The Bennington banner. [volume] (Bennington, Vt.) 1858-1894, 1889-09-05
DUSSK

: vast rolling prairies Of the North West,
: more absolutely lonely spot than that
/ on which stood the Cranberry Greek tel
{ egraph cabin of the Buffalo and MIssls-
: sippi River railroad. 1t was located
, right in the heart of the dense forests of
! Putnam County, Ohio, and is even to-
day, miles removed from habitation of
any kind, to say nothing about towns
and villages.
A good many freight trains pass the
, cabin each day, but they usually rattle
by Cranberry Greek without stopping
} though once in a great while it is found
necessary to hold the "local," or sec
} tion of freight train, for orders The
: cabin itself was an old box car, set at
the side of track and painted bright
red, so that the engineers might see it
long distance off. 1t was partitioned
into two compartments, one end being
the office and the other end the bOudOir
of Joe Denman, the operator.
Some eight or nine years ago on a
Sunday afternoon, in summer time, Joe
took his armchair out and planted it
between the cabin and the track. Then
he planted himself in the chair, tilted it
back against the red wall of his cabin
and commenced to read the weekly pa
per which Ben Bolton, the conductor of
the "local," always left at Cranberry
Creek on each recurring Saturday even
ing.
For a man who could not cross his
legs (Joe only had one, having lost the
other when he was brakeman) our
friend made himself as comfortable as
circumstances would permit, and as it
was pleasant enough day Joe Denman
was fairly well contented and happy,
Inside the cabin could be heard the
ceaseless "click, click, clicketty, click"
of the little hammer on the telegraph
table, as messages flew over the circuit
of wire that included Cranberry Creek.
But Joe was such an old-timer with
the "ticker" that he could read and even
whistle and talk, when there was any
one to talk to, and still answer promptly
enough when he was called by the train
dispatcher or by some operator a hun
dred miles away.
As he unfolded his newspaper he
glanced up and down the track. he
could see nothing but the deserted rail-
road, cut like deep, narrow swath
through the thick forest To the East
and to the West nothing was visible but
the two lines of gittering steel rails
and sky blended in the hszy distance.
1t seemed so lonesome that Joe was
really grateful to the white post few
yards away, on which he saw in black
characters, &C, 255," for he was remind
ed then that Chicago at least was only
255 miles distant.
Joe read on for more than an hour,
and was 80 engrossed in clever editor
ial that he started almost out of his
chair when he felt the sleeve of his coat
gently pulled, while baby voice said,
sweetly enough, "Hello p
The operator dropped his paper to
gaze upon little child-a girl-perhaps
four or five years DID, She was very
pretty, with soft, plump cheeks and
hands and with hair that was more
white than golden-it was 80 very fair.
The little one was evidently the child of
poor people, for her tiny dress was OF
cotton, her shoes, so dusty, were of the
cheapest kind, and her large straw hat
was untrimmed.
"Hello T. she said again, with sweet
baby smile, and with as much confidence
as if she had known the operator all her
short life,
"Why, bless my soul !" exclaimed Joe,
who was more surprised than he had
been when he fell under the wheels
years before. But Joe, old bachelor and
hermit as he was, loved little children
and ,yas a kind 1he;atted. .fellaY, -. y.v,.
from ?" he asked the child, as he gently
as he sat her on his one knee, and with
his red bandanna handkerchief wiped
the thick dust off the little shoes.
THAT way" she answered promptly
pointing her chubby fingers to the West.
But Joe was puzzled. He knew there
was no house within four miles in that
direction.
"What is the baby's name ?" asked
Joe.
"Dissy."
SISSY ?" repeated Joe, imagining that
he could interpret baby language very
nicely.
"'Es, m" said the child, shaking her
head-"Dissy.
And in all the years that followed Joe
Denman never learned the history of the
baby girl nor where she came from on
that summer Sunday afternoon, He
had to remain satisfied that her name
was Dissy, and the only reasonable or
probable explanation of the strange
name came once from a tramp book
agent, who suggested that it might pos
sibly be an abbreviation of Eurydice.
For Joe, the operator, took fancy to
the little waif, and, as there was no law,
or even rule of the railroad, to prevent
him, he decided 10 adopt the tiny, fair
haired-stranger. He was so generous
that he gave up his private apartment
to Miss Dssy, and himself slept on a cot
in the telegraph office,
kor
and according to Joe Denman's c&lcula-
tions, Dissy must have been well nigh
twelve years old. She was so old that,
although it gave Joe's heart a big and
painful wrench when he thought about
it, tie operator had made up his mind
that he must send the girl to good
school, where she would have all the
benefits of an education and womanly
training. But as yet he had said moth
ing of his plans to the girl herself.
One afternoon in the fall of the year
Dissy sat alone in the barely-furnished
telegraph Office. for Joe and his crutch
had gone away with man who had
begged him to show him to stave fac
tory, three miles back in the woods.
StrIckly, Joe should not have left his
cabin, but Dissy was as good telegraph
girl did not mind in the least being left
alone for an hour or so. .
1t was a dreary afternoon and getting
very near evening, and Dissy had begun
to feel exceedingly lonely, Even the
enormous, many colored poster that
on the wall of the room, proclaimed in |
startling language the many good quail |
ties of the Buffalo and Mississippi Riyer |
Railroad, did not cheer her very much.
THE Silver Lining Route" she read
rather disdainfully, and thought to her.
self "Well the Cranberry Creek clouds |
don't have silver linings." Again she
read Crowds patronize 1t daily" and
in her mind she added, 1.-THE crowds all
leave the cars before they reach this part |
of the road, for ! don't see one new face
day."
Dissy evidently had a fit of 'the
blues, and yet she did not intend in the
least to be ungrateful to her good and |
kind friend Joe. She was a smart, clever |
girl and ambitious. She had read many |
stories and biographies Of good and no
BILE girls who had become great and |
grand women. Many time the warm
blood had coursed quickly through her
veins as che read Of the thrilling deeds
done by such women as Elizabeth Fry |
and Florence Nightengale, and even by
girls like Grace Darling and Joan of
Arc. Dissy wondered If any of them
would have been herOines If they had |
been banished to such dull and Out-of
the-way corner as Cranberry Creek,
Ohio.
Even as she speculated thus the door
was opened and heavy football sound
ed on the threshold. Dissy looked
around to behold tall and powerful