The Brick Moon, and Other StoriesHale, Edward Everett
Science
The Brick Moon, and Other Stories
Hale, Edward Everett
Short stories; United States -- Social life and customs -- 19th century -- Fiction
"We just looked at each other in the faces, and we
could not speak; no, I do not believe we spoke for three
quarters of a minute. Then August said, `Was not that
grand? Will they let us do it always, Bill?' But we
could not talk then. Flanagan came back with the
tobacco, and I had just the wit to ask him why he had
been gone so long. Poor fellow! he was frightened enough
when we pulled up at Clayville, and he thought it was
Drums. Drums, you see, was way up the bend, a dozen
miles above Clayville. Poor Flanagan thought we must
have passed there while he was skylarking in the baggage-
car, and that he had not minded it. We never stopped at
Drums unless we had passengers, or they. It was what
we call a flag-station. So I blew Flanagan up, and
told him he was gone too long.
"Well, sir, at Clayville we did stop,--always stopped
there for wood. August Todhunter, he was the palace
conductor; he went back to look to his passengers. Bill
stayed with me. But in a minute August came running
back, and called me off the engine. He led me forward,
where it was dark; but I could see, as we went, that
something was to pay. The minute we were alone he
says,--
"`John, we've lost the rear palace.'
"`Don't fool me, August,' says I.
"`No fooling, John,' says he. `The shackle parted.
The cord parted, and is flying loose behind now. If you
want to see, come and count the cars. The "General
Fremont" is here all right; but I tell you the "James
Buchanan" is at the bottom of the Chamoguin Creek.'
"I walked back to the other end of the platform, as
fast as I could go and not be minded. Todhunter was
there before me, tying up the loose end of the bell-cord.
There was a bit of the broken end of the shackle twisted
in with the bolt. I pulled the bolt and threw the iron
into the swamp far as I could fling her. Then I nodded
to Todhunter and walked forward just as that old goose at
Clayville had got his trousers on, so he could come out,
and ask me if we were not ahead of time. I tell you,
sir, I did not stop to talk with him. I just rang `All
aboard!' and started her again; and this time I run
slow enough to save the time before we came down to
Steuben. We were on time, all right, there."
Here poor Joslyn stopped a while in his story; and I
could see that he was so wrought up with excitement that
I had better not interrupt, either with questions or with
sympathy. He rallied in a minute or two, and said,--
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account