Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1867-10-10
for the Mun1e Girfle.
THE GLASS RAILROAD.

gor Tue gnme WTGK.
THE GLASS RAILROAD.
| "There was moral in that dream"
The "Milford Bard,' during one of his
fits of msaaia potu, said:
It seemed to me as though had been
suddenly aroused from my slumbers. [ look.
ed around and found myself in the centre
of a gay crowd. The first sensation l ex.
perienced was that of being bourne along
with peculiar, gentle motion. I looked
around, and found I was in long train Of
cars, which were gliding over railway
many miles in length. 1t was composed
of many cars. Every car opened at the top,
and was filled with men and women all gal
ly dressed, all happy, all laughing, talking
and singing. The peculiar gentle motion OF
the cars interested me. There was no gra-
ting, such as we hear on a railroad. This,
I say, interested me. looked over the
side, and to my astonishment found the
railroad and cars made of glass. The glass
wheels moved over the glass rails without
the least noise or oscillation. The soft gil,
ding motion produced feeling of exquisite
happiness. T was happy! It seemed as
if every thing was at rest within-l was
full of peace. ...=..
While was wondering over this circum-
stance, new sight attracted my gaze. ALI
along the road, on either side, within a
foot of the track, were laid long lines OF
coffins, and every one contained corpse,
dressed for burial, with its cold white face
turned upward to the light. The sight
filled me with horror; I yelled in agony,
but could make no sound. The gay throng
who were around me only redoubled their
songs and laughter at the sight of my ago.
ny; and we swept on, gliding with glass
wheels over the glass railroad, every mo-
ment nearer to the bend of the road, far,
far in the distance.
"Who are those >" I cried at last, point
ing to the dead in their cofins.
"These are the persons who made the
trip before us, was the reply Of the gayest
person near me.
"What trip" I asked.
"Why the trip we are now taking-the
trip on this glass railway" was the answer.
''Why do they lay along the road, each
one in his coffin 2" was answered with a
whisper and half laugh, which froze my
blood:
"They were dashed to death at the end
of the railroad" said the person whom l
addressed. "You know the railroad termi-
mates at the abyss, which is without bottom
or measure. It is lined with pointed rocks.
As each car arrives at the end it precipi-
tates it's passengers into the abyss. They are
dashed to pieces against the rocks and their
bodies are then brought here and placed
in the cofins as warning to passengers,
but no one minds it, We are so happy on
the glass railroad"
I can never describe the horror with
which these words inspired me.
"What is the name of the glass railroad?"
I asked.
The person whom addressed replied in
the same strain:
"It is very easy to get into the cars, but
very hard to get out; for once in these cars
every one is delighted with the soft gliding
motion. The cars move so gently! Yes,
this is railroad of Habit, and with glass
wheels we are whirled over a glass railroad
to a fathomless abyss. In few moments
we'll be there, and they'll bring our bodies
and put them in cofins as warning to
others, but nobody will mind it, will they?"
I was shocked with horror. l struggled
to breathe, and made frantic efforts to leap
from the cars, and in the struggle awoke.
I knew it was only dream, and yet, when
ever think of it, I can see that long train
of cars move gently over the glass railroad.
I can see cars far ahead as they are turning
the bend of the road. I can see the dead
in their coffins, clear and distict-on either
side of the road. While the laughing and
singing of the gay and happy passengers
resound in my ears, only see those cold
faces of the dead, with their CLASSY eyes
uplifted, and their frozen hands upon their
white shrouds.
sIt was horrible dream"
And the Bard's changing features and
frightening eye attested the emotion which
had been aroused by the very memory of
that dream.
1t was indeed horrible dream. A long
train of glass cars, gliding over a glass
freighted with youth, beauty and
music. while on either hand are stretched
the victims of yesterday-gliding over the
fathomless abyss.
sThere a moral in that dream"
Reader, are you addicted to any sinful
habit? Break it off ere you dash against
the rocks.
THE TREASURES OF THE WICKED.
Every man is treasuring up stores for e.
ternity; the good arc laying up ''treasures
in Heaven where moth doth not corrupt )"