The Democratic advocate. [volume] (Westminster, Md.) 1865-1972, 1886-01-09
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A MOTHERS STORY.
From the Tomh's Companion.

'The young man you met at the gate
sir? eyes, that is my sonny boy
Jack.
"You noticed the scars on his face, sir
and thought, maybe, that those spoiled
features meant to be handsome?
'Ah, sir that was because you did not
know 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 skin like rose-leaf
the people hurrying in and out of the trains
would turn to look and smile at him, and
to each other, speaking low, maybe, but
not too low for mothers quick, proud
ears to hear
"For we lived in little house close by
the station, and when | heard the whistle
of his fathers train, used to snatch the
boy from his cradle, or off the floor where
he sat with his little playthings, 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 one precious minute and
then toss him down to me again
"When he grew 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 kind
ling wood went to build tracks over the
kitchen floor, hither and thither, crossing
and recrossing each other.
"'Don't move my switch, mother, dear !
he used to cry out to me. You'll wreck
my train for sure !
$50 | had to go 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, for the
engine; and there he would sit perched up
by the hour together, making believe he at
tended the valves and shouting to the fire
man.
II 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 had said:
"Don't tease father any 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 wishful look came
into his face, and he pulled himself up tall
and straight, and said, quite softly, his
voice trembling little, Father, do you
think l am grown enough nowY
"Looking at him, saw two tears in his
pretty eyes. I think his father saw them,
too. for he turned to me in hurry, and
said he:
"'We meet the up-train at Langton,
Mary, and Will Brown will bring the little
chap back all straight, know. What do
you sayY
"What could l say but yes? At sup
per-time 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 feared he would be i'll. And | had
thought he would never be done talking,
but now he said scarce word.
"'What was it like, Jackie ?" asked
him.
"Oh, motherp he said, it wasn't like
anythingr He sat for moment think
ing, then he said, Unless it was like -
that you read last Sunday
"'And what was that, Jack?' L asked
for had quite forgotten.
"sDon't you know, mother? "The
wings of the wind y
"That was not his last ride on the en-
CINE by many times, for, as he grew older,
his father would take him often on Satur-
days or other half-holidays. He was per-
fectly trusty and obedient. | believe he
would have had his right hand cut off soon
er than have meddled with anything; but
he knew every valve and screw and gauge,
and watched every turn of his father $
hand, and learned the signals all along the
line, so that my husband said to me more
than once:
"I believe in my heart, Mary, that if
| was to be struck dead on the engine,
Jack could run her through without a
break 7
"He was in school and learning fast, but
out of hours he was always poring over
books about machinery and steam. Such
an odd child as he was, with thoughts far
beyond his years Sometimes, sitting here
by myself, I go over in my mind the
strange things he used to say to me in those
days.
ssI remember that one evening he had
been reading for long time in some book
that he had got out of the public library;
but by-and-by he stopped and leaned his
head on his hand, looking into the Goals
All at once
a'Mother said he, isn't it wonderful
thing that God could trust men with it !?
"sWith what, Jack ?
asWith the steam-the power In it, L
mean 1t was long time before He did.
But when the right time came, and some
body listened, then He told
asOh, mother, said he, with his eyes
shining, what must it have been to be
James Watt, and to listen to such secret
as that?'
"In minute he spoke again;
"sAnd it's never safe to forget to listen,
because we can't know when He might
speak, or what there might be to hear