The Engineer Was Fired

1895

And It Was Not For Running Off the Track, but For Trespass.

When the railwaymen gathered at their customary resort, they found that Receiver E. O. Hopkins of the Air Line had preempted the most comfortable seat and was busily engaged in conversation with General Manager McDoel of the Monon, who happened to be spending an hour or two in St. Louis.

"I've just been telling Hopkins, here," said Mr. McDoel, "about a little railway in North Carolina. It forms part of the new Southern system now, but it used to be known as the Western North Carolina division of the Richmond and Danville. It runs from Asheville to a jumping off place called Murphy, and beyond all doubt it is, or was, the very worst piece of road in the world. It had every fault that can be imagined — heavy grades, rotting ties, light iron, thin ballast and all the rest of it. Nobody ever boarded a train without taking out an accident policy, and all the insurance companies charged double premiums, the risk being what they called 'extra hazardous.' Of course trains were constantly running off the track and ditching themselves, but there never were many passengers, and the trainmen had acquired, by long practice, the knack of jumping at just the right time, so no great harm was done. A few cars would be wrecked, but probably they would have fallen to pieces in a week or two anyway.

"Well, one day the Asheville cannon ball — it ran fully ten miles an hour when the wind was in its favor — jumped the track and plunged into an adjoining cornfield. The crew, as usual, escaped without injury and sat quietly to await the wrecking train. I may say, by the way, that the wrecking train made regular trips on that road and did more business than all the others.

"After looking over the situation the conductor — name was Joe — sauntered up to the engineer — name was Bill.

" 'Bill,' said the conductor, 'you'll be fired for this day's work. That's what you'll be. It's a sure thing.'

" 'Fire, nothing,' was Bill's reply. 'What have I done? Don't we skip the track most every day? Old man McBee'd be paralyzed if we didn't run off once or twice. What'd I be fired for?'

" 'Bill,' said the conductor solemnly, 'you'll be fired, and I'm sorry for it. You've been trespassing. Running off the track don't count, of course, but you've gone and left the right of way and trespassed on a man's farm. He'll sue the company, and you'll be fired.'

"And he was fired," concluded Mr. McDoel. "The superintendent ruled that an engineer was not privileged, even on that road, to take his train off the right of way, and that trespassing in a cornfield was an offense punishable by dismissal." — St. Louis Republic.

Jumbled English

1919

A school patron talking with a prominent educator the other day said that with all of the effort made in North Carolina schools to give the child a fair knowledge of the English language, he did not believe there was one child in a hundred in the schools of the State who could recite a sentence of twenty words in a clear, distinct and articulate tone of voice. The pity is that there is so much truth in the statement, comments the Raleigh News Observer.

Go into a classroom and hear the children read. Is it not the exception when a child knows how to pronounce its syllables distinctly? Syllables and letters both are too often wholly ignored. Words are jumbled together too frequently in incoherent fashion. Worst of all and at the bottom of the trouble is the fact that some of the teachers are less proficient than they should be in distinctness of speech, while others who are more precise themselves, pay insufficient attention to the pronunciation of the children.

The old-fashioned elocution class in which the children were taught to utter their syllables distinctly might very well come back in place of some of the things that are more pretentious, but have less value in the school.