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Updated: June 24, 2025
Over his shoulders the shiny ropes of rain whipped and lashed across the space between the cars. The windows streamed as each succeeding gust flung its miniature freshet against them. The passengers in the car there were but four of them did not seem greatly interested in the brakeman's announcement.
It is evident from this "always" that the connection between car moving and smoke stopping was a purely empirical one in the brakeman's mind, bred of habit. Here the passenger's certainty that the smoking would stop would have been much increased if he had, as Professor James suggests, reasoned to the cause, instead of trusting to the brakeman's generalization from experience.
It was properly the brakeman's business to keep the car clean, but when Ray got back to the depot, Giddy was nowhere to be found. Muttering that all his brakemen seemed to consider him "easy," Ray went down to his car alone. He built a fire in the stove and put water on to heat while he got into his overalls and jumper. Then he set to work with a scrubbing-brush and plenty of soap and "cleaner."
It wasn't my duty to pass it through till you shouted for signals. There ain't any schedule for bum freights. When they're late it's up to them." But for all Mr. Moss's contempt, and righteous indignation, the brakeman's charge had had its effect. Well enough he remembered the disjointed connecting rod, and he wondered how these "hold-ups" had contrived it under his very nose.
It was the brakeman's cry, and an instant later the train rolled into the vast and gloomy depot, and every one was scrambling up and making for the door. In a moment they were upon the platform, amid a surging, pushing mass of people. "Which way?" asked Richard, somewhat confused by the unusual bustle. "This way," replied the sailor. "Just follow me." "West Shore this side! Checks for baggage!
Let me see there was Lovely Lulu, or the Doctor's Darling, and Margaret Merriman, or the Maiden's Mad Marriage, and True Gold, or Pretty Crystal's Love, and The American Countess, or Hearts Aflame, and this one I was just speakin' of, Genevieve Carleton, or the Brakeman's Bride.
Could there be any walking so delightful as that which these afforded? Surely not! Ah! Madge and Helen were probably just starting for their walk now. Did they know of her banishment? would they laugh at the thought of Queen Hildegardis vegetating for three months at a wretched "Glenfield!" The brakeman's voice rang clear and sharp through the car.
"Why? were you there?" "Yes, I came in on the same train. Just caught a glimpse of your face in the light of the brakeman's lantern. How did you get here?" "Freight, two hours later." "You 're not a bum, or you would n't be working." I put one foot on the wheel, but he touched me on the sleeve with his cane. "Wait a minute," and there was more animation in the tone.
As he named the list he was conscious that it smacked rather too suggestively of a brakeman's, and he saw she thought so too, for she turned aside to hide a smile. "You might sit down; won't you?" he suggested, eager that she should not depart. Flecking the dust from the soap box with his handkerchief, he dragged it forward and placed it near the workbench.
As, with the brakeman's good offices, I succeeded in dislodging it from its horizontal position, a voice behind me called out, "Good-bye, little Tut-tut!" which offensive remark was at once caught up by others.
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