The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1874-04-17
ROMANCE OF THE RAIL.

Among the pleasant things in an
itinerant Bohemian life count the per-
petual meeting at most unexpected
places of people whom you have known
before in widely different localities. An
hour ago nay friend and l started for
stroll on this matchless Galveston
beach. All the afternoon we sat on the
upper gallery watching the long, low
surf-crests that crept so slowly and
surely landward all the afternoon we
had listened, in the pauses of our light
chattering, to the ceaseless refrain
which those same white-capped waves
were chanting, till the beauty of the
scene and the siren song tempted us
down to the shore. Oh, it was lovely,
sauntering thither over the oleander-
planted walks, breathing their rich, ex-
quisite perfuu.e and gathering handfuls
of the pink blossoms. A few carriages
had come for the regular sunset drive
some German women were gathering
shells few children, with bare,
dimpled feet, were wading out into the
coming waves, to run back with screams
of laughter when some swifter billow
washed up higher than the rest and
over the whole picture there rested the
mellow glow reflected from the Grim
soned west.
The occupants of the carriages raised
their eyebrows in polite apazement as
they rolled past us, for pleasure walk
was beyond their comprehension and
my friend laughed, telling me that she
always knew Northern visitors because
they loved to wander a pied, and Texans
never do.
"I'm sure they regard me as mildly
insane for my long walks but, see, this
time we have companions in our mad
ness, she continued, pointing to pair
who were standing a little distance be-
yond.
Evidently a bride and groom" 1
asserted, for
" Both were young and one fair"
and there were the usual unmistakable
symptoms of recent ownership quite
apparent in the air of the young man,
who just then folded the lady's wrap
more closely, and caught her futtering
vail till she had fastened it securely !;
and in the act she turned her face tow
ard us, startling me with its familiar
look.
- Isn't she beautiful said my friend.
I answered her absently, since L was
hunting every nook in memory for the
counterpart of the fair girl before us.
I was sure L had known her-but
where?
An impairment wave came hurrying
up the beach, and i'll a moment the
brides dainty boots would have suffered,
but Milford clasped her swiftly, and rails
ing her, ran back a few steps, coming
close to us. L knew then where had
seen the happy pair, but | went very
soberly toward them, only quietly say
ing
q so this is what came of that jour
ney -
by Jove !" calculated my Zero in
round English tones, Selling both my
hands in grip that nearly crushed
them, while the bride blushed, laughed
and added her graceful greeting.
Wasn't it an odd encounter? L last
saw those young people at Cheyenne, IN
September, 1873; now they met me
strolling on the shore of the Gulf, and
my friend asserted that we had picked
up something better than shells this
time, for she demanded the story at
once and 1 will tell it to you just as |
told 1t to her.
On Friday, Sept. IL, 1871 like to
be accurate-the San Francisco train
stood on the track Mt Omaha wait
ing the arrival, from the opposite side
OF the Missouri, of Eastern passengers.
There were four Pullman cars attached;
three were alre dy filed, or engaged by
telegram. and the officials in charge
were grumbling because " Boss Tweed"
and his party occupied six entire sec