The Union times. [volume] (Union, S.C.) 1894-1918, 1896-07-10


i~/ y - or hazelnut is. The
- ~ kind Of lite I lead
can't be lived IN white kid gloves and
dress coats. wasn't brought up with
many advantages, and I'm only q
brakeman on tho Rensselaer, and Sara
toga line. Old Jones was telling you
about me, was he, sir? He'd better
hold his tongue. There's moro profit
able subjects of conversation than
am. But old Jones means well enough,
and if he told you to ask me how that
stripe of white hair came on my black
name, amt tho man to go back on
him. Oh, you needn't beg my par
don, sir! l don't mind talking about
it now, though the time was when I
couldn't speak of it without big
lump coming in my throat.
We hadn't been married long, Polly
and I, when it happened. Polly was
as trim and bright eyed slip of girl
as ever you'd wish to see. She was
one of the mattresses in the Albany
lunch room and the first time ever
set eyes upon her made up my mind
to make that girl my wife. So, when
they raised my wages, I took heart
and asked her if she would have them
with me, with wedding ring thrown
into the bargain.
"Do you really mean it, Jake % said
she, looking me fully in the face, with
those dark blue eyes of hers, that are
like stars in the night.
81 do really mean it, Polly" said I.
''Then," said she, putting both her
hands into mine, "I'll trust you. I've
no living relative to advise me, so I
can only take counsel with my heart. :"
So We were married. l rented
little one.story house, under the hill
outhe height that overlooked the Hud-
son-a cosey place, with good sized
wood pile at the rear, for winter
meant winter in those parts, and the
snow used to be drifted up even with
our dooryard fence many and many a
cold gray morning. And everything
went smooth until Polly began to OBJ.
ject to my mates at the White Black
bird. and the Saturday evenings
spent with the boys, after my train
was safely run on the eidetrack at the
junction.
"Why. Polly, girl" said I. ."where's
the harm? A man can't live by him.
self like on oyster in its shell. and q
social glass never yet harmed any.
one."
"No." said Polly, "not c social
glass, Jake, but the habit. And if you
would only put every FIVE cent piece
that you spent for liquor into our lit
tie Bertie's tiny eavings bank"
"Pshaw!" said /. 81 am not a
drunkard, and never mean to become
one. And no one likes to be preached
to by his wife. Polly. Remember that,
my g:rl. and you'll save yourself a
deal of trouble"
kissed her and went away, but
that was the beginning of the little
grave shadows that grew upon my
Polly's face like q creeping fog over
the hills, and that she has never got
rid of since.
1t was a sore point between us
what the politicians call vexed ques.
tion. felt that Polly was always
watching me; and I didn't wish to be
put in leading strings by woman. So
Il shame to say i'll went to the
White Blackbird oftener than ever,
and / didn't often count the glasses Of
beer that drank, and once or twice,
of particularly cold night, I let my
self be persuaded into drinking some.
thing stronger than beer; and my
brain wasn't the kind that could stand
liquid fire with impunity. And Polly
cried, and I lost my temper. and
well, don't like to think Of all these
things now. Thank goodness, they are
over and gone.
That afternoon, as I stood on the
back platform OF my car, with my
arms folded and my eyes fixed on the
snowy waste of fiat fields through
which the iron track seemed to extend
itself like an endless black serpent,
looked my own life in the face. l
made up my mind that had been be-
having like brute.
''What are those senseless fellows ut
the White Blakbird to me-" muttered
l, Gas comprred with one of Polly's
sweet, bright looks? 1 will give tho
whole thing up. I'll draw the line
just here now. We shall be off duty
early tonight. I'll go home and as
tonish Polly"
But as night fell, the binding drift
of great snow storm came with it.
We were belated by the snow which
collected on the rails, and whom we
reached Earldale there was little
girl, who had been sent on in the care
OF the conductor, who must wait either
three or four hours for way train in
the cold and cherries station. or be
taken home across n snowy field by
somo one who knew the way.
| thought of my own little children.
'l'll take her" said land lifting her
ur, | gathered my coarse, warm coat
about her, and | started for the long,
cold walk under the whispering pines
along the edge of the river.
| honestly believe she wOu1l boy,