Why He Kept His Temper

1895

In the Midst of a Blockade This Truckman Refrained From Swearing.

"My Darling."

Those tender words were painted in large letters on the dashboard of a big truck in the street. The thoroughfare was jammed with vehicles, and drivers were filling the air with profanity. But the driver of this particular truck sat silent and motionless. No word of his offended the ears of the patient, plodding beast over which he held the reins. During the din of curses a curious man stepped forward and inquired:

"You seem to take things very easy in this blockade."

"Yes, mister. I'm used to 'em," was the laconic reply. "Besides," he added, "it don't do any good or help a bit to swear,"

"I noticed that you have a name for your truck."

"Yes," and the stoical man's face brightened and assumed an expression born of a tender heart. "'My darling' was my dear little daughter. She's dead now. Just before she died — but you don't care to hear any part of this" —

"Indeed I do," interrupted the listener.

"Well, you see, it was this way: Nellie, my darling, took sick, and we couldn't save her, but just before she died she put her thin little arms around my neck and whispered in my ear: 'Papa, your Nellie is going to die. Please promise me that you will be kind to good old Dexter and don't swear at him. Will you do that for me?' Well, sir, I used to be pretty tough and rough, and I could curse with the best of 'em, but," and the man's voice trembled, "I loved my Nellie, and — and I promised her that I would do what she asked.

"Yes, sir, I've kept my word. That's going on three years now, but I haven't cussed once since. That's why I've named my truck 'My Darling.' It always reminds me of my Nellie and her sweet blue eyes."

Just then the blockade was raised, and "My Darling" rumbled on. — Philadelphia Times.