The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1872-05-25

like that. don't like to hear you
Molly, I'm hungry man to night"
land your supper is just ready"
While they were at the table, a boy
touched the bell knob at the door, and
Mary, going to answer the call, found
telegraph message there.
''Papa, it's for you. Maybe the man
whose boy was saved has sent you pre-
sent, she said, as she gave it to him
81 would, if l were him.
The engine driver held the bit of paper
In his weather beaten fingers full min
ute, 1t seemed TO his wife, 'ere he bad the
courage to say, "Molly Ben Lanes
baby is going to die before morning, and
he wants me 70 take his place on the
American for the up trip to>Right. He
says he shan't rest content to risk his
train with another man on the road -
What shall | do about it p
The little wife laughed "You Inow
Frank, you wouldn't stay at home, if l
said no thousand times OF course
you'll go," and then a shadow stole over
her face. Railroad mems wives have
such nerve-aching hours, and it is such
sweet relief TO have ones cares within
four walls now and then, that il is no
wonder that this wife could not smile
long that night. So they wrapped him
up, mutfiing every inch of skin that could
be spared from the cutting cold Mary
slyly took slices of chicken and sand
wiched them into bread AMI tucked the
bundle II made into big side pocket
Frank begged SO TO be taken along, that
1t was hard to refuse the lad 1.-The cold
will make you sleepy, papa he said,
''and you'll want me TO prick you awake,
now and then"
"Shall take him, Molly ?" the brown
faced father asked, but did not wait for
an answer, say ing quickly: ''No. Frank,
stay at home and take care of your moth
er. I'll give some poor soul ride with
me 10 night There's always a dozen
begging to be taken, and | feel good ma
tured. l expect it's t!',t baby | saved
to-day. l should just like TO see that
woman's face when she put him TO bed
10 aight. Good night and bless you,
Molly. Good bye, Mary. Frank, you
may 60 down and see M off, if it will do
you any good" and 50 he went.
Frank was at home again before eight
O'Clock, having waited 10 see the engine
start on is long lonely way through the
gloom of the mountains and the shadows
/ of the night. "Papa sent you up news
paper. He thought, maybe, you'd be
lonely without him." he said s'and,
mamma, he told me 10 tell you that he
/ teCk up man for the whole trip he
thought you'd feel safer if you knew, and
he won't be heme again in two days lie
don't think but he said l might rrn
! down to>morrow when the train comes
back and give him the news
81 will GO down myself, Frank" said
Mrs. Dee, opening the newspaper her
thoughtful husband had sent her.
The passenger train was, meanwhile,
| speeding along its iron way, with is
scores of men and women. every soul OF
! them busy with this earthlife of ours
! There were men on that train going tI
! homes, that, in the eyes of the world
were more than the homes of the engint
driver, but not one of them was bound
to a place more full Of true and tender
love than his own little home up town.
UGder the shadows of the mountain
over darkly lined bridges, in the plains o
moonlight, past the low brown station
house, along the line, through the boauti-
ful villages, hCrried the express train
All was well. Within the comfortabl,
cars, the passengers rested, asleep. o.
dreamed in wideawake faucies, as all tht
out of doors swept by.
! ha thnt IL
upon his engine began now anG then t
talk TO the engine driver, and, in reply
received words that were sharp and crisI
as words could be, for he wanted all o
himself TO guide that train to its destina
ton.
The moonlight saw, despite the crisI
wards, smile come and so again anI
again on the brown face Of the driver
lie could not help il he was thipkin!
OF that little boy that he had caught from
the crush OF death and tossed into ih,
snow that day. Ii made him feel, some
how, akin to the angels who GO about or
Divine errands of bearing up and snatch
Ing back from falling and from sin. Ill
smiled again at the thought of anselhoo,
for enc like himself. "Me an angel
Me! Within these brown rough weather
clothes! No! No! | am only an engi
neer on railroad trying to do my duty
from a variety of motives, but, chiefly,
do belieye-yes | do-from love TO the
Master. The little boy saved to day
may have work 70 do in the world tha
l could never do" and lie smiled ono,
more and looked steadily out, thinking o
his comrade, Ben Lane, bending over hi
dying baby. 'Poor Ben, he sighed, Ga
least you will know your duty was vel
done while you watched
How the hills rang and ratified how
the echoes cashed from lips of stone
softly dipped in snow. as long, brown
line of cars ira He'd its length behind the
fiery eye that told to all the hills along the
river that freight train was on Its WAY
1 IN tho saa Everv nioht the hiIls haar,