South Branch intelligencer. [volume] (Romney, Va. [W. Va.]) 1830-1896, 1881-06-24
An Old Street-car Driver.


that though l never spoke to him, L
/ felt rs if l had known him for years
, hot simply as chance acquaintance
with whom might change ordinary
salutations in passing, but rs man
with whom was intimate, and knew
just how he lived aud what he lived
for.
l considered 1 had taken him In
some curious way into my confidence.
Winter and summer, rain, sunshine
and storm, during light and darkness,
Simon Lindsay passed the door of my
residence twelve times day-six
round trips. l don't think he ever
missed q Sunday.
always nodded to him, ut first to
stop the car, but subsequently in less
formal manner, till at length we bob.
bed our heads at each other in quite n
fraternal way, and though, as said
before, we never exchanged word
for years, l considered myself quite
we'll acquainted with this particular
driver.
1t is impossible for q man who takes
an interest in his fellows not to single
out one, here and there, from the pco-
pie we see to whom he becomes par
ticularly attached.
We have our favorite letter carrier.
our favorite policeman, our favorite
conductor, and, in my case, our favor
lite street-car driver. In order that
these men should be favoritcs, it is
not necessary to hive exchanged q
word with them. We look into their
eyes, note their walk or their manner
OF doing their separate duties and we
reject them instinctivcly, or give them
warm place in our hearts in spite of
ourselves.
Simon Lindsay was not an attrac.
tive looking man, in the ordinary nc.
ceptatlon OF the word. He was an
old man, gray-haircd and white beard
ed, and the portion of his weather.
beaten face, not hidden by his beard
and colorless, slouchcd hat, had bea>
ten, subdued expression, which, with
his rounded shoulders and stooping
form, bespoke Il man who had long
since made up his mind to endure the
inevitable without complaint.
never saw him without gloves,
even III warm weather. AS for the
rest of his dress it seemed to change
but little. An old army ovcrcoat,
with the cape gone, indicated that he
thought 1T very cold day, and a blue
muller, much the worse for wear. was
Worn when the weather was unusually
severe.
The line for which the old man
worked did not allow seats for their
drivers. understand tho manage
mcnt had had the question of seats for
the drivers before them, when the road
rirst opened, and majority favored
the convenience.
But Mr.. Thomas Skinner, the pres
ident, opposed seats. Said he, in n
very loud and swelling way, enormous
~ proud of the work represented in
himself:
'Thc drivers will have to work Sow
entcon hours ont of twenty.four I've
been Il Woodworking man myself in
my time, and | know seventeen hours
ls about rs much "a Il 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 to
keep them wide awake. Now, would
like to ask how you are going to keep
n driver wide awake when you place
nice seat behind him to sit on. u nice
dashboard in front for himself TO lean
on, aud then put musical bells on the
horses to make him 90 to sleep ? |
tell You it won't work, tho driver
will go to sleep and pay no attention
to passengers, and they will be slaupl-
tering children and old people mt ev-
cry crossing. So, under the circum.
stances, and as n man who knows
what work is, and low men must be
treated, | oppose seats I"
When Mr.. Thomas Skinner sat
down, all the directors was on his side.
and so the Peoples Accommodation
Line had no seats for the drivers.
think now Mr.. Skinner was quite
right, for often, when returning from
my newspaper Office. very late. at
night, have seen old Simon Lindsay
looking so tired that the lines seems
ed ready TO drop from his hands, and
to fall asleep, if he could find any.
thing to lean against.
! often wondered when the old car.
driver got time to sleep, and | must
acknowledge to a curiosity to know
something of the faithful, uncomplain-
ing mans life. felt certain he was
not working for himself alone; that he
had some one depending on him
some one much more helpless than
himself.
Chance at last threw down the bar,
ricrs Of reserve that seemed ever 70
surround Simon Lindsay. and knew
the man rs few men know their dear
est friends for was permitted TO
hear the story of his life, and 10 sec