Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1899-08-19
CHAPTER III.

Widow.
| T leaned nv head on the arm rest and
| shed bitter tears Of unavailing femorse'
| while he sat there smoking in sullen gloom
| 1 knew that to lose his job was the great
| est calamity-next to being killed-that
| could befall railroad man. l had never
supposed that my father could lose his job;
| once, when he spoke Of such possibility
| mother put her arms around his neck, kiss
| ed him, and said: my Jim amt that KIND
| of an engineer" And now this great
calamity had come upon US through me.
| I wished myself dead
| Father sat in perfect silence, until the
| night engineer arrived. OF course, ne had
| heard all about it; such news travels fast
among railroad men. AS father roiieo up
| his overclothes he said: We'll, Jake, I'm
| DONE
| "Oh, I hope faint so bad as that, Is 1t,
Jim
Eyes; I'll never give OF Hinckley
chance to fire me; I'll quit tonight
I'm mighty sorry to hear it, jim; mighty
sorry; but If twas my case, I'd skin that
kid alive
| 1.-THE boy amt so much to blame as
| be: it's my own fault; if I'd stayed on the
| engine where 1 belonged, 'twouldnt nave
| happened. Come, Frank" he added, with
a sigh Of resignation that cut me to the
heart.
1 ASNA ~
| ward the round house. l tried between my
sobs to tell him how sorry | was 90,
Never mind, sonny" said he, kindly. !
| don't know as 1 care so very much, after
| ALL"
That made me cry all the harder He an
| swered cheeriIy the salutations of the men
f., whom we met, and wrote a report, winch L
knew contained his resignation.
| There was letter for him in the engi-
neer's box. He read it at glance, tore 1t
| in two, and threw it contemptuously on the
| floor I DickeQ the pieces, ana redu II
while he was speaking to Jack Dowd.
Engineer Odel,'' it said; you will please
| report at my Office tomorrow, September
7. A. HINCKLEY, NJ. M
| Mother was looking for something in the
| clock On the mantelpiece when We entered
| She turned to speak, but father forestalled
| her with, well, Elsie, I'm done
| A shade of pallor swept over her race
| What" she gasped in a dazed, helpless
I'm DONE" he repeated "Fired-dis-
| charged--out of job.
| She dropped into a chair that stood be-
| hind her, her hands fell nervelessly in her
| lap, her jaw dropped, her eyes dilated, and
as her bosom heaved systematically, she
| CALCULATED: "Oh, Jim.
| 1 feared she was going to die, and, rush
| ing her, l buried my face in her lap,
shrieking: Il done it, ma; done it!'
| Her hand caressed my hair idly tor mo-
| mcnt, then she burst into tears. Recover
| ing herself, she began scoIding me. Father
! took my part. THE boys not SO much to
| blame, Elsie, as l am myself, Sdlu ue.
| ''If I'd stayed on the engine, where | be.
| lenged, it couldn't have happened. It's all
| due to politics. l went in the Office and
| got to arguing with O'Neil and forgot
| eyerything-didn't even know 81 was Cue
| till 1 heard Frank whistle, and wondered
how they came to have switch engine
| whistle on that train. 1t amt as bad as it
! might be, giry,' said he, putting his arms
| hound her soothingly; Everybody gets it,
| sooner or later, and thank God I've had the
good luck never to kill or injure human
! being; l might not be able to say that SIX
! months a year from now. Don't you
| worry, dear; we'll be all right; can make
a living for my little family if never rail-
| road another day.
| tive engineers, had always hoped to some
day own farm. Railroad men indulge in
| the Authorization that farming is a delight
| full recreation, and that anybody can dig
| hole in the ground, drop a seed in it, and
| lie .on their oars while it grows. He had
| scrimped all his life with this end In view,
and, having saved enough to buy udy
| place, after the first shock was over, he
| felt like a boy out for the holidays. He
would buy a farm, he said, SO tar back
! that he would never again hear the sound
| of a locomotive bell or whistle. He was
| done with railroading forever. Under the
| influence of his enthusiasm mother took
| heart again, and May and l were crazy to
| get to "our farm.
| I excited the envy of Joe and Peter, to
| my extreme satisfaction, by the roseate
hues in which l painted my future as
| prosperous farmers son.
| Many kindly disposed persons, willing to
sacrifice their magnificent farms for ready
| money, deluged us with circulars. The
great difficulty was to choose from among
| so many advantageous offers. Father re-
| ceived so much advice from the other en-
| gineers-who knew as much of the subject
| as himself-that he feared to close with
| any, lest he should miss better. He sin
cerely wished, now, that he had quit the
| railroad five years ago.
| At last he bought farm-without seeing
it-of 100 acres. ''Tillage, pasture and
| woodland; good buildings, fruit trees and
spring water.
Mother was sure she could support the
family with the product Of her poultry
yard alone: to say nothing of the butter;
We should keep horse, or course, and
| then there would be the pig.
We moved to our farm that winter. 1t
| was not all that could have been desired.
| than he intended. having been assured that
half the purchase price could remain on
mortgage.
The farm was located on "Carey's ridge"
| a rocky elevation that extended thirty or
| forty miles east and west effectually divid-
| ing that section of country. In one respect
1T filled the bill-there wasn't a railroad
| within fifty miles of it. Melton" quite a
| large town. was just across the ridge from
us, and Greytown also on the other side of
| the ridge, was some twelve miles away.
| Our nearest neighbor was a widow with
a charming daughter couple of years my
| junior. Carrie Stanwood and became firm
friends at once. I would slip over to the
widows every chance had and help in the
garden or at the wood pile. The widow was
jolly. good company, though poor as a
| church mouse, in spite of the fact that she
owned the biggest farm on the ridge. Ridge
| rocks were not particularly valuable. Car
| RE inherited not only her mothers sunny
temperament. but also her good looks. and
| it wasn't long before I discovered that I
wasn't the only boy who voluntarily shaved
| at the widows wood pile. 1t was the dear
est wish of both Mrs. Stanwood and Carrie
| that the latter might become educated for
| teacher. but the prospects were very slim.
Before the first summer had passed we
heard rumors Of proposed railroad to go
| through our section; it was even said that
it would tunnel the ridge and go through
Melton. Excitement. hitherto stranger on
the ridge, ran high. The whiskered
| farmers put fabulous values on their acres
| of rocks and stumps. All were to become
| suddenly rich.
In the following spring surveyors ap-
| peared, laying out the route, and they were
| quickly followed by the pick and shovel
brigade Evidently the locomotive was
| was about to disturb fathers retreat A
rich deposit of gravel was discovered on
Elder Bascoms land. which he sold to the
|