The intelligencer. [volume] (Lexington, Mo.) 1887-1891, 1890-08-16
THE DEPOT.
II Is an Anomaly in tho Way of Archi-
lecture and other Things.

1t Is an Anomaly in the Way of Arohi-
lecture and Other Things.
If there is any thing specially planned
and specially calculated to try a mans
faith in tho eternal wisdom and fitness
of all things, it is having to wait for a
train at a country railroad station.
Tho train that he is going to take Is
generally behind timo. And no is in a
hurry. All people who are going on
trains are are in a hurry.
The station is always located in the
hottest and most. uninviting place in
that part of the country. Sand is all
around it. Shade trees are unknown.
Grass, which is one of the most demo-
cratic species Of all vegetation, fights
shy Of it.
Tho station itself il an anomaly in
the way of architecture. The man who
planned tho first railway station ever
built in the country town has reason to
congratulate himself on having struck
something new under the sun. And it
was SO near perfection that no succeed
ing architect has over folt himself able
to improve upon it.
And there it stands to-day, hundreds
of 1t, all over our land as a perpetual
monument to the genius Of hat first
builder.
No blinds, no shades; the seats yellow
s~ettees, the water supply a pump before
the door, tho ornaments on tho wall
framed advertisements of steamship
! lines, and "Fizzleton's Great Soap Dis
covery;' and the flies are there in full
force to cheer tho heart of tho weary
waiter, and make him feel that though
the world may frown on him in other
places, here he is welcomed!
The ticket Office is generally closed,
which proves that tho official in charge
is a wise man. He knows better thar
to wear out his precious life dancing be-
fore that window, looking for travellers
who never come to buy tickets.
lie takes his rest on the shady side Of
tho house, on a ~settee, with a cigar and
a novel to help him take 1t easy. He is
a philosopher, and indeed he needs to
be. since no other man could survive a
month of life at a country railroad sta
ton.
He has his little diversions, no doubt.
When the Sunday-school picnic starts
out, and when the circus comes to the
| utAI IOWu, anu WHbH SOIlb luTuibr \ COW
is run over and killed, and the people
round about drop in to talk it over, and
speculate on whether or not the owner
of the animal is likely to get damages.
But the man who is waiting for a train
has none OF these little interests to
cheer him. When he has read the ad-
vertisments on the walls and looked up
and down the track, and peered at his
glowering image in the cracked looking
glass, and looked twenty times at his
watch, and the same number of times at
the timetable, he is ready to give his
kingdom for the sound of a locomotive
whistle.
And the old woman who comes in with
her bundles, and the young woman who
comes in with her crying baby, are well
come as the flowers in spring. He never
before realized how entertaining a cry
ing baby might be under some circum-
stances. Something to look at - some-
thing to listen to.
He studies the old woman's bonnet,
and he counts the buttons on the baby's
cloak, and he wonders what is in tho big
bundle, and what Is in the little box, and
then no looks at his watch again, and
compares it with the clock, and finds tho
clock has been stopped an hour, at the
least calculation.
By and by the ticket-seller comes
leisurely in and opens his little window
o, what an encouraging sound it isl
sweeter than music to the ears OF the
weary waiter. He rushes up and gets
his ticket. Then he sits down and reads
it all over. He never dreamed that a
railroad ticket could be such interesting
reading. He has never before looked
upon that sort Of literature as worthy OF
notice. Well, circumstances alter cases,
and you do not know what you might be
driven to consider as entertainment I'M
til you have waited for a train at some
country railroad station.-Kate Thorn,
In n Y Waaklu