Reminiscent ramblings

Front matter

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Class C T>1 *~

Book -Wa^ ft^

Chapter III

The train pulled away from the station, the loungers gradually dispersed, following down the main street in the wake of the old village postmaster and his mail bag. Timidly entering the waiting room, Mr. Kegler, the master mechanic, was located, and the letter tremblingly presented. Beside him stood the superintendent of the division, Mr. Z. V. K. Wilson, to whom (after reading the letter carefully and shoving it in a side pocket of his coat) an introduction followed. Mr. Wilson was the typical railway superintendent of that day, in which such lordly and responsible positions were intrusted only to men of ripe years, whose dignified inertness seemed indispensable and more to be relied upon than the activity, feverish anxiety, and unrestrained zealousness of one whose years yet lacked the number requisite to guarantee fixed habits and unswerving character. He was a somewhat pudgy, and rather elderly looking gentleman, with nose glasses, lengthy side whiskers and a little Astrakhan cap, cylindrical in shape and with no fore-piece; and was unmistakably a great man, for a locomotive named for him stood in the yard near by, and the long array of capital letters on tender and cab attracted the attention and impressed one with the belief that he must certainly be of importance or they would not have employed so much alphabet in naming him, and later so much paint in placing it upon the locomotive.

In critical examination Mr. Wilson adjusted his nose glasses carefully, and looking first entirely over the top of my head, finally got the range and lowered the line of sight gradually until it rested at the feet ; then raising it quickly to the starting point, where he permitted it to rest while he spoke, said, "Well, I guess he'll get along all right if he knows enough, and he looks like mebbe he does."

The shops across the freight yard from the depot, with the black smoke pouring from the great stack, presented a formidable appearance and inclined one to the belief that Mr. Wilson's thorough inspection was not unwarranted. The main buildings, as was the custom in earlier railway operation, enclosed under one roof the round-house, machine shop and forging department. At the head or front of the structure stood the round-house for the storage of locomotives. Not the modern crescent shaped affair of to-day, with turn-tables outside and switches leading to each stall, but a round house in the more strict sense of the word, or rather in this case a house in which the ground plan was that of a dodecagon, two of the faces being occupied by the track which passed through the figure and to the machine shop beyond, while each of those remaining represented a stall with tracks leading at regular angles from a central turn-table. This round-house portion was covered by a conical-shaped roof, from the apex of which rose a short tower or cupola. Attached to this and extending rearward was a large hip-roofed annex, embracing not only machine shop and forging department as stated, but boiler and engine room also, from which source power was generated for the entire works. !N"ear the boiler room was a small building called the rail shop, in which the battered ends of rails were cut off, that the rail might be relaid and form a more perfect joint, About one hundred feet from the machine shop was the car department, and still further on, the painting department. These, together with the lumber yard and a large building for the storage of seasoned lumber, embraced practically the whole establishment, but were enough, together with tracks, switches, cars, engines, etc., to thoroughly confuse a verdant mind.

When, however, one entered the great round-house, and a circle of locomotives stood frowning from all directions, with their attendants and wipers scurrying about ; and later still when the machine shop was reached, with its mass of machinery and its network of whirling pulleys, shafts and belts, and their din of movement added to by the hammering and filing, together with the roar of the forges and the pounding of the great trip-hammer in the forge department beyond, it seemed that without going farther, there already presented itself a mass of detail that forbade all hope of ever mastering. It was an appalling demonstration of complex and unfamiliar operations, far too much so to ever hope mastering; and again arose the vision of Donahue and a longing to surrender all this for a life of service with him at building piers.

The village hotel, which was to become the writer's home, and which stood facing the depot and close beside the railway track, differed little in architecture from that employed in country towns throughout this section during the preceding century, being a frame structure three stories in height, with the first and second floors each opening upon a piazza which extended along the entire front and across the end next the railway. Wooden shutters protected the windows of each floor, and when not thus employed, resolved themselves into stately and dignified sentries pinned against the wall on either side thereof, or swung to and fro with each passing breeze. The whole (sometime since) had been painted white, with the exception of the shutters, which, of course, were green.

From near each end of the "hip" roof and from its very apex there arose a low chimney, while several large elm trees along the front provided formidable hitching posts for the teams of country patrons, and cast their sheltering shade upon the whole. The place bore no sign, but was known far and near as "Howe's Hotel."

REMINISCENT RAMBLINGS.

Approaching the steps, there emerged from the main hallway (with awkward and ungainly ;— - strides, to each

of which the head bowed assent) a tall, lank individual, in age past three score years. His shoulders were stooped, his legs bowed, his long arms dangled by his sides and his thin face was smoothly shaven, save a carefully preserved fringe of beard, the ends of which appeared like a drought - suffering hedge above the crest of the standing collar with which his throat and neck were fenced. In his hand he held a huge dinner bell, which upon reaching the porch he swirled about his head with a certain awkward grace, when

John Howe.

REMINISCENT BAMBLINGS. 57

with sinuous curves it fell past his side, passing partially behind him, then returning, described a double loop or figure eight in front, thence back to the point of commencement in repetition of the act, the tones of the bell meanwhile marking accurate time, to which his lean, lank form swayed and bent in perfect unison. It was John Howe, the proprietor, born and reared somewhere over in the Green Mountains of Vermont ; he had long followed the keeping of hotels or taverns, and for many years ere the writer was born, had each meal-time wielded the dinner bell upon this same old porch. Finishing his unique exhibition of bell ringing he started to re-enter the hall, when, being confronted with a new applicant for board and lodging, he made shift of the bell to the left hand, and extending his bony right, said : "How de do, boy, jest go right in, supper's already waitin' fer ye."

The dining room bore evidence of having undergone some change from the original design, through the removal of two partitions, and a consequent enlargement in somewhat irregular form. Here from the center of each of the three tables arranged about the room, an ornate silverplated castor towered with the dignity of its period. At each plate and employed for each of the three meals was the indispensable little red napkin. Crowning all was an intricate mass of bright-colored paper, cut in fancy designs and suspended from the ceiling above each table, forming a cosy retreat for the myriad of flies that also boarded here during the summer months. Seated at the writer's table were two lady school teachers, a livery stable keeper, a jeweler, a druggist, a store clerk and a journeyman tailor, representing every industry of the town except the saw mill and the village newspaper.

The sleeping room allotted was on the upper floor and at the extreme southeast end of the building. It had one window with seveninch by nine-inch panes of glass, and opened out upon the stable yard below. An old green shade hung sullenly from a roller which would not roll; its lower half had been whipped about by the zephyrs of many seasons, until its entire surface was an intricate mass of cracks and fissures of arborescent form. The room was a little more than eight feet square and the ceiling a little less than eight feet high ; the furniture consisted of a bed, chair and washstancl. Upon the stand was a washbowl, pitcher and tallow candle, the latter supported in a bronzed tin candlestick. All were of the same renaissance as the room, untraceable in origin and indescribable in design, save that they were antique; a combination, however, then much employed, and evidently for a long time previous, in country taverns throughout this section.

There was no closet for clothes, but numerous and various sized nails driven in the walls furnished ample facilities for the disposal of garments, which, when tastefully arranged, gave to the room a sort of unique decorative effect.

Retiring for the night slumber was soon engrossed with such visions and fancies as would naturally possess a verdant, callow, country youth upon his first night in the hotel of a great town of a thousand or more people.

It was early yet when, arising and descending to the office, the only sounds which broke the silence that still hung about the establishment were occasional rattlings of stove lids and cooking utensils from the direction of the kitchen, while from the stable beyond came exclamations of command, mingled with the spiteful stamp of horses' feet in protest of too severe grooming. Soon afterward there was detected the sound of unlocking and opening the barroom directly beneath ; while from the window could be seen three old residents of the town, who had been patiently waiting, file silently down the steps. These were followed by three others coming singly, when for a period of half an hour there was heard a desultory conversation, interspersed with two' or three brief periods of silence, each of which were quickly followed by a chorus of slight coughing and clearing of the throat, when the line of discussion would be suddenly resumed, and each time with renewed interest and vigor. Finally there was a general adjournment and the six old residents filed up the basement stairs and homeward to their breakfast, while John Howe, the proprietor, who had completed the task of catering to his thirsty townsmen, locked the sliding door of the sideboard behind the bar and resumed his round of early morning duties yet remaining.

Salem was, upon the whole, a more than ordinarily moral village, yet withal liberal. Hence in a spirit of fairness toward all, the village government maintained a state of prohibition each alternate year. This was not a prohibition year, and the old residents who so regularly filed down the basement stairs during the early morning hours, it is perhaps needless to remark, were not prohibitionists, neither were they ever disgracefully or disorderly intemperate. True, they were men of limited means, especially during these alternate years of greater personal privilege ; for it was expensive traveling up and down those basement stairs, particularly to those who commenced the route at such an early hour. But they were liberty-loving and peaceful, and formed an array of talent, devoid of which the village would have largely lost its charm.

Deacon Mathews, the weather prophet, and, incidentally, village blacksmith for many years, performed service for the community in forecasting climatic changes with a degree of accuracy in which the government department of meteorology have ever since failed.

Steve Green, .the inventor, was the pride of the village, and had either created anew or improved a device for every possible use; beside working occasionally at other occupations, until at last he had exhausted the field and was now struggling fiercely with the time-honored yet elusive principle of 'perpetual motion.

None of Steve's devices had ever found their way into general use, it was true, but Steve was a philosopher and thoroughly understood the difficulty of first converting the public mind to the acceptance of any great truth, and later their insane demands for the same, and so was content, and grimly awaited the coming change in sentiment and rush of orders.

These together with Brommie Lansing, Hen Clark, Hugh Smart and others, were old and well-known residents, whose loss at any time would have largely destroyed the village charm and worked an incalculable loss to John Howe.

It was a severe undertaking for a youth of sixteen, fresh from the environment of the potato patch and cornfield, to enter a great machine shop, individualized not only in occupation, but somewhat in dress and manners, and run the gauntlet for the first time of a horde of facetious workmen and apprentices, and when the ordeal was practically ended and escape had been made in safety to a point half way up the stairs leading to the office, only a few faint cries of "Low Bridge !" reached the ear ; for somehow they had already discovered the writer's identity with the Champlain Canal.

The office was a peculiar affair, situated in the machine shop, and built against the westerly wall, facing the car shop. Underneath, and rising from the machine shop floor were first built the tool room and pattern shop, while above and resting upon these was the office, the high ceiling of the machine shop providing ample elevation, while the tall windows lighted all. It was a commodious apartment, severely plain in its furnishings. Against one wall stood a high desk, on the opposite side a table, near the entrance a washstand with bowl and pitcher, and about the room a few office chairs of the simplest pattern. Upon the walls were a few photographs of locomotives built at Taunton, Massachusetts, also a few others of lathes, drill presses, etc., manufactured at Uitchburg, in the same state. In each of the two corners of the room was built a closet, one for the storage of books and the hanging of coats, the other enclosed the shop's stock of files, neatly arranged in pigeonholes and stored here from the fact that being an expensive class of material and extensively used, their consumption might be guarded and a check kept thereon. The control of this was still another duty of the clerk and time-keeper, and one which proved most annoying when later having lost the guardianship of his predecessor in office, and upon the request of some serious-looking yet facetious workman, found himself searching for a three-cornered rat-tail file.

Sometime in the life of every boy comes an ailment as certain and far more distressing than croup, whooping cough or measles, and that is the agonizing affliction — homesickness.

And now as the day neared its close and the sun went down behind the western hills, over and beyond which rested the home and dwelt the friends and associates of childhood, the heart sank with it in grief and longing ; till at last disappearing below the artificial horizon, the tears came thick and fast, while the mellow light of its reflection seemed to smile at my despair.

Mr. Kegler, the master mechanic, came up into the office one afternoon, washed and wiped his hands, then taking a cigar from his vest pocket and seating himself in an arm chair, lighted it, and, as was his daily custom, began the dictation of some letters. Finishing, he tilted his chair back against the wall, elevated his feet, resting them upon a corner of the table, removed the cigar from his mouth and blew a dense cloud of smoke toward the ceiling, while with the other hand he shielded and gently caressed a decidedly bald spot upon the top of his head. Gazing intently for a few seconds he at last said: "Well, boy, how ye makin' it?" Then without awaiting a reply, continued, "Now, don't ye think it's about time you was goin' over home and seein' the folks ? If you don't, ye know, they'll begin to think mebbe yer gittin' wild. Then, agin, ye must be gettin' a little homesick by this time ; if ye ain't yer a mighty sight diff erent boy than I was the first time I went away from home to stay."

A thousand thoughts now crowded in upon the mind, all imaginative, but joyous. The correspondence was dashed off with reckless haste, copied up-side down and in all sorts of ways, then in absent-mindedness at first addressed it nearly all to Comstock's Landing over on the Champlain Canal. Amongst the business letters, however, was an order to Henry Ruggles, a foundryman of Poultney, Vermont, for a miscellaneous lot of iron castings. I had taken occasion to write still another letter to an old aunt up near Slyborough Corners, telling her what a great man I had already become, and filling the balance of the letter with prophecies of my future. This I enclosed in an envelope addressed to Mr. Ruggles, while the order for castings was promptly forwarded by same mail to the aforementioned aunt.

In due time a reply came from the appreciative old lady thanking me for my desire to patronize her, but wondering how on earth I got it into my head that she was running a foundry ; that she didn't have a thing in the world to sell the railroad company unless they could make use of some vegetables.

Mr. Ruggles simply returned the letter to her, charitably refraining from any remark whatsoever. _i_

Railway occupation seemed the most alluring and of the greatest magnitude and importance of all that occupied the field. There stood before the world that dazzling exhibition of princely attainment, Jay Gould. For it was upon this very Rutland and Washington Division, then an independent line, that he, a somewhat unsophisticated country youth made his debut before the great and growing world of greed and gain. From his first appearance along the line in the guise of a wool and potato buyer, he suddenly developed into a full usurpation and control, while his younger brother, Abram Gould, occupied the position of clerk and timekeeper of these same shops. From the old files of the office the writer had unearthed many autograph letters of this now famed man, then reigning over the Erie Railway, the Pacific Mail Steamship Company, and in fact the laws of his land. These letters were studied carefully, their style adopted in correspondence, and through some evidence and much imagination, that of their author in other things, having fully determined upon entering the great field of transportation, the result of which at a period not long to be deferred would (it seemed unquestionable) terminate in the acquirement of a large interest, and elevation to the presidency of one or more great trans-continental lines.

And now these limitless, boyish and already wild ambitions were to be heightened through sudden and incomprehensible distinction.

A disastrous fire demonstrated fully the weakness of the village fire department, and steps were taken to reinforce it. Amongst other appliances which were added was the old Trojan hook and ladder truck of Troy, N. Y., that city inaugurating a paid department. The railway company being a heavy taxpayer, and deeply interested in the strengthening of the department, it was decided to name the machine for the writer.

The town constructed a building especially for its use with truck room on the first, or ground floor, and hall above.

Deacon Mathews, Brommie Lansing and Steve Green each became honorary members. The deacon selected dates for parades and other out-door demonstrations, besides securing representation at all the church picnics.

Brommie took charge of all parliamentary proceedings, while Steve Green acted as consulting engineer and general mechanical adviser, and in a remarkably short time introduced so many new improvements and attachments to the machine that the membership had to be enlarged in order to haul it about.

None of the three in view of their years ranked particularly high in actual service, especially on high buildings, though in basement work they still showed excellent form.

When this establishment was completed and occupied, so dizzy a height of fame and honor had been reached it seemed that to climb higher would simply separate one from any existing realm of equality to be found in earthly association. There were, however, it was determined, an extremely limited number of human beings in the world who enjoyed a like distinction ; but for this I should have dwelt alone, shrouded in the dense and dignified solitude of unequaled greatness.