Cottonwood report. [volume] (Cottonwood, Idaho) 1893-1901, 1893-03-17
.tCome. 40. read up a bit.


l sent some money home,
To show my mother that the boy
Was true, if he did roam.
Dear tender heart, she never
dreamed
How hard the hands were now,
She never thought the western
winds
Had burned the boyish brow.
SometimesI used to think I'll quit
And go back home to school,
And be a fine young gentleman,
Poor, little homesick fool;
Then up would start whistle,
Perhaps at dead OF night,
Or a train would whizz around
curve,
I'd see an engine light;
And then | knew the work was
mine,
Rough, dirty but mine still,
And | loved it better than my
books,
So / worked on with d will,
Two solid years; promotion came,
The supe walked round one day
And said in careless fashion,
(Nou know his easy way,)
"Why don't you visit mother
And make her kind heart light;
You have earned a short vacation
And I'll set the matter right"
My heart, boys, went to humping
Like an engine under steam,
And l said, "Why, sir, I'd like to,
And it may seem close and mean,
But I've set my heart on knowing
My business thro' and thro';
And being just promoted,
I'll wait, with thanks to you;
And she will understand it, a
She knows I'd give my hand
To see her, heaven bless her,
Oh, yes, she'll understand,
And you, don't think me heartless
For some day, when ] can,
I'll make home out here, sir;
1 mood her, boy and man.
The supe turned off abruptly.
| thought him rather vexed.
Why should he count me i'll his
plans?
| own | was perpleXed,
Still | kept on, worked harder,
And waited; sometimes blue,
But always cheered by mother;
The supe seemed sulky, too
| ran my train at night then,
Meeting the through express
At the bend below New Faribo,
A hard trip, confess,
You know what storms are here,
boys,
How snow comes down so thick,
1t buries all your landmarks
And hides trees like a stick;
All up and down the line, boys,
No worse spot than the bend,
Where snow piles up like noun
tains,
Or houses stood GA end,
They have a snow-shed now there
Since that winter long ago,
But must hurry up my talk,
You'll think m running slow
That night the Fix. had stuck in
fast,
In monster bank Of snow,
And we were moving slowly down
Gunsl how the wind did blow,
And how that snow was binding.
And flying, here and there;
The tiremen they were swearing
My brakemen in despair.
1t was Christmas Eve, you see,
boys,
And one freman's coat was fat
With presents for his sweetheart.
Below us at North Platte:
No use, he could not zee her,
Fast fell that driving snow,
And climbed upon the engine
; And covered all below.
We could hear the engine snort.
ing
, On the "Ex." below the bend
We knew she'd struck big one
But could not 90, or send.
My train was freight, two engines
And short of help that night
Poor boys, they had a bitter tinlt
Keeping their fires ali9ht,
D For hours we backed and butted
Tried every trick, you know
. But still we ran against a hill
t OF white, unyielding snow
1t cleared at midnight, giving Il,
A better chance to fight,
l And, boys, | never in my life
Shall see a grander sight
: lie was beautiful to watch it,
When we struck in fair an,
: square,
And sent the flakes like fountain,
High in the winter air
t 1t fell likeepray around us,
And | wished that ] could mallt
a picture OF that midnight seen,
For the dear motker's sake.
a, had little time for beauty
? For Our fuel would not last.
4 And we were helpless in thedrift