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You see,

He did. They came to Sandpile, half minutes ahead of time easily. That man way over the division, right on time. As Martin is a jewel. I've been watching him they stopped for water, the conductor for some time.'' came running forward.

“Harris says to They had eleven minutes to spare when tell you you are doin' perfect,” he said. they crept into the station shed, and the “He says if you think you can make up engine came to a panting standstill. Haranything in the next ten miles that you ris hurried forward to congratulate the might lay here a minute or so, an' try it. engineer. As he looked up into the cab He thinks the time is kind o slow, but he he saw the fireman suddenly put his don't want you to take any chances on arm around Martin and steady his wavergoin' in late."

ing figure. Harris climbed up beside "I can make ten miles in eight minutes them. without a bit o' trouble," said Martin. “What's the matter?” he said, anx"I'll lay here two minutes yet. That'll iously. give us a minute to pull out and eight to “He's sick," said the fireman. “You get over there. Tell Harris he needn't better get a carriage for him." worry about goin' in late. He can easy “Was the run too much for him?" take thirty minutes off the schedule an' Martin turned his head and looked over then we can go in right on the dot.”

his shoulder at the general manager. His The conductor reported this to the gen- face was ashen. Two or three specks of eral manager, and that official smiled with soot which clung there stood out black in satisfaction. He had the general manager comparison. Harris wondered why he of their western connection with him, and should notice this at such a time. it was very gratifying to have everything “No, it ain't the run, Mr. Harris," said going so well. He determined that Martin the sick engineer, slowly. “Don't worry should not lose by the good work which he about that. The run is easy, dead easy. certainly was doing. West of Sandpile, as You can take off thirty minutes on the it happened, the roadbed was like a schedule, I know." billiard table, as the section foreman would “Well, what's the matter then, say. It was, in fact, a stretch of very even Martin? is track.

“Oh, I was sick when I started. Ugh, “We are going close to seventy miles an lemn sit down.

was feelin' hour," Harris said, with his eye on his bad all night, an' my wife-you know my stop watch. “And we don't seem to be wife?" moving so very fast, either. We should Harris stared. Martin's eyes were large have made the schedule much faster here. with excitement now, and his face was This train is certainly in almost perfect drawn, so that there were deep lines about condition."

his eyes and across his forehead. On the tenth mile the train slackened Well, you see, as I said, my wife's a perceptibly. “He's got to ease off a bit," queen. But she made a mistake askin’ me said Harris, or we should go over there not to go out on the run jus' because my ahead of time. I was a little afraid he head ached. Say, if I had to I'd taken waited at Sandpile too long, but he had my head off an' left it home an' let her time to spare.

We did nine miles in six take the achie out of it. But I guess a minutes and forty-five seconds. Not headless engineer wouldn't look very well bad, eh?”

on a trial run on a passenger, would it, ole The other official expressed the opinion pal? ” Martin looked at Harris and burst that it was good work, very, very good into uncontrollable laughter, which sudwork, indeed. And at this the smile on denly died to a low moan. Harris' face only broadened.

Harris stepped out into the gangway. At the next station at which they had to Here,” he called to the conductor, who stop for water, Martin loitered again, and was just coming out of the telegraph office again made up several minutes over the after registering, “ you get an ambulance time on the card. He had gone flying by right away. Martin's sick." station after station right on the minute. While they waited Harris chafed the At the last station east of the western termi engineer's hands, as if the grimy workman nal he had time to spare, but according to had been a sick woman. There were tears the rules, there was nothing to prevent his in Harris' eyes as he lifted them to the firegoing over as quickly as he could make man's face. The fireman told this many the run. His leaving time at this last times, years afterwards. He thought it a station protected him into the terminal credit to Harris. shed.

Do you think it's serious ?” Harris “Gad, I don't know about this,” said asked the fireman. Harris. “This roadbed ain't as smooth as “I think he's all in." the Sandpile track. If we should ever “ All in ?" jump the track we should never stop this "I don't think he has any chance to get side of kingdom come. We'll go in ten better. I've seen a lot of 'em go like this."



Harris wiped his eyes, without trying to conceal his emotion.

III. Martin had one of the finest funerals that the railroad men had ever given a comrade. They all forgot their petty jealousies now that Martin was dead. He was acknowledged to have been one of the best engineers that ever opened a throttle. The crowd at the services at the church was so great that many failed to gain ad.

mittance. There

profusion of Alowers.

“He was one of the best men we had," said Harris. “It was unfortunate that he should die just now.

I tell you these men are the brave ones of the earth. 1-"

And Harris talked for some time in a low, grave voice on the qualities of the men who run trains and their liabilities on American railroads.-C. W. Sanders, in Cleveland Plain Dealer.




J. H, HALL, DIV. 241, CHR.

Memorial Day.

I. Twine laurels to lay o'er the Blue and the Gray

spread wreaths where our heroes rest; Let the song of the North echo back from the

South for the love that is truest and best! Twine wreaths for the tombs of our Grant and our

Lee, one anthem for Jackson and Meade. And the flag above you is the banner for me-one

people in name and in deed!

II. Clasp hands o'er the graves where our laureled

ones lie--clasp hands o'er the Gray and the

Blue; Today we are brothers and bound by a tie that the

years shall but serve to renew; By the side of the Northman who peacefully sleeps

where tropical odors are shed A son of the South his companionship keeps-one

fag o'er the two heroes spread.

A few extracts will give an idea of the speed at which trains were then run, on what, for the period, was considered a well-equipped line:

“The night express train left Charleston at 5 P. M. and arrived in Hamburg at 6 A. M., making the run of 136 miles in 13 hours, at an average speed of 10 miles per hour.

“The night express train for Colunibia left Charleston at 5:05 P. M. and arrived at its destination, if it happened to be on time, which was not at all probable that it would be, 12 hours and 15 minutes afterwards, the distance being 130 miles.”

This sounds very funny nowadays, when passenger trains are not considered fast at all unless scheduled for 35 or 40 miles an hour, but it is nothing to compare with the freight schedules which were operated then. According to the time-table referred to, a freight train left Charleston at 5 o'clock A. M. and was due to arrive at Aiken at 9:45 the next morning. The distance is 120 miles, and the time allowed is 28 hours and 45 minutes—a little over four miles per hour. The freight train for Columbia covered the distance between that and this city in 29 hours, or traveled about half the distance which dozens of expert pedestrians have made in the same time in modern six-day go-as-you-please walking matches.

The South Carolina Railway Company is having the curious old relic of a forgotten era of railroading photographed, and the original will be preserved with care.Charleston News.

III. Weave tokens of love for the heroes in blue; weave

wreaths for the heroes in gray; Clasp brotherly hands o'er the graves that are

new-for the love that is ours today; A trinity given to bless, to unite-three glorious

records to keep, And a kinship that never a grievance shall sever

renewed where the brave are asleep!

IV. Spread flowers today o'er the Blue and the Gray

spread wreaths where our heroes rest; Let the song of the North echo back from the

South for the love that is truest and best ! Twine wreaths for the tombs of our Grant and our

Lee, one hymn for your father and mine! 0, the flag you adore is the banner for me and its

folds our dead brothers entwine.

-S. E. Kiser, in Chicago Times-Herald,

The Railroad of Fifty Years Ago.

The Section Boss's Lament.

Me father, me brother, says Danny the boss,

And all of me kin thot Oi iver have known Has worked on the road since they laid the first

tieRevered and renowned is the name of Malone, For twinty-wan years on the siction Oi've toiled: In the rain and the shine, in the summer and

fail; Because Oi was worthy, the roadmaster said,

They put me in here as the boss of thim all.

The people who have become accustomed to rapid transit as it is known and practiced by the railroads of the present day are prone to forget that tifty and less years ago railroading was in its infancy, and the most rapid trains of that day would have stood a poor chance of winning a race with a bicyclist of the present era.

This fact is called to mind just at present by a quaint old schedule of the South Carolina Railroad, dated March 1, 1852, which has recently been discovered among the archives of the company. The schedule is neatly framed, whether by the parties issuing it or at a subsequent date is not known, and is now hanging in the office of the general manager of the road. The document contains a schedule of the trains, freight and passenger, then running between Charleston and Columbia and Charleston and Hamburg, and is followed by a list of rules to govern conductors and engineers, and is signed by the officers of the road of that day.

Sure, me life was contint whin oi worked on the

road, And never so much as a kick did Oi make; But now Oi could quit any time of the day, When Oi thiuk of me head and the way it does

ache; For it's aisy to do what the siction boss sez, But, arrah, when you're bossing a hundred or

two It's different sure; it's the truth thot Oi spake,

For it's hell if you don't and it's hell if you do.

First the roadmaster comes an' he looks at the

job, Sure, sez he, you're not doing this track-laying

right; But it's Mr. White's blueprint, sez Oi, Mr. Flynn. Domn the blueprint, sez he, domn the print, and

domn White. Faith ye'll do ez Oi tell you or get off the job;

Sure, Oi will, Mr. Flynn, sez Oi, bowin' a few; And the chafe ingineer raised Nid the nixt day.

Sure, it's hell if you don't and it's hell if you do.
The superintendent comes 'long in his car.
Phat the hell is the matter? Look here, Dan

But the chafe ingineer gave the orders, sez Oi.

Domn the chafe ingineer; let him lav you alone. Thot's the way they go on, sure I'm spaking the

truth; For the poor siction boss has of troubles a few. Sure, Oi'd rather be back tampin'ties by the day, For it's hell if you don't and it's liell if you do.

-New York Sun.

Herman Hartvorker.

ve gafe dem der revolver; dey gafe us der schmollpox und we gafe dem der yellowjack; ve sent dem der botatoes, dey gafe us limburg cheese; dey sent us der poor man, ve send dem back der milyunairs; dey send us der emdy sack, ve send dem der full ones, und so und so. Ven Pat kum ofer bere mit his vheelbarrow, ve sent him back mit der automobeele. Der dago came along to sell us der batent right on his hant organ und ve built der phonegraph for him. Everyding vat gifs vas on our brogram. Motion, force, law, order und pills. Der is nodings in der long list vat ve ditten imbrove, inwent or insphire. If you dake masheenery, ve vas der hull ding. In law ve are der vonder of der vorlt; efery man his own lawyer dill der kase is kalled. Der poor man

ven he gomes to dis gountry is villing to dake eferyding along mit him but der laws. He leaves dem to der soldiers' home. In der music field ve got a long sthring von Home, Schweet Home to Hot Time. Dey laugh at our musik ofer dare, but it goes all right here. Dey kumn ofer to dis gountry to listen und sthay here; dey like der klink of our silfer better als der stbrains of der kordian or der doodle sack. Ve got eferydings here vat anyone can vant to see or know or hear or ead or trink or vear, sthill ve hear some fellas dalk apoud vat dey got in olt gountry."

Vell, dey got some pooty goot iteas ofer dare, anyway,” said Emil. " said Herman,

ven a fella gets an itea dare he comes qvick ofer here mit it. Ve got der monopole on dat sthuff.- Watertown (Wis.) Times.

« Oh, yes,

The Old Canoe.

Thinks Europe Is Not In It With America In

Most Things. “I hert two mans dalking togedder der odder day Herman, und vone of dem glaimed dat ve kopy afder Germany more als ve do afder any oder gountry. Der oder man say nixey, ve imitation England more als any.

Vat you dink?” “I dink,” said Herman, bringing his fist down on the counter with a thump, "dat ve dont kopy afder nopody, Emil. I dell you, ve

are der only orichinal greatest show on ert. Ven dem duffers ofer akross der pond vant to set a bace for Uncle Sam dey haf got to get oop. erly und

goinerise sawing vood. If somc olt skeezic ofer here dinks ve vatch for signs from ofer dare to fint out vich vay der vint vas bloosing, he vas youst a leedle soft und vas leckshuneering on a schmall 'skhale for der lunadic asylum. No siree. Ve dont haf to sit arount und vait for some olt kripple in der amen korner to git oop und tance us a shig. Ve invent our own kreashuns, und grapevine dwists und hoe it down to der musik of der spheres. Vone hundert years ako Europe vas youst like it vas dousand years ako. It vas feast und famine mit dem. Dey kut der grass mit a shack knife und der grain mit a hook. Ve gafe dem der grass mower und der reaper mitoudt pattering dem after der size und der hook. Dat gafe olt Europe der firsht skhware meal it efer had und gafe dis gountry der indichestion. Ve sent dem ofer der sewing machine und gafe dem a shange of klothing. For two dousand years dey hat been going rount mit vooden shoes, leder britches und kilties. Der pants me fader vore. On Sunday he trest in a suit of der pest, aber his pride vas der oli leder britches. Ve gafe dem feed und klothing und batent medesene. Dey gafe us der flail und ve gafe dem der drashmasheen; dey gafe us der sail shiff, ve send dem der stheamer; dey gafe us der dagger und


where the rocks are gray and the shore is steep.
And the waters below look dark and deep,
Where the rugged pine, in its lonely pride,
Leans gloomily over the murky tide,
Where the reeds and rushes are long and rank,
And the weeds grow thick on the winding bank,
Where the shadow is heavy the whole day through,
There lies at its moorings the old canoe.
The useless paddles are idly dropped,
Like seabirds' wings that the storms had lopped,
And crossed on the railing one o'er one,
Like the folded hands when the work is done,
While busily back and forth between
The spider stretches his silvery screen,
And the solemn owl, with his dull "Too-hoo,"
Settles down on the side of the old canoe.
The stern, half sunk in the slimy wave,
Rots slowly away in its living grave,
And the green moss creeps o'er the dull decay,
Hiding its moldering dust away,
Like the land that plants o'er the tomb a flower,
Or the ivy that mantles the falling tower;
While many a blossom of loveliest hue
Springs up o'er the stern of the old canoe.

I asked if he was not sleepy then. “Well, sometimes I go to sleep over the book, but she's learnin', and when she learns she'll like this better'n Italy."

There came to my mind: “Teach these foreign children our language, our laws, our liberty, and we will have good citi. zens."

But for the sake of good citizenship, would you, O Learned Educator, do what this little child of the slums is doing ?New York Evening Post.

The currentless waters are dead and still,
But the light wind plays with the boat at will,
And lazily in and out again
It floats the length of the rusty chain.
Like the weary march of the hands of time,
That meet and part at the noontide chime;
And the shore is kissed at each turning anew,
By the dripping bow of the old canoe.
Oh, many a time, with a careless hand,
I have pushed it away from the pebbly strand,
And paddled it down where the stream runs quick,
Where the whirls are wild and the eddies are

And laughed as I leaned o'er the rocking side,
And looked below in the broken tide,
To see that the faces and boats were two,
That were mirrored back from the old canoe.
But now, as I leau o'er the crumbling side,
And look below in the sluggish tide,
The face that I see there is graver grown,
And the laugh that I hear has a soberer tone,
And the hands that lent to the light skiff wings,
Have grown familiar with sterner things;
But I love to think of the hours that sped
As I rocked where the whirls their white sprayshed,
Ere the blossoms waved, or the green grass grew
O'er the moldering stern of the old canoe.

Her Name.

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The Little Teacher.

"I'm losted! Could you find me, please?"

Poor little frightened baby!
The wind had tossed her golden fleece,
The stone had scratched her dimpled knees;
I stooped and lifted her with ease,

A nd softly whispered: “Maybe.”
"Tell me your name, my little maid,

I can't find you without it."
'My name is Shiny eyes,” she said.
" Yes, but your last ?'' she shook her head;
"Up to my house 'ey never said

A single fing about it."
But dear," I said, “what is your name?"

“Why, didn't you hear me thold you ? Dust Shiny.eyes." A bright thought came: “Yes, when you're good; but when they blame You little one-it's just the same, • When mamma has to scold you?" ‘My mamma never scolds," she moans,

A little flush ensuing. ''Cept when I've been a-frowing stones, And then she says," the culprit owns, ".Mehetabel Sapphire Jones, What has you been a-doing?"

- Anna F. Burnhami.

" What

Joyous Fright.


Tne February Bulletin of the New York Public Library contains an article, Do Teachers Read?" by Mary Denson Pretlow. It closes with the following anecdote:

And last comes the littlest teacher of them all. By standing up very straight he could look across the top of my desk, and his eyes met mine unwaveringly as I accused him of having kept Baldwin's “Fifty Famous Stories” from August till December. He explained that at the end of every two weeks he left it in for a few days and I considered the matter settled. Five minutes later I looked up to find him still there. “Little boy, what do you want?” “ Please ma'ani, that book!"

This was too much. You've had it three months; why don't you take some other?

Because that's the only one she likes. “I've tried another; she won't even look at it."

“She, who is she?!! “The one I teachi."

I thought he was getting mixed. “The book you learn from, little boy ?”

No ma'am, the girl I teach.” “How old is she?"

He eyed me critically. “ 'Bout as big as you are.''

I began to feel small. Then lie told me all about it. She was the daughter of the Italian shoe mender, the one down the steps at the corner of “Tent' avnoo;" her father wasn't very kind to her; she knew no English and had no friends; he taught her in the evenings.

Lovely, charming little Dolly

A bashful little maid
Seening one day very jolly,

I thought I miglit persuade
To forsake her father's dwelling

And journey through this life-
Sad and gloomy thoughts dispelling --

My pretty, loving wife.
So I spoke in accents tender,

And drew her to my side,
For I thought she would surrender

When asked to be my bride.
But she started from me quickly.

Said neither nay nior yea;
But, as blushes gathered thickly,

“ I'm frightened; go away.” Then I thought that I'd offended

And nothing more could say;
I was sure my suit was ended;

I turned to go away.
Aud my heart with grief was laden,

But ere I'd passed the door,
Cried the charming little maiden,
" Please frighten me some more."

---Brooklyn Eagle.

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