Daily Kennebec journal., 1877-01-11
Dailp 3lrnnrbct aournaL.
THE ENGINEERS STORY.

station. the name of which has escaped
me. into Pueblo by night. There had
been heavy rains. Parts of the track were
submerged. The darkness and the rush
of waters created among the passengers
considerable anxiety, l spent most OF the
cab. The engineer was too much absorb
ed in his duties to talk. He answered
nv questions with civiii:y but with brevi-
ty. / did not observe it at the time, but
afterward recalled distinctly the sudden
start he gave, and The look Of interest he
turned upon me, when l made some OBJ
seryation which indicated that my house
was iu the vicinity of Pittsburg. The
next dav he accepted my invitation to
dine. We were alone at my room. l
had been recalling the scenes of the past
night. when, taking his pipe from his lips,
he began;
THE ENGINEERS STORY.
Mayhap, stranger, you have run over
the Pennsylvania Central Railroad. As
you NAV say, was born and brought up
on the line, first as fireman, then engi-
neer nigh on 20 years. LIS alters exclt-
in TO run machine. and when | was a
fireman used TO think it was better TO he
top of one of them splendid engines than
TO be President of the United States. The
day they first put me on the foot-board
and took the lever in my hand and knew
it was my engine, | reckon | was the
proudest man between Pittsburg and Al
toona / kinder thought that everybody
was goin' to be out. that day, to see how
the train made her run, and you kin bet
all your specie that she went smack up
to the mint, the whole III miles. But
this kind of spirit wore off, after awhile,
n l settled down into sober stlddy 60
in man n they did say that wor as safe
q reliable a man as they he'd in the busi-
ness. hev to say it, stranger, as there's
nobody else TO do 1t; elsewise you
wouldn't know it.
was turned twenty-three when me and
Mary was married. Twenty-eight years
ago. You hev wife, strangerP Hevn't
got no wife ! Well! Well mayhaps it's
Just as well he'd Mary some eight years,
but it don't seem like no time. now. !
left her there in the old Keystone State,
her an the boy Sometimes | think I'd
like to go back again, and see the place
where they both lie, but suppose new
er shall. Don't seem as if | had the heart
TO do it, 1t wasn't in any chnrchyard,
you know but little way up the noun
tain there was green quiet spot among
the trees, and they are there-not more n
one hundred feet, say, above the track
and | often wonder if Charley doesn't
still dream, when the New York Express
thunders by, tnat his old father is holding
The throttle.
put up snug cabin by the side of the
road where l had a small clearin, and
between whiles used to plant my pota-
toes and thugs. enough to keep US going,
and Mary had her garden. Mary alters
took TO flowers, as / used to tell her, lok-
Ia like, COS she was one OF the family
Then We had a COW. and Mary raised
chickens, and / never see no person could
do SO much with chickens as Mary could.
Jest seemed like those hens were alters
strainn' of themselves layin' eggs. An
then they'd set and hatch incredible.
Mostly two broods year, and brought
'em all up.
Mary raised the cow. One of the neigh
bors give it to her wen it was calf, and
she made much of it. That cali grew up
to be knowin' COW. She used to run out
on the track just on purpose to frighten
people. She d stay on TIL the train was
close up, but never got hit. The men
soon all got TO know her and did't mind
her. But whenever a new engineer came
along and saw her he'd whistle brakes,
often bringing the train TO step. But
she'd walk off just at the righ. time and
seemed to understand the joke.
Our little cabin was in among the noun
tains, good ways from any other house,
and used sometimes TO think that Mary
must be lonely, with me away so much OF
the time. You see, | was alters out three
nights in the week. / went up in the
day time, passing my house at noon, and
down again that night. passing at mid
night. But | was home two or three
days in the week and alters Sunday. The
place where we lived was wild region
OF country, and the storms we used to
have up there, so high in the air, was fear
ful.
| didn't tell you anything about the boy ?
No! Well, do you know, took to him
the very first moment. An that's a very
cure thing about babies. Now | never
fancied 'em much, but | tell you. stranger
1t makes all the difference in the world
whether it's your baby or whether it be
longs to somebody else. I've seen a great
many Of 'em in my time, and accordin' to
their parents they was the most uncom-
mon babies; bat | never could see much
OF 1t. used to laugh good deal when
people made such fools OF themselves over
their children, but know exactly how it
is now, for j suppose | was the greatest
fool over my Charley as ever lived. Mary
named him Charley. That was after me.
Seems TO nse that boy took to a locomotive
from the time he was six months old
His mother would set out in front of the
house, with him in her lap, when | went
up at noon, and she'd kiss her hand and
wave the baby at me. BY the time he
was three years old he'd got so that used
to take him up to ride with me. There
was water tank near the house, and
when l stopped to water he was alters
there, and I'd ketch him up n carry IN
of ten or twenty miles, till met another
train, and some Of the boys'd carry him
back home, 'Twasn't long afore there
was scarce a man on the road as didn't
know Charley Latham baby They'd
pick i'm up whenever they could find i'm,
and sometimes he'd be gone nearly all
day, but somebody d set i'm down alore
nlghtn he'd come toddlng home. Some
times think it's queer how the men used
to take to that baby. There was lellers
Just as rough as observation-disclosures they'd
get DRINK and a