Beaufort Republican. [volume] (Beaufort, S.C.) 1871-1873, 1871-12-07

even in respect to back seats. Through
the back window of the car she obtained
such wide, new outlook on the world.
Away behind her sped her native noun
tains, shifting into new beauty of shape
as the track twisted this way and that,
until they grew blue in the distance and
finanlly vanished behind new ranges that
gradually appeared in the picture. Broad
and green the meadows spread out each
side in the sunlight. She saw all the will
lows "pussying" out by the brooksides,
the elms hazy with their tender mist Of
tiny new leave, the black ponds in the
woods.
There was certain fascination, too, in
watching the track unroll itself from be-
meath the cars, and speed away into the
distance, now plunging into deep gorges;
then out over high embankments, through
the arches of bridges, over brook and riv-
er, now in the depth of solemn woods,
now just skimming the corner of an old
farmhouse built years before railroads
were dreamed Of
Then Polly caught all the after -glimpses
of peop!e-little bits of human nature en-
tirely lost by the occupants of the front
seats. She saw the young man who kissed
his hand from the back platform, and the
"glrl he had left behind him" waving her
handkerchief across the rapid widening
space between them; the old man getting
slowly into his empty wagon gazing wist-
fully after the train, that was whirling
his boy off to the greedy West; the depot,
loungers lazily picking up their feet and
sauntering off; the men ploughing in the
fields; the women hanging out clothes, the
Irishmen at work on the track going on
again with the work interrupted by the
passing train; the runaway horses sober
ing down; the truant boys who "hur-
rahed" the train, climbing down from the
fence and scrambling off toward school.
cit is like life,'' thought Polly, who felt
in particular moral vein this morning.
$50 we come aud 60. There is little
stir, little brief Importance, then are we
gone, and 10! the world goesSpn just the
same"
1t was curious to notice how everything
seemed to catch the infection Of hurry
from the train. The dead leaves whirled
and leaped in the air; the very sand, 20
the earth, earthly" flew on the breeze "as
if it had wings" the sober old trees il the
wood waved and tossed their branchesj
and seemed to stretch their arms out i'm
ploringly, saying, "Take US with you, out
from this solitude and silence into the
world of hurry and hustle and life to-
which you CO."
And the picture was always changing:
Polly never knew what might come next.
She decided it was altogether the best
panorama she ever attended. She felt
positively sorry for the young man with
the slightly bloated, red face, in one OF
the best seats on the shady side in front,
who locked so intently out Of the window
whenever woman entered the car until
some gentleman had given her seat; and
for his neighbor, the fat old gentleman,
who secured the same end by burying his
face in newspaper. They were losing
so much. and never knew it. All this
changing scene of life, and beauty, and
human nature, going on around them and
| thew never the wiser or better for it; en-
tirely shut up in their own selfish disf
agreeable selves.
Aud being in moral vein, Polly won-
dered if the people who take the back
seats in life don't always have the best of
it; the people who are not in a fret and
hurry, and ready to push down and tram
pie on their fellow travellers to secure the
best place, the highest positions, the first
notice, the front seats generally; who
don't expect much, are not eager to thrust
themselves forward, don't think much
about themselves anyway. Whether
there was not certain peace and serenity
always attendant on the back seat; a leis-
urc from ones self that gives room for a
deal of outside living. And, after all, the
Journey is so short and 80 swift that, real
ly, the seat one occupies is of very little
consequence. The people in the back seat
reach the journeys end just as soon, and
once there no one asks how they came.