TURNING THE POINTS. A RAILWAY PORTER'S STORY.

Waikato Times, Volume xxvi, Issue 2458, 8 May 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

TURNING THE POINTS. A RAILWAY PORTER'S STORY.

Told to aw Vicar. Bob Sciiatciikrtv was a parishioner of mine, and a strange specimen of a parishioner for any clergyman to own. He was a rugc;e'l, drizzly man of about fifty, with shaggy hair, sound heart and a wooden leg. His attendance at church was almost as irregular as his features, and wh<>u he did come his conduct was so strange that he quite alarmed me. So much so. that no one occasion, a bitter winter morning, I upset the glaaa of ice cold water which stood on the pulpit ledge, right on to the perfectly bald head of the clerk under,iieath. That clerk never forgave me, but suspected me of Ritualistic leanings for the rest of his life. This is a brief description of Bob Scratcherty'a eccentricity on the occasion I speak of, and it will serve as a fair sample. He made his appearance with what turned out to be in his opinion a walking-stick, but which I took to be, first an Indian club, ami then a new leg for the Vestry table. What with this weapon and hi? wooden leg he made, as he tramped up the aisle, a noise compared with which the clang of the wooden shoon was nowhere. After slowly lowering himself inte a seat, he glared suspisiously around. Before long he dropped into a doze, but only for about five minutes, when he woke with a start, and mado a savage lunge all round with the ludian club. This three-fold performance of dozing, walking, and lunging he kept up all the time I was preaching. I found the explanation of his uneasiness was to be traced back to the circumstance that upon one occasion some mischievous boys took advantage of an unusually refreshing sleep in which he was engaging during the sermon, to unscrew and secrete his wooden leg, extorting heavy black mail for its ransom. Boh Scratcherty could not write, and when he got his census paper one year, he asked me to fill it up for him. I called out the heading of each column, and then wrote down his answer. "Religion?" I called, and was then preparing to return him as a member of the orthodox Church, when to my amazement he repeated thoughtfully : " Religion — religion, is it?— wait a bit, sir, wait a bit." Willingly falliug into his sober humour, in the hope of a good exhibition of " character," I laid down my pen. " Yes," I said, " Religion— what shall I put down as your religion ?" Bob Scratcherty fell into serious reflection, and— a habit he had when thinking out auy abstruse idea— tenderly scratched his wooden member. I mean his leg, not his head. Then slowly he said, "My religion is this, sir , an' please put it down— turnin ' the points for the Down express !" "What?" I cried. "Turniij 1 the points for the down Express," he repeated. "Please write it down sir." This, however, I positively refused to do without an explanation. This explanation is the little tale I am going to tell you, as nearly as possible in the words of the gentlemau whose religiou Was — TUBNIXO THE POINTS FOX THE DOWN Expuess. The fact is, sir, I never knowed much about religion. My father was a proI fessional drunkard ; at least, 1 never see 'im do nothing else but drink. His noae, for size, an' colour, would ha' took the prize at any show. My mother were naterally a religions woman, but a touch of father's complaint, an' the cares an' worrits of a apple stall in Leadinghall Street, perwentcd of 'er, from a follerin' of it up, like. So, betueen the two, I were not properly instructed. I ain't sure as I was ever baptised, but I can answer to bein' waccinated. Whin I was a warmint of about ten, father dropped into a berry grave, 'is last dyin' words bein' a stool chucked at me an' mother. The doctor said r e 'ad the deliriorinms tremums. I don't know about that, but I know'e'd a parish funeral. The sale of Hiugerlish cholera in the shape of sour apples were not brisk enough, mother said, for to bury him at Westminster Habby. Mother ruined 'erself soon afterwards by a 'eavy spekelation in windfalls, an' 'inted I'd better f ook it, an' set the Thames a-fire by myself. An' as she follered up the 'mt by aturnin of me out, I thought I'd better take both the 'mt an' my 'ook, so I took em. I didn't set the Thamas a-fire but I 'awked wegetables. I'ad a pardncr wot started the business with me. He stole the wegetables : and I got the barrer lent me for nothin' without aratiiu' I didn't see the owner w'en I called for it— an' I were never passin' that way afterwards for to give 'im a call. Well, sir, 'tis only a short story I've got to tell yer, au' Tin getting well into it after my own style. I 'ad all sorts of hup 3 an' downs, but there was more downs than hups. I 'aye 'ecred as W every mountain 'as its walley, an' every walley its mountain, but my life were more walleys than mountaneous. But at last a reg'lar 'igh old mountain of a hup come in my way. I got a berth as a sort of hodd man at the Jumble Junction of the Great Manglem Railway. My dooties was to do anything that wasn't good-enough like for a porter. I wera a good deal jumped on by the other gentl'tnen at the junction, pnrtickler by the reg'lar porters, but I were allowed some privileges, includin' ringin' a big bell, an' 'ollerin out the name of the station, an' sometimes takin' a message to Bill Reynolds in the big signal box outside the Junction. He were arum chap, Bill Reynolds— a reg'lar right-down genuyne roarin' Methodist. None of yer cantin' kind, but one of the right sort, sir, as meant all 'c said. I told yer just now as I didn't know much about religion, but I always thought there was something in it, an* soon a3 I knowed Bill Reynolds well I knowed there was something in it. One cold Saturday afternoon, close on Christmas, w'eu traffic wa9 gettin' very 'eavy, I got sent up to Bill's bo\ with a message from the station-master. I 'ad been at Jumble Junction then four or five months, an* me an' Bill Reynolds knowed each other well, an' used often for to 'aye a chat together. "Ther'sa mootin' to-morrow," says Bill, " wilt go lad ? 'Twill do tht« good." II Are you goin,' Bill ?'' I says. "Nay lad," says Bill, shakin, 'is 'cad, " 'ere in this box, all day long, I must praise God by a-doin' my dooty, But thou canst go, for 'tis a short day wi thee— au' maybe thou wilt hear that which will do thy soul good," 'c says again. Mister, I shall never forget that Sunday long a3 I live. 'Twas my short Sunday, as Bill 'ad said ; an' w'en the evenin' came I cleaned myself up an' went Jown to the meetiu' as I promised Bill Reynolds. I felt very shy, an' sort of on the wrong metals, hut I catched 'old o' one o' Bill's pals, an' I ses, " Mate," ses I, " Jcs' shunt me into a sidiu,' will yer, where I shall be out o' the way ?" — an' I gets a nice quiet seat in a corner. 'Twas almost the fust sermon I ever 'eered, an' I've never forgot it The text was the words "Wot gave His life a raudsome for many." 'Twas late when the ineetin' broke up, 'but them word?, w>' the wonderful We

Jest a little two much — Twins. The King and Queen of Sweeden hay become teetotallers. Mb Gladstone's enemies in London derive great pleasure from repeating these four lines of doggerel : " Into power he comes the third time With projects po,daik and so s-ini-ter, That no longer we call him the Piiine, But rather the Pa,*t-his-Prime Minister." Dr. Macdonald, the new member of Parliament for the University of Edinburgh, is an "angel 11 in the Swedenborgian Church. Aud some of his simpleminded co-religionists fear that he may become a fallen angel in wicked London. John B. Gougii's estate is estimnted at less than 75,000 dollars. He leaves a house and 200 acres of valuable land about cix miles from Worcester. His library is valued at 2,000 dollars. His personal property will yield hid widow an income of 25,000 dollars. Lighting up a TmaHBON'E. —An interesting surgical operation was recently performed at the New York Post Graduate Medical School, in which electricity played a very important part. Disease was suspected in the hip of a young man of 22, and the doctors introduced a small drill, or electric'Osteotomc, into the bone, gradually with its aid cutting away the diseased portions, in order to see which a tiny electric lamp, no larger than a pea and with a filament as fine as a hair, was placed in the hole 'in the bone, and "flashed up" at intervals of a few seconds, the filament being so fragile that it could bear the current only for an instant at a time. It is said that the light made the interior of the bone as clear to the eye as if it were laid open on the dissecting table. Colonel Bi/RLEiorr, who accompanied the Soudan expedition as correspondent of the Daily Telegraph, was presented at Glasgow on Fcbriiaiy 17tli with a clock and statuette and purse contuning £300. While the Committee charged with the presentation were calling on Colonel Bu Weigh a sheriff's officer appeared with a warrant, claiming all the presents from the Chairman on behalf of Mr Tagg, agajnst whom Colonel B'irleigh had brought an action for slander, the suit being an putcotnc of the late electoral campaign. .Mr Tagg brought a counter-action, aud both cases are now pending. Mr Tagg's intention to secure possession of the presents had become known in some way, aud they had been given to Burleigh in private. When the sheriff's 1 officer appeared the Colonel, holding the purse aloft, declared he had a (food grip on it, and intended to keep it. The Committee thereupon cheered the Colonel, and wound up the meeting by singing •' He's a jolly good fellow." A civil case of a peculiar nature came before tht R.M. at Oam aru the other day. It wai an action by the Queen, otherwise the Postal Officials, to recover from Alexander Young the sum of £10. Mr T.W.Hislop appeared for the plaintiff, and Mr Newton for the defendaut. From the evidence for the plaintiff it appeared that Young on February 12 applied at the Post-office for a moneyOlder on Waimate for £10. Mr Birrell, the chief clerk, handed him the customary requisition form to fill up, and then went to lunch, leaving the junior clerk to make out the order. This Mr Pattei*3on did, and on asking Young for the money ho (Young) said he had paid the money to Mi' Birrell, but that he had not paid the commission. Mr Patterson said it was uuu3ual for Birrell to take the money and go away, but if Young was sure he had paid the money he would take his word. Young gave hisasaarance, and having paid the shilling commission, took the order and left. Afterwards, on the cish being found £10 ihort, Young wat sent for, and he then, according to the witnesses for the plaintiff, made several contradictory statements as to the payment of the money. When placed in the box ho swore most positively that he had paid the money. His Worship, in giving judgment for plaintiff, «ai<l that the onus of proof of payment reste'l with the defeudant, who had failed to establish, his case, ,

the preacher told ua about 'cm, seemed to burn in my 'cart, an' I kep' sayin, 'on over an' over agin as I walked home. " Give His life a ramlsome for many !" The night was bitter, cruel cold. The snow 'ad bern fallin', an' there it all lay over the great w ide Jidda, all white an' shinin' an' beautiful in the moonlight. I thought I'd go down to the station an' 'avea chut with Bill Reynolds, p'raps, w'en 'c cum off dooty. The words kep' ringin' in my ears as I walked on : "Give his life as a ransom for many !" Juat as I got to the station, I see a 'eavy goods train, long and loaded, steam thro', slow, oa the down metals. She was bound north, an 1 would turn off at a junction about three miles down the line. I stood a leauin' agin the station palms outside, an' watched 'er go thro' A minute passed. Then the church clock struck the 'our. Twelve! Twelve o'clock. The down express from London due. Overdue three minutes. I raised my eyes to Bill's box. The sigual stands •• Live dear !" But the dowu express? Has ahe passed ? Goo I God ! There — there —at sixty miles an hour— 'er lamps like great glarin' eyos-Good God ! she' 3 comin' ! — Comiu'— the goods "train before 'cr — she'll catch 'em where the line curves round. The sidin'— God 'dp me— the sidin'. A wild spring over the railings— on the Hue— my 'and on the lever, tiashin' the red light beside it, an' tubxin of the points ! I don't remember no more till I woke in the 'ospital. Then they told me wot I'd done, Just in time, I'd turned the points — just in time to turn the down express on to a long, clear sidin' where she soon pulled up, an' not a life were lost, nor a limb broke. They found me lyin' in the show, an' took me for dead, for the engin 'ad catched me some'ow (though I managed to hold on till the train 'ad passed), an' my leg was wounded an' 'elpless. An I lay, white an blecdin', but mutterin' somcthink they did'nt understand about the meetin', 'nn Him wot gave his life to save many. Bill Reynolds, Bir ? He 'ad been on dooty for eighteen hours without a break —eighteen hours in the bitter cold— eighteen hours with weary body and acliin brain. An' they found 'im dead, sir— dead in 'is box— dead at 'is post of dooty, with the signal up, " Line clear," Poor old Bill Reynolds ! while 'c stood up there in 'is cold, icy box, a signal went up for 'im — "Lino clear " — an' Bill passed right thro' to the terminus. That's 'oiv I lost my leg, sir; an 1 that's why I says put down my religion, 11 Turniu' the Points for the Down hxpress "—'cos I ain't done nothink in the way of religion 'ceptln' savin' the lives of them people in the Down Express by ashuntin' of it on to the sidiD.' But I ain't sure that there were not more religion in me w'en I done that than in them rich directors of the Great Manglem Railway as allowed poor Bill Reynolds, all numbed and cold' to work eighteen hours at a stretch. Poor old Bill Reynolds, as were found dead !— From Character Sketches, by Robert OVEATON.