Grant County herald. [volume] (Lancaster, Wis.) 1850-1968, 1904-01-20

<>N tilted his chair back and eie-
waited his heels on the desk that the
CITY editor called his when he was
there There are some things in this
world I'm not adapted for. That's
one"
The rest OF the ''late watch" gath
cred around, with EXCAVATIONS OF
amazement and surprise, and he cor
tinued:
You see, 1 once applied to a division
SUPERINTENDENT for a job and was as
sured my application would be constd-
cred the very first vacancy that oc-
Cured. Then I waited The suspense
was not especially trying to rae, but l
could see was wearing on the friends
with whom I was boarding consider
ably.
One day, however, the caller" the
man that rounds up the train men
when they are wanted to go out on a
special, came around with a note re-
questing me to call at the superintend-
ent's office. OF course, 1 complied with
the request, and was told that they
wanted me to act as assistant agent for
q day or two at a place called Don
eril's, or<something like that.
| wanted to know if 1 would have
time to go and pack my grip, but they
seemed to think such a delay would
materially prejudice the prospects or
the road, so I grabbed the pass and
made for the train, which / managed
to catch, after a brief but exciting
chase. Then my "grief," as the rail-
road men called 1t, began.
This train don't stop at Doneril's,
young feller," said the conductor, as
he pocketed my pass and proceeded
calmly on his rounds. l would have
liked to have asked him what | vas
expected to do about it, but his counte-
nance was so stern and forbidding l
did not dare.
We were rapidly nearing my desti-
nation, and something had to be done,
so I informed a brakeman Of my pre-
dicament, and he very kindly volun-
teered to ask "Fatty Duff" to slow
down a little at Doneril's and let me
off. / presume he did so, but II there
was any reduction in the speed of the
train it was too slight for my unprac-
ticed eye to detect. The brakeman en-
couraged me- however, and, as there
appeared to be no other alternative,
when we were nearly abreast Of the
platform let go and dropped.
I did not light right away, but when
1 did land the conclusion was some
thing awful, and as l rolled over and
over 1t seemed to me / must nave gath
cred up about all the splinters there
were in that platform in different por-
lions Of my anatomy. l was still
gyrating when the last car whizzed by,
but I heard the hind mans" timely
warning:
'Look out, young man, you'll tear
your clOthes!'
1t was a rickety old station, the walls
frescoed with mashed tomatoes. Emp
ty chicken coops, fruit boxes, berry
chests and watermelon rinds scattered
about the platform, exhaled a faded
and depressing odor, and the only Wis
able indication Of life or death was the
swarms of flies buzzing drowsily in the
hot sunshine. / picked my way to the
office and presented my credentials to
the agent, tall, lank man, with long
neck, careworn features, and stiff
hat that looked out of place in the
midst of such rural surroundings. He
was absorbed in a newspaper, and it
was sometime before he noticed me. AT
length, however, he threw down the
paper, read my letter, and invited me
to make myself at home. Then he I'M
bosomed himself:
'I'm sick and tired of this business"
ne said "The works enough to kill a
mule, but it's the injustice and lack Of
appreciation that makes me hot. You
can't pick up paper without seeing a
lot of rot about the heroism Of loco
motive engineers, and the terrible re-
sponsibility that makes train dispatch
ers hump-shouldered before their time;
but never single, solitary word about
station agents. Why, to read the pa
pers. q person would think an engineer
went through life with his eye glued to
the rail and a death-grip on the re-
yersing lever, and that the train dis
patcher had to put in all his spare
time sopping his head with hair vigor
to keep from turning gray in single
night. But look at the facts.
ANY track-walker can tell you that
an engineer is asleep more than half
the time when out on the line, and
that the only way to call his attention
to a slow flag or stop signal is to
heaye rock through the cab window;
while, as for the train dispatcher, we
all know what he is-a petty tyrant,
Nth an eight-hour trick, whose most
arduous duties consist in rawhiding us