Evening Republican, Volume 15, Number 21, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 25 January 1911 — IN STRICT CONFIDENCE [ARTICLE]

IN STRICT CONFIDENCE

TELLS SWITCHMAN ' ABOUT SOME TRESPASSERS. pjl&’k'.' “* 1 n Ther* la People to Poor These Day* That They Olighter Qo Off and Die” —How He Obeyed Hl* Orders. The yard watchman, having •lammed the door of the switch shanty behind him, damped the switchman’* jbtg gray cat off a chair, poked up the lire In the red-hot monkey stove, and sat down With a sigh. J The switchman ddi not move. Behind the stove, his heels on the round of another chair, he was propped back against the thin wall, a curl of raw wmoks curling from hta ancient pipe. •It’s th’ dlwie to be poor,” obaarved the watchman, feeling for hla town pipe. In the alienee that followed his unanswered remark he twisted a piece of loose paper and touched it to the stove, thereby obtaining a light “Ain’t yon matin’ good pay?" asked the switchman. "WhatTa you kickin’ about?*’ The watchman growled. “I ain’t thtnktn* o’ myself,’’ he said; ’hot that ! got as much as Jay Gould. l*m thinkin o’ what happened just now in th’ yards.” The switchman’s eyes followed him as he reached for his knife and pried clogging tobacco from the draft hole in his pipe’s bowl, bat he said nothing, deeming it unnecessary. "Befo* Gawd, Jimmie,” said the watchman, "there is people ao poor these days that they oughter go off an’ die. There ain’t nothin’ for ’em. “Down in th’ sooth yard jest now I hears a noise, an’ goes snoopin’ down to see If it ain’t somebody breakln’ seals. Down there between two lines o’ empties I see a man with a lot o* ldds. They ain’t got no business in th’ yard, so I crawls along th’ top o’ th’ string an’ watches ’em. They was sittin’ where th’ switch light showed what they was np to, an’ they was satin’. Batin’ what? W’y, raw cabbage they’d got outer a car o’ frosted •tuff. "‘Never min’, Mds,’ says th’ man; Veil pretend this here cabbage is bread.’ “ ‘Can’t we make a leetle, teeny fire?* asks one o’ the kids. ‘lt hurts your teeth, it’s that cold.’ The man shakes his head. •“Not now, baby,’ he says; ’theyll put us out o’ here if we do. I know where there’s some nice, warm straw, an* soon’s we eat we’re going to bed.’ “Then I slides off th’ car an’ tells ’em to git out,” said the watchman. “I bates t* do it, but orders is orders.” "Y-a-a-as you did!” snorted the switchman. “I know you. I guess you throwed ’em out into th’ alley, an’ told ’em you’d have ’em hung If they oome back.” The watchman grinned sheepishly. "Well,* he said, "it wasn't as bad as that” The switchman grunted. "What’d you do?" he asked. The watchman poked the fire. Then he filled his pipe again and spoke. ’1 put ’em in a empty full o* corn husks,” he said reluctantly. “If you tell. I’ll till re. d—n ve.” "That all?" persisted the switchman. The watchman glared at him and went to the door. “Well,” he said, defensively, “you’d a’ done It, too. I give th* guy a dollar t* buy some'p*n for them kids t’ eat" Then he slammed the door and went ont.