The news & observer. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1894-current, 1903-12-25
OF a New Sort With a
Painful Motto.
1.-THE PUBLIC BE --ED!'
Story of How Four Hundred Eager
Christmas Home.goers Waited
Ninety Minutes for Glitter
ing Private Car Hung to
a Freight Train.

OBSERVATION-DISCLOSURES lTulu. ENSIy Ohe hhcN''
what that means; the heat and dust OF 1t,
the sense of suppressed excitement, the
WEAKNESS, the expectancy, the hope
and the joy of the throng thus brought
together; the thrush and out-go of SHOW
ing, hurrying humanity at each stop
along the way; the frantic schoolgirl
greetings and fare-wells, the rival col
lege yells from the platforms as the train
moves on again; the story telling bunch
of drummers in the smoker; the silent
look of tense waiting on the face of the
patient, tired woman with the sleeping
child; the fretting at delays, the relief
of new station passed, the all-pervading
cheerfulness of good fellowship at its
yearly climax.
These four hundred people-of all ages,
sexes, colors and sizes! What feast of
sentiment is here! How a common i'm
pulse stirs them ALL 1t is a homegoing
festival and haste is the word, though the
painting, over-worked train can make but
a poor show of giving satisfaction. Where
do they come from-all these people?
where are they going? That mans grip
is plastered with the tags of transatlantic
steamers and foreign hotels; that white
headed farmer getting off to an hilarious
greeting from party of young folk IN a
wagon got OF at the station before with his
visible possessions done up in pillow
case; there sit stoop shouldered man and
dark-skinned woman who converse gutter
ally in a strange tongue and search each
recurring station platform with eyes avid
can tell? But the impulse, the home
coming, the re-binding of old ties is one
and the samei
The clatter of conversation, the laugh
ter, the good-natured swearing at the
railroad and its schedules rise above the
roar OF the train and the constant slam
ming of the doors; a peevish baby raises
an instant's howl and is soothed by a
grooming mothers call; little tot
stumbles along the crowded aisle on his
fifteenth conscious Journey to the water
cooler, as the crowd laughs and the weari-
ed mother smiles proudly with them; the
brakeman calls new station, his raucous
voice a Christmas greeting, and ten peo-
pie get off while twenty-five come crowd
ing in to a car that is already packed;
marvelously, good-humoredly, they are
somehow accommodated the bell rings,
the crowd smiles broadly; we are off
again!
"Haste," "Haste!" "Haste," breath
es the crowd; Hurry" Hurry" comes
the refrain of the clicking ties to hearts
set onward to the journeys end
But not for long, for now we are at
Durham and the train is forty minutes
late already and they are loading the ex-
press car with Christmas gifts and wait
ing for slow coming freight. Finally it
drags its weary length along and clears
our right of way, the conductor pulls his
cord, and again We move on.
Jno Andrews is aboard and he is a cheer,
full prophet. He knows the engineer and
has just talked with him. The engineer
is not to blame, we are assured. He is
the fastest on the road and his name is
Rippy.
He's goin' to jerk her into Goldsboro
on time" says John; "you can watch out
for 'high-balling' now
And we all feel grateful to John and
proud that We have Rippy at the throttle.
We do "high-ball'' it for minute or so!
we are fairly twirled to Ee Durham
before we get our breath. We even start
with whirl and chatter from that manu-
featuring suburb. And then the train
gives final vindictive lurch and stops
dead! You can feel Rippy's impotent
rage at the delay CULVER through the
length of the train. We resign ourselves
to a short wait. We try to appear staid
experienced, philosophic. We talk of
everything except railroads and Christ
mas journeys. But the minutes, long as
they seem, are really going by. One man
yields to temptation and goes forward to
investigated another and another follow
suit. Finally John Andrews, who has be-
come our cheerful chaperone and sponsor
for a speedy run, goes out also; he is out
n long time. Presently he comes back
and there is sadness on his face:
Waiting for an officials car over the
Oxford and GAINESVILLE, he says, "be
along in forty minutes-they say and we
see at once the grave of hope of optimism
in the length of that erstwhile CHEEKY
face.
We resign ourselves to the inevitable.
Watches click as the crowd begins to
guage the measure of its torment. Con
versation lags and dies out. We look
gloomily out the windows-there is row
of box cars, a cotton factory shut down
and sunset fast fading into a cold, black
night.
And we. who should even now be sitting
by open fireplaces or eating hearty,
home-cooked supper, are-at East Dur
ham, And the minutes are slipping by,
slipping by! Thirty minutes up" sings
out some one from the middle of the car.
Times up!'' says another presently.
The crowd begins to get nervous.
Grown-ups in the extremity of inaction,
visit the "water-coolers." The babies
catch on to the situation-there are six of
them in our car, and one starts tentative
wall. The rest recognize the relief afford
ed and vail in concert. Some OF us get
out and walk up and down the tracks.
There is the engine, big, healthy looking
sort OF engine, fires up and going-and
there Is Rippy-gamy, nervous-looking.
hurry-up kind of chap-idle, idle. idlei 1t
is dark now and the lamps are lit and the
engine Is standing there blowing steam in
disguised grunts, while Rippy oils her up