The Opelousas courier., 1896-08-15

TVS e.; e.: : i: :: Fl; #: '$ E ; ; e;
can't be lived in white kid gloves and
dress coats. I wasn't brought up with
many advantages, and I'm only q
brakeman on the Rensselaer, and Sara
toga line. Old Jones vas telling you
about me, was he, sir? He'd better
hold his tongue. There's more profit
able subjects of conversation than l
am. But old Jones means we'll enough,
and if he told you to ask me bow that
stripe of white hair came On my black
name, I amt the man to go back on
him. Oh, you needn't beg my par
don, SIT! I don. mind talking about
it now, though the time was when I
couldn't speak of it without a 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 a slip of girl
a ever you'd wish to see. She was
one of the mattresses in the Albany
lunch room ; and the first time l ever
set eyes upon her I made up my mind
to make that girl my wife. So, when
they raised my wages, l took heart
and asked her if she would have them
with me, with a wedding ring thrown
into the bargain.
"Do you really mean it, Jake?"s 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, s.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. [ rented a
little one.story house, under the hill
y the height that overlooked the Hud-
son-a cosey place, with a good sized
wood pile at the rear, for winter
meant winter in those parts, and the
nov 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 I
spent with the boys, asries my train
was safely run OF the sidetrack at the
junction.
"Why, Polly, GIRL" said I, "where's
the harm? A man can't live by him
self like an oyster in it's shell. and a
social glass never yet harmed any
one"
"No." said Polly, mot a social
glass, Jake, but the habit. And if you
would only put every five cent piece
that you spent for liquor into lit
tie Bertie's tiny savings bank"
"Pshaw!" said I. 81 am not a
drunkard, and I never mean to become
one. And no one likes to be preached
to by his wife, Polly. Remember that,
my girl, and you'll save yourself a
deal of trouble"
1 kissed her and went away, but
that vas the beginning of the little
grave shadows that grew upon my
Polly's face like a creeping fog over
the hills, and that she has never got
rid of since.
It was a sore point between us
what the politicians call a vexed ques.
ton. I felt that Polly was always
watching me; and I didn't wish to be
put in leading strings by a woman. So
Il shame to say i'll went to the
White Blackbird oftener than ever,
and I didn't often count the glasses of
beer that I drank, and once or twice,
of a 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
we'll, I don't like to think of all these
things now. Thank goodness, they ere
ove 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 fat fields through
which the iron track seemed to extend
itself like an endless black serpent, I
looked mys own life in the face. I
made upnfy mind that I had been be.
having like a brute.
"What are those senseless fellows at
the White Blakbird to me-" muttered
I, ''as comprred with one of Polly's
sweet, bright looks? I will give the
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 q great snow storm came with it.
W. we're belated by the snow which
collected on the rails, and when we
reached Earldale there was o little
girl, who had been sent on in the care
Of the conductor, who must wait either
three or four hours, for a way train in
the cold and cherries station, or be
taken home across a snowy field by
some one who knew the way.
l thought of my own little children.
"lll. take her." said land lifting her
up, I gathered my coarse, warm coat
about her, and I started for the long.
cold walk under the vhisperingspines
along the edge of the4iver.
I honestly believe she would have
frozen to death if sheDaad been left in
the cold station untiIurT TIE way train
could call for her. and when I had
left her safe in charge Of ner aunt I
saw by the old kitchen time piece that
it vas ten o'clock.
"Polly will think I have slipped
back into the slough of despond,"I
said to myself, with a half smile /; shut
I'll give her an agreeable SURPRISED"
Flowing down amid the snowdrift
through 8 grove of pine trees that