LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XXIII, Issue 2243, 10 June 1881, Page 4

LITERATURE.

PUT ON THE BRAKE. By Agnes Buttsi;worth, A few years ago I was loitering about a railway station in tho South of England, In the expectation of meeting with an old friend, wh;u I first saw James Doyle. An express train had just come in, and as it rumbled Into the station, one of the porters remarked that “Cold Water Jim” was punctual to a second. Tho remark, I jud ed, was intended to apply to some one of no small importance, and I requested the porter to tell mo to whom he referred. 1 I moan tho driver, James Doyle,” replied the porter ; ‘he’s tho only man that works on cold water on this line.'

• Bat why do you ca 1 him “ Cold Water Jim,” ’ I asked

‘ Oh ! that’s a name he’s got because he’s tamed teetotaller. Jim’s had a deal of chaff from the men, but he has stood it well ; he’s not tho man to turn away from what he thinks is right. He won’t drink, and what is more, he won’t work on a Sunday.’ ‘That is no crime,” I remarked. On the contrary, ha ought to bo commended for it. ‘The Directors didn’t think so,’returned tho porter. 1 For he was told that if he did not work on Sundays he should not work on week days. But beheld out, and at last they gave In to him. Jim’s too good a man to part with. Ne fear about him neglecting his work. Yon must excuse me now, sir, as I am wanted over there-

I walked up the lino and took a long look at the driver. He was a stout, well built man with an intelligent face, bearded, and bronzed by exposure to tho weather. There was something so interesting in the very attitude of the man, so calm, so fearless, so self-reliant that I went up to him, end asked if I could have a few minutes conversation with him.

‘ I shall bo off duty in half an hour,” he replied, and if you will meet me by yonder gate, close to the signal box. 1 shall be only too happy to oblige you air.’ I agreed to be there, and then strolled away to the ontsiie of the station. In a few minutes I saw ‘ Cold Water Jim’ working his engine slowly towards the engine shed, blowing off steam with a deafening noise, while the fireman was busy raking ont the fire. By this I knew the day’s work was done, and that 1 should probably have a favorable opportunity for talking with the temperance driver, in whom I was very muon interested. Before the time he named had expired, he appeared, and politely lifting his cap, asked how he could be of service to me.

‘I heard you called ‘Cold Water Jim,’ I replied, and by that I guessed you to bo a member of the Temperance League. ’ ‘ Yes, sir, that 1 am, I am thankful to say,’ he answered. It is so rare to meet with one of your class, who is an abstainer that I am anxious to know how you became so.’ * I will tell you all about it,’ said Doyle, * if yon will only wait a little longer. I like cold water In many ways, and a wash after my run is very refreshing. Then I get my tea, and as the two together will take about half an hour, perhaps you will walk up to my house about that time, ’ ‘ Where do you live ? ’ I a»ked. * That’s my cottage on the hill yonder, sir,’ he replied. The time passed quickly; for in this wide world of ours there is always ample food for thought, if only a man will think. As the cloak struck seven I walked up the lane leading to Doyle’s house. Ho met me at the ga-den gate. His wife was standing by his side, holding s rosy babe In her arms. Alter an introduction to her, Doyle asked if 1 would prefer the outside or the inside of the house. As it was a fine night 1 preferred the former, so Doyle went in and brought out two chairs. Through the open door 1 could see that the room beyond was well furnished, and a model of neatness—a very pleasing remit of temperance. ‘Now, sir,’ said Doyle, when we ware seated, l if you will give me your attention, I will proceed with my story,’ He paused for a moment, and touched the palm of his hand with his legs. This gave him a start, and, in a distinct tone with the ring of truth in every word ho uttered, he related the following story :

* I began life as a cleaner, at the shop of Lewis and Company, engine fitters, and after three years of it I got on this line as a fire--jgjjj - J not nulta twenty, but I was toll and well-built, so that I could paS. B anywhere for three-and-twenty. My mate W 44 108 l Lyon, a good man In many respects, but he had one fault, and that was drick, The company will not have a man who drinks heavily if they know it j but they never . knew that Tom drank oat of bounds; and why F Bee .use he could take almost any quantity and not show it In his walk. It is a strange thing, sir, that people will never believe a man is the worse for drink unless he rolls about like a ship in a storm ; and yet I’ve seen Tom, when be could not tell one end of the engine from the other, walk home as straight as a line; go to bed, and then sleep for hours. Tom was a great wonder to those that knew him as 1 did. and it used to be said that he would break up soma of these days—although no one thought be would break up In the way he did. Ha was very good natured, and 1 was just the age to take to a fellow with an even temper. I liked Tom much, and Tom liked me. Up to the time of meeting Tom, 1 had not drank much. I took my beer at dinner, and the same at supper, but nothing more. Now, however, there came a change. When off duty, Tom and 1 were very often at the public-house together, spending what money we had, and being good sponges to a lot of loafers, who swear by you while the beer is afloat, and turn their backs upon yon as soon as you’ve gone to your ruin. Tom had a wife and a home—such a home as I should be sorry to put a dog into. There were many like it, and are many still ; but that did not make Tom’s any better. It was a wretched home to look upon ; a brawling wife dirty children, scarcely a stick of furniture in the place, and never scrubbed by month in and mouth out, I saw all this, and yet I could not take warning, and went fast on the same downhill coarse with Tom, just keeping clear of exposure, and getting through my work in a slovenly manner, which is common to men who muddle their heads with drink. I have got many faults, sir, and some of them Is that I am as obstinate as a mule, and will not listen to reason like most men. My wife knew this, and in trying to reclaim me she did not try too much at once. One day she says in her coaxing way, ‘ Jim, will yon be off duty to-night.’ ‘Yes, 1 shall, lass,’ I says, ‘and I will come straight home,’ for yon see I had not got deep enough into drink to neglect everything. My wife kissed me, and said she would be on the look out for me, and I came home as I had promised. After tea, she says in the same casual way, as if the thing bad just come to her mind, “ Jim, there’s to be a meeting to-night; will yon go?’ I answered that I would, without thinking what kind of a meeting it was to be, so 1 cleans np a bit, and off we started. When we got to the hall I saw some bills announcing a temperance lecture by the Rev. J B . 'I am not going to listen to that soft staff, Foil,’ I says. ’But I want to listen to it,’ says Poll, ‘so come in with me. If yon wish to stop your ears up you can do so.’ Well I went in just to please her, and we got a good seat near the platform. Then one of the gentlemen on the platform came forward to apeak. Perhaps he would not be considered a great ‘orator,’ continued Doyle; bnt he spoke easily, and as soon as his lips wore opened his words began to tell upon me. _ Yon need not ask me what he spoke of, sir; it was drink, and for an hour or more he continued to point out the evils resulting from it; how it worked ruin and destruction to homes that were once bright and happy ; how it filled our gaols, and crowded the streets with paupers, I could not iclp listening, and what is more believing all 1 had heard. I thought a score of times of Tom’s homo and of others like it. When the lecture was over all those who wore willing were Invited to sign tho pledge,’ Then Polly turned to mo, and whispered in my oar, ‘Go up, Jim, and aigh.’ What lor 1’ says I. * I am not a tegular drunkard.’ * You are going down an incline. Pat on the brake, Jim,’ she says. Now, sir, there’s nothing like a familiar expression if yon want to touch a man, and Poll, being rather a clever woman, knew how to hit tho nail on tho head. She might have gone on saying 1 Go up and sign.’ for a month, and I should not have heeded her; but when she asid, ‘You’re going down an incline, put

on the brake,’ her words struck me, and I saw my position as I had never seen it before. Going down an incline ! Of course I war, and going down a deal too fast. And whao ought a man to do then ? Why, put on the brake. There were some 200 people waiting to sign the pledge. Polly had followed me, and kept by my aide. Once I felt a wavering, and she saw it instantly in my face. ‘Keep on the brake, Jim,’ she said, ‘and you will be out of danger.’ * It’s your turn now,’ she said, and before I knew what I was doing, I had signed, Yes, there it was, “ James Doyle,” with a flourish at the end. A promise to abstain from all intoxicating liquors ; a promise, I am pleased and proud ts say, bas never been broken. I felt very queer when It was done, but I had given my word, and I would not go back. Poll’s face was so bright and pleasant I felt fit to combat with everything that my mates might say to me. * Yon will find that this night’s work will bring for h good frnit, Jim,* she said. l lt seems really as if a b’essing had been bestowtd upcnjas.’ We went home and spent the rest of the evening talking over what we would do with the money which we should now be able to save. Our home wanted many things, and when I thought of the money I had foolishly wasted In beer I confess I felt ashamed of myeelf. The next morning I was at the works by six o’clock cleaning my engine, and getting ready for Tom, who did not come till about seven. Wo drove one of the early morning expresses —a tram for gentleman to get to London by, and attend to their business. When Tom oame I saw he had been drinking. He always bad his morning’s drain, but this time he appeared to me worse than usual. Those who did not know him would not have snspected it; bat I knew my man, and my heart; ached fcr him as he climbed upon the engine. He had a bottle in his breast pocket, which he took out and pnt to his lips and then passed It to me. ‘Have a drop, Jim,’ he says. ‘l’ll take the bottle if yon like,’ says I, ‘ and put it into my pocket.’ * Don’t take the lot,’ he says, * I won’t touch a drop of It.’ I replied, * never again, Tom, I’ve taken the pledge. ’ Tom stared at mo for a moment, and then he leaned back and'gave a wild langh. ‘ You’re a fool, Jim,’ he says; ‘ Well, if yon won’t drink, give me back my bottle.’ 1 Tom,’ I says, ‘ not now ; it’s time we were out.’ Tom always did bis work pretty well, and seeing by the clock that it was time, he ran the engine out and went down to the station where we coupled on. In five minntes we started, and as we passed under the bridge I dropped the bottle by the side of the line. As I have told yon before, it was a fast train. We went right through without stopping as a rule, but sometimes a train late at W I junction got in our way, and then we were obliged to poll up for a few seconds. This did not often happen ; but of course we kept a good look out. When we were about four miles out, Tom turns to me and said, 1 Jim, where’s my bottle ? ’ * I dropped in on the line,’ I replied, ‘you will be better without it.’ *,There’a a good shilling’s worth of rum in it,’ he says.’ I told him that I would pay the shilling, but he did not reply, and when ho turned to his work again, there was a sullen look upon his face that I had never seen before, 1 have since learned that nothing rouses a drunkard more than taking away his drink. He maybe ever so good natnred, and submit to almost anything else, bat take away bis drink, and you make a tiger of him. I saw Tom put his hand on the handle and turn on the steam, ‘ Tom,’ says I, ‘ your pace here is thirty, and you are going a good fifty or more.’ • Mind your own business,' he replied, looking at me more like a vicious beast than a man. ‘ I’m master here.’ I saw it was no use talking to him, so I attended to my fire, and put on fresh fuel. Then 1 looked np, and saw W

Junction ahead, with the signals up against ns. * Tom, ’ I cried, turning cold with terror, ‘ turn off steam ! don’t yon see the signals V 'l’m master here, I tell you,’he said, and folding bis arms stared at me more sullen than ever. It was not the time to argue with him, so I turned off steam myself, signalled for the guard’s brake, and putting one hand on Tom’s collar, I turned down the brake with the other.” 'Hands off,’ cries Tom as he tried to put the steam on again ; bnt I had jerked him over to the other side, and tried to keep him off. While doing this we were still flying on with the brake, screeohing at nearly forty miles an hour. If anything was ahead I felt it was certain death. I looked out and saw a train crawling out of the W Junction, and on the platform ware a lot of people running tq a fro, throwing up their; Mma jj ke * 6et - of maniacs, 1 all this, and can see it now, lOr it fldgtoa to be photographed in toy mind; but It WaS only for a moment, and then we dashed in with a sound as if the world itself was being rent to pieces I was thrown on my side, and pitched upon an embankment behind the platform of the station. My leg was broken, and I could not move, but I could see and hear. What a scene it was I Carriages smashed and scattered in every direction. Men shouting, and women screaming ; but above all this I could hear poor Tom, who lay under the overturned engine, shrieking horribly with the hot steam pouring upon him, and scalding him to death. Never shall I forget it. Never cau I forget it ; and often in my dreams I see the whole scene again. The white faces of the passengers as they were lifted oat of the rains one by one ; some killed, others wounded; and all shocked and terrified by the fearful calamity. 1 will not stay long on the subject. Railway accidents are common enough, bnt I must tell you that nine were killed, and twenty injured more or less. Poor Tom was among the killed; he was dead long before the engine conld be moved, and a dreadful death it was. He was literally boiled alive, and I what his agonies were, none can tell. I was laid up with my leg for two months, I had to make a statement about the accident; that Is, I answered the questions pat to me, and as there was nothing said about drink, I did not mention it. Perhaps 1 was wrong ; for the sake of others I onght to have said something, bnt poor Tom was dead, and I did not like to bring np the faults of a man who was in his grave. The jury brought in a verdict which meant nothing particular. The company paid all damages and claims, and in time the matter was forgotten by the pabllc. Bnt it is not forgotten by me. Many and many a time I have been tempted to drink again, just to have one glass with an old friend, or a mate, bnt I always think of poor Tom’s death, and turn from it, as though it were poison. I do not tell this story to many, for they will not believe it. All drivers of express trains, or any other trains, have to pass an inspection before they go upon their engines, but as I have said before, Tom did not show his drink. There are hundreds like him in every class, and you may see or hear of them every day. Besides, an Inspector is only a man, and after a time it is natural for him to pass the drivers in any sort of way. He does not seem to neglect his duty, but things escape his notice, a guard, a signalman, or a driver passes a little the worse for drink fifty times, and nothing comes of it, but the I fifty-first there comes a crash, and death and { misery aro spread abroad, Per myself I’ve got the name of being a steady workman, I got it as a fireman, and it made me a driver. Punctuality does not in one sense depend upon the driver, but if I can keep my time I do I know to a second when I onght to pass every point on my journey ; there’s not a bridge, a tree, or a house on the whole route without a time of my own for being there, and any driver who keeps clear of drink can do the same. I do not mean to sny that our drivers and firemen are drunkards; on the contrary, they rank among the sober class of mechanics. Bnt still some of them do drink to a great extent, and there’s many a half-muddled man at the bead of a train entrusted with the lives of some hundreds of passengers. It is a serious matter to think of, for a careless glance or a loose hand may send two trains dashing into each other, cutting off In a moment the lives of many persons, hurrying them into eternity without a moment’s reflection npon the past, All accidents are not from the result of drink, but many are as I know full well, and my earnest wish is that every driver and fireman in this country would sign the pledge, * Amen, I say to that, Doyle,’ I replied, as I rose from my seat to depart for home. ‘I can assure you I quite agree with all you say,’

* Well, air,’ replied Doyle, as I said before, * I do not often tell this tale ; people do not give you any credit for it, but if they would only reflect and think for themselves, they would be certain to arrive at the conclusion that drink is not necessary for a working man.’

With this last speech of ‘ Cold Water Jim 1 the story was concluded.

I arose, and shaking him heartily by the hand, thanked him for his narration, and after bidding him ‘Good bye,’ I retraced my steps towards home, deeply impressed with what I had heard.