Year: 1877




Number ninety-nine stood putting and
blowing off steam at the water tank of a
little wayside station-a beauty and mar
vel Of brass and iron and steel; strong
beyond smile, making play of the hun,
dred coal cars it drew swiftly along,with
Its eye piercing the darkness as noon
day sun, with its breath of tleecy steam
and heart of volcanic fire, and John
Lathrop stood with hand upon whistle
and throttle waiting the signal to go
ahead"


1t is midnight and the dead of winter
The music of the Christmas bells had
died away, the glad acclaim that welcom-
ed the New Year had been hushed and
the holy lessons oflove charity and good
will that had been preached and sung
were fast being forgotten in the rush
and roar of business. in running the
mad race for wealth and following the
spendthrifI dictum ofeverchanging fash
ion.


The spasmodic charity that breaks out
at such times had run its course. The
poor had been warmed and fed and made
happy for day, and would be scarcely
thought of until the year had completed
its cycle and the holly and ivy and ever
green were twined and festooned again
in parlor and hall, and wreathed about
the mottoes of Christian remembrance
hung upon the walls. Plenty had glori-
fled itself in the giving, and poverty and
vice and crime must live upon the recol-
lection of what they had received until
the coming of another year Aye,
wealth had given and plumed itself
upon It's liberality. In alms-house and
prison hearty feast had been spread
The duty of the rich had been done, and
we'll, nothing more could DE expected
ofthen. Fashion had held fairs and Civ
en- balls, and made itself lfmerry while in
dulging in ostentatious almsgiving, be
cause it was the proper thing to do
and subsidized, TIE sensation of the thing
was over, and its attractiseness lost. and
now Mrs Grurly and Flora McFlimsey
md the rest of the creme de la creme
must think of themselves Strangehow
forgetfulness of others suffer
ngs comes-how soon the spasm of year
ly charity passes-how speedily the heart
of humanity again turns into stone. But
'the poor We have always with YOU" and
can they not be helped a; any time? That
may not be sound philosophy in the eyes
of heaven, but it is in the eyes of fash
ion


John Lathrop, engineer of No. SO, was
linking of these things in a somewhat
cynical manner as he peered out of the
cab window into the biting cold and
sleet burdened air-thinking of the hard
almost starvation prices to
which wages had been reduced. and more
than all, of his humble home and bright
eyed little boy OF half a dozen years,who
was then dreaming that papa would be
home to breakfast,and spend thenext day
Sunday with them.


Its hard to be poor" he said, brush
ing the icy frost from his heavy beard
and mustache, -'andit does seem as if the
the company might be little more lib
eral after the way they worked us and
piled up stamps during the Centennial.
But -"


John. here's tramp sang out the
fireman from the interior of the water
tank.


That's nothing new" was the answer
They we're as plenty all summer as
black berries.


But the poor fellows half starved and
Irozen, and begs so hard for ride


"Ride? Humph And get sent up
or thirty days if any of the big guns OF
he road find it out?"


The light from the opening furnace
loor shone full upon the face Of the
ramp as he stepped from the desolate,
cy tank where he had PAUSED to gain
of shelter, even if little of
warmth. A rapid sign passed between
,im and the engineer, and the latter
continued:


Come aboard. I'll take the chances.
don't think the conductor will give me
way, and mighty clear of the brakes
nen showing their faces more than they
an possibly help such night as this.
Anyhow, I'm not going to leave fellow
,eing to starve and freeze todeathfor all
he railroad companies this side OF Can
lda. Blessed if do Come aboard, Old