Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1885-04-25
THE WASHER.
PLAN WHICH DOES NOT SUCCEED IN
ALL CASES.

There is one problem in life that /
have never been able to solve, al
though it has always interested me
somewhat. I never was able to I'M
derstand how man could have the
cheek to strike up an acquaintance
with a lady, on a train for instance,
unless the lady gave him some ex-
cuse on which to begin converse
ton with. What puzzled me was
how he could begin such converse
ton. / believe / might be able my
self to worry along with converse
ton with a stranger if somebody,
started it for me, or if she asked
something about the country we
were passing through, but to have
that diplomacy necessary to break
the ice and deliberately commence a
casual acquaintance is feat that ]
have always feltis far beyond me. /
have gone long and lonesome rail
way journeys just because of this
defect in my character. / have seen
a young man come into car in.
which l had ridden hundred miles
and before we had passed the next
mile post he was sitting beside the
best looking girl in the train as if
they were old friends | have often
wondered how it was done. / Won
dered how he began it. That was
always what bothered me. l never
was on hand at the commencement.
Perhaps this is why ! have such an
unreasonable dislike of the 'masher.
I have a hatred of him that no doubt
springs from the consciousness that
I am unready, awkward, don't say
the right thing at the right time,
and also because he is so much bet
ter looking than l am. Now, take
an elderly lady-a woman with bun
dies and uncertainties-the you
ought to see my good qualities shine
forth. l help her ON the train, / run
back to the waiting-room to see if
she really has lost the box she miss
es, find seat for her and | give
her all the information | have and
ask the conductor for more. But
when it comes to the handsome girl,
the masher gets ahead of me there.
To return to my text, how is this
sort Of "chance acquaintance" struck
up?
/ found out how it was done in a
recent trip on the Grand Trunk to
Portland, Me.
One of the brakemen ON our train
was very handsome fellow. He
shouted the names of the stations in
fine bass voice, and between times
he admired himself and fixed his era
vat at the looking glass set at an an
Gle at the end of the car. At Cor
ham, a very pretty girl came on and
took seat near the center of the
car. The two brakemen generally
met at my end Of the car and sat to-
gether, on q seat just before me.
When the train began to slow up,
the commonplace brakeman went to
the rear car while the masher walk
ed gracefully down the long aisle
and twice shouted the name of the
station we were approaching; then
he went out, put his head in the for
ward car, and we heard the faint
echo Of the name once more. Before
the train stopped he was on the plat
form, his right hand on the hand
rail, trotting along with the slowing
train. He helped out any passen-
gers who required assistance; some
times danced a few steps while the
train waited, kept his hands in his
pockets and let our car pass him
with that unconcern railway man
sees train move on while you or
would break our necks trying to
catch it, and finally swung himself
ON the rear car with an easy, unruf-
fled motion that shows perfect IA
miliarity that can never be acquired
by man not on the road.