Waterbury evening Democrat., 1888-01-16
MIDNIGHT ON THE DOCKS.
SHADOWS COME AND VANISH LIKE
 GHOSTS IN THE DARKNESS.

SHADOWS COME AND VANISH LIKE |
 GHOSTS IN THE DARKNESS. The Lonely Life of Dock watchmen and |
 the Queer Ways of the Remarkable |
 Characters Who Frequent the Docks |
 After Dark.
 A sharp nor'wester had driven the watch | men of the North river docks to their stoves and shelter, while pale moon illuminated the desolate scene outside, deepening the somber shadows around On the pier at the foot of West Twenty-sxth street a reporter approached the wharf buildings, and peered in at window through which light was shining. In the room, seated in an arm- chair, uniformed, his cap on his head, lam tern close beside him, was the watclman. A sharp rap on the door startled him, and instinctively he seized the lantern and came out.
 As tho reporter withdrew the watchman held his lantern high up in the air and peered around at tho naass of timber and rubbish, then closed the door and returned to hia shelter
 At an adjoining wharf canal bargo swaycd gently on the waves Attracted by a cheerful light which shone from its cabin window, tho reporter went toward it. Tho room was tasoefully furnished with the ordi- nary comforts of chamber. It was suits of apartments gathered together in space about nine feet square. A kettle boiled cheefily on the small stove in one corner, a mirror in gilt frame hung from the ceiling, marine chronos decorated the walls, little white curtains adorned the windows, and a canary fluttered about in cage hanging in tho center of the cabin. The reporter tapped on the window, and a | thin, lanky boy who was whittling beside the stove got up, thrust his nose against the win dow pane, then climbing the companion way | raised the hatch and appeared head and shoulders above the cabin. A few inquiries l developed the fact that the barge was named | Mary Jane, and that she carried lumter up | the Erie canal
 "Are you all alone on boardr He replied with a slow nod of the head. "Are you tho captain!' 'Naw, dads gono ashoor," he answered slowly. Just then the head of a wo nan ap- peared beside the boy and a whispered con- l ference c1sued.
 "Aro you the captains wife, madam!' l asked tho reporter.
 ''I reckon so," replied the woman angrily, l "but what do you want to know for! Suth- in's wrong, guess" and pained ex oression passed over her face as she looked with long ing eyes toward the lights and the city in the l distance. In spite of assurances, her anxiety aroused by the questions asked became | greater.
 | ''Now if suthin's wrong, why don't ye tell me!' she pleaded. 'I know suthin's the mat ter. I'm sure on it! Why don't ye tell me''
 What is wrongs' asked the reporter.
 ''Wcll, ye sec my husband went ashore this | morcin' 'specting to return at noon, and he | aint back yet"
 | r. f, S,.- woman was inconsolable, and refused to an- swer any. The reporter withdrew, leaving tho two figures outlined against the sky-the wife looking anxiously toward the city, the boy watching the lights on the river, while the cabin within was desolate.
 On the Wilson line steamship docks a little man leaned lazily up against post, putting huge clouds of tobacco from pipe and gag ing solemnly at the boards
 Pretty quiet around herel" said the re- porter.
 "Yes. Somethin' like a graveyard to- night" replied the man in deep, sepulchral voice, his eyes still fixed on the ground. "I was watchin' the rats scamperin' about there. H'm! They're havin' high old time to- night; none of the mems workin' ye see, and they're undisturbed."
 A stout, muscular man clothed in pea- jacket and sou'wester, sauntered slowly up and down the dock, humming the ''Girl left behind mo" in gruff, unmusical voice.
 ''Wuz that two bells, mater he inquired of the solemn individual.
 ''One bell, replied the watchman.
 "Good night for suicidesT' suggested the reporter.
 "Yes, or even O murder" continued tho watchman, gloomily. 'sTheres been many an accident and much loss of life happened | around here night times"
 "Do you generally attempt O rescue!"
 "Of course we do. Who else would if we didn'ts You see we're so used to it that we understand all the sounds and noises around here We can tell the difference between a dash of the wave and the splash of a suicide. Why, I could detect the slightest footstep in any part of this dock. Do you hear that?"
 A low, plaintive sound like the moan of some one in distress echoed near by. ''Now, that sounds like groan, but it aint; it's the : wind There, hear that. That's the side of some ship scratchin' alongside the wharf Some time ago a soloon keeper had trouble
 with his wife He took duckin', and when we fished him out he thanked us, took q car ! and went home. No one was the wiser 'cept-
 ing ourselves. Pretty women-tramps, broken
 down bankers, lovers, buns, all kinds, drops over the side here into the river at night, and
 we generally fishes 'em out"
 sDon't you report these cases to the
 polices'
 ssWc ain't obliged to, cause we ain't officers
 of tho law. Then we don't often see q police
 man above Fourteenth street. It's too quiet for lem, I guess
 Schooners and small craft were anchored alongside the wharves, while lights shone | from the cabin windows and their columns { of smoke poured from the small chimneys ou the barges. Attracted by light which hung
 from short mast drifting about in the wind
 the reporter walked to the end of wharf
 and found canal boat lying few yard:
 from the end A solitary man paced tho : deck cndcavoring in every way to dodge th;
 cold wind. In reply to inquiries as 10 what was On board the man shouted in answer: ''Nuthin. I'm light" ''Going to start."
 !, ssYes, in half an hour; waitin' for steam , tug now"
 Two rough looking men were walking ofo,r l., tl,a daT,y.ast rortion of fha road ano