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Updated: August 7, 2024
Albert clutched his valise, and pulled his cap firmly down on his head. "Here goes!" he muttered. "Hold y'r breath!" shouted the brakeman. Albert swung himself to the platform before the station a platform of planks along which the snow was streaming like water. "Good-night!" shouted the brakeman. "Good-night!" "All-l abo-o-o-ard!" called the conductor somewhere in the storm.
And after the new engine had been backed champing down, and harnessed to its long string of vestibuled sleepers; after the air-hose had been connected and examined; after the engineer had swung out of his cab, filled his cups, and swung in again; after the fireman and his helper had disposed of their slice-bar and shovel and given the tender a final sprinkle, and after the conductor had walked leisurely forward, compared time with the engineer, and cried, "All Abo-o-o-ard!" then, as your coach moved slowly ahead, you might notice, under the receding catalpas, the little girl waving a parasol or a handkerchief at the outgoing train.
"All-l abo-o-o-ard!" called the conductor somewhere in the storm; the brakeman swung his lantern, and the train drew off into the blinding whirl, and the lights were soon lost in the clouds of snow. No more desolate place could well be imagined.
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