The Corvallis gazette. [volume] (Corvallis, Or.) 1862-1899, 1881-05-13
"DAyE.'' y

| LII 0aQ Su1IeQ GQe QanQSOmo man VINO
stood at the throttle to make the magnif.
| cent engine of which he was so proud
| and which was noted for its speed, al.
most creep down to duty this morning,
and it required no stretch of the imagi-
nation on his part, and he rather liked
| the fancy. to think that it was the leaden
| that bore her down and impeded her
progress so wonderfully at times.
How well he remembered Flora La
| mar, black-eyed Flora, who was older
than he, but who had ever shown such a
decided preference for him, and had
been so jealous of simple little Viola
White, whom he had met and loved, the
modest, unpretentious country girl.
She had been the object of his first boy
ish dream, of the strong, fervent love of
the man, and the cause of all the sorrow
he had ever known. He had lived over
their happy married life, until his wife
deserted him, leaving no clue to her
whereabouts and giving no reason for
her strange conduct.
To the boys on the road he was 'Dave'
handsome, kind hearted but close mouth
ed "Dave" They knew nothing of his
past. He had come among them and
made his way up, and all they could
ever learn was that he was from the
East. His father and mother were dead,
and all ties to the old home were sun
dered.
One night he received the intelligence
that a woman answering the description
given by him of his wife was lying at the
morgue, having been lifted from the
river that morning. He had fastened to
the place, but in the swollen, bloated
features of this poor creature, he could
trace little resemblance to his wife. She
was much such formed woman as
Viola, but lacked the symmetry and
the latter. The only thing that could
reconcile him to the thought that this
was all that remained to him of his wife,
the only thing that could fill his heart
with sorrow over this as his dead, was
the hair so like hers. The little, short,
amber-colored ringlets were the exact
shade and curl of the longer tresses
Viola had worn.
Herbert Graham buried this dead as
his own, and had come to duty this
morning, carrying the saddest of all sad
burdens, strong, brave heart, robbed
of all hope.
just beyond M they side-tracked
for the Western express to pass, and
Dave was anxious to make it by the usual
time
At this place they often had to wait
some little time and he had become won
derfully interested in little child who
always came to the gate and peered
through the p1ckets of the train. The
little cottage was a gem of itself in set
ting of profusion of blood and ever
green's.
They were running faster than usual
this morning to make up lost time, and
were just turning curve when Herbert,
looking from the cab window, beheld a
sight which made his blood run cold.
There on the track ahead was that
child from the cottage, looking straight
at the coming train, but making no
movement to escape from it's certain and
awful death.
Quick as thought he applied the air
brake and reversed the engine, but the
headway was too great, and he saw with
horror that the fate of the innocent,
manly little fellow was sealed unless
something was done at once. Filled
with the one idea of saving the imper-
lied life, he left the cab, where he had
done all that human hand could do to
avert the dreadful accident, and rapidly
made his way along the side of the
throbbing engine until he reached the
pilot. He was just In time, for as he
bent over and stretched out his strong
right arm, the pilot struck the helpless
child that lay face to face with an awful
death. But quick as it was, the brave
hearted Herbert was quicker, and in an
instant he lifted the child and held it
aloft in air, as the heavy engine thun-
| = IL, ~,x1,1 l. L
rested an instant before. In this posi-
ton he remained until the engine,
which had been gradually slowing
the applied brakes, came to standstil1.
Then he stepped to the ground with
the rescued child in his arms. The
little fellow put his arms around his
neck, and laying his head on the brave
mans shoulder, his mouth, which was
bleeding from the contact with the
pilot, kissed his cheek, and the little
wounded lips murmured almost
dreamily:
"Herbie loves papa; poor papa"
Helrt started and almost let the
child fall from his arms in his great
agitation; but before he could collect
his thoughts the mother rushed to the
spot almost frantic with grief at the
sad fate she thought had befallen her
darling, and in her great joy at finding
him safe, saw nothing save her baby.
But Herbert Graham looked at her in
wonder and astonishment There be-
fore him was the living, breathing
image of his lost wife, widows cap
above her rich hair, and clad in deep
mourning. There was no time for
wonder, however, for the Western ex-
press rushed past them and he must go
on to duty.
Thank you, sir, again and again, :
the little woman murmured. ssGod
will reward you; never can.
Madam, /" said Herbert, ssno thanks
are called for duty performed. I will,
however, request the pleasure of calling
at your home on my return, and inquir.
ing for the welfare of your child. May
I ask for your name?"
His heart stood still as he listened
breathlessly for her reply, as she was
about to speak it bounded high,
and at the name, sunk like leaden
weight.
MY name is Brown. THE Widow
Brown and I live in the cottage yonder.
Do call when you are at leisure, for You
will be Welcome visitor at 9 grateful
mothers home. =
sJ1 -. f: .~.,z ~1.sv.<.<5 ,,,<,r<s v,v<,,.