The Kenosha telegraph. [volume] (Kenosha, Wis.) 1860-1888, 1863-10-22
The Station-Naster at Lomgley,

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From "once Week"
81 am not an old man, you say? Well,you
are right there one is not usually considered
old at the age of forty-6ve. Why am [ SC
bald then? Ah friend, you may well ask
Men do not usually lose their hair SO early III
life; and my seal p was polished i'll this shin
ing fashion, some fifteen years ago. 1t only
took one grim nights work to do it all.
"a story? Yes, comrade, there is a story
anent this poor bald pate ofmine; and, if you
wish to hear it, will tell you. 1t is an old
story now, and over-familar to our friends
about here, for fear have gabbled it some
what too often when the bottle has been go
ing round; but, as you have never heard it
BEFORE you will find it as good as new. The
up train is not due for full hour yet; and
perhaps my story may help as well as any
thing else to kill time Fill your glass, then,
and draw nearer to the fire, for that drifting
snow outside does not make this winter night
too warm.
''You say you knew at once, when first you
saw me, that had served Well, no doubt
the soldier who has been in active service al
ways bears the stamp of his profession about
him I have smelt powder on more than one
field. | was nine years in the-th fusiieers.
served in Canada and, after reaching the
grade of sergeant, was dangerously wounded
in a rencontre with the Kaffirs at the Cape,
and was sent home with a pension The re-
storation Of health brought back my constitu-
tional antipathy to idleness and, after knock
ing about in sore discomfort for some time,
at last succeeded in procuring occupation as
ticket clerk at the Longley station on this
line.
''You don't know the country about Long
ley? No. You lose nothing thereby, for a
more miserable district Of bleak hills and wild
barren moor is not to be found from this to
John O. Greats; and the population, rude and
churlish, are as little attractive as the country
they dwell in.
among the few acquaintance made dur
ing the one year | spent there was young
fellow named Carston, the son OF q wealthy
vino lived some six miles from
the station A clever fellow he was-the real
manager of the farmland on market-days,
and such like, he was frequent traveller on
our line Young Carston and had come to
be great friends, and more than one pleasant
holiday spent with him for even we railway
officials have holidays now and again. up
among the hills, bleak and barren as they
were. [ dwell upon all this Qather tediously,
perhaps, because it is to Frank Carston owe
this bald crown.
at was q cold, cherries, winter evening,
as | stood upon the platform waiting for the
mail train from the North, which was little
behind its time. There was no passenger from
Longley; the train would not wait two min
utes, and my work would be over when it had
passed on. was pleasantly anticipating
quiet night by my own fireside, with hot
cup of tea and the London morning paper,
when the train come dashing in and pulled
up with a shrek, and head was thrust out
from one of the carriages, while the familiar
voice of my old friend Carston hailed me.
g Ned old fellow he said, as hurried up
to him. 4 want you to do me a great favor.
You see this bag; it contains two hundred
Tomorrow is rent-day, and
got this cash for the old man this morning.
You know the crazehe has for paying in gold.
lam going through to London Oil urgent bus
mess, and what l want you to do for me is to
take charge OF the money and this letter, and
carry them out to our place. Get any sort of
and drive out; don't mind the
settle all that. | know that, as
a friend, you'll do this business carefully for
me. Tell father I'll be home tomorrow night,
if possible
'Of' went the train, and, before l could ut
ter word, was left alone on the platform,
with a heavy bag of gold in my hand. The
commission with which had so unexpected
ly been entrusted was a very disagreeable
one that bleak winter night; but it would be
churlish to disappoint a friend. | went to my
lodgings, got some tea, loaded a small double
barreled pistol, Gan unusual precaution, sug-
gested by the thought of the gold, put it in
my pocket, and wrapped my great coat round
me. 1t was no easy thing to get carriage, fly,
or gig, in little place like Longley, at that
hour and what was walk of four miles to
me, when was sure of stiff glass of some
thing warm and good bed that night, and
a pleasant canter on sure-footed nag back
to the railway station in the morning?
THE night though cold, was dry, and the
moon was up lobe sure some oninous clouds
were gathering round her, and she was not
rising, but steadily sinking, and would soon
be hidden behind the hills. No matter; /
should be far on my way before her light was
gone, and those clouds, l thought, were not
likely to change into what they promised-a
[ was safely ensconced by
old Carston's hospitable Preside All went
well enough for the first half hour and as the
brisk walk made the blood course warmly
through my veins, l thought how much pleas
anter this was than to be jolted and bruised
in some such crazy, numbering old vehicle as
the Longley Inn was capable of supplying,
over that rough, wild mountain road. But
my anticipations of the weather proved sorely
deceptive. Before the half hour had well gone
by, the snOw-storn came down fierce and fast
and the moon was no longer visible. There
was no help now, however, but all the more
need to get to my journeys end as soon as
nnSsihe: so | clutched my stick with q firm