The sound of the switch engines as they puffed to
and fro, and the bang and rattle of the cars as they
were rammed together, was music to me, and served
to strengthen my resolution to become a railroad
man. That I might not find employment never
occurred to me ; for being so perfectly and beautifully
green, I didn't know there was in existence an art
called "hunting a job." So it was with a rather
benign and philanthropic feeling that I slowly wan-
dered down there, and stood for some time watching
the flying cars, and wondering what was accomplished
by the work I saw in progress, for to me it seemed
to be entirely aimless. An engine would back into
a track, couple on, and then after dragging the cars
out, would kick them all over the yard, only to go to
another track and do the same thing 6ver again,
while other engines would take the cars she had
kicked and distribute them elsewhere.
After watching them for nearly an hour, and fail-
ing to discover what their object was, I walked along
towards the other end of the yard, where I came
across an old man with a wooden leg, who was trim-
ming switch lamps. I watched him awhile, and as
he appeared to have plenty of time, I stepped up to
him, and raising my hat politely, said, —

" Good morning, sir."

He looked at me in a surprised manner, and then
after looking everywhere else, came to the conclusion.
