Year: 1859

Thrilling Incident i'm the Life Of


n Locomotive Engineer.


In returning from Philadelphia, about The
middle of August, 1885, the cars were very
crowded, and my companion in the same
seat found out to be locomotive engineer,
and in the course of our conversation he
made the remark that he hoped he had run
his last trip upon a locomotive. Upon
making bold to ask his reason, he gave me
the following story, and since then l have
found it to be strictly true.


'Five years since was running upon the
New York Central Railroad. Ny run was
from B--to RI. Tt was the
lightning express train, and was what its
name denotes, for it was fast have seen
her throw her six foot driver so as to be al.
most invisible to the eye. But to my sto-
ry. sma< aa sae.sa


About half mile from the village of
there is nice little cottage but
few feet from the track. At the time a
young married couple lived there. They
had one child, a little boy about four We RS
old, bright, black eyed, curly-headed little
chap as you ever saw. had taken great
deal of interest in the little fellow and had
thrown candy and oranges to him from the
train, and ! was sure to see him peeping
through the fence when my train passed.


One fine sunny afternoon we were behind
time and running fast, we did not stop at
B, and l was to make up one hour
before reaching b. We came up
at tremendous speed, and when sweeping
around the curve my eye followed the track,
not over two hundred feet ahead sat the
little fellow playing with little kitten which
he held in his lap. AT the sound of our ap-
proach he looked up and laughed, clapping
his hands in high glee at the affrighted kit
ten as it ran from the track Quicker than
lightning that blasts the tall zine upon the
mountain top, whistled dawn the brakes,
and reversed my engines, but knew it was
impossible to stop. Nobly did the old engine
try to save him. The awful straining and
writhing of its iron drivers told but too plain
ly of the terrific velocity we had attained
| was out of the cab window and down on
the COW catcher in fash. The little fellow
stood STILL motioned him off and shouted;
his little blue eyes opened wide with aston
ishment and merry laugh was upon his lips
| held my breath as we rushed upon him,
made a desperate attempt to catch him but
missed, and as his little body passed l heard
the feeble cry of Mother and the forward
trucks crushed his body to atoms. .a.


O, God; that moment may live, sir, to
be an old man, but the agony of that mo-
ment can never be erased from my memory
The cars stopped some rods from the spot,
and ran back as soon as possible. His
mother saw the train stop, and fearful for
boding flashed upon her at once. She came
rushing frtntically to the spot whence we
stood. Never shall / forget the look she
gave me as she beheld her first born shape
ess mass. would have given my whole exis-
tence to have avoided that moment! have
seen death in all its forms upon, railroads.
have seen men, women, and children, man.
gled and killed. have seen all this, but
that little innocent boy, as he looked in my
face, and killed almost in my arms, it unner-
we'd me, and from that day l made sol
emn VOW never to run locomotive more.


The young mother is now in the Utica
Lunatic ASYLUM. From the hour her boy
was killed reason had left its throne He
stopped and wiped the tears from his eyes,
and said, You may think it weak in Inc to
shed tears, but l cannot help it, No, l
replied, but think it noble and, sir, would
to God every man had a heart as large as
yours | have often thought since, how
few arc those who give one passing thought
to the man of strong nerve and stout arms
who guides them through darkness and
storms, with the speed of the wind, safely
to their journeys's end. They do not for a
moment, turn their attention to the Iron
monster that is dragging them forward with
fearful velocity to meet friends or relations.
They do not realize that the man who guides
the fiery monster holds all their precious lives
at his command, and that the least negli.
gence upon his part would cause sorrow and
mourning in a thousand homes that are now
waiting the return Of absent loved ones.-
Cleceland Recieso.


C-ru W.