The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1881-07-20
MISCELLANY.
THE BRAREMAN,s STORY.


A rough looking man Yes perhaps am.
We-ain't all of us responsible for our outside
husk, no more than horse. chestnut or a ha-
eel nut is. This kind of life can't be lived in
white kid gloves and dress coats. wasn't
brought up with many advantages, aud I'm
only brakeman on the Rensselaer, and Sara
toga line Old Jones was telling you about
me, sir? He'd better hold his tongue
There's more profitable subjects of conversa-
ton than l am. But old Jones means we'll
enough, and if he told you to ask me how
that stripe of white hair came on my black
name, l amt the man to go back on him. Oh,
you needn't beg my pardon, sir don't
mind talking about it now, though the time
was when couldn't speak of it without big
lump coming ia my throat.
We hadn't been married long, Polly and
me, when it happened. Polly was as trim
and brighteyed a slip of a girl as ever youd
wish to see. She was one of the mattresses in
the Albany lunch room and the first time
ever set eyes upon her made up my mind to
make that girl my wife. &c. when they
raised my wages, took heart and asked her
if she would have them with me, with we'd
ding ring thrown into the bargain.
"Do you really mean it, Jake ?" said she
looking me full in tha faca.-with- -tlnsa- aa.ls
blue eyes of hers, that are like skies in the
night.
81 do really mean it, Polly" said I.
Then" said she, putting both her hands
in mine, "I'll trust you. I've no living re-
lation to advise me, so can only take counsel
with my own heart.'
So we were married. rented little two
story house, under the hill on the height that
overlooked the Hudson--a cozy place with a
good sized wood pile at the rear, for winter
meant winter in those parts, and the snow
used to be drifted up even with our door yard
fence many and many cold gray morning
And everything went smooth until Polly began
to object to my mates at the White Blackbird
and the Saturday evening | spent with the
boys, after my train was safely run on the
side track at the junction.
"Why, Polly, girl,'' said I, "where's the
harm? A man can't live by himself, like an
oyster in its shell, and social glass never yet
harmed any one.''
"No,' said Polly, "not a social glass,
Jake, but the habit. And if you would only
put every five-cent piece that you spend for
liquor into little Berries tiny savings bank"
"Pshaw ! (" said I. "I'm not drunkard,
and never mean to become one. And no
one likes to be preached to by his wife, Polly.
Remember that, my girl, and you'll save
yourself deal of trouble"
kissed her and went away. But that was
the beginning of the little, grave shadows,
that grew on my Pollys face, like creeping
fog over the hills, and that she has never got
rid of since.
1t was sore point between us-what the
politicians call a yexed question. felt that
Polly was always watching me (; and didn't
wish to be put in leading strings by woman.
Sol shame to say It'll went to the White
Blackbird oftener than ever, and didn't al
ways count the glasses of beer that drank,
and once or twice of particularly cold night,
I let myself be persuaded into drinking some
thing stronger than beer; and my brain
wasn't the kind to stand liquid fire with i'm
punity. And Polly cried, and l lost my
temper, and-well don't like to think of all
these things now. Thank goodness they're
over and gone.
That afternoon, as l stood on the back
platform of my car, with arms folded and my
eyes fixed on the snowy waste of fiat fields
through which the iron track seems to extend
itself like an endless black serpent, looked
my own life in the face. made up my mind
that had been behaving like brute,
g What are those senseess fellows at the
White Blackbird to me-" uttered |, "as COM
pared with one of Polly's sweet looks? will
give the whole thing up. I'll draw the line
just here now We shall be off duty early to-
night I'll go home and astonish Polly !"
But, as night fell, the binding drift of a
great snow storm came with it. We were be-
lated by the snow which collected on the rails,
and when We reached Earldale there was a
little girl, who had been sent ON in care OF
the conductor, who must wait either three OF
four hours for way train in the cold and
cherries station, or be taken homo across a
snowy field by some one who knew the way.
thought of my own little children. OH
take her," said land lifting her up, gath
cred my coarse, warm coat about her and
started for the long, cold walk under thu
whispering pines along the edge of the river