The Eaton Democrat. (Eaton, Ohio) 1875-1903, 1883-06-07
THE o ENGINEER.

A Mothers Story.
"The young man you met at the gate,
slrP Yes, that is my sonny boy Jack.
"You noticed the scars on his face,
sir, and thought, may be, that they
spoiled features; meant to be hand
some?
"Ah, sir! that was because you did
not knowi Why, those red marks
make him more beautiful to me now
than when, a baby in my arms, with
yellow curls and laughing eyes and a
skin like a rose-leaf, the people hurry
ing in and out of the trains would turn
to look and smile at him, and praise
him to each other, speaking low, may
be, but not too low for a mothers quick,
proud ears to hear!
'For we lived. in a little house close
by the station, and when 1 heard the
whistle of his fathers train, 1 used to
snatch the boy from his cradle, or off
the floor where he sat with his little
p~laythings, and run down to the farther
end OF the long depot, where the engine
always halted, to get the smile and
loving word that my heart lived on all
day.
"Not the least bit afraid was the baby
of all the whistling and changing of
bells, the groaning of the wheels and
putting of the steam. He would laugh
and spring SO in my arms that I could
scarcely hold him, till his father would
reach down sometimes and lift him up
into the engineers cab and kiss him
for n precious minute and then toss
him down to me again.
"When he grew a little older, he was
never playing horse or soldiers, like
the other little fellows around; it was
always a railroad train that he was
driving. All the smoothest strips out
of my billets of kindling wood went to
build tracks over the kitchen floor,
h1ther and thither, crossing and re-
crossing each other.
Don't move my switch, mother
dear? he used to cry put t o me. You'll
wreck my train for surer
$50 l had to 60 softly about my work,
with scarce a place sometimes to set
my foot. And all the chairs in the
house would be ranged for cars, the big
rocker, with the tea-bell tied to its back,
Tor the engine; and there he would sit
Perched up by the hour together, max
ing believe attend the valves and shout
ing to the fireman.
81 shall never forget the first time his
father took him to ride on the engine.
Jack had begged over and over to go,
but his father always babe him wait till
he was older. So l had said,"
"tDon't tease father M more, Jack
dear, and like the true little heart he
was, he had not said another word
about it for a matter of six months or
more.
"But that day such a wishful look
came into his face, and he pulled him
SELF up tall and straight, and said quite
softly, his voice. trembling a little,
Father, do you think 1 ain grown
enough nowP'
Looking at him, I saw two tears in
his pretty eyes. 1 think his father saw
them, too, for he turned to me in a
hurry, and said he
"'We meet the up-train at Lanston.
Mary, and VIII Brown will bring the
little chap back all straight, 1 know.
What do you say|
what could l say but yesP At sup
perfume he was back again, but he
could not eat. His eyes were like stars.
and there was a hot, red spot on each
cheek, so that l feared he would be ill.
And l had thought ne would never be
done talking, but now he said scarce a
word.
What was it like, Jackie?' I asked
him.
80 mother!' he said, it wasn't like
anything!' He sat for a minute think
ing, then he said, Unless it was like
- that you read last Sunday
81 6 a nd who uyoc That ToolrCS -l-I
for | had quite forgotten.
Don't you know, motherp' 1.-THE
wings of the wind pr =
THAT was not his last ride ON the
engine by many times for, as he grew
older, his father would take him often
Saturdays or other half-holidays.
was perfectly trusty and obedient.
L believe he would have his right hand
cut off sooner than have meddled with
anything; but he knew every valve and
screw and gauge, and watched every
turn OF his fathers hand and learned
the signals all along the line, so that
my husband said to me more than once,
"1 believe in my heart, Mary, that if
l was to be struck dead on the engine,
Jack could run her through without a
=
HE was in school and learning fast.
but out of hours he was always studying
over books about machinery and steam.
Such an odd child as he was, with
thoughts far beyond his years! Some
times, sitting here by myself, 1 go over
my mind the strange things he used
TO say to me in those days.
81 remember that one evening he had
been reading for a long time in some
book that he had got out of the public
library; but by-an-by he stopped and
leaned his head on his hand, looking
into the Goals. All at once:
Mother said he, isn't it a wonder
thing that God could trust men with
with what, Jack?'
"'With the steam-the power in it, I
mean! 1t was a long time before He
lid; But when the right time came,
somebody listened, then he told.
$50 mother!' said he, with his ewes
what must it have been to be
lanes Watt, and to listen to such a
Iecret as that?'