The farmer and mechanic. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 18??-19??, 1903-12-29

Story of How Four Hundred Eager
Christmas iIome-goers Walled
Ninety Minutes Tor a Glitter
ing Private Car Hung 10
a Freight Train.
a Freight Train.

I'll obLAo 'CNA
what that means; the heat and dust OF it,
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 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 a new station passed, the all perVadlnS
cheerfulness of good fellowship at its
yearly climax.
These four hundred people-of all ages,
sexes, cOlors and sizes. What a feast of
sentiment is here. How a common i'm
pulse stirs them all. 1t is a home-goiEg
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 roma 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 a party Of young folk IN a
wagon got OF at the station before with his
visible possessions done up IN a pillow
case; there sit a stoop shOuldered man and
dark-skinned woman who converse gutter
ally in a strange tongue and search each
recurring station platform with eyes avid
with yearning. What the stories are, who
can tell? But the impulse, the home
coming, the re-binding of old ties is enc
and the same!
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; a 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 a new station, his raucous
voice a Christmas greeting, and ten peo-
pie get off while twenty-five come crowd
ing IN to q car that is already packed;
rarveloUsly, good-humoredly, they are
somehow accommodated; the bell rings.
the crowd smiles broadly; we are of
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 a 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 a minute or 50.
We are fairly twirled to East Durham
before we get our breath. We ever start
with a whirl and chatter from that manu-
featuring suburb. And then the train
gives a final vindictive lurch and stops
dead, You can feel Rippy's imDotent
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 10y. One man
yields to temptation and goes forward to
investigate; another and another follow
suit. Finally John Andrews, who has be
come Our cheerful chaperone and sponsor
Tor 9 speedy run, goes out also; he is out
a long time. Presently he comes back
and there is sadness on his face:
"Waiting for an officials car over the
Oxford and ClarksviIIe," 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 tc
guage the measure Of its torment. Con.
Versation lags, and dies out. We LOCI,
g~loomily OFT the WindoWs-therc is q row
OF box cars, a cotton factory shut dowg
and a sunset fast fading into a cold, black
night.
And We, who should even now be s:tti7o
by open fifep!aces or eating a hearty
h0;nc-cook2d supper, &Ia-at East Dur
lam. And the minutes arc Slipping by
Shipping by! "Thirtv minutes 40" sing,
out some one from the middle Of The car
"Ti2ae's up says another presently.
TIE crowd feg'ns to get nervous
Gfown-ups, lit the extremity Of ;~aaction
visit the "Watar-co0lers." The i,a he
c" tca on TO the situation-thcra are six q
them in our car. ard Gre starts . tentative
wal. The rest recognize tie relief afrerI
ed end wall in concert. Some Ct - OF
c2t and walk up and down the tracks
TN-.-