Evening capital journal. (Salem, Or.) 1888-1893, 1890-03-27
A TRAIN EPISODE.
Leaves nom the Notebook Of q
Commercial Traveller.
A Poor Dakota Farmers Adventures on .
Railroad Train-Tho Drummer at His
Best-Recovcry OF Lost
Mileage Ticket.

Ihad been engaged by the house as stock
clerk only a few weeks, writes o corre-
spondent Of the American Commercial
Traveller, when one day the head of the
firm came to me and said: "Well, Mr..
Blank, how would you like to 20 out on the
roadW "Firstrate," said l. 81 have not
had any experience, but think can get
along; any way, should like to try it." So
it was agreed that i should make my first
trip the next week. How looked forward
to that day when l should pick up my
grip" and launch out into the world a full
fiedged travellng-man. My headquarters
were at st. Paul, and for that town put
out just as the sun was sinking one bright
day in the monthof July. A large NUMBER
Of my newly joined brothers were on bard
the train, laughing and joking, as 1 after
ward found out, as only traveling-men can.
1t was just dark when the tram stopped at
little depot some eighty miles from the
place where / started. A number Of
passengers got on and of. Among the ln-
comers was an old man carrying an
old-fashioned carpet-bag in one hand
and a round parcel in the other. He
seated himself just opposite to where was
sitting, and gazed around with a bcwlldered
look. 1t was quite evident that he was not
accustomed to this mode of travel Pres
Tickets, please; get your tickets ready"
The old gentleman starts, blank look
comes in his face, his trembling hand is
thrust first into one pocket, then another.
The carpet-bag is opened and searched thor
oughly. The little round package is opened
but reveals nothing but adry loaf of Vienna
bread. Pockets are searched again, but to
no avail; he has | st his ticket. The con-
ductor passes on, promising to come around
again. A travelling man steps up to the
now PROSTATE form, and, patting him on
the back, asks his story. The perspiration
stood on the old mans brow. his eyes were
wet with tears, and amid sobs he told his
story. He was Dakota farmer; his par
onts had both died one'weeS ago that day.
He was telegraphed to come, but could
not raise money enough to pay car
fare-a distance of about 1000
miles, including return. A travelling sales
man who knew him 10 be poor but honest
man had said to HIM: "Here, take my mile
age book; go and bury your father and
mother, and when you return give me back
The book and pay me for what you use
whenever you can" Thus it was that the
Did man was enabled 10 see his father and
mother before they were laid away. This,
which was 2,000mile book, was the one he
lost. He had sixty cents in his pocket, a
ioaI OF ury vienna Dread by his side, q Wits
and SIX children at home, 900 miles away,
and no ticket. This was the story which
touched the heart of the travelling man.
"I'll subscribe five dollars, boys,r said the
newly-made brother. 80 will l." said an
other, and in five minutes thirty-four dol
lars, taken from the pockets of travelling
statesmen, was handed to the old man
to pay his fare and keep what was over.
He could not thank his rescuers-his heart
was too full; great tears rolled down his
cheek and his head was hung with the
thought that he was now dependent upon
charity. The conductor returned for his
fare, and humbly the poor old man was
rendering him the monev when his eyes fell
on something on the moor. IL was the mlle-
age book. With yell he bounded down on
1t. ''Thank God, am saved from charity.
Sir, oh sir, here is your money. / have
,ound my ticket" and the glistening eyes
shone like fire. He could not be prevailed
upon to take the money nor could he pour
blessings enough upon the heads of his
newly found friends.
The money was finally handed back to the
contributors and the last we saw of the old
gentleman from Dakota he was sitting in
the smoking-car, happy as king, Willing
away the hours with a loaf of dry Vienna
bread