THE OLD WOMAN'S RAILWAY SIGNAL.
The most effective working force in the world in which we live is the law of kindness. Some time ago we read of an incident that will serve as an illustration. It was substantially this:— A poor old woman lived on the line of the Baltimore and Ohio Railway where it passes through a wild, unpeopled district of Western Virginia. She was a widow, with only one daughter living with her, in a log hut near a deep, precipitous gorge, crossed by the railway bridge. Here she contrived to support themselves by raising and selling poultry and eggs, adding berries in their season, and other little articles. She had to make a long, weary walk of many miles to the town where she could sell her produce. The railway passed her cabin to this town; but the ride would cost too much of the profits of her small sales, so she trudged generally to the market on foot. A conductor came finally to notice her walking by the side of the line or between the rails, and, being a good-natured, benevolent man, would often give her a ride to and fro without charge. The engineer and fireman were also good to the old woman, and felt they were not wronging the interests of the railway company. And soon an accident occurred that proved they were quite right. In the month of March the rain descended, and the mountains sent down their rolling, roaring torrents of melted snow and ice into this gorge near the old woman's hut. The flood arose with the darkness of the night, until she heard the crash of the railway bridge as it swept from its abutments and dashed its broken timbers against the craggy sides of the precipice. The rain fell in a flood, and the darkness was deep, and the storm howling. In another half hour the10express train would be due. What could she do to warn it against the awful destruction it was approaching? No light she could make of tallow or oil would live a moment in that tempest of wind and rain. Not a moment was to be lost; but her thought was equal to the need. She cut the cord of her only bedstead, and shouldered the dry posts, side-pieces, and head-pieces. Her daughter followed her with their two wooden chairs. Up the steep embankment they climbed, and piled all the household furniture upon the line a few rods before the black, awful chasm, gurgling with the roaring flood. The distant rumbling of the train came upon them just as they had fired the well-dried combustibles. The pile blazed up into the night, throwing its red, booming light a long way up the track. In fifteen minutes it would begin to wane, and she could not revive it with green, wet wood. The thunder of the train grew louder. It was within five miles of the fire. Would they see it in time? She tore her red flannel gown from her in a moment, and, tying it to the end of a stick, ran up the track, waving it in both hands, while her daughter swung round her head a blazing chair post a little before. The lives of a hundred unconscious passengers hung on the issue of the next minute. The great red eye of the engine burst upon her as it came round a curve. The train was at full speed; but the whistle sounded, and the brakemen wrestled at their leverage with all the strength of desperation. The wheels ground along the rails slower and slower, until the engine stopped at the decaying fire. It still blazed enough to show them the edge of the black abyss into which the train would have plunged had it not been for the old woman's signals. They did not stop to thank her first for the deliverance. The conductor knelt down by the side of the engine; the engine driver and brakemen and passengers came and thanked God for the salvation of their lives, and earnest prayers went up into the dark heavens in thanksgiving to him who seeth in darkness. The good woman was richly remembered by the railroad company, which henceforth liberally provided for her comfort. Kindness always pays.—Selected.