Gulf Coast breeze. [volume] (Crawfordville, Fla.) 1897-19??, 1898-06-03
An Operators St0Ty.

The life of telegraph operators in
the city is very unlike that Of their
brothers in the country, and the duties
of the "commercial' operator differ
greatly from those ofthe railroad man.
The latter's work may not be arduous
as the other fellows, but, it is fire..
quently attended with much respou-
sibility. And one does not need to 90
10 Mexico or Montana in order to
satisfy himself that the railroad oper-
ator also has his share Of close shaves
and air-raising experiences. A veteran
A'key-twister, who used to be en-
ployed nights on the eastern division
of the Boston q Maine railroad in New
Hampshire, tells q startling story Of
his experience with a burglar while
having orders from headquarters to
stop q through freight. The predica-
ment In which he placed himself by
falling asleep at his post should be a
warning to all night operators who
have hand in the movement OF trains.
Gust throw two or three shovel
fuls Of coal on the fire every hour or so
and make yourself comfortable. There
won't be much doing tonight, and
after No. 2 goes-why,sco home.'
Those were the last words Ed said
to me as he buttoned his collar high
around his neck and hurried out of the
Office.
Ed was the regular night telegraph
operator at the little town at Hampton,
situated on single-track railroad in
New Hampshire. He was not more
than twenty-five years old, and the
monotony of his work caused him to
seek frequent recreation away from
the office. If dance was to come off
in the town hall or within ten miles of
it, Ed would be there, provided he
could find some one to take his place
for that night at the Office. .l.
was only sixteen at that time. A
few years before my brother and two
other young men, all older than my
self, had built private telegraph line
between their homes in order, as they
said, to learn how to Sling light
ming" we'll enough to work in busy
Office. Each became q good operator
and in time found employment at his
trade.
Although an eager disciple of the
art, I was almost too young to have o
thorough knowledge of telegraphing
when my brother left home; but I
knew enough about it to want to know
more, and the day and night operators
at Hampton were annoyed by my
visits till they decided that I wasn't
an entirely hopeless case and could
even be trusted occasionally to "sub"
for them.
And that is what had agreed to do
for Ed on the night mentioned--a cold
and clustering night in February.
The task was not altogether an
agreeable one. No passenger trains
stopped at Hampton after 6.25 o'clock
IN the evening. After 9 no one ever
called at the station to inquire for
freight, and by half past 10 all sounds
OF footsteps on the platform ceased,
only o dim light here and there could
be seen, aud everything about the
place appeared to be dead.
A thick snow storm, which set in
during the evening, did not detract at
all from the lonesomeness Of my quar-
ters. "But every place is lonesome
at night" mused, ''and one can al
ways have company to cheer him.
This thought coupled with the re-
Election that in the morning I was to
receive $3.50 for my services, quoted
my fears for the time being.
A red, q white, and blue lantern
were always kept burning in the Office
at night in case they should be needed
quickly. / examined each of these
lanterns to see if it was properly filled
and secured, look ed after the fire in
the big coal stove, readiusted the re-
laws on wires Nos. Q and 16, and lay
back in the big, cushioned armchair
with the air of one who had done his
full duty.