St. Johnsbury Caledonian. [volume] (St. Johnsbury, Vt.) 1867-1919, 1882-04-28

love me, prOUe yourself a man. 1t does
not take battlefield to make a hero
Prove yourself man. These
were the words that haunted me in the
weeks that followed, saving me from
the ruin | would else have drifted into,
but tOrturing me with their hopeless
ness. What hope had in my daily
routine of duty of changing Mary's
mind ? Yet, spite of her words, some
thing in her eye had told me that she
loved me, and that something gave me
strength to live, and to withstand the
daily temptations of my life.
$50 six months passed, when one
morning | mounted my engine to take
the express train to c.. We were
going along at the rate of thirty miles
an hour, when suddenly, right ahead
of us, it seemed, a tiny speck of red
tiuttered on the the track.
IL strained my eyes-I blew my
whistle. What could it be2 Merciful
heaven! Another instant and it was
made clear to me. 1t was little gold
en-haired child, playing in the
very face of the huge monster of death
my hand was guiding to its destruction.
~ whistled down brakes but, as l
did so, knew that it was of no avail.
Before the order could be Obeyed, it
would be rendered useless. Then
something within me said:
'YOur life is worthless. Give it for
that innocent life if it must be, but
save it at the risk of your own. Had
you been better man, you might have
had little child like that praying for
you at home
''It takes long time, sir, to tell all
this, but in reality not one second had
passed. At such times men think
quickly. One bitter sigh rose in
my breast. | would never have IL
chance of proving to Mary my man
hood by some great deed in the future,
or long years of penance. But it did
not make my duty any the less clear.
Bill, the fireman, was behind me.
"'Take the engine !" | screamed to
him. Goodbye Mary | whispered
to myself.
"The next minute, hardly conscious
of what | was doing, | was down upon
the cOw-catcher of the train, clinging
by one hand, the other Outstretched to
grasp the child now paralyzed with
terror. Then we were upon it. 1t
was killed, crushed, mangled. No! |
looked down. 1t was safely held with
one strong arm, its red dress fluttering
in the wind, its golden head close press
ed against my shoulder. How was it
dOneP | cannot tell you sir. God, they
say does not let the sparrow falls.
tThe train checked its speed, stop
ped, the passengers came crOwding
about us, men grasped me by the hand,
women cried over me, and | stood dds-
ed, belCildered, i'll their midst, the child
tight-held in my arms. 1t was such Il
simple thing; yet, sir, they gave me
this" throwing back his coat, and
showing a gold medal.
81 wear it in thanksgiving for the
little life | saved. They raised for
me purse of gold to Il large amount,
but the gift which seemed to cleanse
my heart was the poor mothers CRATE
ful tears.
"The papers rang, next day, with
the story. GOu see, sir, it seemed more
to them, looking at it, than to me, who
had no time to stop and think; but
something more was in store for me.
| was off duty, the next night i'll my
lonely and deslate room, thinking it all
over, when some one whispered my
name. In another moment, some one
was sobbing i'll my arms-sOme one
who had come to me of her own sweet
will-some one who, from that mo-
ment has been the sunshine of my
home and heart.
"That is all, sir. 1t is a simple sto-
ry. | trust have not tired you"
But |, as | grasped the noble fellows
hand whose speech had so unconscious
ly betrayed the grand true heart within,
could only echo his Mary's words:
at does not take battlefield to
make hero"