The Dickinson press., 1891-05-09

The pet name of "Baby Jack" no longer
trembled upon his mothers lips. She
called him instead "My son" my boy" or
else twas "Mother's man" So is the
heart wont to clothe with strength that
which it leans upon.
She trusted him entirely, and his quick
mind recognized it.
The prohibition no longer confined him
to the wood-pile, but every morning when
the whistle sounded the cottage door
would open, the gate click and a pair of
bright stockings flash for a moment in the
sunlight as a pair of nimble legs went
hurrying down to the platform.
"Pies! pies! fresh pies and cakes"'he had
turned to peddler. Such a tiny industrious
little peddler as he was, too, and with so
many rough-bearded, warm hearted friends
among the trainmen Jacks business was
bound to flourish.
One day the red stockings went dancing
down the platform with unusual speed, so
fast. indeed, that his mother, who was fol-
lowing, had scarcely reached the platform
when No. 8 pulled up, and engineer Rob-
inson dropped from his engine and caught
the boy in his arms and tossed him up to
the fireman.
"Catch the little engineer, Sam" he
shouted, ave promised to let him run No.
6 today"
There was a happy little laugh and then
a vision of golden curls at the window.
"Mother, mother! Can you spare me a
whole dayT
She smiled and nodded.
"II come back at $40" (the wheels be-
gan to turn,) "and the wood is in, mother"
(the train was moving,) ''and the kind
ling"-the rattle of the cars drowned his
%voice-"box full") how the steam roared!)
| Not a word of what he was saying could
reach her now, but he talked on, and when
the steam ceased to roar and the tram
glided smoothly out he leaned from the
window. "Good-by, mother"
She heard and waved her hand. And
then Engineer Robinson pulled him to look
at some roasted chestnuts the train-hitcher
had sent up to him.
1t was a wonderful ride to the boy, who
never ceased to wonder at the proud old
engine and its magnificent strength.
But for all the pleasure and freedom
there was a shadow on the boyish face,
which neither the good things nor the
wonderful stories which Engineer Robin
son brought to his entertainment could
quite dispel.
He would climb up to the engineers vel
vet cushion and lean his elbow on the
window-sill, and, dropping his cheek into
his hand, fall to dreaming, while he
watched the clouds or the trees fitting by.
Once the train stopped to wait for a de-
layed freight, and the engineer spoke to
the boy sitting silent at the window.
Hello. Jackw! he said. "You're not
asleep, are you? Engineers can't sleep,
sir; remember that. Whatever other folk
may do, he's got to keep his eyes OPEN"
Jacks eyes filled as he looked at his old
friend.
ayes, sir" he said. "that's just what
father used to say"
Engineer Robinson turned to look out
at the other window down the track, the
straight, t%reacherous track along which
poor Jack Conner had Travelled to eternity.
The boy was at the other window.
Young Jack talked on, softly but dis
tinctly.
"And father said, the night they brought
him home, sir, he said: Every man may
jump but the engineer-the engineer must
stick to the engine.' And he said. father
said, away off it seemed to me, like you
try to speak when the steam's a-sizzing
sir; he said: Stick to the engine, and
stand by your mother, jack And I've
been a-thinking, Mr.. Robinson"-the engi-
neer leaned further out, the sleeves of his
blue overalls brushed his face, while Jack
talked on.
"l've been a-thinking all day as maybe l
ought not to have left her by herself a
whole day."
The engineer answered without turning
his head:
ooh, she's all right, Jack; she's SAFE" L.
salpieaB ut y9a knoMsw OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES
MISUNDERSTANDING ssSSfsfeiS VI