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Updated: June 26, 2025
"I've done that very thing myself many a time! Just place a good hard tru I mean stone, with a bit of common dust sprinkled over it, in the middle of the rut, and they'll look out for THAT rut for some time to come." "Ain't it gorgeous," said the husky road-worker, chuckling joyfully, "to see 'em bump?" "It is," said I "gorgeous."
I know now how the surgeon must feel at the crucial moment of his accomplished operation. Will the patient live or die? The road-worker drew a long breath as he came out from under the anesthetic. "I guess, partner," said he, "you're trying to put a stone or two in my ruts!" I had him! "Exactly," I exclaimed eagerly. We both paused.
"I see," said I, "that the new spectacles are a good fit." The road-worker laughed long and loud. "You're a good one, all right," he said. "I see what YOU mean. I catch your point." "And now that you've got them on," said I, "and they are serving you so well, I'm not going to sell them to you at all.
It shows that something is happening to him." With that we walked back to the road, feeling very close and friendly and shovelling again, not saying much. After quite a time, when we had nearly cleaned up the landslide, I heard the husky road-worker chuckling to himself; finally, straightening up, he said: "Say, there's more things in a road than ever I dreamt of."
I said not a word to the husky road-worker and pretended not to look at him, but I saw him well enough out of the corner of my eye. He was evidently astonished and interested, as I knew he would be: it was something entirely new on the road. He didn't quite know whether to be angry, or amused, or sociable.
He was the road-worker. I asked the road-worker if he had seen the curious signs. "Yes," he said, "but they ain't for me." "Then you don't follow the advice they give?" "Not with a section like mine," said he, and he straightened up and looked first one way of the road and then the other.
"When you put them on you will see a thousand wonderful things besides the road " "Then you ain't road-worker after all!" he said, evidently trying to be bluff and outright with me.
But it was not until we reached the subject of oiling that we mounted to the real summit of enthusiastic agreement. Of all things on the road, or above the road, or in the waters under the road, there is nothing that the road-worker dislikes more than oil. "It's all right," said he, "to use oil for surfacin' and to keep down the dust. You don't need much and it ain't messy.
"Yes," said I, with a sudden inspiration, "that's exactly what I am a road-worker." "Put her there, then, partner," he said, with a broad smile on his bronzed face. We both knew the trade and the tricks of the trade; all bars were down between us. The fact is, we had both seen and profited by the peculiar signs at the roadside. "Where's your section?" he asked easily.
Just at this moment, perhaps fortunately, for there is nothing so difficult to satisfy as the appetite of people for specific information, a motor-car whizzed past, the driver holding up his hand in greeting, and the road-worker and I responding in accordance with the etiquette of the Great Road. "There he goes in the ruts again," said the husky road-worker.
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