RANDOM READINGS.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VIII, Issue 733, 30 December 1914, Page 7

RANDOM READINGS.

'A TRAIN SEVEN YEARS LATE!

On the authority of an American correspondent, the "Railway Magazine" records the story of a train which reached its destination more thani seven years behind time on a part of the Gulf and Interstate Railway, now included in the- Atchison Topelta, and Santa Fe system. The train started from Beaumont, Texas, bound for Port Bolivar, at 11.30 a.m. on September Bth, 1900. The distance is sev-enty-one miles, and the train was due in Port Bolivar at 1.55 p.m.. It maintained it?y schedule for the first thirtythree miles to High Island. There it was surrounded by waters from the Gulf of Mexico, which had crept more than thirty-eight miles inland, and flooded the railway. When the waters subsided the train was high and dry on the prairie, the only rails left being those on which it stood. For miles up and down the line not a vestige of track remained. After hours of terror the passengers made their escape through the mud. The engine and four cars were abandoned, and remained a landmark. Eventually the affairs of the Gulf and Inter-state revived. The road fi'as rebuilt, and at last the rails from either end were connected with those under the long overdue train. At first it was proposed to tow the weatherbeaten equipment to its original destination. The machinists looked over the rusty locomotive, and pronounced her fit to complete her journey. They fired her lip, and amid the clic us of everyone she moved off, creaking and "rheumatic" in her .joints, but siilf serviceable. The news was telegraphed to Port Bolivar, and when the train, more than seven years late, arrived, half a dozen of the original passengers assembled to greet it, and the fact that it had actually reached its destination was telegraphed all over the country."

ANECDOTES OF A MAD KING,

In "My Past," by Countess Marie Lariscli, there are some curious stories of the mad King Ludwig of Bavaria:

fsiKing Ludwig 11. of Bavaria would allow no servants to wait on him at dinner, and when he pressed a spring his round table sank through a 11019 in the floor; the next course was then set, and the table assended into the dining-room again. Plenty of champagne in ice pails was placed near the King, and if the table did not return quickly enough he flung some bottles through the hole, as an emphatic reminder to tho servants below that he objected to be kept waiting.

The King had a wonderful winter garden at Munich, which' l mc built on the roof of the Residenz. Thei? was also an artificial lake with a painted panoramic, background of the Himalaya mountains, and when the King sat in the gardens a "property" moon shed its gaseous light over the snow-capped peaks. Queen Marie's bedroom was immediately under the winter garden, and one night the Queen, wha was laid up with a heavy-cold, was terrified out of her wits when she discovered that the lake was leaking through the ceiling, and that a steady downpour was falling on her bed.

The unfortunate lady did not quite know what to do, as she had been strictly enjoined by lier doctors to keep in one temperature; she hastily summoned her attentants, however, and they brought a large umbrella, under which she took shelter until the leakage was repaired.

The King used often to command artistes from the theatre to perform in the winter gardens, and I remember the fate which befel Josephina Scliefzky, a larg-e, tall woman, whose one wish in life was to attract Ludwig's notice. As all the singers sang- hidden behind screens, Josephina's chances of meeting the King face to face were exceedingly small; but what- woman is ever at a loss for an expedient? Slits knew how chivalrously romantic Ludwig could be on occasions, so she decided she would fall into the lake,; and entreat him to rescue her. The eventful evening arrived, Josephine warbled lver sweetest for the benefit of the listening monarch, and when the song- was over plung-ed heavily into the lake. There was a tremendous noise, and the water splashed to the topmost summit of the "Himalayas," but the lady remained chin-deep in the lake, whose still waters were not so deep as they looked. "Save me, save me, Lohengrin!" cried the agitated singer. The King rang the bell. "Get that woman out of the lake and • send her home,"' he commanded, and the dripping Josephina, sadder and wiser, walk--ed out of the water and out of the Resident for ever.