Santa Fe daily New Mexican. [volume] (Santa Fe, N.M.) 1885-1897, 1897-06-16
THE RIVALS.

1es,sF. IHaG olu SnunGln engine JnaU
putin an snortin like broken winded old
horse could tell tale, if it wasn't so short
O. breath. That's the very engine old John
Wright used to drive when was his stoker
aye, it'll be ten year come next September.
He was fine figure of man, was John.
He stood 8 foot u in his stockin' s, an was
broad in the shoulders too. In his greasy
peaked cap an oily blue jacket he looked a
giant. He was a queer I'm. / used to tell
him he needed a wife to look after him.
Ha, ha! He always made his tea wi wa
ter out O. tn engine boiler, an when l
laughed at him he'd slap me- on the back,
an say, What's good for the horse is good
for the rider, Harry. He was rare old
sort
WAS he an old mani"
sob, no; he'd be 40 odd, suppose, but
Twas young man of 49, an he seemed old,
like, to me. AS I've said, he was baohe-
Tor, an, as far as knew, likely to remain
one. There wasn't much of the ladies'
man about John. But still waters run
deep, they say, an John Wright had his
little secret.
"About three mile out o. town, I used
to notice that he whistled three times and
always looked across couple o. fields a bit
farther on, as il he were lookin for some
thin. / asked him once or twice what it
was but he edged me OFF, an changed the
subject, SO didn't press it. But kept
my eyes open.
"It was early winter when / first went
on to stoke for John, an, of course, bein q
goods train, it was generally gettin on for
s O'Clock at night when we passed this par
ticlar spot, bound for Barnham, so mile
away. It's up bank, as dare say you
know, from here to Longbridge, eight
mile up the line, an we never got any great
speed on until we'd passed that length, es-
pecially when we'd "a heavy freight. But
all could make out for some months was
the dim outline of cottage that had an
up stairs window with red blind. The
cottage lay couple o. fields away. What
made me notice the rcd blind was that, as
we passed, the window was always sudden
ly lighted up.
"Aye, an SO was John Wright's face soon
as ever he saw it, Such smile-an he
had kind face, had old John-an then
he'd seem lost bit, as if he were thinkin
O. something as was good to think about.
II couldn't make it out, for you see
looked on John as musty, crusty old
bachelor, for all he were such good sort.
But the light nights let the secret out. 1t
were no use of his keepin his tongue tied
then; for there, in tn little front garden,
across them two little fields, was pink
frook, an a sunbonnet an little hand flut-
term bit Of hankychief as we passed
every night, as true as the clock.
II chaffed John rarely about it, first
time saw it, an he blushed-he did in
deed, sir! Though his face was grimy on
the top and copper color under that, I'll
swear he blushed. But he looked pleased
an proud, for, by that time, we'd grown
such thick friends that I'm sure he didn't
mind me KNOWN.
Then, bit by bit, it all came outs John
and her father, who used to be pointsman
at Chubb junction, half mile farther up
the line than the cottage, had been lads
together. John had gone up for a camp
every Sunday for many year. He'd
known Mary Mathers since she was born,
an when she was a little lass he'd nursed
her on his knee, an told her he'd wait for
her. dare say he meant it in fun at the
time, but, as she grew up, he knew he
liked to be where she was better than any
where else in the world. That's how he
put 1t, sir. Then Tom Mathers, her ia
ther, fell i'll, an / learnt afterward, an
guessed even then, that John Wright made
his wages keep four instead of one. Mary's
father never worked again. He was on his
back for Is months. an then he died.
&C n thor, vO,, v,opy Iva cI1Fn Tnbn WAC n
father to the fatherless, an husband to
the widow--as far as lookin after em
went, at any rate-only he wanted to be a
husband to the daughter, Mary. OF course
learnt this bit by bit, an can't help
film in things as come to my ears years
after, for John was never the man to blow
his own trumpet. Ha, ha! He was well
content wi the steam Enthusiastically
when passing Railway cottage. Poor Johnl
SWELL, to cut long story short, Mary
seemed to make no objection. Why should
she? She'd never met anybody she liked
better, and finer fellow than John Wright
never walked. He got her to promise to
light the lamp in the room wi the red
blind on dark nights as he passed on his
engine, an to give him wave of her hand
on light nights, for he said it was some
thin to be goin on with like He'd touch
O. sentiment in him, had John, aye, he
had that
zone Saturday night he says, Harry,
you'd better walk DER wi me tomorrow.
!" Walk DER wi you, / says. 'Whcre?'
Why, to Mrs. Mathers, to be sure.
I'd like you to know my Mary An then
you can tell me what you think O. my
sweetheart An as he said it that sweet,
far off look came in his face, an / knew
he loved that lass as few lasses are loved.
"Well, went, an wished at the time
I'd staid away. 1t was love at first sight
wi me, an felt / should never, never be
the same again. God forgi' me, but after
that Sunday felt at times hated John
Wright. When she stood at the stile, at
the crossing midway between the cottage
an the signal box--as she did every evenin
from the very day | went wi John-an
waved her hand to him, bashfullikc, an he
threw her clumsy kiss, felt could ha'
knocked him off the engine
II fought again tan, you must UNI
derstand, didn't feel that way all the
time, for we were good friends, an no one
would have seen difference. But when
he talked Of her in his quiet way--of bein
wed an such like--it was like knives in
me.
Then he pressed mo to go again an
spend Sunday at the cottage put him
rff h.1t ho Vvot,1dv,tt tul.s, t,,o, fnr my IN.