The Wheeling daily register. [volume] (Wheeling, W. Va.) 1864-1878, 1873-05-01
a he s,Snai to- the ~ ife-How EuxIn.
eer Guild Died.

| Ger "ufIu Dfeu.
In the material chroncllng OF daily
events as they occur, it is not expected
that much poetry or sentiment will man
est itself, ln the newspapers the chord
vibrated the most frequent is that Of
horror. Fearful accidents, riots and
murders come in damp, ipky way
to the breakfast table, aud fasten one
while the neglected coffee cools But
once in a while, without designing it
flowers OF poetry will bloom beneath
the busy fiOgers of the telegraph opera
tor as he sends his dot and dash story
along the wires. He does not know il,
perhaps Tor his brain is busy with the
translation OF his copy into the mystic
alphabet OF Morse,
Such story comes as sad sequel to
the appalling catastrophe at Pawca-
tuck river. First we were thrilled to
the heart by the graphic recital of the
rushing train, speeding on through the
black night towards the yawuing chasm,
Just ahead. Then came the fatal leap
into the clammy arms of death, and
Ger all the crushed and broken cars and
their living freight, the fame king
waved bis crimson banner. While
reading the story we could hear those
agouised shrieks OF the men and women
slowly roasting to death. The picture
is just as vivid as that given US OF the
noble Atlantic grinding upon the cruel
rocks at Msrr's Head. But it was all
picture OF horror. Running through
it, however, is silver thread OF senti-
ment, touching little episode, as tender
in It's effect as any wrought by the
loving nand OF Dickens.
The engineer, VIM. D Guild, lived in
that part OF Providence known as Elm.
wood, bis house being close to the rail-
road crossing, And In that house were
bis VIE aud balrus. So every time he
rushed by the loved spot, whether in
0ignt or day, in storm or sunshine, he
sounded a short, peculiar signal upon
the locomotive whistle, as greeting to
his vile. TLink OF hoarse shrek ng
locomotive whistle utterlng notes OF
love. This signal meant he was there
and "all right, and We Can easily imag
me how eagerly she listened Tor the
sound To her il was sweeter music
than ever dropped in a golden stream
from the pen o, Chopin. In time the
people o Providence, and the regular
passengers along the line, came to know
the sound, and when they heard it
would say, That's Guilds signal to his
wife" On last Sunday night she missed
it Tor the first time, and will never hear
II again.
Sucn an incident as this, supplemen en-
ted Oy the noble character OF the man
and his heroic death, round and Al out
as pathetic u story as was ever told.
| lie Was Is gallant man as any that
ever tilted LOT a bit OF RIBBON 10 the
rosy DAYS OF chivalrlc time. True be
was an engineer, smoky, begrimed
engineer, always looking ahesd to
where the flaming eye OF his engine
searched into the light; but he was
none the less a hero When the end
came at last he did not quail. They
say ne could have jumped from the
train, but he preferred 10 die at his
post. No doubt his last thoughts were
OF the wife and babes al home. A
prayer fultered up from his lips t.
heaven, AID then came the crash. His
buIued body was touni erect, with his
race TO tue 'front.' aud his hand upon the
lurottle wave. That WAS q death &c
die, since die we must, one and all OF us
Inc Black Sergeant can come in no
better gulse than when he relieves a
man from the post OF duty, and tells
hlm to turn IN Tor the long sleep Of
elernIty.-N Y. TELEGRAM.