I have always had a fashion wheresoever I am about of getting into conversation with "all sorts and conditions of men," and it is astonishing what a curious and immense amount one thus - gets at of odd experiences, minds and information which never finds its way iuto any book-lore.
Each unit of the great human family, be he ever so humble and ignorant, will know something wbich another does not, and have had some experience, however trifling, which another has not.
You will find, too, if you keep your eyes, ears and sympathies open, that under the surface of these so-called hard, prosaic days there lies far more of romance and dramatic element than many folks suppose. It is human nature in its very essence from its Alpha to its Omega which occasionally bursts forth in some grand form that all the world musts needs recognise, but is mostly scattered hidden away in humdrum lives and secret heart-niches, These have to be got at, where perhaps they are least expected.
Amongst my many such experiences and free and easy 'chummings', I remember one which may interest you, as it did me.
Some yeare ago I found myself obliged to wait a couple of hours at a little wayside station for the train that would take me on to my destination.
I soon noticed a tall, powerful-looking man, about forty-five to fifty, sitting on a bench at the far end of the platform. His dress and whole appearance told the railway employee.
Of course, I speedily ranged up alongside, and got into a chat, and I found that he was an engine-driver, also awaiting my train, on his way back home, after having been called to London to give some evidence for the Company in a damage action.
We sat backing the track, but facing a long disused coal-siding, on which stood a derelict truck. On this was playing, as we talked, a small country boy of tender years ; but presently the child climbed down, and began to roll its ball between the disused metals, which ended at the truck.
Nothing could possibly come along it from the main track; the brae was as safe as at home, yet my new friend startled me by suddenly breaking off his conversation to call out with a sharpness that belied his kindly face --
"Get out of the track, at once boy ! D'ye hear ? Get out !"
The urchin started, laughing at what he thought fun.
"Me shan't," said he ; "me plays in dis always."
The man sprang into the siding, snatched up the astonished and now frightened child, and .set him on the platform with a rough push and "" Get out when you're told, you little beggar ! Get home !"
And as the urchin ran away in terror, the man came back, and almost dropped on to the bench. He was deadly pale, and shaking from head to foot - this fine strong fellow.
I felt at once that there was something more behind this upset, which doubtless the trifling incident had recalled. Had the poor fellow had a child killed on the line? But I didn't speak, ' only put my hand gently on his arm for a minute in silent sympathy, and in a few moments he recovered himself with a gratefully earnest "Tbank you, ma'am."
Then after a pause he added huskily, with a shiver, " I beg pardon, but I couldn't help it ; I can't abear to see a child on the line - l never shall again - never no more, I b'lieve ; the sight of it just upsets me like as if it was all yesterday. "
"Yes," I said gently, "that is the way too often after a great shock to the nervous system. One never quite gets over it if anything recalls it vividly."
" Just so, ma'am - you take me quite," said the engine-driver, with the eager gladness of being understood, and of having put into words for him the feeling he had no language to adequately express. "I'll 'tell you how it was if so be you'd care to hear."
" Care ! I should be more than pleased and interested," I answered ; "that is, if it does not pain you too much to tell me the story."
"No, no, ma'am, thank ye kindly. I feel honoured by your being interested. It ain't much to sound so fur, but; to me - well, there, I can't never see a kid twixt them metals again without making a fool of myself, so it's no use to say I can."
He paused a minute, and then sometimes looking straight out before him, sometimes at me, he said -
"Well, it happened five years ago or thereabouts. I was on this line, as l am still - have been these fifteen years. Do you know the line . when it gets up northwards into Blankshire ?"
"No, not intimately," I said ; "it's years since I was through Blankshire."
"Ah, well, there's a part where the country's very flat- leastways, not hilly - but when you've passed L --- there's a splendid running bit, where the track keeps nearly a bee-line, bless you, for seven miles down a slight decline, but still which it's the devil to pull up short in ! beg pardon, the word hopped out." I smiled.
"That doesn't matter, my friend no need to fash over this word or that, with me. I understand." "Thank you, ma'am. Well, we chaps call that 'the straight seven,' and if we've lost a few minutes before reaching it we always reckon to make up time there easy without putting on steam or waste of coal for the engine. We just let her have it as she is, and Lord ! she'll go, I tell you! When you come round the curve into the straight seven you can see ahead the whole distance where the track goes into a cutting again."
"Is the curve sharp, so that you have to slack off speed?" I asked.
"Oh, no, ma'am, the curve's very slight after L--- . Well, one day we left L--- three or four minutes late, so I says to my mate - Jem, 'It don't matter ; we shall make the time square at the straight.' We always get up full speed about three or four miles before we get to it, and being all snug and quiet for a good ; way there wasn't much to be done but for me to keep my usual look-out ahead. '
"'Here we are, Jem, and now for a spin,' bays I joyously, as we dashed into the running bit. I've got a wonderful long keen sight, and in that second I caught sight of a small white object in the track right away far ahead. I could see it was a little child dancing to its own shadow, never seeing the train tearing on behind it like a mad devil. If I was to live a hundred ; f ears I. could never forget that awful moment," said the man hoarsely, putting one hand over 'his eyes - "nor the few minutes that followed. 'Jem, the brake ! the brake !' I shouted, and started the steam whistle shrieking like a demon to frighten the child from the track, then shut off the steam. The poor baby heard the whistle end saw the black monster coming on behind. I heard her shriek of terror above the roar of the train - yes, I did, I'll swear it was not fancy - and then, my God ! she started running away from the train straight on in the track. Fancy that sight - and I with children of my own !
"Nothing in the world can in one minute bring to a dead stop a train at high speed going down ever so slight a gradient, and though she was slacking every second with steam shut off and brakes on as hard as we dared till she had got nothing less. The sweat stood out on me in great beads, every nerve felt stretched and dragged to breaking, and to breathe seemed like tearing my heart up. Minutes ! - Lord above ! I say it was a lifetime from the start after that innocent baby to the last clap down of the brakes that brought the train to a sharp standstill, that sent the coaches, buffers, and chains clashing and driving into each other as if the train was alive - brought her up within half a foot of the child. Think of that !
"I remember leaping off my engine, and catching up the baby Into my arms frantically, as if I was mad, and then I burst into an agony of sobbing that was like tearing me to pieces. I couldn't help it, for all the people that were crowding round ; and then all seemed confusion to me, only for the little creature that was clinging so to me, bless her - " He stopped abruptly.
"Poor fellow !" I said, deeply moved ; "such a terrible strain would have shattered any man, much more a father. And where did the child come from?"
" A cottage a good way off, ma'am, they told me afterwards," he answered, drawing a long breath - poor fellow, he had almost lived again the horror of that race in recalling it - " but at the time I couldn't feel like knowing anything, only that I'd got to take my train on somehow. And I did - to the next station, no further, you believe me - I simply couldn't.
" I had nervous fever after that, and then it was months and months before I could bake a train over that track again, that's a fact, ma'am ; and as you see by me to-day, I can't never stand seeing any child getting between the metals - no, not if two lines of rail was laid down in my back garden. Ah!,- here comes our train, ma'am, and I'll carry your bag, please," he added, taking it.
"Thank you ; and thank you so much for your deeply interesting story," I said, as we got into the same compartment." You're too kind to have listened to it, ma'am," said he, simply ; " for it's nothing much seems like to tell - only an Engine Driver's Story."
[The End.]
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