The Cincinnati daily star. [volume] ([Cincinnati, Ohio]) 1875-1880, 1879-01-07
An Old Street. Car Driver.

though I never spoke to him, felt as if
had known him for years-not simply as a
chance acquaintance with whom I might
exchange ordinary salutations in passing,
but as man with whom l was intimate,
and knew Just how he lived and what he
lived for.
I considered / had taken him in some
curious way into my confidence. Winter
and summer, rain, sunshine and storm, dur
ing light and darkness, Simon Lindsay
passed the door of my residence twelve
times day-six round-trips don't think
he even missed Sunday.
always nodded to him, ct first to stop
the car but subsequently in a less formal
manner, till at length we bobbed our heads
at each other in quite a fraternal way, and
though, as 1 said before, we never ex-
changed word for years. 1 considered my
self quite well acquainted with this particular
driver.
1t is impossible for man who takes an
interest in his fellows not to single out one,
here and there, from the people We see
to whom he becomes particularly at
tached.
We have our favorite letter carrier, our
| favorite policeman, our favorite conductor,
and, in my case, our favorito street-car
driver. In order that these men should be
fayortcs, it is not necessary to have ex-
changed word with them. We lcok into
their eyes, note their walk or their manner
of doing their separate duties, and we reject
them instinctively, or give them warm
place in our hearts in spite of ourselves.
Simon Lindsay was not an attractive
looking man, in the ordinary acceptation Of
the word. He was an old man, gray haired
and wlta-bearded, and the portion of his
weathcr-beaten face, lot hidden by his
beard and colorlcss, slouched hat, had a
beaten, subdued expression, which, with
Lis rounded shoulders and stopping form,
bespoke a man who had long since made up
his mind to endure the inevitable without
complaint.
Inever saw him without gloves, even in
warm weather. AS for the rest of his dress,
it seemed to change but little An old army
overcoat with the cape gone, indicated that
he thought it a very cold day, and blue
muf1ar, much the worse for wear, was
worn when the weather was unusually Sc
we're.
The line for which the old man worked
did not allow seats for their drivers un-
derstand the management had had the cues
ton of seats for the drivers before them,
when the road first opened, and majority
favored the convenience
But Mr Thomas Skinner, the president,
opposed seats. Said he, in very loud and
swelling way, enormously proud of the
work represented IN himself:
'"rhe drivers will have to work seventeen
hours out Of twenty-four. I've been hard
working man myself in my time, and
know seventeen hours is about as much as 6
man can stand the year round, and do his
work well We want good drivers, and the
way to make them good and careful is tc
keep them wide awake. Now l would like
to ask how you are going to keep q drivcl
wide awake when you place nice seat be-
hind for him to sit on, nice dashboard ii
front for himself to lean on, and then put
musical bells on the horses to make him &C
to sleep? I tell you it won't work. The
drivers will go to sleep and pay no attcn
ton to passengers, and they will be slaugh
tering children and helpless old people a
every crossing So, under the circum
stances, and as man who knows wha
work is, and how men must be treated,
oppose seats"
When Mr. Thomas Skinner sat down, al
the directors were on bis side. and so tn
PEOPLES Accommodation Line had no seat
for the drivers.
think now Mr. Skinner was quite right
for often, when returning from my news
paper office, very late at night, I have seel
old Simon Lindsay looking so tired that th'
lines seemed ready to drop from his hand
and he to fall asleep, if he could find any
thing to lean against.
, often wondered when the old car r-drive
got time to sleep, md must acknowledg
, to a curiosity to know something of tn
$ faithful, uncomplaining mans life fel
: certain he was not working for himsel
alone; that he had some one depending O.
: him-some one much mo-e helpless tha
himself.
Chance at length threw down the bal