The Roanoke times. [volume] (Roanoke, Va.) 1890-1895, 1895-04-12
A BRAKEMAN'S STORY.
The Tragic End Of Happy
Young Life.

the long freight train would come to a
standstill with an abrupt. awkward
jerk we could almost hear the big,
drifting flakes as they fell. Not a
breath of air was stirring and the big.
round moon filtered down through the
snowstorm with white, softened
light that revealed nearby objects in
q strange, ghostly sort of way. The
soft-coul fire that spluttered fitfully in
the old-fashioned cast iron upright
stove lacked cheer enough to break
the spell of the outside air. Without
knowing precisely why, we sat mostly
in silence or muttered an occasional
monosyllablic observation as to how
soon we might reach Jersey City. We
were four hours behind time and
somewhere back Of us we knew wns
the West Shore express, likewise be-
hind time and cndeavoring to make up
something of it's lost run
Sitting in the little red caboose in
the rear of the big freight train, rum
bling along through 4 blind fog of
snow with a flying express at our
heels gave an uncanny sensation that
l, for one, did not relish in the least.
The drummer who had boarded the
train at Ncwburg sat moroscly on
pile Of grips, which afforded him
softer seat than the hard, wooden
benches strung along the sides of the
car a couple of shippers anxiously
their stock to market without having
them half frozen to death.
At the entrance of Joe. the brake
man, however, the glum little party
seemed to thaw at once. lie swung
down off the roof of the last box car
and in through the door in a CHEEKY,
wholesome sort of fashion that
warmed'us at once.
Joe" said one of the shippers, "bc
we going TO reach jersey City afore
Christmas?" ''.,
Isn't this good enough for you to
live in? How'd you like to be out
bral5ing to-night?"
"Tain't no snap. that's fact" the
shipper asscntcd.
No, you bet it amt" said Joe, de-
cisivcly but this amt patching to
what it is sometimes"
Something in the manner in which
Joe carefully filled his cob pipe, took
d
into the fire and lit his pipe slowly and
thoughtfully, indicated that story
was coming.
Strange" said Joe Mt last, with
ruminant look into the fire and a long,
steady pull at his pipe, somehow to-
night reminds me of n day two years
ago. That was when we brought
Johnny laines home. Guess you must
"a known Johnny" he added, turning
to the shipper.
Nope. Heard of him. Go on, Joe.
What was the storyp"
mot much of one" Joe replied,
deprccatingly. Just braleeman's
yarn, only it's little out of the COM
mon run. The first day ever saw
Johnny Haines ! thought he was
about the handsomest lad over set
eyes on. He came up on No. on her
first trip. We used to meet often up
and down the road and got to know
each other pretty we'll. He was one
Of these lads with fresh, pink and
white complexion and jolly laugh
that made you warm up TO him at
once. He was straight and strong,
and when he used to stand jauntily
on top of the car, the train going forty
miles an hour and he not seeming to
think it was moving at all, there
wasn't girl along the road that
hadn't smile for him rs he went by.
The lad was anxious to stick and
worked hard, and, rs he kept his
mouth shut pretty close, it was n long
time before we found out anything
about who he was. He had little ways
about him that made us think once in
awhile that he hadn't been brought
up to work, and his hands at first
were as soft and white as girls.
One of the fellows told us a story of
how johnny belonged to good fam
lily. but got kicked out for some rca-
son or other but we always thought
he mnln Ii IN and II, foot no raara,.