Herald and news. [volume] (West Randolph, Vt.) 1878-1943, 1897-08-05
THE ENGINEERS RIVAL.
BY ALFRED d. COOPER.

winded old horse, could tell tale, il II
wasn't so short o. breath. That's the
very engine old John Wright used &c
drive when l was his stoker. Let me SET
I've been drivin' three year-aye, it'll
be ten year come next September. He
was fine figure of man, was John. He
stood six foot one an half in his stock
ms, an was broad in the shoulders,
too. In his greasy peaked cap, an oily
blue jacket, he looked a giant. He a
queer Jun. used to tell him he needed
q wife TO look after him. Ha! Ha! He
always made his tea wi water out o.
tn engine boiler, an when laughed at
him, he'd slap me on the back, an say:
whats good for the horse is good for
the rider, Harry He was rare old
Sort
"Was he an old MANI"
"Oh, no. he'd be forty-odd, | suppose,
but was young man, of 20, an he
seemed old, like, to me. As I've said, he
was a bachelor, 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, used
TO notice that he wbistled three times,
and always looked across a couple o.
fields, bit farther on, as if he were
loolin' for somethin'. asked him once
or twice what it was, but he edged me
off, an changed the subject, 50 didn't
press it, But kept my eyes open.
ut was early winter when l first went
on TO stoke for John, an, of course, bein'
a goods train, il was generally gettin' on
for eight o'clock at night when we
passed this particular spot, bound for
Rarnham, so mile away. It's up bank
as / daresay 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 especially
when we'd a heavy freight. But all |
could make out for some months was
the dim outline of cottage, that had
an upstairs window with a red blind.
The cottage lay a couple o fields away.
What made me notice the red blind was
that, as we passed, the window was al
ways suddenly lighted up
aye, an so was John Wright's face
soon as ever he saw it. Such a smilel-
an he had a kind face, had old John
an then he'd seem lost bit, as II he
were thinllin' o. somethin' as was good
to think about.
81 couldn't make it out, for you see |
looked on John as a musty, crusty old
bachelor, for all he were such a 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 a pink frock, an a sun-bon-
net, an a little hand fiutterin' a biz of
hankychief as we passed-every night,
as true as the clock,
81 chafTed John rarely about it, first
time | saw it, an he blushed-he did,
indeed, 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 out.
slO0n anu UHI ldintts WIZ lf9Oh " ~
pointsman at Chubb Junction, half
mile farther up The line than the cot
taee. had been lads together. John had
gone up for camp every Sunday for
many a year. He'd known Mary Math-
ers since she was born, an when she
was little lass he'd nursed her on his
kree, an told her he'd wait for her.
1, . In finn n he time
but, as she grew up, he knew he liked to
be where she was better than anywhere
else in the world That's how he put il,
sir. Then Tom Mathers. her father, fell
i'll, an / learnt afterwards, an ! guessed
even then. that John Wright made his
wages keep four inst cad of one. Mary's
father never worked again. He was on
his back for IS months, an then he died.
AN then. you may be sure, John was
a father to the fatherless, an husband
to the wfdow-as far as loolSin' after
'em went, at any rIie-ouly he wanted
TO be a husband to the daughter, Mary.
OF course. I 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 10 blow his own trumpet. Ha,
la! He was well content wi the stenm-
whistle-especially when passin' Rail-
way cottage. Poor John!
well. to cut a long story short, Mary
seemed to make TO objection. Why
should She? She'd never met anybody
she liked better an finer fellow than
John Wright never walked! He got her
10 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 somthin' to be goin' on with,
Ike; he'd a touch o sentiment in him,
had John, aye, he had that!
"Oue Saturday night he says: Harry.
you'd better walk DER wi me to-mor-
row."
"'Walk DER WI you > says; where"
"'Vyhy. to Mrs. Mathers'. to be sure.
I'd like you to know my Mary. An then
you can tell me what you think of my |
sweetheart An as he said it that sweet, |
far-off look came in his face, an knew |