Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1879-08-08

lquestioned "Uncle Sammy" after
my return as | sat upon the shady side
of the station platform arranging my
flowers, and he told me the three " "cu.
ris" stories, while the square little girl
stood near with an eager attitude, nod.
ding her round yellow head emphati.
cally now and then, as some Of her
statements TO me were confirmed.
Wal, the one that sleeps In the
groenest grave" said Uncle Sammy, as
he carefully fashioned q spinning top
out of bit of white pine board with the
keen blade of his Jack knife, "was a
man about twenty-five, | should ledge,
that was killed by John Wilbur's freight
one bitter, stormy day, a matter of
seven or eight years ago, or so. The
poor unfortunit was walking on the
track, some three mile above here,
with his head down, his cap pulled over
his eyes and the wind in his face when
they come upon him in roundin' a
curve. Afore there was time to pull
the bell-rope, or reverse the lever, the
savage snow-plow had hit him, an his
soul had gone up, up through the
whirlin', blindin' snow back TO the God
who gave il.
IL was one of the pleasantest, fair
est faces ever see when they brought
him in here. John Wilbur stood out
there in tho wind with the tears freezin'
onto his pale cheeks hs no was tellin'
the dretful story. Just to think ont
said he, that half IN hour ago this
man was full Of life and hope as any
ono of us, 1t goes to show us how near
our railroad runs to the gate of the
other world
oval, we laid the unfortinit man
out decently in the freight-house office,
and then we telegraphed right and left,
tryin' TO find out somethin' about him.
The only clew we could git hold on was
that an Englishman had been askin'
for work up ut Brackenboro' the day
before, and had been directed to the
steam mill here. But in the breast
pocket of the poor feller's short jacket
was little letter with no envelope to
1t, much worn with many readin's. l
knew 1t by heart. 1t said, Dear John:
Baby Mary grows finely, and as soon as
she's strong enough to sail over the
sea | will Join you at Blackenboro'.
Tho old grandfather is sad at the
thought of our leavin' him behind, but
| comfort him every day with the kind
words you wrote-that when we had a
roof of our own, with a willow tree at
the door, he should sit in the shade of
il and sing to the children the songs of
old England
1t was the letter of one not much
used to writin', guess with no address
but The Willows, England 1t had
no date, and was signed Alice Leigh
The coroner's jury brought in a verdick
of AN unknown man killed, with no
fault of the road'-though it was plan
enough to me that the man was John
Leigh of England. We buried him up
there on the company's land"
" An Uncle Sammy prayed for the
unfortinit like hero-rve heered 'em
say that war there" put in the square
little girl, who still stood by with di-
lated eyes, drinking in every word.
"There bein' no minister here, that
was my dooty," said the old man
gravely; "and 1 laid away the poor,
little worn letter in my wife's upper
boory drawer-that bein' my dooty
likewise. Wal, we didn't hear nothin'
about any friends of the poor unfort-
init, and should "a well nigh forgot
all about him if Freeman's wife hadn't
seen his ghost off and on, when the
wind blew, or the air was full of snow,
on most any time when news was
skurse and there wasn't much to talk
about.
Zone dark, rainy night, after the
man had laid out there alone nigh onto
a year, Frank Rays freight run into
washout, down the road there by the
Glenbrook culvert. | was in Freeman's
wife's kitchen that evenin', warmin'
my hands, and she was tellin' me that
the unfortinit stranger was mighty un-
easy for some time, that he had been
Iookin' into her windows off and on all
the evenin' till come. There he is
now, poor fellow said she, but
looked and didn't see nothin', of
course. Jest then Frank Rays engine
come shriekin' into the yard.
cit seemed that the machine run
over the break safely, but the cars went
down through and piled up promiscus'
enough. The conductor and two brake
men was killed, and two passengers
that was in the caboose, probably.
That was all the passengers there hap
pened to be on that night. They al
ways brought more or less that had
missed the young OWL down below.
Twas q dretful sad time. My wife
went down to the wreck with the wives
of the men that was killed, and was
there when the caboose was righted up.
There, quite dead in one corner of the
short blue car, holdin' her pooty baby
girl to her heart, was as handsome and
pure-faced, golden-haired little English
woman as l ever sot eyes on, with a
smile restin' on her sweet face as if she
had been coolng with her last breath
to the baby who was smilin' back at
her.
"My wife laid 'em out as decently as
she could in the freight house office,
jest where the poor dead man had laid
and what do you thinkP She found
pinned into the bosom of the little
mothers dress an old purse with few
pieces, and letter dated at Bracken-
boro full year and half afore.
know that letter, too, by heart that
part ont that wasn't directions for her
about comm to BrackenbOro'. 1t said:
Dear Alice: Praise God, I've got here
all safe, and please God I'll soon have
a home for thee and the baby. Com
fort the old grandfather, and tell him
he shall come to us by and by and sing
the songs of Merry England to the chill
dren, and that when | get home l will
set out willow tree by the doo- for the
sake of the old home in England The
poor, bad-written, siled letter was
signed: Your faithful and loving hus-
band, John Leigh
Twas as weak as rat when | first
read it, and my wife said it was the
true love in the poor young husbands
heart--that heart that was then but
handful of dust-that drew this sweet,
constant little wife straightto him; that
God in his great kindness would not
leave her to face so great disappoint-
ment, so He gave her and the baby
quick, painless death and a joyful
meeting in Heaven. Wal, in the face
of the fact that L knew well enough the