Democratic Sentinel, Volume 8, Number 3, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 February 1884 — ICHABOD TURNER’S MISSION. [ARTICLE]

ICHABOD TURNER’S MISSION.

“Crooked! crooked! crooked!” rang out the sharp, peculiar, dissonant voice, and the tall thin figure in seedy garments and flapping hat swayed to and fro on the stump that had been selected for a rostrum. “All things have gone crooked in this world, and I’ve come, to set ’em straight—to undo the snarls, give the power where it belongs, and put men. in their places. Oh—h—h, my friends! The world is topsy-turvy; the top’s at the bottom and the. bottom’s at the top, and I’ve come to turn things right end up. ” The 6 o’clock whistle had sounded the close of another day’s work at the shops, and the men, pouring out from the various smoke-stained archways, paused to listen. It was a motley group —some bedaubed with many colors from the paint-rooms, some with grimy hands and faces from foundry or machine shop, while further back on the long platform that extended along the track were gathered that inevitable adjunct of any crowd, the boys, and a sprinkling of women—some of the latter with children in their arms. The speaker’s excitement seemed to deepen as his audience increased. The keen eyes under the old hat darted lightninglike glanqeshere and there; he gesticulated wildly and his voice rose to a still higher pitch. “Oh—h—h, yes! Look at me! I’m Ichabod Turner, and the mission I’m sent on is to mend all crookedness and turn things right end up!” The men seeined to find a grim pleasure in the harangue. They laughed as they exchanged comments. “Chosen a good point to begin at, eh, Jack?” questioned one. “I should say so! He’ll have a tough contract, even if he doesn’t extend his territory.”

“Goin* to'pet all tilings straight? It’ll take a mightier man than you to do that job. I wish to massy he’d begin it soon!” murmured an old woman on the platform, as she picked up her bundle and trudged on again. The two men looked after her, and the elder shook, his grizzled head. “Poor soul! No doubt things seem crooked enough to her—her boy was crushed between the cars last year. Does seem as if somebody might indent a way to get along with killing fewer brakemen." Jim Barclay, sauntering down the long walk, stopped beside a bright young girl who had paused for a moment on the outer edge of the crowd. “If that fellow would begin his work by altering the days and nights a little, or by means of enjoying them, I’d be obliged to him,” he laughed. < The girl turned with a little start of surprise and pleasure. “Why, Jim,” then a glance at his lunch-basket brought the swift question, “you’re pot going out to-night? “It’s not your run. ” “I must make it, though, they say. It’s an extra train, and they are short of men, somehow—off or disabled. I feel considerable disabled myself.” “You were out last night?” “And the night before, and nearly all yesterday. I didn’t get in to-day until afternoon, and I was scarcely settled into a comfortable sleep before I was called. I’m not fit to go, that’s a fact. Don’t worry, Dell.” , - He broke off his sentences abruptly, as he saw the shadow of anxiety on his companion’s fair face. “It doesn’t happen so often. They’re short, you see.” ; “It oughtn’t to happen at all,” insist,cd Dell, indignantly. “I wouldn’t go.” i “Then my head would come off’ at short notice,” laughed Jim. “We can’t afford that.” Pretty Dell flushed rosily. She knew so well what that meant. There was a little house talked over and arranged to every detail of its simple furnishing, for which the two were planning when Jim should obtain his hopedfor promotion. “No, I won’t insure any necks tonight, but I’ll take the risk of crushing a few other people’s heads rather than the certainty of losing my own,” laughed Jim. “It's a pity that fellow, who is so sure of Ins mission, couldn’t turn my brains right side up; they feel crooked enough. But don't worry, Dell, ’’ he repeated, hurriedly. The crowd began to thin. Hungry mfcn, swinging their empty dinner pails, presently found the prospect of supper more alluring than the stranger’s promised millennium. Jim looked at his watch and found he Had not even five minutes to spare for a part of the homeward walk with Dell. He parted from her with a reluctant good-by, and she walked away alone. She had gone but a few steps, however, when she turned and looked back. “You’ll be careful, Jim? Don’t let anything happen. ”

I “Why, Dent’ He laughed, half touched, half wondering. “I oughtn’t to have talked such nonsense. Don’t be uneasy." She smiled in answer, and the cloud slowly faded from her face as she walked on. A call for extra service was no cause for serious trouble—all these exigencies were so familiar to her. Bell and whistle, messenger and dispatch, with their always imperative and often unwelcome orders, were part of her daily life. Jim would be tired and worn out, of course. That had happened often, and would doubtless happen again, but her thoughts turned to pleasanter pictures of the future, to arranging once more that tiny house with its dainty rooms, which should be a very haven of rest to one who came home weary. She paused on the long iron bridge and looked down on the • network of tracks below, crossing and interlacing in a seemingly inextricable tangle. The gray twilight of the short autumn afternoon was already deepening toward night, and the headlights of the enginps passing and repassing as they changed from one track to another, shone out brilliantly. Men were running here and there, waving their signal lanterns and shouting hoarse orders that to one uninitiated only mingled confusedly with the heavy breathing of the locomotives and the clangor of bells. Farther back, looming in rugged outlines against the faint rose of the western sky, were the great shops, grim and silent. The brown eyes watching from the bridge presently discovered the figure they sought winding its way in and out among the trains. He did not look up, and the girl smiled at the thought of watching him, herself unobserved. Then her face grew grave and sweet, with a passing fancy that so, from their height above the din and turmoil, the unseen angels looked down upon our mortal life. “Only, I suppose, all the tangles and bewilderments grow clear to them, as I am sure they do not to me, ” she added, with a little sigh. “And their watching is of some use, while mine cannot help poor Jim.”

He had some need of help as the evening wore on, though he but dimly realized it. Getting everything in readiness for starting was harder work than usual. There was a dull pain in his eyes and a throbbing in his temples. “This trip’s rather rough on you, Jim?” remarked a fireman, half q"uestioningly, half commiseratingly. “Rather!” Jim laughed faintly. “I’m stiff and used up, but 11l get*over it when we’re fairly off, I expect.” When the station, with its dim and dancing lights, was left behind, however, and the long line stretched away straight before him, his occupation became but a mere routine, so treacherously familiar that it would scarcely hold his eyes or thoughts. Mechanically he attended to his engine, with his mind straying far away from it to Dell, and then running oddly into a confused memory of the speaker at the depot, until the swift movement of the polished rods before him seemed the motion of gesticulating arms and the sound in his ears resolved itself into a measured repetition of meaningless words, “Crooked and straight; right side up!” “Hello! Caught myself napping, I do believe! Jim Barclay, what are you about? See here, Bill”—to his fireman —“just keep an eye on me, will you?” The young engineer shook himself, looked about him and stood stiffly erect. He whistled a tune vigorously to assure himself that he was wide awake. What a drowsy, rocking motion the train had! Even the jar and rattle seemed to lull and stupefy, though he stood erect at his post. He was glad shis sort of work was nearly over, for he did not see how the desired promotion could be much longer delayed, and then such calls as this would be fewer. He was looking anxiously forward to the day when he could carry the longed-for tidings to Dell. Dear little girl, how her face would brighten! What a cozy, happy home she would make! and she said the curtains wouldn’t cost anything, and the hammock on the porch to rest in. Lights ? Queer where the lights came from, unless—why, yes, almost to a station, of course. Dell must have put a bright light in the window. Alas,! Bill had climbed back over the tender to look after a suspected hot-box on the after truck. Shriek after shriek of warning from a steam whistle aided the flashing signal lights, and at last forced their meaning upon the benumbed brain. With a low cry of horror the engine was reversed, but too late to avoid the crash that followed as the two freight trains were piled upon each other in common wreck.

“What possessed you to run in that fashion, man? Were you drunk or crazy ?” demanded more than one rough voice, as Jim .stood by the track. But he only gazed, with blanched face at the scene before him, and answered them nothing. “Fortunately—almost miraculously, it- seemed—no one was seriously injured,” as the morning papers said, in chronicling the occurrence. Under the same glaring headlines they also commended the promptness of the company in dismissing “the engineer whose criminal carelessness caused the disaster, and who, as nearly as can be learned, was comfortably sleeping at his post, and so neglectful of all signals!” These were the tidings that reached Dell, instead of the glad word for which she bad waited. “What they say is true, after a fashion,” said Jim, simply and sadly.. “I was to blame for it—and yet I wasn’t, for I was not fit to make the rum. and I told them so. ” | fThere was no one to chronicle his years of faithful service, or the “criminal carelessness,” if not cruelty, which had placed him in* such a position; but these things were well understood ampng the many workers in that railroad fcwn, and they acknowledged, to each other, with ready but helpless sympathy, that it was “rough oft poor Jim. ‘ <•;, . ; Rough- it surely grew as-the long,days, cane and went, and the hope of reinstatement grew dimmer. “AU those missing men, who couldn’t be found when I needed a single night’s rest,

seem to have turned up once more, and they can spare me indefinitely,” he explained to Dell, with a pretense of jocularity that scarcely covered the ‘ bitterness. The brave little .woman tried to comfort and encourage him, I though the dancing light had gone out i of her brown eyes, and new grave lines ! were deepening about the young lips. . The little house they had planned < seemed so like the shadowy ghost of a . dead hope that neither cared to talk of : it any more, and, indeed, Dell’s ingenu- • ity found full occupation now in com- | bating the various wild schemes which j Jim, in his desperation, was constantlv forming. He had been away to look for employment, but business was dull everywhere at this season; and, moreover, grown up in that railroad town, where all interest and industry centered in the shops and tracks, he had belonged to the line from boyhood; he could do but one thing, and there was little chance for a situation elsewhere while the shadow of the great corporation’s disapproval seemed to follow liim in all his efforts like a blighting frost. So the bright autumn leaves dropped from the trees, leaving only brown and barren branches; the soft haze faded from the hills, and the narrow iron track, stretching away over the frozen earth toward the cold gray sky, looked to Dell’s sorrowful eyes a fitting emblem of the dreary life road that lay before her.

“I’m going away to-morrow,” Jim was saying, as they passed slowly over the bridge and down toward the town. “I’ve shown idiocy enough in waiting here for-any chance of justice. I mean to go as far West as I can make my way, and I’ll come back when I’ve some good word to bring—-if that time ever comes." It was useless to combat his purpose; there was nothing better to offer. The girl’s wistful gaze strayed with a dreary persistency to the track again. What a hard, narrow road it was, stretching on to its cheerless goal—the far-away wintry horjzon! Down on the walk by the round-house a knot of 'loungers had gathered. Ichabod Turner’s wanderings had brought him thither again—the place seemed toehold some peculiar fascination for him —and he was discoursing on his favorite theme. Suddenly a movement and murmur of excitement ran through the crowd, and its numbers, were speedily augmented from various quarters of the building. Swiftly and unexpectedly the speaker had turned, and with a single bound placed himself in the cab of a locomotive that had for a moment been left untenanted. “It’s .steamed up! Off ! off ! Come out of that!” shouted several voices. But Ichabod laughed hoarsely and waved his long arms triumphantly above his head. “I’m the only man on this continent that can run an engine! I’m ordered to take this one and go and turn the world right side up! Hurrah!” Two or three persons rushed forward, but fie caught up an iron bar and wielded it so vigorously that they were obliged to «fall back. Then, like a flash, his hand seized the throttle-lever, and the dangerous steed he had chosen began to show signs of life. “Pull him off!” “Lock the wheels!” rang out in conflicting orders. But the madman laughed again, his wild eyes gleaming like fire, and shook his bar in threatening and defiance. “Touch me if you dare! I’m sent to set the crooked straight. Here comes the millennium! Clear the track for the millennium!” And he was off. Swiftly as an arrow some one darted through the crowd, ran along the track, and leaped on the engine, clinging, no one knew how, as it moved away. Dell found herself suddenly deserted, and could only move forward with the others, who were following with eyes of mingled admiration and horror the athletic figure clinging and swinging as the speed increased until it finally forced its way into the cab. “What a terror to be left loose on the road! Who can tell what he will run into before he can be stopped!” exclaimed one with a white face. “Jim Barclay’ll manage him!” “Jim’ll be killed!” answered dissenting voices. Jim’s unexpected appearance in the cab, meanwhile, had momentarily confused its occupant, who until then had not been aware of his presence. “Where did you come from?” he demanded in suprise. “Flew down,” panted Jim; “sent to help you. But what on earth do you mean by trying to start the millennium in broad daylight?” “Daylight?” repeated Ichabod, bewildered by an earnestness and assurance as fierce as his own. “Don’t you know we ipust wait until the stars begin to fall? Besides, we must go back and telegraph to all the world to clear the track for i».” He was Inproving his companion’* momentary confusion by gently edging into his place and crowding him back, while he urged the superior advantages of his own plan of proceeding. All the details of that brief, horrible ride Jins could never clearly recall; but with the engine once in bis own hands he held possession, and as soon as it was possible reversed it, endeavoring the while to distract the other’s attention by a stream of explanations concerning their joint mission. The suggestion of clearing the track seemed to suit Ichabod’s crazed brain, and seizing the cqrd near him he clung to it so persistently that the shrieking, deafening steam-whistle drowned out all further efforts at conversation, and never ceased its terrific din until they rolled back into the great yard. Officers, police, and train dispatchers had been hastily notified, only to find themselves helpless in the matter, and a line of anxious spectators watched the engine’s return. Then,' discovering for the first time that his project was foiled, or bent upon some new scheme —no one could tell which—lchabod suddenly dropped the cord, and, before his companion could surmise his intention, leaped to the track. A moment later he was drawn from under the cruel wheels and tenderly lifted. “$o endeth —the fitst lesson,” he murmured, and then all earthly tangles for him were over, and life’s rough places grew smooth and plain. Jim was greeted with congratula-

I tions praises, and questions on every i I side. “That was a brave deed of yours, sir j |— a dangerous undertaking, very skill- , i fully planned and executed,” declared an officer of the road, with a eongratu- i latory shake of the, hand: "It fat more than cancels that little misfortune of yours last fall. There is no telling where this thing might have ended but for you. Call around at the office in the morning, will you? We shall have something to say to you. ” “What dees that mean?” questioned .eager Dell, as Jim made his way to her (ride. “It means that everything is all right again,” answered Jim, with an odd smile playing about his lips. “Queer how soon a bit of success can change a great crime into merely ‘a little misfortune.’” The excitement was over, and the yard slowly settled back to its ordinary routine, but the young engineer and pretty Dell lingered for a last pitying, tender glance at the still form, reveriently covered now. “For, whatever he may have been to the rest of the world, dear Jim, for us he fulfilled his mission,” said the girl, softly.— Kate W. Hamilton, in Our Continent. .