the
railway system in Japan is already in operation, and is
being pushed forward with all the energy of American
enterprise.
The Pasha, who is the Brother Jonathan of Egypt,
after making the Suez Canal possible, has connected his
principal cities by rail with the seaports on the Mediter-
ranean and the Red Sea. This enterprise is not only in
the interest of commerce, but the wily Pasha has mili-
tary operations in view, as well. He is fortifying his
little kingdom against the schemes of his master, the
Sultan.
They are planning a railway now, up the Nile to the
ancient City of Thebes. What echoes the whistle of the
locomotive may start in those hallowed precincts !
Next in length of mileage to the London and North-
western, comes the Great Western, with 1,387 miles open.
A wooden railway, four feet eight and a half inch
gauge, has been constructed in the province of Quebec,
Canada. The rails are of maple, four by seven inches,
and fourteen feet long ; the ties of hemlock and tamarac.
The line is thirty miles long, and cost $5,000 per mile,
including nine stations, car and locomotive depot, engine
and repairing shops, engine and tender, two passenger
cars, eight grain cars, and twenty-five wood cars. The
trains run with remarkable smoothness, at the rate of
twenty-five miles an hour. Mr. Brooks, in his "Seven
Months' Run," says : " The railroads of India are doing
more for the conversion of Hindoos, if not Mohamme-
dans, than all the missionaries." He should have added,
that England is doing more with these same locomotives
to convert India into British gold.
220 THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD.
You get a good idea of the railway in India, by start-
ing from Calcutta for Benares, en route to Bombay, 1,407
miles distant by rail. You travel by the " East Indian
R. R." line. During the long hours of your journey,
you cannot better amuse yourself than by noticing and
asking questions about the peculiarities of railway con-
struction in India. Remember, that all the iron in the
track, the locomotives and cars, were transported from
England, a voyage by sea of from 15,000 to 20,000
miles. The ties or sleepers of the track are iron, the
roofs of the freight cars are of corrugated iron, the tele-
graph poles are hollow cylinders of galvanized iron, all
from the same country. Nearly everything in the way
of railway material is also manufactured in England.
The head of every department and work in the Indian
railways every conductor and engine-driver, is an
Englishman, imported for the purpose. Educated Indians
are made very useful in subordinate positions at station
and freight houses.
The track is mainly ballasted with broken brick,
burned in kilns along the line. The depot buildings and
fences are constructed of the same earth material, and
the roofs are covered with brick-tile, No insurance is
needed. Every station-house is strongly built, and
adapted for the double purpose of railway traffic and
military fortification, where necessity demands. Every
line of railway, therefore, becomes a line of forts a clever
scheme and of vast importance, when we consider the
infinitely small number of English, compared to the
native population. Clever people, these Anglo ancestors
of ours, in spite of their antipathy to "Alabama" claims
and consequential damages. They have most success-
fully bound India together with their net-work of iron,
THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD. 2 2I
transported from its native English hills 15,000 miles
away. They have ruled those millions of discordant
Indian people with squads of unacclimated troops,
counted only by scores in the comparison.
If you start from St. Goarshausen, for a dash over a
German railway, you take the second-class carriage.
Thus you avoid the soft cushions and red velvet of the
first-class carriage, quite an advantage with the thermome-
tor at 85 in the shade. Many, if not most, of the Ger-
man railways have four classes of carriages, in the grand-
est of which by day sit only princes and fools. By night
in an express train, where there are no sleeping accom-
modations, a first-class carriage is a matter of necessity,
but at no other time. We endeavored once to escape
the tobacco smoke of inferior company, by travelling first-
class. While indulging in congratulations on having a
solitary potentate as a fellow-passenger, the baron brought
out a pipe, with a bowl as big as a coffee cup, and began
to puff away, without so much as saying " by your leave."
You find there a new method of heating cars. A prepa-
ration of wood, charcoal, nitrate of potash and starch, is
employed. It is put in close iron boxes, placed under
the seats, a double top being employed to prevent the
seats of the cars from becoming inconveniently hot. The
prepared charcoal is packed in boxes, in pieces four
inches long, three inches wide, and two inches thick. On
the line between Aix-la-Chapelle and Berlin, eight pieces
constitute the quantity used for heating a compartment.
This serves to warm the car efficiently, during sixteen
hours, the fuel being still red hot at the end of the jour-
ney. The prepared charcoal costs thirty-two shillings
the hundredweight, and the expense of heating one com-
partment is about three farthings an hour.
222 THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD.
In Germany, an accident has never occurred from the
breaking of a rail. Not a person has lost his life, nor has
a person been mutilated from this cause, in all the thirty
or more years that steam carriages have been running on
iron ways in Germany. The reason is plain. It is de-
termined by scientific experiment how long iron will re-
sist, on an average, the beating of wheels, and then the
law requires the railway authorities to put down new rails
periodically, whether those in use exhibit signs of weak-
ness or not. While this involves expense, it is so man-
aged as to be gradually distributed over a period of years,
until the whole is completed within the given time.
The Peruvian Government is now constructing a rail-
way 14,000 feet above the water. It goes over the
Andes, 7,000 feet higher than the highest point of the
Sierra Nevada, crossed by the Central Pacific Railway.
This elevation is within 1,000 feet of perpetual snow.
Mr. Edward H. Spaulding, of Bloomington, New Jersey,
assistant engineer of the Montclair Railway for four
years, is now in that country with some of our best Amer-
ican engineers, who were selected to accomplish this
difficult undertaking.
This railway goes from Peru to Arequipa, forty miles ;
thence to Puno, on Lake Titicaca. This lake is partly
in Peru and partly in Bolivia, and is one of the princi-
pal sources of the Amazon, which is navigable for nearly
4,800 miles. The combined railway and steamboat com-
munication will cross the continent at its widest point.
Mr. Meigs, the contractor, has had contracts in that
country amounting to over $100,000,000. Our Amer-
ican styles of cars and rolling stock will be introduced on
this railway, thus adding another triumph to our Ameri-
can manufactures.
THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD. 223
The following statement of prices on the railways of
Europe, per one hundred miles, in first, second, and
third class carriages, and on express trains, may be of
interest to Americans who visit Europe, or those who
would contrast the expense of travelling :
Russia First-class, 14s. 5d. ; second-class, 10s. iod. ;
third-class, 3 s.
Prussia First-class, 12s. 6d. ; second-class, 10s. ; third
class, 3s. 2d. Express train first-class, 14s. ; second-
class, 12s. The Rhine first-class, us. iod. ; second-
class, 8s. ; third-class, 3s. iod.
Norway First-class, 13s. ; second-class, 9s. ; third-
class, 4s. 6d.
Sweden First-class, us. ; second-class, 7s. 6d. ^third-
class, 4s. od. ; Express trains first-class, 13s. ; second-
class, 1 OS.
Bavaria First-class, 10s. ; second-class, 7s. ; third-
class, 4s. iod.
Belgium First-class, 10s. 3d. ; second-class, 7s. 6d. ;
third-class, 5 s.
Wurtemburg First-class, 10s. 3d. ; second-class, 6s.
8d. ; third-class, 5s. id.
Denmark First-class, 12s. ; second-class, 9s. ; third-
class, 6 s.
Spain First-class, 14s. 7d. ; second-class, 10s. 5& ;
third-class, 6s. 3d.
Austria First-class, 13s. ; second-class, 10s. 3d. ;
third-class, 6s. 6d.
Saxony First-class, us. ; second-class, 8s. 3d. ; third-
class, 6s. 8d.
Switzerland First-class, 12s.; second-class, 9s.;
third-class, 6 s. 8d.
Italy First-class, 14s. ; second-class, 10s. 6d. ; third-
224
THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD.
class, 7s. Express trains first-class, 16s. ; second-class,
12s.
Portugal First-class, 13 s. 3d. ; second-class, 10s. ;
third-class, 7 s.
Holland First-class, 14s. ; second-class, 10s. ; third-
class, 7 s.
France First-class, 14s. 6d. ; second-class, ns. ;
third-class, 7 s. 6d.
Great Britain and Ireland First-class, 18s. 6d. ;
second-class, 13s. 4d. ; third-class, 8s. Express trains
first-class, 21s.; second-class, 16s. 8d.
It will be seen that there are no third-class carriages
on express trains, on European railways. Also, that
Russia and Prussia accommodate the working classes at
the cheapest rates, while the tariff of Great Britain and
Ireland is the highest of all for first, second, and third
class carriages and express trains. It must however be
borne in mind, that in those foreign countries, where the
railways do not belong to the State, the shareholders re-
ceive considerable Government assistance, in considera-
tion of their being compelled to adopt a low tariff. The
rates per mile on these roads, reduced to our currency,
will not bring travel to as low a standard as in this
country, unless we take their third-class carriages. On
their first-class and express trains, the average is from
four cents per mile, to six and a half cents ; on the sec-
ond and third, from two and a quarter to three and three
quarters per mile.
If you are limited to forty days abroad, the expense
will be about $350. For instance, you leave New
York July 20, and arrive in Liverpool on the 30th. In
London three days ; to Paris via Southampton, visiting
Metley, Cowes Rouden, two days, and home in ten days,
THE RAILWAY AT HOME AND ABROAD. 2 2$
costing as follows in gold : Steamer excursion ticket,
$140 ; expenses on board, $10 ; four days in England at
$10 $40; to Paris, via Southampton, $7; extras, $10;
four days in Paris at $5 $20; circular ticket to Switzer-
land, $27.50; eight days at $5 extra, $40; to Liver-
pool from Paris, $35 ; extras, $5, on the voyage home
total, $344.40. The charge of $10 per day in England
will cover railway expenses. The Queen's Hotel, St.
Martin's Le Grand (opposite the post-office), London, is
a good family house rooms from 4s. to 7s. per day
order what you like. The best restaurant in London is
the ' Gaiety,' on the Strand, near the Charing Cross Hotel
dinner admirably served, 3 s. 6d., exclusive of wine.
XXI
THE REAR CAR.
A COMMERCIAL TRAVELLER'S STORY.
Y father, who had been a prosperous merchant
in the city of B., was ruined by the war. ' I took
a position with a large New York house, and
soon became a leading commercial traveller.
Early in the fall of 18 , I took the ten p.m. train from
B. for the city, having in my possession collections to a
large amount.
I had learned that the safest place on the train is the
last car, and as there is usually the most room there, I
took my place in a double seat near its centre. There
were but four other passengers in this car : an old gen-
tleman trying to read a morning paper by the dim lamp-
light, two farmers, and a man who appeared to be an in-
valid bundled up to his eyes in a large shawl.
The train moved off, and as soon as the conductor had
been through the car, I fixed myself for a nap. I ar-
ranged myself with my back toward the front of the car,
and with the aid of my overcoat and bag, made quite a
comfortable couch. I was just dozing off, when I was
THE REAR CAR.
227
again awakened by the brakeman opening the door and
shouting the name of the station we were approaching.
At this place, the old gentleman and the two farmers got
out, leaving the invalid and myself the sole occupants of
the last car.
The train hurried on, and I again closed my eyes. I
soon succeeded in getting to sleep, and was enjoying
quite a comfortable nap, when I was awakened by an un-
comfortable choking sensation and a painful feeling of con-
straint As I attempted to move, I found that I was power-
less, and I realized with feelings of surprise and alarm,
that I was gagged, and bound securely with fine ropes to
the seat in which I sat. My captor now came in front of
me. It was the invalid, whom I now recognized as an un-
principled villain by the name of Bradley Morgan. He had
been, a few months previous, in the employ of my father,
but had robbed us, and had been convicted, on account
of conclusive evidence which I had furnished against
him. He had broken jail, however, and his whereabouts
till now had been unknown to me. With these circum-
stances fresh in my memory, I knew I had little mercy to
expect at the hands of this man. With the utmost cool-
ness, he now examined my pockets, and took from them
my watch, collections, and all the valuables they con-
tained. He even took the gold button from my shirt
collar, and wrenched a large seal ring from the middle
finger of my left hand. This done, he blew out both the
lights of the car, passed out the forward door, and closed
it after him. Another moment, and I heard the rear door
of the forward car open and shut, and I felt relieved that
1 had escaped bodily harm at the hands of the scoundrel.
He had not been gone a minute, when I felt that the
train was gradually lessening in speed. It drifted along
228 THE REAR CAR.
for a little, and slowly came to a stand-still. I supposed
that we had stopped at some small station, and the con-
ductor or some passenger would shortly come in and re-
lieve me from my very unpleasant position. I twisted
my head around as best I could, and looked through the
front windows of the car. I saw the lights of the rest of
the train disappearing in the distance, away down the
road /
May I never feel again the horror of that moment !
The awful nature of my situation flashed on me like an
electric shock.
After successfully accomplishing the robbery, Bradley
Morgan had uncoupled the last car, the brakeman having
gone into the forward car, as the train did not stop again
for almost an hour. For the same reason the absence
of the last car would not be noticed for some time. And
there I was left powerless in the last car, to be run down
and horribly killed by the night express, which followed
us in forty-five minutes !
At first I was almost stupefied with terror. I felt that
I had but half an hour to live, and at the end of that
time an awful fate awaited me. All my past life, even to
trifling events, seemed to pass before me a thousand
things that I thought I had forgotten came back to me in
that moment with wonderful vividness. I thought of my
father and mother, and the dreadful affliction which was
so soon to come upon them. It seemed as though I
could see the once happy home of my childhood, now
to be darkened with grief. Oh, how fervently I prayed
that I might be saved !
Rousing myself, I strained the cords that held me with
the strength of desperation, but though they cut deep
into my flesh, they did not yield at any point. At last,
THE REAR CAR.
229
after repeated exertions, I succeeded, to my great joy,
in freeing my left hand. The ropes, however, still passed
around my left arm at the elbow, and prevented a free
use of it. I tried at first to loosen or untie the ropes,
but I found that this could not be done. Then I man-
aged with much trouble and some loss of time to get my
jack-knife from my right trouser pocket. With the help
of my teeth I succeeded in opening one of the blades,
and with excited eagerness began to cut the ropes. Un-
fortunate haste ! At the first stroke of the knife it slipped
from my hands, and fell just out of reach on the seat.
A cold sweat burst out all over me, and it seemed to
me as though my last hope were gone. I knew that at
least twenty minutes had already passed, and that I had
but little more than that left. I would have given untold
wealth to have known just how much I had.
The knife had fallen on the seat, to the right of me,
and I could not reach it with my left hand, strain as I
would. For some minutes I wrenched and writhed like
a madman, foaming at the mouth ; and then, exhausted,
I sank back in despair. And there I sat sat and waited
and listened for the coming of the train? Twenty times
I thought I heard it, but still it did not come. At last 1
really heard the rattle of the approaching cars ; very faint
at first but gradually growing louder.
Again I strained every nerve to reach the knife, and
this time the tips of my fingers rested on it. In another
moment I had it firmly in my hand, and was cutting
quickly but carefully the cursed ropes that held me. I.
had loosened almost all, when, raising my eyes again, I
saw the head-light of the engine come tearing along toward
me ! In an instant the last rope was cut, and scarcely
another passed before I was leaping from the car.
230
THE REAR CAR.
Just in time, for a moment afterward the engine of the
night express dashed into the car which I had left, crush-
ing it into a shapeless mass of wood and iron !
The result of the smash-up was the total demolition of
my car, almost entire destruction of the locomotive, and
partial wrecking of most of the cars in the train. No
lives were lost, however, the engineer being the only per-
son seriously injured.
Measures for Morgan's apprehension were taken at
once. He was in custody within a week, most of the
stolen property having been found in his possession. He
was arrested in New York, and while being conveyed by
the same railway to B. he attempted to leap from the
train. Slipping, he fell under the wheels, and was
crushed to death.
XXII
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
The Night Express Snowed in The Conductor's Cool Announce-
ment Making the Best of It Personal Experiences of Travel-
lers Judges, Lawyers, Doctors, and Preachers The Employe's
Apprenticeship The Polite Attentions of Conductors and
Brakemen A Superintendent Exposed The Timid Traveller
The Consumptive Traveller Lunches Hints to Travellers
Reading on the Cars Lateral, Vertical, and Diagonal Motion
The Hog Palace Car Time-table in 1769 No Excuse for
Ladies' Cars Suits for Damages An Item for the Ladies
Trains Behind Time Editorial Passes A Heathen Colony
Custom-house Annoyances All Aboard !
COLD morning in December, the severest of
the year. The night express due in B at
noon was still behind time, and now its passen-
gers looked out through the narrow windows
upon a landscape white with snow. The wind howled
dismally, and the ominous roar could be distinctly heard
above the endless clatter of the wheels beneath our cars.
The snow was still falling, and the gale catching it up in
clouds, dashed it in drifts against the train, enveloping
roof and platform, and measuring its depth upon every
232
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
available surface. Now and then a jerk and a sudden
pull forward would warn us that far to the front the
great engine had encountered some snowy barrier. Yet
through and on moved the long train, in the light of the
early morning, until day gradually stole upon the travel-
lers, now thoroughly awake to a scene, so cold and for-
bidding without as only to give a keener zest to the
cosey comfort within.
The storm seemed to increase in violence as the hours
wore on. Eight o'clock, and the breakfast station still
twenty miles away ! The snow-drifts grew more and
more formidable at our front, and the engine gave signs
of weakening before the increasing strength of the ene-
my. Passengers began to grow uneasy ; looked nervous-
ly at their watches and peered anxiously out of the win-
dows. Consulted their time-tables ; assailed the conductor
whenever he passed with all sorts of irrelevant inquiries,
when suddenly the train slackened its speed, again
moved on, slackened again, and then stopped perfectly
still with a jar and a rebound, which had well-nigh sent
some unwary ones off their feet.
There was an immediate rush for the forward car to
learn the extent of the trouble. One or two imprudent
ones attempted to alight, but on finding themselves
waist-deep, were only too glad to regain the solid footing
of the platform. Meanwhile, the word ran down from
mouth to mouth and from car to car: "Snowed in 1"
The situation was growing worse with every moment,,
and the possibility of extricating the train grew more re-
mote with every keen blast that came to add a few more
inches to the thickening wall around us. The barrier
grew higher every instant, front and rear and on every
side. Spasmodic efforts now forward, now back, prov-
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
233
ed fruitless, and at length the great monster, weary and
exhausted, ceased its fierce breathing, and the train lay
still, half buried in the snow.
The conductor announced that the dining-car had pro-
visions for two days, and that headquarters would soon
discover the trouble and send a " working train to their
assistance. The gentlemen could amuse themselves
around the warm fires in the smoking and express cars,
and the ladies could have sole possession of the sleeping
and dining cars. It was best to prepare for a day and
perhaps a night in the snow." So we went forward
to our seats, exchanged cards and introductions, lit our
cigars, and fell to filling the hours with grunts and com-
plaints, animadversions upon the management of railways,
the alarming increase in the number of accidents, and all
that sort of thing. There were travellers in the party
who had been around the world by steam ; good-natured
passengers, lymphatic travellers, timid travellers, curious
travellers ; doctors, lawyers, and professors.
" Now if we only had a press and type," began the
Professor, "what a jolly newspaper we could make. There
is a newspaper in Scotland which is printed in a car, on
the road from Edinburgh to Glasgow. The press, cases
of type, and compositors are all in the car, and the news
and telegrams received on the road, so that the edition for
the provinces is worked off en route /"
" Attention ! " exclaimed the colonel, rising and mo-
tioning with his cane " Now see how that fellow slams
the door ! I take it that the employe's apprenticeship is
very short. A man is believed to be competent for the
position when he can shut a door in such a manner as to
lead the occupant of the tenth seat back to infer that
it is too late to prepare for eternity."
234
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
" I may say, colonel," said the judge, " that it is hard-
ly reasonable to expect too much in the way of polite at-
tentions from conductors and brakemen on railroad trains,
and no one is disappointed at not receiving them. I do
not think it unreasonable, however, to ask any Company
desiring the patronage of the travelling public, that they
shall employ at least one man to a train who is able and
willing to give a civil answer to a civil question. It might
also be advisable for them to correct certain evils without
waiting for suggestions from the public or the press. For
instance, the custom prevalent among brakemen of
thrusting their heads into the cars and growling out the
name of a station, the last syllables of which are nipped
in the bud by the premature slamming of the door, is
particularly objectionable, and should be corrected. The
only result accomplished by this calling out of the names
of stopping-places, is to set people wondering what the
man said, or tried to say. If this matter is left to the em-
ployes of the road, responsible parties should see that it
is properly attended to. But we see no reason why it
should be left to them at all. An excellent apparatus
for informing travellers of the names of stations is used
on the passenger trains of the Ogdensburg and Lake
Champlain Railroad. It consists of a small wooden box
with a glass-front, surmounted by a bell. When a train
arrives at a station the bell rings and the name of the
next stopping-place on the route appears under the glass
in letters three inches in length. Such an apparatus is a
great addition to the comfort of railway travellers, and
saves much anxiety arising from mistakes and uncertainty.
We do not see why some such arrangement could not be
adopted on all roads. A reliable indicator of this de-
scription would relieve the public from the annoyance of
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
235
questioning reticent conductors and surly brakemen, and
save a great deal of trouble all round."
" I think," said the commercial traveller, " that I will
expose one man who is worthy of notice. I wish to ex-
pose him to the admiration of the public in general, es-
pecially all those who journey by rail, and whose associa-
tions compel them to ride upon it. Mr. George A. Mer-
rill, Superintendent of the Rutland, Burlington, and Ver-
mont Valley Railroad, has issued this notice, and it is
posted in the cars of his road. I carry it with me, and
exhibit it on every road :
" ' NOTICE.
" ' Baggage-men on the trains, freight as well as passenger, are
expected and employed by the Company not only to do their work
well, but pleasantly, and to give every facility to travellers by in-
formation and by ACTS. Any departure from civility of conduct,
and that courtesy due to the patrons of the road, will render them
unfit for its services, and they will be dismissed accordingly.
" ' Travellers may be unreasonable, but that will be considered no
excuse for any employe to be so in return. '
" You see it is printed in large type, so that he who
rides may read. The result is, civility and polite atten-
tion to every want. If you ask a conductor a question,
he does not throw the answer over his shoulder as he
moves on, but replies succinctly and intelligibly. The
brakemen are polite, and I will warrant there are not
many trunks thrown end over end on that road."
" What a charming innovation ? " said the tired travel-
ler. " Perhaps the next train that sweeps from the north
will allow us half an hour for dinner."
" That tempts me to remark, ' said the doctor, " that
many persons find that the lunches they catch at railroad
236
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
stations, or which they carry with them in their bags or
baskets, give them headaches, and serve as very poor sub-
stitutes for warm dinners at home. It is probably because
they are made up so largely of cake or pastry. The food
is too concentrated, has not enough of waste matter and
fluid about it, and so produces constipation, which is a
sure cause of a dull head and general bodily discomfort.
The vegetables and soups we eat with our dinners at home
are valuable for their waste matter as well as for their
nutriment. With our lunches we miss these, but fruit is
still better for those whose stomachs are healthy enough to
eat it uncooked, and fruit we can almost always have with
us. For a substantial lunch to take from home, especially
for one who is taking active exercise, cold chicken is
good, or cold meat cut in slices. These, laid between
buttered slices of bread, make very nice sandwiches.
Thin biscuit is usually more acceptable than bread, and if
cut open, spread with currant jelly, and put together
again, is very nice. The less of cake, and the plainer
that little, the better for the traveller's comfort. Fresh soda
crackers and fresh apples make an excellent light lunch ;
but the fine flour crackers are so concentrated that it is
best for all who can do so to eat the accompanying apples
without peeling them. A simple lunch of this kind, which
you can buy as you hasten through the streets to the depot,
is far better than the little sweet cakes and pastry abomi-
nations sold at stands near the depot. I doubt if women,
who know how such things are made, are often caught buy-
ing them. Figs or raisins go well with crackers or gems ;
but fresh, juicy fruit is preferable when you can get it."
" Here are a few hints to railway travellers," said the
preacher, " that I have written down in my Diary :
" Do not travel at night if you can avoid it.
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
237
" Take your breakfast always before starting on a jour-
ney.
" Keep your ticket under your hat-band, or the inner
lining.
" If an open window proves uncomfortable to another,
you will close it.
" Obtain a seat near the aisle and near the centre of
the car and near the centre of the train.
" Never stand an instant on any car platform.
" Purchase nothing whatever to eat on a rail train, un-
less it is a simple sandwich to be eaten at noon.
" Don't be disturbed if you find the best seats in a rail-
road car taken. As no one knew you were coming, of
course they did not reserve one.
"When a car is crowded, don't fill a seat with your
bundles. True politeness is not amiss, even amidst the
confusion and bustle of a public conveyance.
" Avoid conversation while the cars are in motion, be-
cause the overstrain of the voice to make one heard
above the noise of the wheels has been such that in many
cases there has been such tension of the vocal chords as
to impair the voice for many months.
"All reading in rail-cars while in motion is injurious ;
but the injury will be greatly mitigated by reading only a
quarter of an hour at a time, and for the next five minutes
let the eyes be directed to very distant objects. This al-
ternation from things near to those remote is a very great
relief and rest."
" That reminds me again," followed the doctor.
" Most if not all who read on railroads are sensible of
weight and weariness about the eyes. This sensation is
accounted for on high medical authority by the fact that the
exact distance between the eyes and the paper cannot be
238 THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
maintained. The concussions and oscillations of the train
disturb the powers of vision, and variation, however
slight, is met by an effort at accommodation on the part
of the eyes. The constant exercise of so delicate an or-
gan produces fatigue, and if the practice of railroad read-
ing is persisted in, must result in permanent injury.
Added to this difficulty is bad or shifting light. The safe
and prudent mode is to read little if any. The deliber-
ate finishing of volumes in railway cars is highly detri-
mental.
" Sydney Smith complained that, in travelling from
Exeter to London, in the stage-coach, he was subjected
to no less than fifteen thousand jolts ; and he naively asks
if such jolting could be good for a man's stomach. Fifteen
thousand jolts is a very excellent guess. It is this excessive
jolting which plays the deuce with us ; and whether five
or fifteen thousand jolts are experienced in the course of
a journey, we still suffer. Hundreds who have travelled
long distances, feel it next morning, in the stiffness and
soreness of their muscles, a soreness and stiffness for
which they cannot account. Just consider for a moment
the multiplicity of motions which accompany a railway
carriage, spinning along at, say, forty miles an hour.
There is a lateral motion ; the oscillation of the wheels
from rail to rail ; the vertical motion,, varying according
to the fulness of the car ; then there is a diagonal mo-
tion, which is easily perceived if we watch our fellow-
travellers and the attitude they assume to preserve them-
selves against the impulse, or if we notice the direction
which a loose object on the floor invariably takes. An
eminent chemist declares that he counted ninety thousand
motions in a first-class railway carriage from Manchester
to London ; how many mor there were, he didn't reckon
THE SNOW BLOCKADE. 2 $9
up. Reflect for a moment, my snowed-in friend, on the
infinite concussions the frail body is thus subjected to.
This shaking up of the system is by no means healthy ;
nor does the evil stop here. To balance one's self, to
counteract, of at least to endeavor to counteract, the ef-
fect of the jolting and jerking of the lateral, vertical,
diagonal, and impelling motion, the muscles of the whole
body are strained. If we make an effort to keep our
equilibrium, we are flopped to and fro, backward and
forward, like a doll in a child's arms."
" Ah ! " sighed the " snowed-in friend," " one sighs to
be a pig, when one thinks of the Berg Hog Palace Car.
When the swine wish to slumber, they blow a whistle made
from the tail of a brother who has gone before, the con-
ductors enter and conduct them to a hot Russian bath
in the rear end of the car, after which they are rubbed
down with rough towels, a lunch of old boots and ice
cream furnished. Not a squeal is ever heard on these
cars, nothing but grunts of satisfaction, and a skilled
musician puts in from eighteen to twenty four hours a day,
playing on a cottage organ, and singing such ballads as
the ' Ham Fat Man,' ' The Watch on the Rhine,' ' When
the Pigs Come Home,' etc., etc. In fact, life is one per-
petual holiday on the hog trains until they arrive within
a few miles of Jersey City, when the train is stopped, a
steam fire-engine throws a stream of chloroform into
each car, and the inmates sink into a slumber from which
they do not awaken in this world of trichinae, butcher-
knives, smoked ham, head-cheese, and death."
" How well the time-tables of this year compare with
the following programme of a hundred years ago ! I cut
it out of Stewart's almanac for 1769.
" ' The stage -wagons kept by John Barnhill at the
240
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
Golden-ball perform the journey from Philadelphia to
New York in two days. They set off from Philadelphia
and New York on Mondays and Thursdays punctually at
sunrise, and change their passengers at Prince-Town, and
return to Philadelphia and New York on the following
days, passengers paying ten shillings to Prince-Town and
ten shilling to Powle's Hook, opposite N. York, ferriage
free.' "
"We're making about the same time, now," said the'
consumptive traveller. " Ugh ! how cold it gets ; express-
man, fix up the fire ! "
"There was some excuse for ladies' cars during the
war," said the colonel, " but now there is certainly none,
when all pay the same price for passage. Under the
lock-car rule, all other cars are virtually smoking cars.
There are many gentlemen who travel, to whom tobacco-
smoke is extremely obnoxious, and yet these young men
are held prisoners in these smoking cars. If any car is
to be locked, let it be the smoking car, and put all the
other passengers on their good behavior. If a man will
smoke, let him go into the smoking car. If a man will
chew, squirt his tobacco juice about the car, and soil
ladies' dresses, let him be sent to the smoking car. Be-
cause an inveterate chewer and squirter of tobacco has
his wife with him, it does not follow that he should have
any better right to the ladies' car than a well-bred gen-
tleman who travels singly. Gentlemen, take off your
locks and put your passengers on good behavior."
" That reminds me of a case," said the lawyer, " that
recently came into my hands. A few months ago, a
man recovered heavy damages of a Western railroad
company, in consequence of having been violently
ejected from a ladies' car, so called, in which he had the
audacity to take a seat, though unaccompanied by a lady.
THE SNOW BLOCKADE. 241
The result of this suit probably encouraged Mr. B. H.
Rugg, my client. He had purchased a ticket for the
Cincinnati & Muskingum Railroad, and insisted upon tak-
ing a seat in a first-class car, instead of contenting him-
self with the accommodations afforded by a mean and
dirty one filled with tobacco smoke, into which he was
ordered by those in charge of the train. For his effron-
tery, he was promptly put off the train by the conduc-
tor, and now brings suit against the Company for $5,000
damages. I hope and trust that we shall recover the full
amount claimed. Resistance to, the tyranny of railroad
understrappers is so infrequent, that when displayed, it
merits the warmest encouragement."
" I see that one man's injuries are worth more than
another's," said the judge. " In a recent trial in Massa-
chusetts, for damages to the person in a railway collision,
the jury were instructed to consider, in awarding the
plaintiff damages for permanent injuries : his health for
the period of life thus far spent ; to take him as he had
stood with all his accomplishments, professional, intel-
lectual, and other, and to say what diminution the injury
has produced in them, and to give him compensation
therefor, in dollars and cents. The plaintiff was a Dr.
Breck, of Springfield, a physician in large practice, and
of remarkable powers of endurance. The jury awarded
him $10,000. He claimed $40,000. This is a small
measure of damages for such injuries as would incapaci-
tate a physician from doing more than a fraction of his
former work, but the point was clearly settled that one
man's injuries are worth more than another's."
At this juncture, the conductor brought a message from
the ladies, asking the judge and our lawyer to step into
the dining car and settle a dispute. The gallant gentle-
11
242 THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
men went at once, for both had wives among the merry
party. It transpired that the ladies had been discussing
the subject of railway accidents, and the possibility of
making a railway company pay for the loss of a lady's
wardrobe, lost or ruined in a railway collision.
The legal gentlemen decided that the case was quite
clear, the lawyer citing a suit in point :
"Mrs. Dorothy Rawson sued the Pennsylvania Rail-
road, and recovered $4,000, for her baggage, personal
ornaments, wearing apparel, etc., a large part of which
were gifts from her husband. The railway company
made a defence on two points :
" That her husband and not she was the proper per-
son to sue.
" ' 2. That the company had made a condition in the
ticket that they would not be liable for more than Si 00.'
"The Court overruled both points, and decided in
favor of Mrs. Rawson. No two principles of law are
more clear than those upon which this decision was
based. I give them for the benefit of those people who
are not lawyers, but who are much imposed upon in this
direction :
" ' 1. The jewels, ornaments, and wearing apparel of a
woman are what the common law calls her parapher-
nalia, and are held to be her own against all the world.
It would be hard if a married woman could not own some
personal property of her own, even against her husband.
So the common law holds that the dress and ornaments
of a woman, however valuable they be, though one
should be the Koh-i-noor diamond, are sacred to herself.
The attorneys for Mrs. Rawson, therefore, judged rightly
when they brought the suit in her name. It was herself
and nobody else who was injured. Now to understand a
little more of this : the reader who is not a lawyer should
know that by the common law the personal property of
THE SNOW BLOCKADE. 243
the wife becomes the husband's. It was on this ground
that the attorney for the defendant (the Pennsylvania
Railroad Company) resisted the right of Mrs. Rawson to
sue. But they were mistaken in this. The parapher-
nalia of a wife (her dress and ornaments) belong to herself
alone.
" ' 2. The Pennsylvania Railroad Company undertook
to limit their responsibility as common carriers, by
stating that they had given notice that they would not be
responsible for more than $100. What did that notice
amount to? Nothing. And why? Because the Penn-
sylvania Railroad Company are common carriers, and
they cannot avoid their obligations by any act of their
own. This is something all travellers ought to know, for
railroads, steamboats, stages, all common carriers, are try-
ing to avoid their responsibility by notices of this sort.
It cannot be done ; for as they undertake to carry persons
and freights for hire, the law makes them responsible for
damages, and they cannot avoid it.' "
" How impatiently we take all railroad delays," re-
marked the preacher to the timid traveller. " No matter
what may be the cause, no difference how well conducted
the road, we fret and work ourselves into a fever of ridi-
cule, coarse jests, and untimely remarks of all kinds, for
the gratification of ourselves and other belated travellers.
Or, if given to the poetical, we pencil our vitupera-
tions upon the walls of depots, and immortalize our sar-
casm. The Bungtown Railway Company may run
twenty daily trains over a single track of two hundred
and fifty miles in length ; they may have to wait at some
meeting point for delayed passenger trains, detained on
any part of the route from New York City, a trip of
twelve hundred miles, and by any of the mishaps that
may arise in any business. It may be that some parts of
the track have become suddenly unsafe for the usual rate
of speed, or the thermometer sinks to 15 degrees below
244
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
zero, during a night trip ; or some part of the machinery
gets out of order, as even stationary machinery will do ;
or perhaps some accident, more or less serious, has oc-
curred, through the universal anxiety among people and
railroad companies to brook no delays or tardiness. All
this makes but little difference to our fretful, selfish
selves, if we have made up our minds to go somewhere
1 on time.' We curse the road and the officers, the en-
gine and route.
" A few years ago, we could ride seven hours over the
worst of roads in a cold, wintry day, with cold feet,
bumped about in an old lumber wagon or a stage-hack,
glad to reach the railroad, and were comparatively satis-
fied with such locomotion. Now we can't wait the fourth
part of that time in a comfortable depot-house, without
showing our pertness or irascibility."
"Yes!" responded the timid traveller; "but if that
old stage-hack had stalled for a day in the snow, within
twenty miles of that railroad and comfort, what then ? "
" When I took up this line of march," said the colonel,
" the newspaper batteries all along the line of the Ohio
and Mississippi Railway, from St. Louis to Cincinnati,
were belching forth their editorial fire, composed of
squibs and diminutive thunder, at that corporation, for
not renewing the passes of editors. Every paper we
bought of the train-boys had its load. But strange to
say the trains went on as usual, apparently unawed by
the terrific cannonade of harmless shot and shell. I went
over the same road the year before, and found that the
line, with all its officers and men, were perfection with
this very class of editors. The papers we bought on the
road then slopped over with puffing and praise. But
since the first of a certain January, these gentlemen lack
THE SNO W BLO CKADE. 245
all the essentials of conducting a popular railway. The
Ohio and Mississippi Road has never been a paying con-
cern, and if the management, for the sake of economy,
saw fit to change their regulations, they had a right to do
so. As far as I was able to judge, most of the officers
and conductors of that year have been retained, and they
manifest a most courteous and obliging spirit. In fact,
Miles, Fields, Wise, and all their colleagues, are models
of what a conductor should be, and I doubt if their su-
periors can be found. I mention it because it is the first
instance that has come under my notice, of a railway
corporation aiming a blow at the dead-head system, which,
born of courtesy, has developed into a disgraceful abuse."
" There is a prospect now of being rid of another nui-
sance," rejoined the judge. " By an act of Congress
passed at the last session, 'train-boys' on railway cars
are not permitted to continue the avocation of vending
cigars to passengers, unless they take out a pedler's li-
cense, and give bonds in $200,000 to the Government.
The authorities have already proceeded to take cogni-
zance of any cases that may come to their notice."
" I wish they could be abolished altogether," said the
timid traveller " I mean the rascally train-boys."
" The stuff they sell is rank poison," added the con-
sumptive.
"There is a new swindle out," said the doctor, "and
as we have a reporter on board, perhaps he will give it
as a warning to the travelling public. This swindle takes
the form of a lady, tall, interesting, refined in manners,
and not younger than thirty. She dresses in the deepest
mourning, and passes as a widow of a clergyman."
" Lord forgive her," interrupted the preacher.
" She frequents cars, hotels, and depots, and her game
246 THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
consists in feigning great distress, and the loss of pocket-
book or railway ticket, and solicits aid from travellers to
defray her expenses to her destination. She obtains many
loans, some gifts, and the proceeds of her eloquent ap-
peals doubtless amount to a generous sum each day."
"Well," said the lawyer, "this is an age of progres-
sion, and woman must needs show her equality with man,
no less in rascality than in honor and uprightness."
" There is a station on the Erie Road, in New Jersey,"
said the merchant, "called Sufferns. It is a suburban
station, the home of many a city merchant. A reasona-
ble walk from the villages of the valley, you will find an
American community, with nearly the least possible that
is human, save the form ; without civilization or organi-
zation of the lowest order, even as much as gypsies ;
without art above the art of savages hunting, charcoal-
burning, and making baskets, wooden brooms, and the
like. They are without hope, or enterprise, or industry
for anything better or beyond the instant demands of the
animal nature. Without a line of the simplest literature,
or the least idea of written language or numerals ; with-
out a trace of the Bible, of Christianity, or of any sort
of religion or deity ; nay, almost without language, their
patois being so scanty as well as disorganized, that only
the commonest of facts are communicated by it, and those
with difficulty. There is, of course, nothing worthy the
name of marriage or family among them. Three sur-
names, it is said, suffice for three-quarters of the race.
Their bearing is abject and spiritless, their faces stolid,
their glances furtive, and their conduct timorous. No-
body knows or cares how they live, how they are born, or
by what means they die, or how they are buried, in their
savage isolation."
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
247
" Do not our missionaries go among them ? " asked
the preacher.
"No," the merchant replied, " they are too near home,
too near civilization, and besides, they make their own
flannel underwear, and have no use for bandanna hand-
kerchiefs. Distance, you know, lends enchantment to
the missionary's views."
"Too true ; we have neglected heathen all about us."
" If your friend is travelling abroad," began the judge,
"send him a copy of Mr. McElrath's letter. Mr. McEl-
rath is the appraiser, you know, or was, and his letter is
a manifesto to ten thousand Americans. He tells the
travelling and travelled American that he knows what the
law is, and that it shall be enforced. Mr. McElrath is
quite clear upon that point indeed.
" No traveller in Europe will deny, that the inspection
of his personal luggage by the custom-house officers at
every frontier, was one of the chief annoyances of his
journey. It has been some little time since I made the
grand tour, but I remember this very well. Upon reach-
ing the Austrian line, as I approached Salzburg, I had a
slight difference of opinion with the royal imperial inspec-
tor, whom I conceived to be a royal imperial ass ! He
fumbled long and earnestly and vexatiously, in a very
small travelling-bag, to find contraband articles. During
this official search, he ingeniously contrived to disturb the
cork of a modest bottle of ink, which consequently be-
dewed all the contents of the bag. The veterans of
travel at that day, admonished by much sad experience,
always declared that their shaving-soap and slippers con-
tained nothing contraband, and displayed a five-franc
piece as conclusive evidence, which was alwavs accepted
as proof. It is a misfortune, certainly, that this relic of
248 THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
barbarism continued so long as a part of our own practice,
and that the American who used to swear at this vexation
all through Europe, returns to encounter it in its worst
form at his own door.
" Still Mr. McElrath, the appraiser, is perfectly right.
It is a law of the land, and he properly insists upon exe-
cuting it. He probably knows as well as anybody that
the surest way of getting a bad law changed is to insist
upon executing it to the rigorous letter. He very justly
will not wink at its evasion ; and as the travelling mem-
bers of the human family seem to suppose that there is
no harm in smuggling, and that the detective officer of
the customs cannot be really in earnest, the appraiser is-
sued a letter in which he defines the requirements of the
law in the matter of personal luggage, and informs whom-
soever it may concern that if they wish to avoid deten-
tion and trouble, they will not try to smuggle silks and
woollens partially shaped into clothes under the name of
wearing apparel. This is horribly vexatious, but if the
free and enlightened American does not like it he must
change the law. He cannot fairly complain of his own
action. The appraiser is his officer executing his will.
The account of dissatisfaction is to be settled with him-
self, not with the appraiser.
" The appraiser expected that ten thousand persons
would return to the United States that year, bringing
with them various articles, such as new clothes and fancy
goods, worth two millions of dollars, the regular duties
upon which would amount to about one million. To the
ten thousand Americans about to retreat, he desired to
say ' beforehand, that every dollar of these duties will be
exacted, and must be paid before their trunks and pack-
ages can get through the hands of the customs officers.'
THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
249
"The ten thousand might bring their combs and
brushes if in actual use : their fine-cut tobacco, if it had
been once chewed ; their coats and trousers partially
worn ; their professional books and tools of trade, not
machinery ; also pictures and statues by American ar-
tists abroad ; also jewelry when worn, and evidently in-
tended to be worn by the bearers ; also one pair of slip-
pers if well down at the heel ; also household plate and
effects if they have been in use one year abroad. Every-
thing else was to be carefully stated in writing by the ten
thousand, and upon their arrival the duties, amounting
to about fifty per cent., would be levied. The duties
must then and there be paid, and every one of the noble
army could step proudly ashore upon the land of the free
and the home of the brave.
" I give this to the reporter, because I see by the pa-
pers that we are on the eve of an important Presidential
campaign. Mr. McElrath's letter is one of the most
powerful free-trade documents that I have seen.
" One of the principal hotel nuisances in America and
elsewhere, is, that no one on entering an establishment
knows what will be the amount of his bill, until he leaves
it, or what are his privileges while there. It is rarely
found that the bill tallies with the notices tacked up so
modestly behind doors ; and it is to be regretted that hotel
proprietors do not expose a more satisfactory prospec-
tus in some conspicuous place. I have a sample here,
which I found in the entrance-way of a hotel at Lahore,
East India :
" ' Gentlemen who come in hotel not say anything
about their meals they will be charged for and if they
should say beforehand that they are going out to break-
fast or dinner, etc., are if they say that they have not
11*
250 THE SNOW BLOCKADE.
anything to eat they will not be charged, and if not so,
they will be charged, or unless they bring it to the notice
of the manager of the place, and should they want to say
anything, they must order the manager for and not any
one else, and unless they bring it to the notice of the
manager, they will be charge for the least things accord-
ing to hotel rate, and no fuss will be allowed afterward
about it. Should any gentleman take wall lamp or can-
dle light from the public rooms they must pay for it with-
out any dispute its charges. Monthly gentlemens will
have to pay my fixed rate made with them at the time,
and should they absent day in the month they will not be
allowed to deduct anything out of it, because I take from
them less rate than my usual rate of monthly charges.' "
The conductor, who had reported progress from time
to time, now entered with the welcome intelligence that
in an hour the track would be clear.
S^^BSsbs 5BSS 5
XXIII.
THE COLOSSUS OF ROADS.
UCK NORTON was a cripple,
Of two off toes bereft,
A twelve-foot leap had fix'd him,
With just his right foot left.
That is, his south foot yielded
To a bender up above,
All through a bigger bender,
That time at " Mickey's Cove."
You're mightly right in that, sir,
Was never known to flinch ;
Lost half a foot at Mickey's,
But never gave an inch.
He spread some when he hobbled,
Was loose, when he got tight,
But once upon the foot-board,
That left foot came out right.
He likes to tell the story,
For he's heavy on the stump ;
And jokes about mementos
Of that rather famous jump.
252
THE COLOSSUS OF ROADS.
How he engineer'd it thro', sir,
And liked to kick the pail ;
When his right foot got in limbo,
And his left foot gave leg bail.
No flag was swung at Mickey's^
And the freight was coming blind ;
He put his best foot for'ard,
And came out a foot behind.
When the toes began to heel, sir,
He put that best foot down,
And swore they'd keep on workin',
Wherever they were thrown.
For no lazy bones were ever
Known to hang about his train ;
And dead broke as now they were, sir,
They would live somehow again.
His left knee somehow weakened
When he tried to say his prayers ;
And the other out of practice,
So he stopped them for repairs.
Since they fell out there at Mickey's,
They don't fall in quite so strong ;
The left seems short of feeling,
And the right feels much too long.
Not on his last legs yet, sir,
Though his rivals tried a ruse ;
Gave out that he was dying,
Just to fill Buck Norton's shoes.
They put their own foot in it,
For Hammond said to Moore :
" There's more behind his nozzle,
Than there ever was before."
With one foot on his engine,
And the other on the land,
We'll call him our Colossus
Of Roads you understand ?
THE COLOSSUS OF ROADS.
253
To foot it up, our cripple
Stands high, as well he may :
His engine draws like " 60,"
And Norton draws big pay.
XXIV.
FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
A switchman's story.
ROUGH cabin of logs in the midst of dense
woods, and shut in by the precipitous crests of
rocky hills. No neighbors, save at the red farm-
house some few miles in the valley below. It
was only on the clearest days that I could see the dim
wreath of smoke curling up from the Wycliffe chimneys.
I had been struggling to ward off the iron grasp of
poverty, and here was employment ready to my hand.
Why should I mind the solitude ?
John Walker had also applied for the situation of
switchman at Branhill Station. Rumor had it, that pretty
Barbara Wycliffe had herself gone in to headquarters,
and used her influence in Walker's behalf. I had been
taken with the girl myself. There was something in the
tropic glow of her dark Spanish beauty, and the sparkle
of her brown eyes, that was strangely attractive to me.
Walker was a sullen, reticent fellow, with a bad look out
of his eye, and somehow I didn't like the idea of her be-
coming his wife. True, they said she had but who
cares what they said ?
FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
255
The sun was creeping slowly up the leafless woods and
sombre stretches of black-green pines that covered the
eastern hill one sparkling March afternoon, as I came
leisurely in after half an hour's brisk work at wood-cut-
ting down in the hollow. The instant I entered I be-
came conscious, by that peculiar magnetic influence
which all have experienced, of the presence of some one
else in the little apartment. Nor was I mistaken. John
Walker was lounging in the rocking-chair by the one win-
dow, reading a week-old newspaper.
" Halloo, Walker ! how came you here ? "
" Through the back-door. I've just strolled up from
Wycliffe's. And how are you getting along, old fellow ? "
" Oh, first-rate. What are you doing ? "
" Nothing just at present. I am looking for a place
on the E Road as brakeman until something bet-
ter turns up. Upon my word you've got things pretty
snug here, Reuben. Does the Company give you the
place ? "
"Yes."
" Comfortable, though not gorgeous," he said, looking
carelessly around. "Nice warm walls, chimney, big
enough to roast an ox two, if you want 'em furniture
neat clock on the shelf what's that for, eh ? "
I smiled as I confessed the clock's utility.
" Not having yet attained the dignity of a watch, I de-
pend on a clock to inform me of the time."
" Ah, that's it ! Switches changed often ? "
" Twice a day, when the down Lightning meets the up
Accommodation, on the Branch, and the Way Mail on
the Branch leaves the main track."
"Late?"
What a lounging, indolent sort of way he had, as he put
256 FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
the questions indifferently to me ! I looked rather sul-
lenly at him, but he was not at all disturbed by my gaze.
" Well, yes, late and early. Nine in the morning for
the Branch, seven in the evening for the Lightning."
" Pretty easy life of it, Eyre ? "
" Not hard, only one has to be prompt."
" Yes yes, to be sure. Seen much of old Wycliffe's
folks here, eh ? "
" Occasionally."
" Well, I'm off; if I go on the E Road, don't make
love to Barbara ! "
During all this, his cold gray eyes wandered uneasily
about the apartment, and he never once looked at me
with the frank, fearless gaze that is most appropriate be-
tween man and man. It was a forced smile that met his
last remark, and I could have knocked the coarse jester
down.
The next day was one of those brilliant bits of sunshine
and brightness, that occasionally diversify the early weeks
of our Northern spring. I had been down in the woods
piling up the logs I had cut the day before, and on re-
turning up the narrow path, I saw the light flutter of a
scarlet shawl cross the window of my little dwelling from
the inside.
"More company," I thought, with a quick, electric
bound at my heart ; for I knew there was but one wo-
man for miles around who would be likely to visit me,
and then, besides, Barbara Wycliffe's sweet eyes were
like lodestars to me, and I felt it must be her. I sprang
up the slope with a movement as light as my heart, and
entered at the wide-open door.
"Barbara," said I, holding out both my hands, "this
is an unexpected pleasure."
FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
2S7
She had been crimson when my footstep first sounded
on the threshold; now she turned deadly pale, with a
whiteness that startled me.
" Oh, is it you, Reuben Mr. Eyre ? I'm so glad you
have come. I I " She stammered and stuttered pain-
fully, and was much confused. "I I was looking for
our stray guinea-fowls in the woods above, and I went
farther than I had any idea of. I was very tired, and I
thought I would stop in a minute and rest."
"Arid you are as welcome as flowers in May, Barbara;
but you know you are."
For she had smiled up in my face with an arch, half-
doubtful look. There was no question of absent color
now ; her cheeks glowed like like like the velvet
petals of a " Giant of Battles " rose, I suppose the poets
would say ; but I thought of the red glare of the locomo-
tive's head-light, which was always beautiful to me.
"And did you find the runaways ? "
"No. I think they must be down in the maple
swamp. I shall look for them there to-morrow. But,
Mr. Eyre, I wanted to say, besides " She hesitated
and hung down her head.
" Well, Barbara, what ? " I asked.
" I don't know," she said, convulsively. " I don't know
what. But I came to to warn you "
Again the deathly pallor came over her face. There
was a strange, startled look in her brown eyes.
" Warn me, Barbara ! Of what ? "
" Of him of that man John Walker."
I had felt, when she said she came to warn me, that it
was of that man. She was surprised that I was not
startled, and asked me, hurriedly :
" What was he doing here, to-day, Reuben ? "
258 FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
I did look at her in astonishment this time.
" Has he been here to-day, Barbara? You are think-
ing of yesterday evening ? " I suggested.
" No, I am not," she answered, impetuously. " I am
not thinking of yesterday evening. I mean to-day ; not
an hour ago."
"What makes you think he was here, Barbara?"
" Because I saw him ; because I I followed him. I
know he was bent on mischief, and mischief against
you."
I shook my head doubtfully.
"Are you quite sure you are not mistaken ? For if he
had been here, would he not have stayed to see me?
When did you see him here, and where ? "
" I tell you it was but a little while ago. He means
you mischief, Reuben ; be sure of that. I saw him put a
large knife in his breast, as he left the house, and I fol-
lowed him followed him until I saw him reach the door.
He stopped by the door, and stood still a minute or two,
as if he were listening."
"Perhaps he was listening to hear if I were at home."
" I was sure of it, and started on a run to the house to
warn you ; but I was so agitated I could not move fast.
I saw him enter, and I tried to scream, but could not. I
felt he would do you an injury with that knife."
"Well?"
" Well, he went in and closed the door behind him ;
but he did not remain there more than two minutes ; for
as I ran I saw him come out again, and strike right into
the woods to the left."
" That is the short cut to the railroad switch. Perhaps
he expected to find me there."
" Perhaps he did," said Barbara.
FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
259
"Or possibly" the "green-eyed monster" was reas-
serting its presence once more, and trying to smile, I
said "possibly he knew you were out, and hoped to
meet you somewhere in the vicinity."
Barbara's long lashes drooped for a moment ; then
there was a flash in her eyes ; and then she answered,
carelessly, with just a perceptible sneer :
"It is just possible that he did, though why he should
arm himself to meet me, is beyond my comprehension.
At all events, he went the wrong way. Good-evening."
" Surely you are not going yet ? "
" I must, thank you. Father will certainly think I am
lost if I don't hurry home."
I saw by the clock that it was only half-past five.
"You will let me walk with you as far as the bridge,
Barbara ? "
She would have hesitated awhile on any occasion, and
have refused my escort. This little rustic maiden of the
wilderness possessed all the impulses and wiles of a
drawing-room coquette, and seldom missed an opportu-
nity of tormenting me. My allusion to Walker had of-
fended her, and she grew serious. Had I deemed it pos-
sible that she could experience personal fear, I should
have fancied that she was afraid of something or some-
body, for her hand trembled, as she laid it on my arm.
Then I thought something in the melting darkness of her
eye appealed to me with a voiceless cry for help !
"What is it, Barbara?" I questioned, instinctively.
She looked wonderingly at me the look had all gone
out of her eyes now.
" Nothing. I did not speak."
"But what ails you? Why are you so depressed in
spirits?"
260 FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
" I feel there is something wrong that man you
have escaped him this time, but I want you to be wary
of him."
"For your sake?" I ventured, stutteringly and hesi-
tatingly.
" For your own sake," she answered ; and then both
of us were silent for some time.
What a delightful, dreamy walk that was, down to the
bridge, whose rude planks spanned the shallow, brawling
stream, with the low sun hanging like a ball of gold above
the purpled woods, and the air full of fragrant breathings
of the spring-tide, whose coming footsteps were already
sweet upon the hills ! Pleasant in spite of warning and
Walker. Barbara's softly-spoken "Good-by!" sounded
like saddest music as I turned away from the bridge,
regretting that I could not prolong the rambling tete-&-
tete to an indefinite length.
A few paces higher up I turned once more to watch
the scarlet gleam of Barbara's wrappings through the
column-like trunks of the leafless trees ; and as my eye
rested on this one bright glimpse of color, a tall figure
emerged with a stealthy air from the thickets beyond,
and joined her.
It was Walker! How the sharp pang of jealousy shot
through my heart as I saw him bend over her little hand,
and still hold it in his own, as he walked by her side.
Was it a preconcerted interview ? Had she told him to
meet her, as soon as I, the deluded dupe, was well out
of the way ? Did they make my home a rendezvous to
escape the eyes of her father ? Did they
Hark ! Surely that was a cry, wild and startling
a cry from Barbara Wycliffe's lips ! From my post on the
higher ground, I could see that she had started back
FIVE MINUTES BEHIND. 2 6l
from him, and drawn her hand away. My first thought
was to spring down into the ravine, but desisted when I
saw him take the hand once again. I could see tnat he
was speaking in an eager manner, pointing in my direc-
tion, with frequent and impulsive gestures, and then I
saw him grasp her hand again. I saw his arm around
her waist her head upon his shoulder, and worst of all
she did not repulse him !
" Glad I did not make a fool of myself," I muttered
bitterly, turning away with long irregular strides up the
hill. " Let them go on their way. It is the last time I
shall be duped by the bright eyes of a heartless coquette.
I am glad I have discovered her in her true light at last."
But I was not glad. There was a pang gnawing at
my heart as I slowly returned to the cabin ; and as I en-
tered the room, I looked up involuntarily, with the in-
stinct that grows from constant habit, at the clock. The
hands indicated the hour of six. Somehow I fancied it
was later than that. The sun had dipped down behind
the purple line of woods ; the long shadows of the tree-
trunks stretching out across the brown turf in front of my
door-step had vanished, and just in the warm orange
glow of the west a great golden star flamed and quivered
like a solitary eye of fire.
" It can't be that the sun sets earlier than usual," I
said to myself, half doubtfully, and yet
Standing there hesitating I knew not why I heard
the bell of St. Mark's at Branhill the church-bell of the
far-off village. It could be heard only on the stillest
days, when the wind set in a peculiar direction ; but now
the strokes rang out with marvellous distinctness :
One two three four five six seven !
Like invisible writing suddenly flashing into view at the
262 JWB MINUTES BEHIND.
magic action of fire, the whole chain of circumstances be-
came frightfully, diabolically clear. John Walker's mys-
terious presence in my cabin but two hours since was
sufficiently explained now. He had writhed in, deadly
and noiseless, like a serpent, to work my ruin, and ele-
vate himself upon the wreck of my good name and trust.
His hand had moved backward the indices of my time-
piece upon the dial with a motive too horrible for me to
contemplate without a shudder. He knew (for had I not
myself told him?) that the Lightning Express, going
North, met the Branch-road train at seven o'clock, and
that it rushed wildly forward without stopping, with only
a whistle of warning. The switch was set to the Branch
road ; it must be changed at a quarter to seven, or the Light-
ning Express would leave the track and collide with the
" Accommodation," calmly waiting it in fancied security.
Yes ; John Walker had deliberately laid his plans to ruin
me ; and Barbara could it be possible that Barbara's
sweet frankness, her unwonted presence, her warning,
were part of his fiendish conspiracy to divert my attention,
and wile me away from the post of duty ? Was Barbara
in his interest ? and had I been doubly deceived ? As I
stood there perfectly motionless, with cold drops oozing
out upon my brow, and a frozen sort of rigidity at my
heart, I could almost see the shattered cars, the shapeless,
splintered ruin, the crushed machinery, the ghastly faces
upturned to the glowing purple of the fair twilight sky ; I
could hear the shrieks and groans and dying gasps through
the dull, continuous roar that seemed to surge across my
brain ! And I- / should have been the unconscious
murderer, the guiltless criminal ! O God of all mercies !
Was there no way of averting the impending shadow of
this awful catastrophe ?
FIVE MINUTES BEHIND. 2 6$
All this was thought in a second ; and before the chimes
had ceased ringing the final stroke of seven, I bounded
from the room. My usual route down to the switch was
a foot-path, steep and narrow, that skirted the edges of
the precipitous hills ; but there was a nearer and much
more direct way, through dense undergrowth and matted
briars and bushes, through which I plunged, heedless of
tearing thorns and tangled branches, which seemed to
impede my progress with almost human malice. As I
ran my speed was accelerated by the shrill whistle of the
approaching Accommodation train. I did not mind that
the Accommodation would stop on its track and wait
for the Lightning Express to pass ; but I had not a second
to spare, for usually the whistle of the Lightning was
heard as if it were the echo of the other, so nearly simul-
taneously were they due at Branhill Junction. As I
neared the track with breath that came in short, panting
sobs and laboring pulses, I saw, as it were, through a
scarlet mist of blood, the white, starry gleam of the sig-
nal lamp in its accustomed place the " all right " token
to the engineer of the Lightning train !
Whose hand had so foully lighted that treacherous star
of doom ?
As I ran I had searched for the key of the switch-lock.
It was safe. I sprang to the track, hurling down the sig-
nal with a vehemence that shivered the strong glass to a
thousand atoms. I thrust the key into the lock and un-
locked the switch. Great Heavens ! the lever was im-
movable ! The villain had done his work completely,
and with a small wooden wedge driven firmly between
the lever and the iron framework of the switch, had made
the movement of the former impossible. The loud shriek
of the now approaching train gave me additional strength
264 FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
in vain, for I could not move the rails. Walker and Bar-
bara Wycliffe had neglected no one link in the chain of
their detestable plot. One instant I stood, in the utter
abandonment of despair. In the same terrible instant
the glare of the thundering train flashed on the track and
lighted it up with painful brilliancy, and I saw, as I knew,
that the rails were wrong. While my mind seemed to
give way before the terrible doom which I had no power
to avert, a breathless, gasping voice sounded close in my
ear, and a heavy iron implement was thrust into my
hands. I did not see her, but I knew who it was. I did
not see the implement which I grasped, but I knew there
was strength in it.
" Reuben ! Reuben ! Quick ! it is the crowbar ! "
Before the words were finished I had formed my plan
of action. With a powerful blow I struck the iron rod
of the switch the stem which connected the lever and
the rails, but which now prevented them from moving.
A single blow was enough. I heard the sharp twang of
the iron rod as it snapped. I leaped to the side of the
track. I placed the crow-bar as a lever under the rail,
and was about to move the switch with a laugh of relief,
when I felt both my arms grappled from behind, with a
hold as firm as steel, and I was thrown violently back,
dropping the crow-bar as I fell.
"Not so fast, Reuben Eyre," hissed the hated voice of
John Walker close to my ear. " I will be revenged yet,
though pretty Barbara has played me false."
I struggled to free myself from his clinging grasp, with
a strength that afterward seemed supernatural, but in vain.
He had drawn me, I suppose, unconsciously on to the
track, and I could already feel the thrill and tremble of
the earth beneath my feet a sure sign that the approach-
FIVE MINUTES BEHIND. 26 $
ing train was nearing us. I thought of the unsuspecting
passengers whose fate hung in the balance. Were they
to perish when help and rescue lay almost within a
hand's-breadth of me ? They talk of the bitterness of
death this was the bitterness of life ; and in that moment
of horrible suspense I drank the loathed cup to the very
dregs.
But, thanks to God's providence, help was nearer at
hand than I had dared to hope. With surprising courage
and presence of mind, Barbara Wycliffe had seized the
crow-bar, and forced the rails into position. Brave girl !
It did not require more than a woman's strength, but at
that moment she needed more than a man's courage. It
wasn't nerve and sinew she needed, but the heart to do
it. The train did not slacken its speed. The engineer
had failed to notice the absence of the signal, and dashed
wildly on ! It did not matter now ; the switch was all
right and the danger past.
No, not past ! You forget that while I saw all this ;
saw Barbara's act ; saw the rails move ; saw them rightly
adjusted; saw the engineer's mistake actually reflected
that it was the result of his farm confidence in me I had
never failed him before can you believe that all this time
this crowded instant I was engaged in a struggle for
life with John Walker ? Mind and matter were totally
distinct. Mentally I was absorbed in Barbara's work ;
physically, I grappled with John Walker ! The train and
its precious freight safe, mind returned to matter, and
Walker soon found I was more than a match for him.
My first reflection was to drag him and myself from the
track, across which we were struggling. It was the work
of an instant. Then with a superhuman effort I endeav-
ored to free myself from his grasp, and I threw him vio-
12
2 66 FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
lently from me. He staggered back a pace or two, vainly
endeavoring to recover his equilibrium, and then fell.
Fell, great Heaven ! directly across the iron track !
I made an instinctive step forward to save him, but
Barbara Wy cliff e's arms were clasped tightly around me,
Barbara's voice was crying out wildly,
" Reuben ! Reuben ! for my sake ! "
And in the same breath the Lightning Express rushed
over the track like a fiery serpent, and I knew that John
Walker's accounts with Time were closed forever.
The engineer and fireman of the Accommodation
train, which was standing on the Branch road, had, in the
glare of the locomotive, witnessed the struggle, and heard
Barbara's screams, and now came rushing forward. In
awed silence they removed the body from the track where
it lay, fearfully crushed and mangled, with glazed eyes
upturned, and brow still contracted with the scowl of
mortal rage.
So the man died, and there was no living soul to mourn
his death.
As the engineer of the Accommodation comprehended
the situation, and explained it to the wondering passen-
gers, he turned to me as I mechanically readjusted the
switch to allow the Accommodation to pass, and said :
" Lucky for you, old fellow, that the Lightning was
five minutes behind time."
Five minutes behind time and those five minutes had
held the destiny of life and death within their pulsing
seconds !
As the last crash and rattle of the vanishing train, which
now sped on its way, smote upon my ear, my duty for the
night wholly done, all the fictitious strength that had lent
vigor to my arm, and nerve to my limbs, seemed taken
FIVE MINUTES BEHIND. 267
from me. My friendly crow-bar dropped with a dull
sound from my hands, the far-off crests of the purple hills
seemed to reel and tremble, and I fell like a log to the
ground, weak and fainting, with Barbara Wycliffe's sweet
face bending over me, like the face of an angel.
When thought and sense returned to me once more,
days after, I was in my little cabin, and the Wycliffes,
father and daughter, were ministering to me. And the
farmer told me how the people from all about the coun-
try had come to look at the dead man, and hear the ver-
dict of the coroner's jury, and to see how narrowly the
passengers of the two trains had escaped the doom that
had come down upon him like an avenging spirit.
" And I tell ye, it made their blood run cold," said the
farmer. " They called my little girl a heroine, and I
ain't sure but that they're right ! "
" Barbara," said I, when the old man had gone to the
spring for water, and we were left alone together, " how
did it happen ? How did you know that he "
" He told me himself," said Barbara, in a low, troubled
voice.
"When?"
" That evening, after I had left you at the bridge."
"And you, Barbara, what did you say?"
"At first I screamed with terror. Then he told me
he had done it for love of me ; that when he got your
place he would marry me. What could I do ? I dared
not turn back to you, for there was murder in his eyes,
and he would have stabbed you perhaps me, too, long
before I could have reached you ; so I let him fancy
God forgive me that I would be his accomplice in his
wicked schemes and his wife afterward. He told me all
he had done. So when he left me I went straight to
2 68 FIVE MINUTES BEHIND.
where I had seen my father's crow-bar lying by the track ;
and oh, Reuben ! it seemed as if I never should be able
to drag its weary weight through the woods to your post.
Every rush of the wind in the tree-tops seemed like the
train coming, and every rustling leaf was John Walker's
step ! "
She bowed her head in her hands with a shudder.
But Farmer Wycliffe's footfall was on the frozen earth
outside, and I had not yet learned quite all I wanted to
know.
" Then, Barbara, I was wrong when I thought you
loved John Walker."
" Wrong altogether wrong !"
" And it was not he but but me you loved all the
time ? "
The roses came to her cheek, and the small head was
royally poised.
"Because, darling I have loved you these many
months. Tell me my fate quickly your father is close
at hand; Is it yes or no ? "
And Barbara whispered "Yes."
XXV.
UP AND DOWN THE RAIL.
BY AN OFFICE-MAN.
ji|Sjg|[ AM in the employ of the what-d'ye-call-'em
Central Railway ; but it does not concern you
whether I am a director, superintendent, con-
ductor, or brakeman. My purpose is simply to
put down a few remarks concerning the machinery by
which this great line is worked, and thereby ease my
mind of a nightmare which has weighed upon it for some
time.
The august and all-powerful body of directors, as a
matter of course, come first ; but of them we can say lit-
tle. They are of the gods, and sit above the thunder,
and it is with mortals that we have now to deal. To the
vast body of officials and employes on this our railway,
the board of directors is a sort of mythical assembly,
which they hear frequently mentioned, but which they
seldom or never see. They hear of them in the reports
those puzzling compilations of facts and figures which
not one person in a thousand can make head or tail of,
270
UP AND DOWN THE RAIL.
or they see " By order of the Board of Directors," printed
at the foot of something or other ; but further than this,
the acquaintance does not extend. Sometimes, indeed,
as Mr. Brown happens to be traversing the platform, a
friend will take him by the button for a moment, and
with a mysterious nod will whisper, " Do you see that
stout gentleman with the thick walking-stick? Well,
that is Mr. Pompous, our chairman." Or, " Do you see
that thin person walking with his hands behind him ?
That is Mr. Croesus. He is one of our directors, and
said to be worth half a million of money." Mr. Brown,
who is one of us, you know, will gaze for a moment
with hushed reverence, and then, hurrying to the office, tell
his fellow-clerks what he has seen, adding that he should
like to have told old Pompous a bit of his mind about
the horrid low salaries and overwork in our department.
The heads of departments are, with rare exceptions,
the only portion of the executive with whom the board
comes in contact. They are not without their cares,
these directors, their lofty position notwithstanding ;
especially if the traffic for a given time does not show
well, or any of their transactions on behalf of the Com-
pany prove unfortunate ; for in such cases stockholders
are liable to*turn rusty and put awkward questions at
the next general meeting, which must be answered in a
more or less straightforward manner.
Next to the directors in point of precedence comes
the president or general superintendent. Most managers
of large railways have some special point about them for
which they are noted more than another. Some are
known as skilful diplomatists ; dexterous in drawing up
agreements ; far-seeing in their plans for the future ; not
to be outwitted by the stratagem of hostile lines. Others
UP AND DOWN THE RAIL. 2 "Jl
have a talent for developing the home traffic of their
lines by creating a trade where none existed before ; for
swelling the returns and realizing a thumping dividend
at the close of the fiscal year. These are the men whom
the shareholders delight to honor. Other managers there
are, in secondary positions, who are known as close
shavers and economists ; who cut down the expenses to
the lowest figure ; who are continually finding out some
morsel of cheese that needs paring ; payers of starvation
salaries ; detested in secret by all whom they employ ;
who think by such penny wisdom to make up for their
pound foolishness in other things. Here and there we
have still an ornamental sub-manager, a mechanical
figure with clock-work brains, placed on its pedestal by
patronage or accident ; not destined to remain there for
any length of time, but soon to run down and be displac-
ed by something more practical. The origin of our big
railroad men is as various as their talents. Some have
risen to the elevation they occupy from the humblest
positions on the Road, by aptitude, force of will, or good
fortune. These are generally your best men. As a rule
superintendents are well paid.
We may compare the general superintendent in his
cabinet to a spider seated at the nuclefls of his web,
controlling from that point a hundred diverging threads,
and itself scarcely seen, keeping ceaseless watch over the
whole. But, unlike the spider, who does all its business
by itself, our superintendent is obliged to employ sundry
subordinates, division or assistant superintendents, master
mechanics, road-masters to keep his web in working or-
der. Each takes one or more threads, and being respon-
sible to the spider-in-chief for their management.
To the road-master belongs the maintenance and re-
272
UP AND DOWN THE RAIL.
newal of the permanent way ; the formation and altera-
tion of branch lines, sidings, tunnels, bridges, viaducts,
etc. He must see, indeed, that the line is kept in thor-
ough repair from one end to the other. He has assist-
ants, of course, stationed up and down the line.
The secretary is, on most roads, the official representa-
tive of the Company. He keeps the stock and share ac-
counts, issues all dividend and interest warrants, acts as
treasurer, and receives all moneys. The auditor has the
management of the accounts of the line. The general
freight agent has charge of the traffic of the line, and the
general ticket or passenger agent, the management of the
passenger traffic. There is no class of men connected
with railways on whom greater responsibility rests than
on station agents. There are numerous small stations
on every road, where one man performs the whole of the
duties freight agent, ticket agent, express agent, tele-
graph operator, and switchman, all for a mere pittance
per month, and a small house. The agents of the larger
stations are generally recruited from among the more in-
telligent clerks, or the agents of smaller stations whose
business talents have attracted attention at headquarters.
From wiper to fireman, and from fireman to engineer,
is the scale which must be ascended by those who aspire
to the dignity of running a locomotive. A practical ac-
quaintance with their duties is thus insured in those to
whose care and vigilance thousands of lives are hourly
intrusted. There are no dirtier stations than those of
wiper and fireman. They have to clean out the engines,
light the fires, keep the brasses clean, and get everything
ready for the engineer. What with the steam, the oil,
and the dampness of the atmosphere, it is a difficult mat-
ter to keep a locomotive thoroughly bright and clean.
UP AND DOWN THE RAIL.
273
Engineers and firemen, when on the road, may often be
seen to take advantage of a spare moment to give the
brass a rub, or to bring out an oil can with a long nib,
and lubricate the interior of the iron monster under their
command. The engineer becomes much attached to his
locomotive, and frequently gives it the endearing name
of " wife" or " sweetheart."
It is a pleasant change when our fireman is made en-
gineer. For some time at first he is set to drive a yard
or construction engine, and is not intrusted with the lives
of men until his experience has been thoroughly tested.
The engineer is generally a sociable, easy-going fellow.
He earns his money readily, and spends it freely. The
healthy out-of-doors life he is forced to lead influences his
tastes in several ways. He is fond of company, fond of
his pipe, sometimes of his glass. He is a good husband
and father, and whatever his wife may be at home, he
likes to see her in fashionable attire on gala occasions.
He himself, when he is spruced up of an evening, is a
very different individual from the black, greasy-looking
person in overalls, who brought you in by the four o'clock
train this afternoon. Long habit has made night and day
alike to him, and he will get up at midnight as readily as
at noon. He gets a good meal at home before he sets
off ; for the rest he takes some coffee in a can and warms
it over the boiler, as an accompaniment to a few sand-
wiches or some bread and butter ; though he is not above
a steak grilled over the glowing embers as he rides along.
Brakemen and conductors occupy the same position
relatively as firemen-and engineers, though not one brake-
man in twenty ever becomes a conductor ; still each of
them may hope to be one of the fortunate. There are
two classes of brakemen and conductors passenger and
12*
274
UP AND DOWN THE RAIL.
freight. A combination of vigilance, honesty, firmness,
courage, and courtesy, is required to form a good railway
conductor or brakeman. Happily for the public, the
combination is by no means rare. He must wink at an
occasional cigar or pipe, if not too openly displayed, es-
pecially if there be no lady in the offending car. In case
of any- break-down or accident, he must have his wits
thoroughly about him, and see at a glance how the disas-
ter may be soonest remedied.
As to consolidations, let us run over the great Central
route, from the depot at Philadelphia to Pittsburg : from
Pittsburg, on the Steubenville, Columbus, and Pan-
Handle road, to Columbus ; from Columbus to Union
City, and branching to the left, to Indianapolis; from
Union City to Logansport ; from Logansport to the Illi-
nois State line, and the latter point, by the Toledo, Peoria,
and Warsaw Railway, complete to the Mississippi river,
and thence onward, maintaining a midland course to the
Pacific ocean. This great central combination, having
its base on the Atlantic, and its principal depots at New
York, Philadelphia, Washington, and Baltimore, which are
easily accessible New Jersey by the Lebanon Valley and
the Baltimore Central, and the latter by the Baltimore and
Ohio open a continuous avenue on a single longitudi-
nous line everywhere from the Atlantic ocean to the west-
ern terminus of the Pacific Railway. Wonderful prog-
ress indeed is all this, and it may well lead government
makers of New York to reflect a little upon the point,
whether it is either wise or possible to interdict consoli-
dations. It occurs to me, that such interdiction is of
near kin to that which would forbid the inventor to put
together the parts of his machine to answer the ends of
his discovery. For illustration, the greater number of
UP AND DOWN THE RAIL.
275
roads on a given line, the greater must be the expense,
delays, and the higher the rates. Consolidation is but an
expression of practical energy and economy. Twenty
roads here referred to are thrown into two or three, prac-
tically into one. For instance, from the Illinois State
line eastward the Toledo, Logan sport, and Burlington ;
the Union and Logansport ; the Columbus and Indianap-
olis ; the Indiana Central ; the Piqua making 362 miles
are made into the Indiana Central Company ; and so
of the entire line. Consolidations have taken the whole
route from Pittsburg to the Mississippi river at Keokuk or
Warsaw, under a single name, covering a distance of 680
miles.
XXVI.
A RAILWAY DETECTIVE'S CONFESSION.
RAILWAY detective got on Hod. Hale's train,
on the Erie Road, at Batavia, having bought a
ticket for Avon. He kept the ticket and paid
his fare. When they reached Avon, the end of
Hale's run, he produced the ticket with the remark,
" Here's a ticket I found on the platform," expecting
Hale to put it in his pocket. " Here's what we do with
those fellows," replied Hale, taking the ticket, punching
it and putting it in his pocket, "and now I'll show you
what we do with you fellows."
Hale then invited him to join him at his residence,
where he exacted from him the following confession :
"Up to the commencement of the present year I have
been employed as a railroad detective. Having found a
more honorable employment, and by way of penance for _
the past, I feel desirous of making some amends to that
class of men that I have heretofore aided, unjustly in
many cases, in vilifying, by giving a few facts of the work-
ings of that unscrupulous gang known as railway detec-
tives, so as to open the eyes of our railroad officials to
A RAIL WA Y DETEC TIVE 'S CONFESSION. 277
the injustice of condemning innocent men upon the word
of such as now belong to that gang.
" Any railroad company can ascertain that nine-tenths
of the conductors accused of dishonesty are accused un-
justly. The plan is, when a contract to work on a road
is taken, to first select a victim, to suppose at once that
he is guilty, and, reversing the maxim of the common law,
to either find or manufacture material to establish the
premises. A miracle alone can save him. The reputa-
tion of the men set to watch him is at stake, and they
feel that it is incumbent upon them to bring him in guilty
of fraudulent practices.
" One dodge is to get one to ask a conductor to change
a bill for accommodation, while another witnesses the
operation and swears and swears technically true that
he saw the conductor receive money, and neither return
nor punch a ticket. Another plan is to buy two tickets
at the office in one day, present one to the conductor and
retain the other, reporting that the conductor took it but
did not punch it. In the meanwhile, the unsold ticket is
given to the confederate, who will start the next day on
the same train for the same place, and presents the ticket
sold the day before to the conductor, who, if he did not
notice the date, is trapped. It is a very successful plan,
as it hangs both the conductor and the agent.
"Another dodge is this: several 'spotters' crowd
around the conductor, calling for tickets, and offering
money for different points on the road. The one who
pays for the point farthest off will manage to get the ticket
from the conductor that belongs to the one paying for the
nearest point. Some of the gang then get off at the near-
est station, leaving the tickets in the hands of one or two
who go the whole distance, giving up the long tickets
278 A RAILWAY DETECTIVE'S CONFESSION'.
and holding the short ones as evidence against the con-
ductor. Here a case is made, and the conductor cannot
make a satisfactory explanation.
" These are a few of the nefarious and rascally schemes
used by detectives. I do not say that conductors, as a
class, are any more honest than any other class ; but the
really dishonest ones are often in the ' ring,' and are sel-
dom reported. These are facts, and I could, were it ex-
pedient, give you the names of parties whom I know have
been unjustly dealt with. I have done all in my power
for them, have been to the executive, and in one case
have succeeded in having reinstated a man whom I be-
lieved to be strictly honest. And I now take another
step in the vindication of those wronged in the public
prints. Let the managers of railroads see and think, that
an evil may be remedied. Let them first select honor-
able men for this responsible position, and then treat
them as men."
XXVII.
THE FOUNDER OF THE RAILWAY SYSTEM.
A BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH.
MONG the ashes and slag of a poor colliery vil-
lage, near Newcastle-on-Tyne, in the unplas-
tered room, with a clay floor and garret roof, that
was the entire home of the family to which he was
born, there came into the world, on a June day, ninety
years ago, one of its best benefactors. The village is
named Wylam. In the year 1781, the family occupying
one of the four laborers' apartments contained in the cot-
tage known as High Street House, was that of Robert
Stephenson and his wife Mabel, their only child being a
two-year-old boy named James. On the ninth of June,
year just named, a second son was born to them, whom
they called George. That was George Stephenson, the
founder of the Railway System.
His father, known as "old Bob" by the neighbors,
was a fireman to the pumping engine at the Wylam col-
liery, earning not more than twelve shillings a week.
Little George carried his father's dinner to the engine,
helped to tug about and nurse the children younger than
2 8o THE FOUNDER OF THE RAILWAY SYSTEM.
himself, and to keep them out of the way of the chaldron
wagons on the wooden tram-road that ran close before
the threshold of the cottage door. If Mabel had been a
Pythoness, she might have discovered, as she stood in
the door, lines of fate in the two wooden couplets on the
road. But they only warned her of danger threatening
her children while at play.
The coal at Wylam was worked out, and old Bob's en-
gine, which had " stood till she grew fearsome to look
at," was pulled down. The poor family then followed
the work to Dewley Burn, where Robert Stephenson
waited as fireman on a newer engine. Little George
Geordie Steevie, as he was called was then eight years
old. Of course he had not been to school, but he was
strong, nimble of body and of wit, and eager to begin the
business of bread-winning with the least possible delay.
In a neighboring farm-house lived Grace Ainslie, a widow,
whose cows had the right to graze along the wagon road.
The post of keeping them out of the way of the wagons,
and preventing them from trespassing on other persons'
liberties, was given to George. He was to have a shil-
ling a week, and his duty was to include barring the gates
at night after the wagons had all passed.
That was the beginning of George Stephenson's career,
and from it he pushed forward inch by inch upward. Of
course he had certain peculiar abilities, but many may
have them, yet few do good with them. George Stephen-
son made his own fortune, and also added largely to the
wealth and general well-being of society. In climbing the
hill Difficulty, he was content to mount by short, firm
steps, keeping his eyes well upon the ground that happens
to lie next before his feet. It is not our purpose to fol-
low the details of his career, though no gossip would be
THE FOUNDER OF THE RAILWAY SYSTEM. 2 8l
more interesting and instructive. At the age of fourteen
he was promoted from the position of driver of the gin-
horse, to the post of assistant fireman to his father at the
Dewley engine. He was then so young that he used to
hide when the owner of the colliery came round, lest he
should think him too small for the place. At fifteen he
was promoted to the full office of fireman at a new
working. At the age of eighteen he could not read or
write his name. He was then getting his friend Coe to
teach him the mystery of braking, that he might, when
opportunity occurred, advance to the post of brakeman,
next above that which he held. He became curious
also to know, definitely, something about the famous en-
gines that were in those days planned by Watt and Bol-
ton. The desire for knowledge taught him the necessity
of learning to read books. He was promoted to the po-
sition of brakeman, and subsequently became engine-
wright to the colliery at Killingworth, at a salary of one
hundred pounds a year. He had now opportunities of
carrying still further his study of the engine, as well as
turning to account the knowledge he already possessed.
The locomotive was then known to the world as a new
toy, curious and costly. Stephenson had a perception of
what might be done with it, and was beginning to make it
the subject of his thoughts. The father entered him as a
member of the Newcastle Literary and Philosophical In-
stitution, and toiled with him over books of science bor-
rowed from its library. Various experiments had been
made with the new locomotive engines. One had been
tried on the Wylam tram-road, which went by the cottage
in which Stephenson was born. He was now thirty-two
years old, still brooding on the subject ; watched their
failures, worked at the theory of their construction, and
2 82 THE FOUNDER OF THE RAILWAY SYSTEM.
made it his business to see one. He felt his way to the
manufacture of a better engine, and proceeded to bring
the subject under the notice of the lessees of the colliery.
He had acquired reputation not only as an ingenious but
as a safe and prudent man. Lord Ravenswood, the prin-
cipal partner, therefore authorized him to fulfil his wish ;
and with the greatest difficulty, making workmen of some
of the colliery hands, with the colliery blacksmith as his
head assistant, he built his first locomotive in the work-
shops at Westmoor, and called it " My Lord." It was
the first engine constructed with smooth wheels, for
Stephenson never admitted the prevailing notion, that
contrivances were necessary to secure adhesion. " My
Lord " was called " Blucher " by the people round about.
It was first placed on the Killingworth Railway on the
twenty-fifth of July, eighteen hundred and fourteen, and
though a cumbrous machine, was the most successful that
had been constructed up to that date.
At the end of a year it was found that the work done
by Blucher cost about as much as the same work would
have cost if done by horses. Then it occurred to Ste-
phenson to turn the steam-pipe into the chimney, and
carry the smoke up with the draught of a steam-blast.
That would add to the intensity of the fire, and to the
rapidity with which steam could be generated. The
power of the engine was by this expedient doubled.
He had already made up his mind that the perfection
of a travelling engine would be half lost if it did not run
on a perfected rail. Engine and rail he spoke of, even
then, as " man and wife," and his contrivances for the im-
provement of the locomotive always went hand in hand
with his contrivances for the improvement of the road
upon which it ran. We need not follow the mechanical
THE FOUNDER OF THE RAILWAY SYSTEM. 283
details. In his work at the rail and engine, he made prog-
ress in his own way, inch by inch. Every new locomo-
tive built by him contained improvements on its prede-
cessor; every time he laid down a new rail he added
some new element of strength and firmness to it. The
Killingworth Colliery Railway was the seed from which
sprang the whole system of railway intercourse.
One of Stephenson's chief pleasures, in his latter days,
was to hold out a helping hand to poor inventors who
deserved assistance. Inch by inch he made his ground
good in the world, and for the world. A year before his
death, in 1848, somebody about to dedicate a book to
him, asked him what were his " ornamental initials."
His reply was, " I have to state that I have no flourishes
to my name, either before or after ; and I think it will be
as well if you merely say, George Stephenson."
XXVIII.
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE BAIL.
" Fifteen Years for Refreshments" "Gum Drops" A Mistake
An Accident "Is this Seat occupied?" "I'm going to
get out ! " An Intrusive Stranger " Golly, Boss ! " How the
Clergyman put it A Spread "Give us a Chaw ! " A Victim
The Lady and the Boy Twenty Minutes for Dinner The
Lady Smoker A Touching Scene Suspected Larceny Three-
Card Monte " Your Fare, if you please " " It is a Male! "
A more Successful Attempt The Naturalist and the Deacon
"Not Good on this Line " A Special Train A Little Sermon
A Pleasant Travelling Companion Swindlers Outwitted A
Thrilling Scene Married on the Platform A Ventriloquist
Aboard The Metamorphosis Sunshine and Storm The Back
Seat.
RETURNED traveller empties his portman-
teau, and enters upon his Diary the anecdotes'
and incidents he has gathered by the way :
We had on our train a keeper who was tak-
ing two convicts to the State Prison. When the train
stopped at Sing Sing, he called out : " Step out, gentle-
men, fifteen years for refreshments ! "
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL. 2 S$
The train-boy came along with his basket of candy
and corn, and approaching an old gentleman near me,
said: "Pop corn! Pop corn!" "Haven't got any
teeth," angrily replied the old man. " Gum drops ! gum
drops," called the smart boy. .
I rode a short distance with the governor of one of
the Western States, a gallant and jocose man. He sat
in the same seat with a friend, when two young men
came in, escorting two young ladies. There were no va-
cant seats, and the governor and his friend surrendered
their own. What was their astonishment to see the
young men occupy the seats and take the young ladies
on their laps! "What a mistake," exclaimed the gov-
ernor ; " we might have done that ! "
I rode from Hartford with a friend of the late Mr.
Heaton, who repeated the remark made by that gentle-
man in 1839: "T have been watching the stages. I
find that the average number of passengers in Hartford
and New Haven stages is twenty-seven. If anybody
wants to invest $3,000,000 in a railroad between these
two cities, I am willing they should go ahead. I won't
invest ! "
We were coming into Charleston, South Carolina, when
the locomotive ran into a mule team. We were thrown
from the track, and getting out, found the cart destroyed
and the driver fatally injured. The mule calmly stood
by and watched the proceedings with a pleasant smile.
" Is this seat occupied ? " asked an exquisite of an
elderly lady of rustic design in the cars at Norwalk on
one occasion.
" I don't know," said she, hastily running her hands,
with a great deal of solicitude, over the surface. " It
feels mostly like plush, but you can't most always tell ! "
286 ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
A young lady entered our crowded car at a certain
station. An old gentleman arose at the opposite end as
she approached. " Oh, don't rise," said the lovely girl,
" I can just as well stand."
" I don't care whether you sit or stand," he replied,
" I'm going to get out ! "
Every time a train approaches a station called ,
on a Connecticut road, a man sits on a fence near the
depot. He had done so daily for fifteen years. He had
an old mare so frightened by the pesky "kears" once,
that she died of convulsions. He is now daring those
" kears " to try their darned noise on him. If they serve
him as they did the mare, he is just going to have the
whole infernal thing stopped !
There is always an intrusive stranger aboard. He
asked a little girl sitting by her mother as to her name,
destination, etc. After learning that she was going to
Philadelphia, he asked : " What motive is taking you
thither ? " "I believe they call it the locomotive, sir,"
was the innocent reply. The intrusive stranger got an-
other seat.
A smart young commercial tourist, who rides on the
rail a good deal in Wisconsin, has a habit of jumping off
the cars at stations where opportunities offer, and " kiss-
ing his sister." He apologizes when he discovers his
mistake. I was on the train when he made his last vent-
ure. The damsel raised her veil and exclaimed : " Golly^
boss, what you 'bout dar ? "
Detained over the Sabbath in a railroad centre, I at-
tended divine service. I wrote down the following met-
aphor from the clergyman's sermon :
" At the death of the just, the locomotive of his soul,
driven by the coal of faith and the steam of hope, dashes
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL. 287
along the rails of charity toward that immovable depot
where is found the eternal symbol which is God."
A woman in Boston is trying to recover five thousand
dollars from a horse-railroad company, in part payment
for sundry breaks, jars, and fractures received on account
of having a lot of passengers fall upon her. The rails
sprung, and the car sprung from the track. The Company
acknowledge the " spread " so far as the track is con-
cerned, but why they should be held responsible for the
passengers " spreading " themselves over the plaintiff,
they are at a loss to know. She says if they don't pay
she will never ride in one of their cars again. So, now !
I had just bought a morning paper, when a large and
powerfully-built passenger exclaimed :
" Who dare spit tobacco juice on the floor of this
car ? " at the same time stalking down the aisle, frowning
upon the passengers.
" I dare," said a burly-looking fellow, as he deliberately
ejected a quantity of the noxious saliva upon the floor of
the aisle.
" All right, my friend," said the first speaker, slapping
the other in a friendly manner upon the shoulder, " give
us a chaw ! "
There was a horrible catastrophe on the Dijon Railroad,
over in France. We came along the next day, and
stopped to view the wreck. An old man presented him-
self at the place of disaster. A workman, who was col-
lecting the debris and clearing the track, inquired what
he wanted :
" Monsieur, I am one of the victims."
The workman looked up, and seeing a man without in-
jury, inquired, " Whom have you lost, then your wife,
your child, and friend ? "
288 ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
" No, monsieur, I have lost my umbrella."
The workman searched among the broken cars, and
by a singular chance found the umbrella.
"There," said he, giving it to the peasant, "you are
lucky to get out of the scrape that way."
" You call that lucky," returned the man ; " look here,
they have broken two whalebones ! "
We were on the 4.30 train from New York, and as we
reached Stamford, an antique-looking dame thrust her
head out of the window opposite the door of the refresh-
ment room, and briefly shouted, "Sonny /"
A bright-looking boy came up to the window.
" Little boy," said she, " have you a mother ? "
" Yes, ma'am."
" Do you love her ? "
" Yes, ma'am."
" Do you go to school, dear ? "
"Yes, ma'am."
"And are you faithful to your studies?"
"Yes, ma'am."
"Do you say your prayers every night ? "
"Yes, ma'am."
" Can I trust you to do an errand for me ? "
"Yes, ma'am."
" I think I can too," said the kind lady, looking stead-
ily down on the manly face.
" Here is five cents, get me an apple. Remember
God sees you ! "
"Twenty minutes for dinner!" shouted the brake-
man as we approached Xenia.
Arrived there, I entered the dining-room and inquired
of a waiter :
" What do you have for dinner?"
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL. 289
" Twenty minutes," was the hurried reply.
I told him I would try half a dozen minutes, raw, on
the half-shell, just to see how they went. Told him to
make a minute of it on his books. He scratched his
head trying to comprehend the order, but finally gave it
up and waited upon some one else.
I approached a man who stood near the door with a
roll of money in his hand.
" What do you have for dinner ? "
" Half a dollar," says he.
I told him that I would take half a dollar well done.
I asked him if he could send me, in addition, a boiled
pocket-book stuffed with greenbacks, and some seven-
thirties garnished with postage-stamps and ten-cent scrip.
Also a Confederate bond, done brown, with lettuce alone
(let us alone). I would like to wash my dinner down
with National Bank Notes on "draft."
He said they were out of everything but the bank-
notes, and he then ordered a waiter to go to the bank
and "draw" some.
One night, passing from Wilmington to Florence, Ala-
bama, our car was filled with gentlemen, only one lady
being present. After we had proceeded some way, it
was proposed to have a smoke. So when the conductor
came through, he was asked if he would allow us to
smoke. He pointed to the lady and replied, " If she has
no objections, smoke away." I went to the lady, and
bowing, asked if it would be offensive to her. " Not at
all, my dear sir," she answered, politely. "I am so
lonesome, if I had a cigar I would smoke myself." She
was supplied with one, and we were a set of happy fellows.
We were on the night train of the Atlantic and Great
Western Railroad, when a touching scene occurred. An
13
290
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
old lady, an invalid, was in the cars, and watched over
with tender care by her daughter and son-in-law, to whose
city home she was going for the benefit of her health.
One of the sections was comfortably arranged, so that
the old lady said she should rest as well as if at home.
Before retiring the young people sang a hymn in an un-
der-tone, the mother seeming to enjoy it thoroughly,
while she gazed out into the dim twilight. Several times
during the night the daughter went to her mother's side
to see that she was resting well; but about four o'clock
she spoke to her mother, and no answer was returned.
A wild cry was heard : " Mother's dead ! " and the
startled passengers became aware that the aged invalid
had passed to the spirit land without a struggle. When the
old lady left her own village home she had said : " Tell
my friends, if I slip away on this journey, that I was
ready and willing to go."
I was called upon to interfere in behalf of a Sacra-
mento lady on one occasion, who had been arraigned for
larceny under suspicious circumstances. She was riding
in a crowded railway car, and occupied a seat with
another lady passenger. Like a great many other wo-
men of the present day, she were curls her own hair, of
course, but it wasn't fastened on strictly according to
Nature's programme. By and by, as the train jolted
along, she felt something falling about her face and neck,
and in a second it flashed across her brain that her curls
had become detached. The predicament was a shocking
one, but she endeavored to save herself as much as pos-
sible by quietly passing the capillary ornament into her
pocket, thanking her stars that she was almost at her des-
tination. At the station she hastened to the dressing-
room to repair damages to her toilet, when, behold ! the
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
291
mirror reflected back the fact that her curls were in their
proper position, and an examination of those in her
pocket showed that they were not hers, but of a different
color, and belonging to the lady who sat by her side in
the car.
I was on the Kansas City, St. Joe, and Council Bluffs
train, and when between Leavenworth and Kansas City,
saw a party of three-card monte men fleece a New York
drummer out of $1,300. The victim was a German, and
fell in with one of the " cappers," who was likewise a
German. The German confederate represented the
Texas cattle-drover to perfection, and managed, by his
frank and unsophisticated demeanor, to enlist the confi-
dence and co-operation of the New York commercial
representative in a venture to capture the funds of the
monte men. The "commercial man" won several
times, and always received his winnings in counterfeit
bills. At length he lost all his greenbacks, and put up a
draft for $1,000, which he had just received at Kansas
City, and the draft followed the cash into the pockets of
the monte rascals. The victimized " drummer " retired
from the game quite overwhelmed with despair. The
draft belonged to the firm which the commercial man
represented ; and when the victim found that he had
not guessed the winning card, he walked at once to the
rear car of the train, took a seat, and gazed out of the
window for a moment, and then went out upon the plat-
form.
I heard that he was picked up next day, with his throat
cut from ear to ear.
"Your fare, if you please, madam," said the conductor
to an elderly lady who had got aboard at a way station.
The elderly lady looked up, and, drawing forth a letter,
292
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
spoke with a voice that was shrill : " Two of Mr. 's
children is dead, and they've writ me to come to the buryin
to-day. Isn't it terrible!" The conductor looked as
shocked as possible, and expressed sympathy. " And,"
continued the old lady, " I want you to let me ride free."
"I can't let you ride free unless you have a pass," re-
turned the conductor, mildly. " Not to go to a funeral! "
said the old lady. " No, madam," replied the conduc-
tor. " I'm sorry to say that the rules of the road are
very strict, and I am not allowed to discriminate."
"Well, I think you oughtn't to charge toll for going to
a funeral," persisted the old lady. ''If we let everybody
going to funerals ride free," again spoke the conductor,
"it wouldn't pay. Besides, it would be encouraging the
funeral business in a way that would cast a gloom over
the entire country. Your fare is a dollar and a half,
madam." "Well," retorted the old lady, drawing out a
well-filled purse, " I think you might let me go free,
'specially as I'm going to a double funeral. Mr. 's
children is. both dead, and they'll be buried in the same
grave, I reckon. Oh ! it's a turrible blow ! " And the
old lady, wiping her eyes, paid her fare. As the con-
ductor moved on, she turned to a passenger and re-
marked, with some indignation, "These railroaders is the
most unfeeliri folks I ever seed."
An elegant lady entered the car, addressing the con-
ductor who followed.
"I won't go except in a ladies' car; the regulations
oblige you to have one, and you shall."
" Certainly, ma'am, certainly. I'll order one imme-
diately ; but that baby can't go in it, ma'am. It must
stay in the gentlemen's car ; it is a male/"
I made a note of a more successful attempt that came
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
293
under my observation at a busy junction on a Wisconsin
road. A clean, well-dressed man attempted to enter the
rear car of the train, but was stopped by the brakeman,
and told to go to the next car forward, as the rear one was
reserved for ladies and gentlemen accompanied by ladies.
A merry twinkle was in the young man's eye, as he
stepped from the car to the platform. He walked straight
to a robust and somewhat remarkable female representa-
tive from the land of shamrock, and very courteously
offered to assist her in transporting her bundles, which
were neither few nor slight, to the train. The words
" May the good Lord bless your honor," were the only
ones that reached me ; but it was evident that his offices
were accepted. Then, after some conversation in an
under-tone, the pair who had so recently, and in plain
view of Mr. Brakeman, become travelling companions,
approached the forbidden car. When about to enter, the
brakeman interposed his person, and directed him to
go to the next car. The man insisted that his lady and
himself had, under the rules laid down, a right to enter.
The brakeman replied,
" It is not your lady."
The traveller, turning confidentially to his new-found
appendage, asked, in the most winning way :
" Arn't you, my dear ? "
(The woman had cheeks like a cheese-rind and a nose
like a piece of decayed beefsteak.) Clearly, and to the
point, came the answer :
" Shure I am, darlint."
There was no resisting such proofs, and the pair
marched in triumph to a seat, amid roars of laughter
from the passengers, who had been attentive spectators
of the scene.
294
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
I fell in with a naturalist and a Baptist deacon on the
Union Pacific Road, only last autumn. They made a
deal of sport, but one incident will perhaps suffice.
" Do you see that pretty woman in there ? " asked the
naturalist of the deacon. The speaker pointed to a
neatly-dressed, modest-appearing lady, who was eating
with the other passengers at one of the feeding stations.
" Yes, what of her ? "
" Oh, nothing, only I'll bet you a new hat that I'll go
in and kiss her."
"That's nothing; anybody can kiss a woman."
" But I never saw her before. I'll agree if she makes
any fuss about it, to pay for the hat."
" Don't you know her, honest?"
" Upon my word."
" Never saw her before ? "
" Never, so help me."
" If s a bet."
The naturalist walked up to the lady, put his face down
to hers, and then kissed her squarely on the cheek. To
the infinite surprise of the Baptist deacon, she did not hit
him with a water pitcher, or scream " murder." She sim-
ply glanced up at him, blushed a little, and then called
for another bit of the sliced ham,
" Is the naturalist among women what Rarey is among
horses ? " was the mental inquiry of the Baptist deacon,
in connection with the probable price, in coin, of a %\
hat in San Francisco.
I took the New York and Harlem Road at Fourth
avenue and Twenty-sixth street one day, and shared a
seat with a well-known Doctor of Divinity. He is a
positive man, and resents an insult as vehemently as a
man of the world. Engaged earnestly in conversation,
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
295
he handed the conductor a ticket, as he came to collect
the fare. The conductor did not move on. As he re-
mained studying the ticket, the doctor's attention was
attracted toward the official, who appeared to be highly
interested in the piece of pasteboard. He read it,
smiled, shook his head, and finally said to the doctor :
" This may all be very well, but the ticket is not good
on this line."
" Whafs the reason it's not good, I should like to
know ? " said the testy doctor ; " I bought it not half an
hour ago ! "
" I guess not," said the conductor. The altercation
drew the attention of all the passengers. " This is very
good advice, but it will not pass you over this line," and
the conductor read : " Thou shalt not take the name of
the Lord thy God in vain."
An explosion followed, amid which the doctor paid his
fare. He has concluded to keep his religious tickets in
a separate packet.
I give the next incident a prominent place in my Diary,
because I was a party in the adventure.
A Portsmouth, New Hampshire, man hired a special
train in Boston for $75.00, and upon reaching Newbury-
port, was joined by a clergyman and several ladies, who
entered the car without invitation, apparently thinking it
a regular train. The rightful tenant of the train said
nothing, except to ask the ladies' permission to continue
smoking. The minister was highly incensed at this, and
after reading a long homily on the evil effects of tobacco,
branched off on the impoliteness to his " fellow-men and
wimming," in thus smoking in a public conveyance.
The smoker making no reply, the minister became en-
raged, and started for the depot-master. This official
296 ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
entered the car and told its occupants that it had been
hired by the gentleman who was using the weed, who
could smoke, drink, chew, or stand on his head the whole
journey, if he pleased, and if the people in the car didn't
like it, they could wait for the regular train, which was
coming on behind. The dominie apologized, amid the
titter of the ladies.
At a certain railroad station on our route, one of those
beautiful lessons which all should learn, was taught in
such a natural, simple way, that I shall never forget it.
It was a bleak, snowy day ; the train was late, the ladies'
waiting-room dark and smoky, and the dozen women, old
and young, who sat impatiently waiting, all looked cross,
stupid, or low-spirited. Just then a forlorn old woman,
shaking with the palsy, came in with a basket of little
wares for sale, and went about mutely offering them to
the sitters. Nobody purchased, and the poor old soul
stood blinking at the door a moment, as if reluctant to go
out again into the bitter storm. Presently she turned and
poked about the room, as if in search for something, and
then a pale lady in black, who lay as if asleep on a sofa,
opened her eyes, saw the old woman, and instantly asked
in a kind voice
" Have you lost anything, ma'am ? "
" No, dear. I'm looking for the heating place to have
a warm 'fore I go out agin. My eyes are poor, and I
don't seem to find the furnace anywhere."
" Here it is;" and the lady led her to the steam radi-
ator, placed a chair, and showed her how to warm her
feet.
"Well, now, ain't that nice?" said the old woman,
spreading her ragged mittens to dry. "Thankee, dear;
'this is proper comfortable, ain't it? I'm most froze to-
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
297
day, bein' lame and aching ; and not selling much made
me sort of down-hearted."
The lady smiled, went to the counter, bought a cup of
tea and some sort of food, carried it herself to the old
woman, and said, as respectfully and kindly as if the poor
old soul had been dressed in silk and fur, "Won't you
have a cup of hot tea ? It's very comforting such a day
as this."
" Sakes alive ! Do they give tea at this depot ? " cried
the old lady in a tone of innocent surprise, that made a
smile go round the room, touching the glummest face
like a streak of sunshine. " Well, now, this is just lovely,"
added the old lady, sipping away with a relish. " That
does warm my heart."
While she refreshed herself, telling her story meanwhile,
the lady looked over the poor little wares in the basket,
bought soap, pins> and shoe-strings, and cheered the old
soul by paying well for them.
As my companion and myself watched her doing this,
we thought what a sweet face she had, though it seemed
very plain before. We felt much ashamed of ourselves,
that we had grimly shaken our heads when the basket had
been offered us, only a moment before. As I saw a look
of interest, sympathy, and kindness come into the faces
around me, I wished that I had been the magician to call
it out. It was only a kind word and a friendly act, but
somehow it brightened that dingy room. It changed the
faces of a dozen women, and I think it touched a dozen
hearts, for I saw many eyes follow the pale, plain lady with
sudden respect. When the old woman with many thanks
got up to go, several persons beckoned to her and bought
something, as if they wanted to repair their negligence.
I was the only gentleman present to be impressed by
13*
298
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
the lady's kind act ; so it was not done for effect. No
possible reward could be received for it, save the thank's
of a poor old woman. But that simple little charity was
as good as a sermon, and I think each traveller resumed
the journey better for that half-hour in the dreary sta-
tion.
The 10.40 morning train on the New York Central is
the express, and on this occasion it was in charge of Mr.
Frank Klock. Two men got on board at Canastota, and
one of them had his face so muffled up, that it was im-
possible to catch a glimpse of any portion of his visage,
save his eyes. He took his seat, and after awhile, paid
his fare to Utica. Just in the rear of the muffled individ-
ual, sat a gentleman occupied with his newspaper. As
Klock took the fare the reader looked up and asked :
" Conductor, what is it that smells so ? "
" I don't smell anything yet, sir," was the reply.
" But I do. Perhaps it is this paper just bought of the
newsboy." (And he smells the paper.) " It smells as if
if some one were sick ! "
The conductor left the car, and thought little more of
the matter, but the passengers took the suggestion, and
commenced snuff, snuff, snuff, and the most uneasy one
of all was the inquiring gentleman who sat in the rear of
the muffled passenger. The conductor returned, and as
he opened the door, he too was struck with the singular
odor that now pervaded the car. The small-pox was
then raging in some of the Eastern cities, and the un-
pleasant suggestion at once flashed upon him : " Possibly
that muffled man has the disease." The car was very
warm, yet the fellow never disturbed his wrappings. The
train was just leaving Oneida, and the odor grew stronger.
Klock approached the man and inquired :
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
299
" What ails you, sir ? "
"Nothing, sir."
" Are you not sick ? "
" No, sir ! "
" But your face is broken out," continued Klock,
" and I believe you have the small-pox, and that you are
the cause of this sickening smell in the car. It is my
duty to inform the passengers that I think you have the
small-pox, that they may protect themselves." And he
sang out
" I think this passenger has the small-pox, and gentle-
men had better obtain seats in the other cars."
This was enough. The inquiring man who had "snuffed"
the most cleared the back of his seat at a single bound.
In his haste and terror he attempted to take a bee-line
for the door through a very fat old lady who was aiming
in the same direction. The remainder of the passengers
also hurried to the doors, and some thirty seconds elapsed
before Klock and his patient were left alone. At Rome
Mr. Klock telegraphed to Utica that the city authorities
might arrange to receive their distinguished visitor with
proper attention. But none of the authorities appeared,
and the Central cut the Gordian knot by switching the
car from the train on a side-track, where Mr. Small-pox
was left alone. The Board of Health finally took him in
charge.
At a point about 280 miles east of Kansas City, an
elderly and clerical-looking individual engaged a sleep-
ing berth on our train for that city. He selected the
lower berth of a section, the upper half of which had been
engaged by two dapper-looking individuals, who, shortly
after the train started, came back from the smoking-car
and took seats in their section. The trio soon struck
3o
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
up a travelling acquaintance, and judging from the pleas -
ant expression of the three countenances, this acquaint-
ance was mutually agreeable and profitable, as will pres-
ently be seen.
The elderly gentleman, who may be known here as
Mr. Greene, was a retired merchant from Central New
York, on his way West to invest in corner-lots and Kan-
sas lands. He was one of those benignant old sun-flowers
whose smiles beam alike upon the just and the unjust ;
whose well-filled pocket-book is always forthcoming to
change a ten or a twenty for some casual companion who
doesn't happen to have any small bills about him ; and
whose worldly goods are but as legitimate spoils for the
confidence gentry that is to say, judging from the way
he appeared to me. His companions, whom I will call
Sharpe and Ketchum, were of that class to be met with
all over the railroad world, fashionable vagrants, who
travel on their shape.
By and by the conductor of the Pullman Palace Car
came around to collect his fare for berths.
The elderly gentleman, being first in order, produced
a pocket-book, at once well-worn and well-filled, and
paid his little fare, and then came the turn of the other
two. Now, Sharpe had plenty of money, while Ketchum,
though laden with exchange on New York and Buffalo,
had run out of currency. Sharpe paid his small bill, but
Ketchum ransacked his pocket-book and vest pockets in
vain. Sharpe very generously offered to pay his com-
panion's bill, but the latter wouldn't hear of any such
sacrifices on the part of his friend. He would, however,
gladly accept cash for one of his drafts, if Sharpe would
be so kind, but under no circumstances would he accept
any other favor. It transpired that Sharpe would be so
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
30I
kind. So Ketchum produced a draft purporting to be
drawn to his order on the " Commercial National Bank"
of Buffalo, amounting to $157.40. But Sharpe could not
make the change. Would the elderly gentleman be so
unutterably gracious as to break a fifty for him. Of
course he would but he couldn't. But a happy thought
struck Sharpe. If his companion had such delicate
scruples about permitting him to pay his bill, perhaps the
elderly gentleman would purchase the draft. Certainly
he would do that, but investigation revealed that he had
nothing smaller than a one-hundred-dollar bill, except
some desultory change the conductor had given him for
a five when he paid his bill. Finally Sharpe and Ketchum
laid their heads and their finances together, and suc-
ceeded in making up a purse of $203.40, including the
draft for $157.40, and $40 currency, whereat the elderly
gentleman gave them two $100 notes and his $3 in
change they generously "throwing in" the 40 cents
wherewith Ketchum paid his bill, and the conductor went
on his way rejoicing, while the financiers prepared to re-
tire by having their bunks " made up."
Morning revealed the fact that Sharpe and Ketchum
had found it convenient to step off at some casual station
during the night, though the elderly gentleman quietly
enjoyed his regular rest. The conductor, fearing from
indications that his passenger had been swindled, ap-
proached him and said :
" I am afraid that draft you got last night was a
fraud."
" Well," was the bland response of the imperturbable
Greene, "I presume it is, but if it's any bigger fraud than
the two $100 notes were, why then I ain't $53 in good
money ahead, which I think I am."
302
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
He added that he was not in the habit of passing coun-
terfeit money, but he happened to have them with him,
and having measured the two chaps who had attempted
to swindle him, he had quietly determined to beat them
at their own game.
" If you want anything more," said he, " to make this
affair satisfactory, I can give you good references, either
in Kansas City or New York, where I reside."
We didn't demand the references.
This was on the Omaha express, east, on the Chicago
and Northwestern Railway. As the train stopped at Round
Grove, a small station about ten miles west of Sterling,
Illinois, two ladies, one of them carrying a baby about
eight months old, got aboard the train, and took seats in
the ladies' car. As the train was about starting again, a
German, whom we subsequently learned was named
Henry Bohlman, the husband of the woman with the
child, stepped aboard, and entered the ladies' car. Pass-
ing along the aisle, until opposite the two ladies, he sud-
denly drew a revolver, and fired at his wife, who still held
the child in her arms. Fearing he had not succeeded in
his hellish work, he attempted to fire the second time, but
was seized by one of the passengers and a brakeman, and
the revolver taken from him. He was secured and taken
into the baggage-car, where he was carefully guarded
until the train reached Sterling, when he was handed
over to the proper authorities. On examination it was
found that the lady was uninjured, but the murder-
ous ball had pierced and gone entirely through both
thighs of the unfortunate child, causing a very serious,
though not fatal wound. The man expressed himself
as very sorry that he had missed his wife and hit the
child. Conductor Wilcox afterwards informed us that
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL. 303
Bohlman was actuated by jealousy and the usual sus-
picion.
A young friend in Paris was telling me how he came
by his German wife. While travelling in that country, he
took the road from Strasbourg to Berlin. In the car-
riage he selected were four other persons, two mammas
and two daughters. The two mothers were face to face
in one corner ; the young man took the opposite, and
found himself face to face with the young ladies. He
put on a careless and absent air. The collector came to
demand the tickets. The young man paid no attention
at all, when the request was many times repeated.
Roused at last from his reverie in presence of the ladies,
he had recourse to a ruse, to avoid exciting ridicule.
"What are you saying," said he. "Why do you not
speak French?"
The collector then explained by signs, the ticket was
examined, and the young man returned to his reverie ;
but not to enjoy it long, for this time the young ladies
roused him. They began in full voice :
"This young man is a very handsome one," said one.
" Hist, Bertha ! " said the other, in a sort of affright.
" Why, he doesn't know a word of German," said Ber-
tha. " We can talk freely. What do you think of him ? "
" Only ordinary," was the reply.
"You are difficult to please. He has a charming figure
and genteel air."
" He is too pale, and besides, you know I do not like
dark men."
" And you know I prefer dark to fair. We have noth-
ing but fair faces in Germany. It is monotonous and
commonplace."
" You forget that you are a blonde."
304
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
' " Oh, for woman it is different. He has nice mus-
taches."
" Bertha, if your mother should hear you ! "
" She is busy with her talk to your mother ; besides, it
is no harm to speak of mustaches."
" I prefer the light mustaches of Albert."
"I understand you and Albert are engaged; but I,
who am without a lover, am free to exercise my opinions,
and as free to say that this young man has beautiful
eyes."
" They have no expression," returned the other.
" You do not know. I am sure he has much spirit;
and it is a pity he does not speak German ; he would
chat with us."
"Would you marry a Frenchman? "
" Why not, if he looks like this one, and was spirited,
well-born, and amiable? But I can hardly keep from
laughing. See, he doesn't dream what we are saying."
The young traveller was endowed with a great power
of self-control, and he had preserved his absent and inat-
tentive air all the time ; and while the dialogue continued
he thought what curious results his attempts to avert a
laugh, by pretending not to know German, had brought
about. He looked carefully at Bertha, and his resolu-
tion was taken. At the next station the collector came
again for the tickets, when the young man, with extra
elaboration, and in excellent German, said :
"Ah J you want my ticket. Veiy well let me see :
I believe it is in my porte?nonnaie. Oh, yes ; here it is ! "
The effect was startling. Bertha became nearly sense-
less, but soon recovered under the polite apologies of the
young Frenchman. They were pleased with each other ;
and in a few weeks Bertha ratified her good opinion of
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
305
the young man, and gave a practical proof of her willing-
ness to wed a Frenchman.
I found that they have a queer way of doing things
matrimonial, down in Cave City, where, just before our
arrival, the Grand Duke had taken his Kentucky hash.
David Brown is a rollicking son of Kentucky, a true type
of the independent village or country youth, who is just
entering upon his maturity. Maria Martin is, or was, a
village maiden of some charms, and a good deal of spirit
and Kentucky grit. David and Maria courted and loved
and agreed to marry ; for the fair lady told us all about
it herself. For some reason, David put off the sol-
emnization of the nuptials from time to time, until Maria's
patience became exhausted. Meeting her lover one day,
she said to him, with more emphasis than elegance :
" I tell you what it is, Dave ; you've got to dry up this
nonsense, and quit this foolin.' It's about time we was
married ; and I want you to come to time."
"Dave" thought he would come to time; but as the
parties had met on the platform of the depot at Cave
City, David was at a loss to know where he and Maria
would have the ceremony performed. Maria's wits were
sharp enough for the emergency, and so she told David
she would provide a place, and started him off to the
county clerk for the necessary license.
During his absence, Maria entered the depot, and
asked the station-agent for the privilege of being married
on the platform in front of the depot.
" Certainly," replied the polite agent ; " or right here
in the depot, if you prefer. But here comes the passen-
ger ; hadn't you better wait till it goes by ? "
" No, not if ' Dave ' hurries up ; can't wait for nothing.
We'll take the platform here."
3<d6 ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
David soon returned with the license, accompanied by
his brother, who swore the wedding should not take
place. We arrived and were informed of what was going
on, just as the brother was using cuss words, and drew a
pistol, which fairly riled David, who also flirted out a re-
volver. He would have demolished the interfering
brother but for the interposition of the passengers, who
hustled the offender into the baggage-room, away from
the scene.
The marriage then took place, the parties standing out
in the cold upon the platform, while the ceremony was
being performed. David rather enjoyed the novelty of
the affair. " By gosh, this is bully, ain't it, Mariar ? " he
exclaimed. "You bet, Dave," responded Maria, and
then the happy pair went on their way rejoicing. Long
life to them, and may their tribe increase.
On the cars going from Providence to Boston, we
found a well-known magician and ventriloquist, whom I
will name Fritz. The conductor came around to collect
the fare. The magician, who was busily engaged reading
a newspaper at the time, did not notice what was going
on, until he heard the words, " Your fare, sir." He
quietly put his hand in his pocket, and drew forth a silver
dollar, of a peculiar denomination, and quickly handed it
to the conductor, that being the amount of the fare. The
conductor, pleased at coming in possession of so accepta-
ble a pocket piece, placed it hurriedly in his pocket and
moved on. On his return, Fritz stopped him and said :
" In passing you my fare, sir, I made a great mistake.
I was busy reading, and did not notice that I gave you a
silver coin, which was given me as a keepsake, by an
intimate friend. Please redeem it, and I will pay my fare
in currency."
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL. 307
" Certainly, sir, with the greatest of pleasure," at the
same time reaching in his pocket. After fumbling around
there for some time, and not finding it, he changed color
and was much embarrassed, lest the passenger might
think he was deceiving him. The other passengers, see-
ing the conductor looking so confused, began to gather
around to see what the excitement was about. After the
magician had puzzled him for some time, he placed his
hand in his own vest pocket, and brought forth the same
silver dollar. The conductor was thunderstruck.
" I would like to know, sir, how you got that piece out
of my pocket, without my knowledge ? "
" You did not put it in your pocket," was the reply ;
" I took it from your hand before it reached your pocket."
The conductor was puzzled, and warned the passen-
gers to avoid the man. At this juncture, one old man
cried out " Gentlemen, I am robbed of every dollar ! "
" Begorra," yelled an Irishman, " sthop the train ; Biddy's
money is gone ! "
A green-looking Yankee, on his way from Chicago to
Vermont, sings out on looking at his pocket-book : " Well,
I'll be gol darned, what became of my two dollars and
sixteen cents, I had when I left Chicago ? I thought I
left all thieves there, but there's some of 'em on this train."
An old woman sitting in the rear of Fritz, on discover-
ing the loss of her money, cried out : " My God, what
shall I do ? I am a ruined woman." Then the children
set up one of the most unearthly yells that I ever heard.
Taking all together, there never was such a scene on a
train of cars before. After the cunning showman had
advertised himself sufficiently, he turned to the conductor
with the remark :
"I guess there has been no passengers sacked; I
308
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
was merely testing my ventriloquial powers;" at the
same time pulling out his pocket-book to pay his fare and
redeem his silver dollar.
A young English lady who was in our party on the
Continent, being called upon for a concluding tale of the
train, communicated the following adventure :
" Although," she commenced, " I am often compelled
to travel without a companion, yet have I such a dislike
for sick folk and babies, that I never made a journey in a
ladies' carriage. Only once, however, have I suffered any
inconvenience through my unprotected condition, and that
exception occurred on this very line. After I had taken
my seat one morning at Paddington, in an empty carriage,
I was joined just as the train was moving off, by a strange-
looking young man, with remarkably long hair. He was
of course a little hurried, but he seemed besides to be so
disturbed and wild, that I was quite alarmed for fear of
his not being in his right mind, nor did his subsequent
conduct quite reassure me. Our train was an express,
and he inquired eagerly, at once, which was the first sta-
tion whereat we were advertised to stop. I consulted
my Bradshaw, and furnished him with the required in-
formation. It was Reading. The young man looked at
his watch.
" ' Madam,' said he, ' there is but half an hour between
me, and, it may be, ruin. Excuse me, therefore, for my
abruptness. You have, I perceive, a pair of scissors in
your work-bag. Oblige me, if you please, by cutting off
all my hair.'
" ' Sir,' said I, ' it is impossible.'
" ' Madame,' he urged, and a look of severe determina-
tion crossed his features, ' I am a desperate man. Be-
ware how you refuse me what I ask. Cut my hair off
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
309
close to the roots immediately, and here is a newspaper
to hold the ambrosial curls.'
" I thought he was mad, of course, and believing that
it would be dangerous to thwart him, I cut off all his hair
to the last lock.
" ' Now, madam,' said he, unlocking a small portman-
teau, ' you will further oblige me by looking out of the
window, as I am about to change my clothes.'
" Of course I looked out of the window for a very
considerable time, and when he observed, ' Madam, I
need no longer put you to any inconvenience,' I did not
recognize the young man in the least.
" Instead of his former rather gay costume, he was at-
tired in black, and wore a gray wig and silver spectacles.
He looked like a respectable divine of the Church of
England, of about sixty-four years of age. To complete
that character, he held a volume of sermons in his hand,
which might have been his own.
" ' I do not wish to threaten you, young lady,' he re-
sumed, ' and I think besides, that I can trust your kind
face. Will you promise me not to reveal this metamor-
phosis until your journey's end? '
" ' I will,' said I, ' most certainly.'
" At Reading, the guard and a person in plain clothes
looked into our carriage.
" ' You have the ticket, my love,' said the young man
blandly, and looking at me as though he were my father.
" ' Never mind, sir ; we don't want them,' said the offi-
cial, and he withdrew with his companion.
" ' I shall now leave you, madam,' observed my fellow-
traveller, as soon as the coast was clear. ' By your kind
and courageous conduct, you have saved my life, and
perhaps even your own.'
310 ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
" In another minute he was gone, and the train was in
motion. Not till the next morning did I learn from the
papers, that the gentleman on whom I had operated as
hair-cutter, had committed forgery to an enormous
amount, in London, a few hours before I met him, and
that he had been tracked into the express car at Pad-
dington. Also, that, although the telegraph had been
put in motion and described him accurately at Read-
ing, when the train was searched, he was nowhere to be
found."
As the Sabbath is a living subject of speculation and
thought among us, it should be recorded here, that Sab-
bath-keeping pays. All honor to the Pennsylvania Cen-
tral Railway Company, in the attempt of its directors to
give its employes the blessings of the Sabbath.
We left Cincinnati on Saturday morning for a rapid
journey to New York, and return. Before midnight on
Saturday, Altoona was reached, and there we were to
rest on the Sabbath-day, according to the command-
ment. This is the city where locomotives keep Sabbath
where freight trains rest on the Lord's day, and, as a
consequence, where engineers, and brakemen, and rail-
road hands of all grades, are both permitted and encour-
aged to enjoy Sabbath repose and its needful relaxation.
It is as grateful a feeling as it is strange, to awake on
a Sunday morning in quietness scarcely a sound stirring
amid a population of twelve thousand, who all the
week are driving the immense work of the Pennsylvania
Central, or hurrying in attendance on trains which pass
every few minutes, both day and night. On Sunday the
laboring air is still ; those terrible shrieks and whistles of
locomotives, which tear the atmosphere to pieces all the
week, are hushed. There is no roar of trains, no roll
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
3"
of engines, no groaning of escaped steam. The Sabbath
stillness is scarcely broken, except by Sabbath bells.
One passenger train passes, I believe, each way in the
early morning and in the evening ; but we saw no freight
trains moving. We counted thirteen freight trains stand-
ing on the tracks in front of the Logan House.
The result of this policy is according to God's law
and promise, but, of course, equally according to a nat-
ural law. Workmen of a higher moral calibre are se-
cured. The men are faithful, have more physical endur-
ance, and more spirit than when their powers are over-
taxed by seven days' labor in every week. An accident
on this road is very rare ; and the profits are rolling up
by millions. It is not my purpose to encourage people
to keep the Lord's day because of the profit it brings, al-
though there is no question about it. God's word never
has failed, and never will. His sanction of Sabbath ob-
servance is merely an interpretation of an invariable
natural law. But all that I desire is to put the facts side
by side. Railroad men can decide for themselves how
nearly they are related as cause and effect.
My Diary would be incomplete without a brief sketch
of the Railway Hog ; the small-souled, selfish brute, who
pays grudgingly for one seat, and strains his wits to hold
two. " This seat is taken, sir," tells his story. My par-
ticular hog wore a plug hat with a genuine Boston gloss,
and enamelled shirt, with closely cropped, iron-gray beard.
I know his kind. He is an eminently respectable beast,
who always pays his debts promptly, takes an interest in
Sunday-schools, administrates his dead brother's children
out of their patrimony, is the president of joint-stock
companies, and has biographical eulogies published in the
papers when he finally kicks the bucket. I knew the
312 ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
hog lied when he said, " This seat is taken, sir," and
watched him to see how many times he would reproduce
the falsehood. The coach was rather full, and, would
you believe it, that miserable hog told sixteen separate
and distinct lies in order to gratify his mean selfishness.
Enough to sink a healthier soul to perdition. He varied
the formula ; one time it was a wave of the hand and
look to the rear of the car, to indicate that the holder of
the seat had gone for a drink of water and would be back
soon.
When questioned another time, by a timid, mild-man-
nered passenger, he replied by a stolid stare, and then
spreading himself a little wider, he resumed the perusal
of his newspaper. I was tempted to crawl behind him,
and say in his ear, "You're an awful liar;" but my re-
venge came by and by.
A big, red-faced two-hundred-pounder, in a dirty linen
coat, came in at a way-station. He was sweaty to a
fearful degree. His feet smelt like a valerianate of am-
monia and rotten fish, and his breath was a hot, stinking
sirocco, based on bad whiskey and onions. This fiery
and fragrant behemoth preferred to settle himself in the
seat that was taken. " This seat is " began the hog.
"Well, I guess I'll take it till the other fellow comes," re-
turned the sweet-stinking heavy-weight, and down he
plumped, partially crushing the hog in his descent. The
latter frowned and began to bluster, but the red-faced
ruffian soon took that out of him with a threat to swallow
him whole to chaw him up and spit him out to pitch
him out of the window to go through him like a dose of
salts, and to make various dispositions of him in case he
didn't simmer down. Our porcine friend simmered, and
then the barbarian grew good-humored. He told funny
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
313
anecdotes and poked the hog in the ribs. He wanted
to know where he came from and where he was going.
He spat quarts of tobacco juice across him out of the
window, spattering his shirt-front, between his boots and
all around. He offered him a " chaw," every time he
took out his plug of navy. The hog perspired freely,
and shivered with disgust. Finally he crawled out and
stood up for forty miles, until another seat was vacant.
We were on the Overland train, bound for San Fran-
cisco, with Littlejohn as conductor. Among the passen-
gers was a young man, possessed of a judicious spirit of
economy and a pardonable share of vanity. The judici-
ous economy was made manifest to the other occupants of
the car, by the fact that the young man wore plain cloth-
ing and a single Cheviot shirt, all the way from Chicago.
How the pardonable vanity became apparent, is where
the joke comes in. He had been to the East on a
visit, and the girl he left behind had been notified in ad-
vance of his approach, and in company with a few other
friends, was to meet him at Niles station.
Visions of rapture floated through his brain, and seat-
ing himself in a secluded corner of the car, he poured
forth his spirit's gladness in a rush of melody, somewhat
as thus :
" Home again, home again,
From a foh-hoh-reign shore :
And oh ! it fills my so-o-ul with joy,
To me-he-eat my friends once more."
Suddenly he hushed his notes of joy, and reached for-
ward for his carpet-bag.
The appalling idea flashed across his mind that the
shirt which had done him so much good service which
14
3H
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
had clung to him during the toilsome journey across two
thousand miles of mountain, plain, and desert was not
exactly the thing to appear in when one wished to inten-
sify an already good impression. It certainly wouldn't
be the clean thing, he said to himself it wouldn't be
justice to the shirt. So he resolved to change. But
how? The car contained several lady passengers, and 1
they watched everything that was going on around them,
with an assiduity that did honor to the sex. "Ah! ha !
str-rr-fategy, my boy ! " said this resolute young man unto
himself. " The tunnel we are approaching the tunnel.
With good management I can do the deed in the long
tunnel just beyond Sunol;" and with a heavenly smile
upon his manly features he gracefully lifted his carpet-
bag from the floor, unlocked it, and drew forth a snowy
shirt, with nice frilled bosom. Then from another recess
he drew a little packet containing a pair of handsome
sleeve-buttons and a set of studs, which were quickly ad-
justed in their proper places. Casting a careful glance
from the window, he saw that the train was not far from
the tunnel where the metamorphosis was to take place,
and so he turned his back upon the other passengers, and
began to loosen sundry buttons in short, prepared to
shuck himself. Presently the eventful moment came.
The iron horse plunged into the dark recesses of the tun-
nel, and the car was shrouded in impenetrable darkness.
Presently a ray of light gleamed in fantastic shapes along
the rugged wall of the tunnel, and by its faint glimmer a
struggling figure was discernible in the direction of the
young man's seat. As the light became stronger, its gy-
rations grew more frantic. Its great long arms, incased
in white, thrashed wildly about as though in the agony of
despair ; and finally when, with a shriek of joy, the engine
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL. 3 \ 5
dashed out into the dazzling sunlight, it sank down into
its seat, apparently crushed with mortification and cha-
grin.
The ladies screamed with terror, and hid their blushes
at the unusual apparition. Strong men crushed their
handkerchiefs into their mouths, and nearly choked with
emotion. The figure reclined motionless upon the soft
cushion, until some one with more courage than the rest
advanced to ascertain who and what it was. Finally the
terrible truth was revealed. The white covering was
lifted, and from beneath appeared the features of our
young friend, clothed with carnation's richest hue. The
mystery was soon explained. He had gotten the Cheviot
off, but alas ! in his hurry and excitement he had forgot-
ten to undo the collar fastening of the elegant white-
frilled front. Horror ! it would not go over his head !
On my way from Providence to Boston I came across
what struck me as a very singular genius. This was a
stout, black-whiskered man who sat immediately in front
of me, and who indulged from time to time in the most
singular manoeuvres. Every now and then, he would
get up and hurry away to the narrow passage which leads
to the door in these drawing-room cars, and when he
thought himself secure from observation, would fall to
laughing in the most violent manner, and continue the
healthful exercise until his face was as red as a lobster.
As we neared Boston, these demonstrations increased in
violence, save that the stranger no longer ran away to
laugh, but kept his seat, and chuckled away to himself,
with his chin down deep in his shirt collar.
But the changes those portmanteaus underwent ! He
moved them there, here, everywhere ; he put them beside
him, in front of him, and beneath. He was evidently
316 ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
getting ready to leave, but as we were yet 25 miles from
Boston, the idea of such early preparations was ridicu-
lous. If we had entered the city then, the mystery would
have remained unsolved, but the stranger at last became
so excited, that he could keep his seat no longer. Some
one must help him, and as I was the nearest, he selected
me. Suddenly turning, as if I had asked a question, he
said, rocking himself to and fro in his chair, and slapping
his legs
" Been gone three years ! Yes, been in Europe.
Folks don't expect me for six months yet, but I got
through and started ! I telegraphed them at the last sta-
tion ; they've got it by this time."
As he said this, he changed the portmanteau on his
left to the right, and the one on the right to the left again.
" Got a wife ? " said I.
" Yes, and three children." Then he got up and folded
his overcoat anew, and hung it over the back of the seat.
" You are pretty nervous over the matter, ain't you ? "
I said, watching his fidgety movements.
" Well, I should think so," he replied ; " I hain't slept
soundly for a week. And do you know," he went on,
glancing around at the passengers and speaking in a low
tone, " I'm almost certain the train will run off the track
and break my neck, before I get to Boston. Well, the fact
is, I've had too much good luck for one man lately. The
thing can't last ; 'taint natural that it should, you know.
I've watched it. First it rains, then it shines, then it
rains again. It rains as hard, you think it's never' going
to stop ; then it shines so bright, you think it's always
going to shine ; and just as you're settled to either belief,
you are knocked over by a change, to show you that you
know nothing about it at all."
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL. 31 j
" Well, according to this philosophy," said I, " you will
continue to have sunshine, because you are expecting a
storm ! "
"It's curious," he replied, "but the only thing that
makes me think I'll get through safe is, because I think I
won't."
" Well, that is curious," I rejoined.
" Yes," he replied, " I'm a machinist made a discov-
ery nobody believed in it spent all my money try-
ing to bring it out mortgaged my home all went.
Everybody laughed at me everybody but my wife
spunky little woman said she would work her fingers off
before I should give it up. Went to England no better
there came within an ace of jumping off London Bridge.
Went into a shop to earn money enough to come home
with ; there I met the man I wanted. To make a long
story short, I've brought ^30,000 with me, and the best
of it is, she don't know anything about it. I've fooled
her so often, and disappointed her so much, that I just
concluded I would say nothing about this. When I got
my money, though, you better believe I struck a bee-line
for home."
" And now you will make her happy ? " said I.
" Happy !" he replied ; " why, you don'tknow anything
about it. She worked like a dog while I have been gone,
trying to support herself and the children decently. They
paid her thirteen cents apiece for making coarse shirts,
and that's the way she'd live half the time. She'll come
down there to meet me in a gingham dress and a shawl
a hundred years old, and she'll think she's dressed up. Oh
she won't have no clothes after this ; oh no, I guess not."
And with these words, which implied that his wife's ward-
robe would soon rival Queen Victoria's, the stranger tore
318 ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
down the passage-way again, and getting in his old cor-
ner, where he thought himself out of sight, went through
the strangest pantomime ; laughing, putting his mouth in-
to the drollest shapes, and then swinging himself back
and forth in the limited space, as if he were walking down
Broadway, a full-rigged metropolitan belle.
And so on, until we rolled into the depot, and I placed
myself on the other car, opposite the stranger, who, with
a portmanteau in each hand, had descended on the lower
step, ready to jump to the platform. I looked from his
face to the faces of the people below us, but saw no sign
of recognition. Suddenly he cried, " There they are ! "
and laughed outright, but in an hysterical sort of a way,
as he looked over the crowd. I followed his eye, and
saw some distance back a little woman in a faded dress
and well-worn hat. She was crowded out, as it were,
shouldered away, by the well-dressed and elbowing throng.
As she glanced rapidly from window to window, as the
coaches glided in, the face was almost painful in its in-
tense, but hopeless expression.
She had not yet seen the stranger, but in a moment
after she caught his eye, and in another instant he had
jumped to the platform, with his two portmanteaus, and
making a hole in the crowd, pushing one here and there,
and running one of his bundles plump into the perspec-
tive of a very fat old gentleman in spectacles, he rushed
toward the place where she was standing. I think I never
saw a face assume so many different expressions in as
short a time, as did that of the little woman while her
busband was on his way to her. She was not to say
handsome, but somehow I felt a big lump rise in my throat
as I watched her. She was trying to laugh, but God
bless her ! how completely she failed in the attempt. Her
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
319
mouth got into position ; but it never moved after that,
save to draw down the corners and quiver, while she
blinked her eyes so fast, that I suspect she only caught
glimpses of the broad-shouldered fellow who elbowed his
way toward her. And then, as he drew close, and drop-
ped those everlasting portmanteaus, she just turned com-
pletely around with her back toward him, and covered
her face with her hands. The strong man then gathered
her up as though she had been a baby, and held her to his
breast.
There were enough gaping at them, Heaven knows,
and for a moment I turned my eyes away. Then I saw
two boys in threadbare roundabouts standing near, wip-
ing their eyes and noses on their little coat-sleeves, and
bursting out anew at every fresh demonstration on the
part of their mother. When I looked at the stranger
again, he had drawn his hat down over his eyes. But
the wife was looking up at him, and it seemed that the
pent-up tears of those weary months of waiting were
streaming through her eyelids.
I had occasion to make a hurried professional trip to
the next city on our line. There had been an accident
up north somewhere, a broken engine, if I remember
correctly, so that when the train arrived at our station
behind time, there were few seats for the accommodation
of the crowd that awaited its arrival. Then followed,
what is witnessed in no other country, a grand American
rush !
The experienced traveller never rushes ; so I found
myself obliged to take a back seat ; that uncomfortable
little affair near the door, originally devised for the bewil-
dered foreigner, unused to travel. It was the first time
that I had occupied a back seat in all my travels, and I
320
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
found that, after all, it was not without its advantages.
From this back window I obtained a wide, new outlook
into the world. Away behind, my native mountains,
shifting into new beauty of shape, as the track twisted
this way and that. There was a fascination in watching
this track unroll itself from beneath the speeding cars,
and spreading away in the distance. Now into the deep
gorge, then out over high embankments, through the
arches of bridges, over rivers and streams, and here
almost touching the corner of the old farm-house, built
before railroads were thought of at all.
Then the after-glimpses of the people we had just left
bits of human nature, entirely lost by the occupants
of the front seats. The young man who kissed his hand
from the back platform, and the girl he left behind him
waving her 'kerchief in response. The old gentleman
getting slowly into his empty wagon, gazing wistfully
after the train, that was whirling his only son off to the
greedy West The young mother with a child in her
arms, whose lips were still moist with the father's parting
kiss. The lazy loungers at the depot, picking up their
feet and sauntering off; the men ploughing in the fields ;
the women hanging out clothes; the laborers on the
track, leaning on their shovels, until we passed ; run-
away horses, sobering down ; all this had escaped me
before, and no doubt many another traveller had treated
the same commonplace affairs with silent contempt.
" So like life," said my better self; "so we come and
go. A little stir, a little brief importance, then we are
gone ; and the world goes on just the same."
You notice from the back seat how everything seems
to catch the infection of hurry from the train. The dead
leaves whirl and leap in the air ; the very sand flies on
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
321
the breeze ; the sober trees in the wild old woods wave
and toss their branches, as if anxious to be off their
arms stretched out imploringly, saying, " Take us from
this silence and solitude out into the busy, hurrying
world, to which you go ! "
Bringing your eyes and your thoughts back into the
crowded car, you pity the gayly-dressed young man with
the bloated face, in one of the best front seats on the
shady side; how intently he looks out of the window,
whenever a woman enters from a way-station ; and the
fat old gentleman near by, who secures the same end, by
burying his face in his newspaper. And the portly gen-
tleman, raising the window at regular intervals, to squirt
filthy tobacco juice at the changing scene without. How
much they were losing, I thought ! All this beautiful,
changing scene of life, and beauty, and human nature,
going on around them, and they, shut up in their own
selfish selves, none the wiser or better for it.
Thinking of all I had been through during these years
of travel, I wondered if the people who take the back
seat in life have not the best of it, after all. The peo-
ple who are not in a fret or a hurry ; ready to push down
and trample upon their fellow-travellers, in order to
secure the best positions and places ; the first notice the
front seats generally. The people who do not expect
much, seldom think of themselves, and are not eager to
thrust themselves forward. That there is a deal of se-
renity always attendant on the back seat ; a leisure from
one's self, that gives abundant room for much outside
living. The journey is so short, too, and so swift, that
really the seat one occupies is of but little consequence.
And looking again, one finds such a vast material about
him for love and society and friendship, which giving him
14*
322
ANECDOTES AND INCIDENTS OF THE RAIL.
no heed, leaves him at his journey's end. Material for
life-long friends, if the conductor would only make one
acquainted ; but the travelling tricks of bad women and
worse men have made us suspicious of each other, until
one can scarcely offer a common civility to a lady upon
the cars, without being met with a look of suspicion or
an expression of alarm. But I see from the back seat
faces before me of culture and refinement ; countenances
expressive of -sympathy and kindness ; interesting and
entertaining people, who may be my " long lost brothers
and sisters," but between whom and myself no word
or sign of recognition will ever pass. Each has his own
world and a separate path, all reaching, however, to the
great depot Beyond.
The people in the back seat reach the journey's end
just as soon, and once there, no one asks how they came.
Let us be good-natured, unselfish, and helpful to our fel-
low-passengers, and possess our souls in peace.
XXIX
THE DEAF COVE.
A detective's story.
MYSTERIOUS murder had been committed,
and a large reward offered for the capture of
the guilty parties. Alarmed at the extraor-
dinary excitement which followed, disreputable
and suspicious characters of all kinds fled the city. De-
tectives were sent in all directions, and being an old
member of the force, I received especial instructions from
Pinkerton, and one wet November evening, was set down
at the Great Western Railway depot, to await the start-
ing of the night express. My luggage consisted of a
single travelling-bag, and getting a check for that, I had
nothing to do but stroll about until the train should be
made up.
I have a natural dislike for the waiting-room at a rail-
way station, so lighting a cigar, I walked the platform
outside, watching the faces of those who were already
going aboard the train to secure good seats. There was
the usual bustle of a crowded depot on this occasion.
The wet had driven all the apple-women and pea-nut
324
THE DEAF COVE.
venders inside, who were vociferously shouting the merits
of their wares to every customer. Hackmen were blus-
tering, as they always are on rainy nights, and porters were
swearing, as only porters can. The engineer and fire-
man were getting into their oil-clothes and glazed caps,
and the sharp-voiced bell was speaking out its warning to
delinquents.
I became interested at once in two strangers who were
evidently to be my fellow-travellers. I need not explain
why, after seeing them, I failed to look at any others.
They were walking back and forth like myself, apparently
waiting for the conductor's " all aboard," before giving up
their liberty. An elderly gentleman and a young girl
at least, the iron-gray hair of the one, and the silken
brown curls of the other said as much. I am not good
at a yarn, or I would have said before, that I was still a
young man, and had been often selected to work up
female cases, on account of my good looks and gentle-
manly manners.
Under the pretence of examining the time-table, I
stopped short, and got a very good view of both counte-
nances. The gentleman was sixty or thereabouts, with a
seamed, weather-beaten face, like that of one who has
followed the seas. The girl I cannot describe as she
appeared to me then. An ordinary observer would have
seen a fair, oval face, like the faces of those born under
southern skies. She smiled at something her companion
was saying, revealing teeth as white as pearls. If I have
a weakness for any particular charm, it is for perfect
teeth. Without such a charm, no woman can be lovely.
Her hands were ungloved, and upon the left forefinger
sparkled and burned like fire a single diamond set in gold.
My theory of love at first sight came to be a real thing
THE DEAF COVE.
325
at the moment I beheld her face. I felt the assurance in
every nerve the assurance which has never left me, from
that day to this. The couple passed on before me again,
and I- followed them, taking note of every minute detail.
The crimson robes that encircled the girl became sacred
to me. I wondered that I had never before known what
constituted the acme of perfection in a woman's dress.
In turning back for the tenth time in my promenade, I
noticed one person whose appearance at once arrested
my official gaze. A tall, slightly stooping man, wrapped
in a heavy cloak of a military pattern. His gait was that
of a lithe, active individual of thirty ; but his gray hair,
and the cane on which he leaned, or pretended to lean,
gave him an elderly appearance. I was unable to get a
fair view of his face, but it was plain that the gleam of
the cold gray eye furtive, yet alert, like that of a grey-
hound was not the eye of an infirm old man. In short,
the appearance of age was a disguise assumed for some
purpose, a discovery that recalled the business in hand.
While setting my detective wits to work, my eye singled
out another individual, who excited my curiosity even
more than the first. This person was leaning against a
peanut stand, crunching the filberts the boy was cracking
for him, and like myself, perhaps, taking note of those
around him. He was short, thick-set, and muscular.
He wore a suit of plain black, a white neck-cloth, and
carried a book under his arm. I got behind him and
read its title : " Barnes' Notes on the Gospel of St. Paul."
Was he a clergyman ? I asked my professional self
then took a second look. His face was red, as though
the parish in his charge had stocked the cellar of the par-
sonage with generous wine. His features were coarse
and repulsive, so far as I could see, for the lower part of
326 THE DEAF COVE.
his physiognomy was entirely concealed in a heavy growth
of reddish-gray beard. I could form no opinion of his
eyes, for they were sheltered behind green glasses with
very respectable gold frames.
It occurred to me in a moment that there was some
sort of a collusion between these two men, though why I
should indulge this fancy I could not determine. Even
with the horrible murder still fresh in my memory, and a
city at my back searching all its avenues for the murderers,
I did not for a moment imagine that either of these mild-
mannered and unsuspicious persons were in any way
connected with that bloody affair. Neither can I explain
why, now. It was one of those psychological phenomena
which occasionally occur to the most matter-of-fact of
men, and wholly inexplicable through the medium of
language.
I felt a little nettled with myself for observing either
of these men, when I might look at the young girl in-
stead. Presently the last bell sounded, and my old gen-
tleman assisted the young girl to a carriage. I sprang
after them, determined if possible to keep near her ; but
to my chagrin I found that every seat in that car was oc-
cupied. I went to the next one behind, with no better
luck.
The next carriage I entered was a compartment car,
at the rear of the train, I judged. The first compartment
was empty ; and congratulating myself on that circum-
stance, I took a comfortable position, with my feet on
the next seat, and resigned myself to dreams of her, and,
perhaps, by and by, a little sleep. For the train was ex-
press to Beaunier I give only fictitious names and I
should not be troubled for my ticket or check until just
before reaching there.
THE DEAF COVE.
327
Just as the train had got under way, and I was indulg-
ing in a rapturous waking dream of those hazel eyes I
had seen beneath that scarlet feather, the door of my re-
treat was opened, somewhat cautiously, it appeared to
me, and the man I had seen at the depot, in the military
cloak, looked in.
I felt insufferably annoyed, for I concluded he was
hunting for a seat, and I did not care to have my pleasant
thoughts disturbed by his conversation. A sudden idea
came into my head. I would feign deafness, and thus
be spared the infliction of being obliged to keep up a
civil show of sociability. He addressed me in a manner
which was polite and gentlemanly.
" Do you object to company, sir ? "
" Eh ! " said I, in a loud voice, and putting my hand
to my ear in the way most deaf persons have.
I found the man looked relieved, but it might have
been only a fancy.
He repeated the question in a tone so loud, that I
wondered if the people in the next car would not hear
it and take alarm.
I shook my head in a dissatisfied way, took a slip of
paper and pencil from my pocket, and gave them to him.
" Write," said I.
He wrote the question in a bold, free hand.
" Do you object to having company, sir ?"
"Certainly not," I replied, after reading it, though I
told as arrant a falsehood as I was capable of in two words.
He stepped to the door, and spoke to some one out-
side. I heard the words distinctly.
" Come in, Dick. Thar's only one fellow here, and
he's as deaf as the . He wouldn't hear Gabriel's
trumpet if it should sound this moment."
328
THE DEAF COVE.
Dick stepped inside, and, as I had fully expected, he
proved to be the short, thick-set clerical gentleman I
had seen at the peanut stand. He took a survey of me
through his spectacles.
"Humph!" said he, "rather an intelligent-looking
chap. Are you sure he's deaf ?"
" Try him, and see," responded the other.
" I hope we do not incommode you, sir ? " said he, in a
tone which seemed to me a sort of cross between a
steam-whistle and a clap of August thunder.
I replied by giving him my pencil and paper.
He looked satisfied, and wrote rapidly
" Let us becorne acquainted. My companion is T)r.
Severance, of Baltimore, and I am the Rev. John Smith,
of the same place."
I read the lines, and took from my pocket a printed
card, of which I always carried a varied assortment. He
took it and read it aloud with an amused twinkle creep-
ing about the wrinkles at the corners of his ambushed eyes :
JOHN D. SMITH,
DEALER IN DRY GOODS AND EMBROIDERIES,
Galesburg, Ills.
Dr. Smith laughed, as his friend remarked, " Your
namesake, my Rev. John ! "
"Another John Smith ! by Jupiter ! " cried the reverend
gentleman. " If I was the genuine and original John
Smith, I'd have my name patented, and every pretender
should be prosecuted according to law ! " and then he
wrote a line or two for my perusal, to the effect that he
was happy to meet me, and that he deeply regretted my
infirmity, because it would deprive him of the great
pleasure of my conversation.
THE DEAF COVE. 329
After this complimentary courtesy they left me to
myself, and I subsided into my corner of the seat, drew
my hat over my eyes, and simulated sleep.
" It's deuced lucky," said the man called Dick, " that
this car happens to be so nearly empty; Providence
favors us. That is clerical language, isn't it?" with a
loud ha, ha ! at his irreverent wit.
" Decidedly lucky," responded the other. " That chap
is of no. more consequence than a dead log. But are
you quite sure that Starkey will not fail us ? "
" Sure ? Yes, sir ! as sure as that we are here. He
knows Dick Turner too well, to trifle in a matter of this
kind. He stands in fear of his fate," and the villain sig-
nificantly touched the butt end of a pistol which pro-
truded from an inner breast-pocket.
"It is a ticklish undertaking," said the other; "one,
the plan of which does you infinite credit as a prince in
your profession. You ought to be prime minister to his
Satanic Majesty in the next world."
" Well, when I am," replied Dick, "I'll be sure to
speak a word to his highness in favor of my friend Jack
Mortlan, alias Dr. Severance."
"Don't waste words in compliments, Dick. Let me
be sure that I fully understand the plan."
" Certainly, I will detail it to you if you like, though I
thought you were thoroughly posted. The facts in the
case are these. Old Capt. Van Luce has been master
of a privateer or, what amounts to the same thing
has served his country gloriously in this great and wicked
rebellion."
"Nonsense! don't go into the spread-eagle style.
Speak English ! " responded Jack, testily.
"Anything to oblige. The old gentleman was rich
33Q
THE DEAF COVE.
before the war, he is richer now, and what is more to the
point, he is going to his home in B , and has his
prize-money, a cool hundred thousand, in his possession.
Also, he has his daughter, and she having been on a visit
to New York, has her diamonds, which are worth fifty
thousand more, among her luggage. The entire plunder
is contained in the black-leather valise that is stowed
away at this moment under the seat the father and
daughter occupy, whar he can keep his foot on it, and
be ready to seize upon it at a moment's notice. By
Jove, Jack ! the girl is a beauty ! I don't wonder you
feel sore over the way things have turned out! Didn't
she look handsome in that black-velvet hat, with the
scarlet feather in it, and that crimson shawl over her
shoulders ? Gad ! Florence Van Luce is a splendid-
looking woman, and she will be quite handsome enough
without diamonds."
You may well believe that I could hardly keep from
starting to my feet, as I listened to this conversation ;
but, by an effort, I controlled myself to hear what more
might be said.
" It was a cruel hit for you, Jack, when she failed to
see your manifold attractions, and mittened you as coolly
as she would have exterminated a troublesome mos-
quito."
"Hush!" said the other, fiercely, "you shall not jest
upon that subject ! Her rejection made a demon of me !
Before that I was only a fast young man, with as many
virtues, and no more vices than the average ; but ever
since I have been a fiend ! She might have been my
salvation you needn't sneer, Dick Turner but instead
she has been my ruin. And yet I'll do her the justice to
say, that she tried to avoid me always; and when she
THE DEAF COVE.
331
rejected my love she was kind. Kind ! my God ! how I
hated her, because I thought pity made her kind ! I tell
you, Dick, no woman who thoroughly knows Jack Mort-
lan will ever dare his hatred with impunity ! I loved her
once, now I hate her ! "
" Softly, softly, Jack. What if yonder blockhead should
wake up ? He'd see from the expression of your face
that something was agog. Let the girl go ! such as her
are not for you and me. And yet we were both gentlemen
once ! But never mind ! We will be again, when the
old man's money is ours ! "
" You have selected Hanly as the place, I understand ? "
" Yes ; there could not be a better place for such an
accident (?) if it had been made to order. This train is
express to Beaunier the only stoppage it makes is at
Tylerville, twenty-five miles beyond Hanly, for wood and
water. Just beyond Hanly village there is a long cut,
and the train runs in on a curve. It is two miles from
the covered river bridge. The cut is always dark ; it will
be darker still to-night, and the lamps won't light the
track a rod ahead, the fog is so thick. In the middle
of this cut, ten lengths of the rail will be taken up when
the whistle for Hanly village is heard. Starkey is there
now, I'll warrant ye, ready to operate the moment he
hears the whistle. Of course, there will be an accident,
and some people will be killed, and some will be hurt ;
but that's not our look-out. If people want to be out of
danger, let 'em keep out of railway trains particularly
those that are express ! But the cream of the joke, and
decidedly the wittiest thing in the whole plan is this : you
and I shall run no risk from the smash ; for, hark ye !
we are in the very hindmost car ; and just as we pass
Hanly village I shall take the liberty of unshackling this
332 THE DEAF COVE.
car from the train ; and as it has a brake of its own, we
shall manage to run quite up to the scene of the catas-
trophe, and be there ready to lend our assistance, which
will be rendered by seizing on old Van Luce's black
valise, and any other valuables which may be lying around
loose. I have marked just the position of the old fellow
in the car he's a careful traveller just exactly in the
middle, fourth car from this ; and if he's not killed, it will
be very easy to snatch the valise and light out. Starkey
is to have a carriage and horses waiting behind the hill
for us ; and in two hours we shall be on board the L
train, speeding back to New York. How d'ye like the
scheme, my friend ? "
" You are a trump," responded Jack, " only I wish I
was sure that Florence would not be hurt. Much as I
hate her, I am not sunk so low as to feel just right about
putting a woman in danger."
"Tush ! don't be spooney. Take a drink of this, and
it will set you all right."
My blood was fairly on fire. A hundred vague plans
flitted through my brain, among the most tempting of
which was the desire to take my revolver from my pocket,
and shoot the villains dead where they sat. But they
were armed and desperate ; and besides, the men of the
train would take me for a madman, if I communicated
even the substance of the story I had heard. So, as
there was yet some seventy miles between us and Hanly,
I sat still and awaited further developments.
"What if our interesting companion should take ex-
ception to our uncoupling the car?" '
" Pshaw ! He sleeps like a top. If he wasn't, there's
nothing strange about a couple of passengers going out to
smoke."
THE DEAF COVE.
333
Meanwhile, the train rushed on through the darkness ;
and even now I sometimes awake with a start on stormy-
nights the grinding roar of the wheels on the rails seem-
ing yet to ring in my ears, just as I heard it that night,
when every revolution brought us nearer and nearer to
doom.
"Come, come, Jack," said Turner, "let's go out into
the air and have a smoke. I'll just turn the key on this
chap, to be sure in case he has been shamming."
The two men went out, and I was a prisoner !
The brain works quickly in such moments, if it works
at all, and very soon I had formed a plan by which I
hoped to save the train. Much upon the road upon pe-
culiar duty, I had become familiar with the interpretation
of the locomotive's whistles; and just at this moment the
engine shrieked out on the thick night air. Two sharp,
quick cries, and then a shrill, prolonged scream. We
had made unusually good time, and now Bellevue was
distant only twenty-two miles ! Not to be mistaken, I
took out my note-book. Yes, I was right. Two quick
whistles and a prolonged one meant a station ; and my
time-table gave the distance and the name. How fortu-
nate, too, that I knew the road so well !
I had not then a moment to lose. Putting my hand
on my revolver, lest my fiendish fellow-travellers should
suddenly return, I stole to the rear door of the car, only
to find it locked ! Probably they had prepared this car
before leaving the depot. But I was not to be thus
thwarted. The windows were wide, and with one blow
of my heavy boot, I crashed both glass and sash, and
climbed through. There was no foothold outside, save
the iron brace which ran around the car. Standing upon
this, and clinging to the window-frame, I looked out
334
THE DEAF COVE.
through the gloom. It was a fearful night ; a thick mist
was falling, and the wind felt like the breath of a tomb.
A few rods from Bellevue, the line crossed a deep
though narrow river, upon a " pile bridge." The signal
of " all right" at this bridge was three lights, two red and
one green. Leaning out as far as I dared, I soon caught
the gleam of the lights, and almost simultaneously, we were
thundering over the bridge. Uttering a brief but heart-
felt prayer to God, I let go my hold and leaped for-
ward !
An intolerable sense of suffocation, succeeded by a
coldness like ice ; and then I seemed to sink down to
unfathomable depths. Presently I rose to the surface of
the water, and struck out for the shore. I was very
near it, and almost instantly my feet touched the bottom.
Breathless and dripping as I was, I ran with all speed to
the station-house, rushed into the telegraph office there,
and found the operator dozing in his chair. He stared
at me in blank dismay. Telegraph instantly, I exclaimed,
to stop the train at Hanly village. Tell them to arrest
two men who are travelling in the rear car. One is tall,
with a slight stoop, gray hair, and lightish eyes. The
other short, thick-set, red hair and whiskers. I repeated
this rapidly, at the same time writing it down.
Still the man stared at me.
" I do not understand," he said. " This line is only
used by the train despatchers and officers of the road, from
whom all orders must be received. I have no authority
to stop trains."
" There is danger ahead," I almost screamed. " Be-
yond Hanly village the track is up. Send the message
instantly."
" I cannot, sir ; it is against orders, but I will communi-
THE DEAF COVE.
335
cate with headquarters. In the meantime, let me ask,
-are you mad or drunk ? "
" But the message ? " I yelled.
"The message has been sent from headquarters, and
the despatcher orders the express stopped at Hanly vil-,
lage. Also the arrest of the parties with yourself. If you
are a lunatic, as I suppose, they will take you all to-
gether."
I steadied my voice.
" I beg your pardon, sir, for behaving in such an un-
heard of, and perhaps rude manner. But I dared not
stop to explain until you had sent the message. God
grant it may be in time ! " And as briefly as might be,
I made the amazed operator acquainted with what the
reader already knows.
"We will go on to Hanly village at once," he said.
" I am anxious for the dmotiment ; and besides, it will be
necessary that you should be there to accuse these cow-
ardly rascals."
He put a bottle of wine and some glasses on the table,
and told me to make myself at home ; and though I am
not much of a "wine-bibber," I think the two glasses I
took that night were a benefit to me ; for I was so nearly
distracted with fear in regard to the train that contained
Florence Van Luce, that I needed something to steady
my overstrung nerves.
The operator, whose name was Morgan, now left me,
while he went out to arouse the road-master to get his
permission to have a locomotive "fixed up" to take us
to Hanly. He returned in fifteen minutes to say that all
was in readiness. The road-master accompanied us, and
I venture to say, none of us ever travelled at the rate of
speed we made that night. Morgan ventured to remon-
336 THE DEAF COVE.
strate with the engineer, but he looked admiringly at the
high pressure of steam registered by the guage, and re-
plied with something like triumph
" She can stan' it, sir ! Gad ! there aint a machine
on the road that can run with old Forty-two."
At last we saw the signal light of Hanly station, and
the " Forty-two " uttered a shrill cry to notify the station
people of our approach. In a moment three sharp whis-
tles in quick succession were returned.
" That's the Twenty-four" said our engineer. " Should
know that whistle among a thousand and the Twenty-
four's the machine that allers draws the night express.
They're pulled up at Hanly village, you may bet your
life on that."
I remember that I put my two hands together, and
said to myself, " Thank God ! thank God ! "
We drew up behind the express train, and alighting,
made our way to the depot. The utmost confusion pre-
vailed. Half the village, aroused*by so unusual a circum-
stance as the stoppage of the night express, had turned
out, and were gathered in little knots around the station,
discussing the singularity of the whole affair.
My whilom fellow-travellers were held in custody by
the railway police. Dick was inclined to bluster, and
protest his innocence of every real and imaginary sin that
ever was dreamed of; Jack was stolid and sullen, and
maintained a rigid silence.
As we entered the room, Dick was saying,
" What in the deuce are we stopped here for ? I'll
have satisfaction out of somebody for this ! Detained
like two criminals ! The Company's pockets shall smart
for it ! By whose authority was the train stopped ? Just
tell me that, will ye ? "
THE DEAF COVE.
337
"We received a telegram," said the station-agent.
" Keep cool, sir ; if you are innocent of the charge which
some party will bring against you, you will be set at
liberty."
" Who sent the telegram ? " demanded Dick, fiercely.
" I had that honor, sir," said I, pausing in front of him.
" By The deaf cove that pretended to be asleep
in the compartment-car ! By Jupiter ! he was shamming
I told you so, Jack ! "
" Is there a magistrate present ? " I inquired, looking
around on the sea of inquisitive, faces.
And an elderly gentleman, stepping out from the crowd,
announced himself qualified.
" I wish to be put upon oath," said I. " I deem it no
more than justice to myself that all the travellers by the
express should listen to my statement, that I may be ex-
onerated from blame in having been the means of bring-
ing their journey to so abrupt a termination for the pres-
ent."
And under oath, simply and briefly as might be, I gave
a narration of facts as the reader already knows them,
though I confess to skipping that portion touching the
love of Jack Mortlan for Florence Van Luce. I thought
the story just as complete without that.
Just as I had finished my statement, one of the mes-
sengers sent forward to look for the danger of which my
telegram had given intimation, returned. He was breath-
less and agitated, and announced the track torn up for
some lengths in the middle of Hanly "cut," and also the
discovery of a pair of horses and a carriage, secreted in a
clump of bushes a few yards from the line.
I had not the remotest idea of being made a hero, but
the people would insist on shaking hands with me, and
15
338 THE DEAF COVE.
thanking me for the service I had rendered ; and among
the warmest thanks of all were those of Capt. Van Luce.
And when he had said all he could think of, he called
his daughter to finish for him.
" Florence, my dear, come hither, and and hang it !
do the thing up as it ought to be done. Shiver my tim-
bers if I know what to say to the man who has saved my
life, and that of my darling ! This is my daughter, Flor-
ence, Mr. Mr. Well, I declare, I don't happen to
know your name."
"I beg your pardon. My name is simply Martin,
George Martin, and I reside in B "
Florence laid her dear little hand in mine and I took
it gladly enough, resisting with an effort the impulse of
my heart to take her to my bosom.
My wife, whose name is Florence, looks over my shoul-
der and says my story is done. Every one who has had
any romance in his life will guess the conclusion.
Dick and Jack were tried and condemned to imprison-
ment for life. Jack subsequently committed suicide in
his cell. Pinkerton, our chief, said it was the best case
I ever worked up, as it was the last
XXX.
THE HOTEL CLERK OF THE PERIOD.
A CONFIDENTIAL NOTE TO MARMADUKE MACOMBER, OP THE ST. JAMES.
Y Dear Duke : I am very glad to see you
again ; indeed the more so, since I have seen
nothing to compare with you in all my travels.
Nothing to equal the charms and grace of your
person, the perfection of those ambrosial curls, and the
extent and magnificence of your jewelry. Nothing to
approach that kingly air with which you deal out your
princely favors to the plebeians who beg and cringe at the
foot of your throne. True, I have met impostors and
pretenders, who, coming into the position by inheritance,
became selfish, giddy, and tyrannical by a too sudden as-
sumption of its vast power and influence. Imitations
abound, too, in monarchical countries, where a traveller
asking for accommodations is treated as an equal rather
than a mendicant ; where a vagabond, entering with
portmanteau in hand, is permitted to approach the Pres-
ence without a formal introduction.
I recall a glaring instance of this apostasy in France.
340 THE HOTEL CLERK OF THE PERIOD.
The keeper of a tav my dear Duke, I beg your pardon
the proprietor of the principal hotel in the Rue de
, really announced to the public, that his guests
would be welcomed with kindness and attention ! Think
of that, my friend, and condole with human depravity !
Fresh from America, I called to inspect the novelty. I
found there a ser your pardon again a gentleman of
plebeian birth behind the count that is to say, in- the
office who had just opened a stock of patience and
courtesy. He was in plain attire, and actually without a
jewel or other insignia of rank. I was even permitted to
converse with him, so far had he forgotten the dignity of
his position.
You, who know so well what belongs to the dignity of
a first-class serv as I should say clerk, would have
blushed with mortification at this prostitution of a noble
profession. He descended to the level of the citizen at
once. As the crowds rushed in to inspect his stock of
patience and courtesy, he spoke in humble tones, and
gave a ready and pleasant answer to every comer. What
surprised me more than all, was to see him descend from
what we in America recognize as a throne, and actually
mix with those low people, and attend in person to their
wants ! One instance, my dear Duke, I shall never for-
get. This was a not to say tidy gentleman, who called for
a front chamber on the second floor, and complaining of
fatigue, requested to be shown there at once. The
servant not answering the bell promptly, this clerk really
left his post, and accompanied the party to his very
door ! For impudence on the one hand, and conde-
scension on the other, I have never witnessed the like be-
fore or since.
But, my dear Duke, this is not all. I learned that in
THE HOTEL CLERK OF THE PERIOD.
341
that house, porters, waiters, and chambermaids were
treated as human beings men and women instead of
the outcasts we know them to be everywhere ; that this
clerk really regarded himself as a servant with the rest,
an employe on the same train, as we travellers would say.
He answered their questions with the same courtesy
and attention that was bestowed upon the wealthy pat-
rons of the house, and sent them upon errands with the
air of one who begged a favor, rather than exacted the
performance of a duty. I noticed, too, that he received
his " guests," as he styled them, with a desire to extend
them every accommodation, instead of giving them to
understand that he was the master and they the sup-
pliants. The modest tradesman who sought a night's
lodging, was as kindly received as the parties of the
respectable classes who swept in from carriages. Dis-
gusted with all this, I took occasion to assure him, that
in America his house would not last a day. He replied,
that hospitality should be impartial. That every man who
stopped with him once, should be treated with such
courtesy that he would remember it with gratitude, and
come again.
When I came over, my dear Duke, I was not surprised
to hear that this hotel was the first that the Communists
destroyed.
Is it any wonder, my dear Macomber, that I welcomed
the change upon my arrival last night? To see you
standing there, dressed in the height of fashion ; blazing
with brilliant jewelry, and moistened, as it were, with the
rarest exotics ; as calm and serene before that crowd of
noisy travellers, as a real Duke in his reception-chamber,
was to forget the French hireling and all his disgusting
surroundings. You were there to command as the Pa-
342
THE HOTEL CLERK OF THE PERIOD.
tron, not the servant of mankind. To give every one to
understand, that they are inferior beings, permitted to re-
ceive your patronage and never to question either its
quality, quantity, or mode of delivery.
As this crowd of hungry, soiled, and weary passengers
came in from the late trains, how you enjoyed the oppor-
tunity ! One old gentleman, evidently a thief in disguise,
peered at you through gold spectacles. I could see that
a consciousness of guilt caused him to approach you
with an abject and cowardly air. The low crowd moved
aside to give him entrance to your gracious presence.
" I am too old and feeble to go far, sir j will you give
me a room on a near floor ? "
To see you gaze over their heads as if you failed to
hear, with that princely air which is indeed charming,
and remark
" Sir Move on / "
I tell you, my dear Duke, that was a master-stroke of
genius ! And then, as question after question came from
the dastardly offenders, to have you answer all with that
ill- suppressed contempt, which is the highest charm of your
profession ! I tell you, sir (as I have a right to say to
any friend who attains to greatness in his calling), such
rare skill comes only of deep study and careful practice.
Courtesy, indeed ! A lot of miserable travellers ask-
ing for a nighf s lodging ? Do the hounds imagine that
the pittance they pay entitles them to more? Shall a
serv (that is to say, a gentleman of your parts, Mr.
Macomber) be forever bowing and scraping, and making
fine speeches to people whom he never expects to meet
again ?
Your power, my friend, is of a piece with that of the
railway conductor who has just brought us through.
THE HOTEL CLERK OF THE PERIOD.
343
The comfort of scores of your fellow-passengers on the
World's train is in your hands every day. You may
make yourself a valuable servant for we are servants all
and your house popular and profitable, if you will.
You are placed there to serve your guest with that for
which he is ready to pay, and it becomes you to see to it
that it comes to him from polite and willing hands.
Every traveller recognizes you at once. You may send
him away as a friend or an enemy, and every man has
his influence. Let it be your aim then, my friend, to
send down into his heart some pleasant memory of his
stay. Some kindly action a word or even a smile !
THE END.
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Hand-Books of Society.
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miss Muloch's Novels.
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Victor Hugo.
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Author "New Gospel ofPeace."
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