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Updated: April 30, 2025
The brakemen refused to join the engine-men, though sympathizing with them, but the switchmen were easily persuaded. The switchman of a decade ago could always be counted upon to fight. In behind his comb, tooth-brush and rabbit's foot, he carried a neatly folded, closely written list of grievances upon which he was ready to do battle. Peace troubled his mind.
"How far is it to Corinto, please?" he asked. "Fifty miles." "Whew! So far as that?" "Yes. Belong to the show?" "Well, not exactly. I'm with them, but I can't say that I belong to the outfit, and I'm glad I don't." "Should think you would be glad," growled the switchman, who evidently held the Sully combination in no high regard. "Which way do the trains go for Corinto?" "That way.
Run a few hundred yards up beyond the station, Knight. I'll jump off and have the switch thrown, and then you can back in on the side-track." They coasted slowly into Kingston, and passed the station. Andrews jumped off. Tom, hanging out from the cab, saw him talking with the switchman. The latter threw the switch and waved. "All right," said Tom. "Let her go back."
But in a moment of fatigue, or because he had to work inhumanly long hours of work, which exhausted all his nervous elasticity, or for other reasons, the switchman forgets to set the switch and causes a railroad accident, in which people are killed and wounded. Can it be said that he intended the first act? Assuredly not, for he did not intend anything and did not do anything.
"Oh! couldn't I? then let yourself drop to the ground till I take a little of the conceit out of you." "No, I won't fight you," said the man, "I like your face and I want you to help me out." "And I like your nerve; now, what's your pleasure? Have you been working in this strike?" "I started to work this morning only to get something to eat on." "Are you a railroad man?" "I'm a switchman.
I felt a tingling sensation, as if the blood were coming to the surface all over me. A switchman, and a stranger, waved us welcome with a yard of flaming bunting. I hurried out of the car and alighted within half a mile of Heartsease. On the platform, where I had parted with my schoolmates fifteen years before, I waited till the train had passed onward and out of sight.
I have not myself been in Lucca, but I conceive that its piazza is not like our square, with a pump and horse-trough in the midst; but that it has probably a fountain and statuary, though not possibly so magnificent an elm towering above the bronze or marble groups as spreads its boughs of benison over our pump and the horse-car switchman, loitering near it to set the switch for the arriving cars, or lift the brimming buckets to the smoking nostrils of the horses, while out from the stable comes clanging and banging with a fresh team that famous African who has turned white, or, if he is off duty, one of his brethren who has not yet begun to turn.
"Only one that I know anything of," responded McCarthy. "There can't be many, or the old switchman wouldn't have to lend me his key." "Lem Wacker subbed for him once, didn't he?" inquired Bart pointedly. "Yes, for a day or two say! you don't think " began the watchman, with a start of suspicion. "I'm not thinking anything positive," interrupted Bart "I am only seeking information.
It sometimes does, even if some switchman doesn't flag it. Everything going out and nothing coming in, as the vulgarians say. Money was lacking to pay Mr. Magister and Herr Rosenstock their prices. When one loves one's Art no service seems too hard. So, Delia said she must give music lessons to keep the chafing dish bubbling. For two or three days she went out canvassing for pupils.
He had been waiting nearly two hours when the switchman came in. "I had a hard time finding a purchaser," explained the striker, "and finally when I did sell it I could only get twelve dollars and they made me give my name and tell how I came to have such a coat.
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