The home journal. (Winchester, Tenn.) 1858-188?, 1881-08-10
THE CONDUCTORS STORY.
AN EPISODE OF HiDWELLs BAB.
IArgonaut.

I think it is Emerson who says
"When You pay your ticket and get into
the car you have no guess what good
company You shall find there. You buy
much that is not rendered i'll the bill ~
| have found this remark cmineutly true
ON several occasions, particularly when
my lifelong friend Ruth bears me
company.
Ruth is the most unconventional Of
women. She travels as she does every
thing else, with whole ,soulcd earnest
ness. and finds bread where most people
could gather only stones. Thus, recent
", being in the rear car of the long
train, she preferred standing upon the
platform and drinking in at one draught
that magnificent valley through which
we seemed flying than by tantallAilS
sips. as one has to do from behind a
narrow car window.
followed her. | always do. And,
holding ON to the narrow railing, we
felt somewhat like two lost comets whlrl-
ing through space. Soon the door be
hind us banged, and gentleman i'll the
midsummer Of life, with n face as cassl-
cally beautiful as Edwin Booths and a
waist of Falstallian dimensions, lolued
us. He beamcd on us almost literally.
From the dimplc i'll his fair, soft chin to
the ring of brown, silky hair which lay
upon his broad, smooth forehead, the
expression scintilated with intelligent
rood nature. Withal, there was such
retrospective background to the sunny
brightness that after few common
places Ruth, the daring, honest, impu-
dent creature, said, looking up mean
while into his face with II smile So honest
and kindly that he would have been a
Bersorker not to have reflected it:
"Sir, permit me to remark that you
are physical incongruity." "
"Not so bad as that madame, | hope.
] am merely conductor, as by this
time you have discovered, and a pretty
we'll balanced one, Independent of
ayoraupol'>"
"But your thoughtful face, sir, that
is what pcrplcxcs me. IT should belong
to body but onc-third the weight of
yours" suggested Ruth. the wise disci-
Pile of Lavatcr.
"NIy face is all right" he replied,
stroking his cheeks and chin with an air
of marvellous seIf-complacency. "lt
stopped growing ten years ago, but it is
here touching the region of his dia-
phragm with the tip of his forefinger,
THAT contentment and my good luck
4, n.,,,,.,l,-., I thin 90
Peter Schemmers shadow, and"--he
paused, looking into Ruth's clear, gray
ewes as if he would sound her souls
depths-"I am strongly tempted to tell
you my bit Of romance, for there is
long stretch ahead, and you look like one
of the kind to enjoy touch of nature.
Isn't it so?"
The conductor had struck the very key
note of our needs. We were pining for
veritable California story, told in an un-
conventional way, outside OF the we'll
read romances of Bret Harte and The
Argonaut. To be told, too, under such
peculiar circumstances would be an ad-
ded spice, and thus besought him to i'm
mediatly yield to temptation.
II am nm old stager," he said, "at
least as far back as the spring of 1850.
With a blanket strapped upon my back,
fifty cents in my pants pocket and the
biggest stock of hope and unused ener-
gy that ever made a lads heart rs light
as balloon, ] tramped along here in my
search for the gold diggings.' My
ambition was higher than those buttes
yonder by thousands of feet, and the top
was to he capped by solid gold" point.
ing as he spoke to the three singular and
isolated peaks we were just then passing,
known as the Marysyiile Buttes, whose
volcanic heights looked as inaccessible to
us as their peaks seemed brown and bar
rem.