DOWN THE MOUNTAIN TO DEATH
At four o’clock on the morning o£ November Bth, 1875, an express train on the Lehigh Valley Bail way, in America, was on (he top of a mountsm eighteen miles above the city of Wilkesba.Te. Among the passengers were the President of the United States and several members of his Cabinet, in a special coach. From this point the grade was very steep and the road full of curves. It was the custom to keep the brakes set all the way down. If they failed disaster was sure to follow. Within a minute after the train started the driver noticed that something had gone wrong with the brakes. The train kept poshing the engine. He reversed, but without checking the speed. Seeing this, the guard and one or two other train men jumped, and escaped with only slight injuries. The train now ran faster and faster, and a horrible death seemed waiting for all on board. The driver blew the whistle continuously to warn trains at the foot of the mountain of his approach. When the runaway passed Nescopeok station it was going at the rate of nearly twenty mile ao hour, and the faithful driver stood at his post, bareheaded, holding on, and still blowing the whistle. At the foot of the mountain all the trains had got out of the way except the rear end of a coal train which was just shunting. Into this the passenger train dashed with a crash that was heard for miles around, knocking the cars in all directions. The passengers were badly shaken, and some bruised, but none were killed. But where was the brave driver P From under the wreck of the overturned engine be was taken an hour afterwards, crushed and dying, but still able to speak. “Is the President safe P” he gasped. “ Vos, and everybody else,” was the answer. “ Thank God for that,” he said, and never spoke again. A splendid deed, truly, yet there is not a driver in a hundred who would not have stood to his duty with the same fidelity. Exposed to nil sorts of weather, to constant danger, and laden with responsibility, the engine drivers have a commendable record, and deserve higher appreciation both by the companies and the public. “ I am an engine driver,” sbjb Edward Roberts, and have bean for eleven years My health was always good nmil July, 1885 Then something came over me that I couldn’t account for. I felt tired, sleepy, and languid. My stomach felt sour and cold, my mouth tasted awfully bad, and my tongue was thickly coated. A disagreeable fluid came up into my mouth, and my appetite failed. No food, however light, agreed with me, and I had great pain after eating anything at ali. In ten minutes my stomach would be all in a ferment, and swell like as a balloon does when the gas is running into it. 1 had also a miserable tightness around my chest and sides Later on I had awful pain iu the kidneys. I could not rest at night; I had dreadful dreams, and would turn and turn in bed, but found no ease.
“ As time went on I got weaker and weaker ant'd I could scarcely crawl to my work, but having a large family to support I struggled on as best I could, when many another would have been confined to bed. As it was, my suffering was so great that I went to bed as soon as I returned from my work, For over four years I went on in this fashion, about half alive and half dead, obtaining no relief from the medicines the doctors gave me I took eix bottles of pepsine, hat it did no good, neither did the seven bottles of a medicine was sent over and got from Dublin. “ In May, 1890, a lady who called at the house, told me of a medicine called Mother Weigel’s Syrrp, and recommended me to try it; so I got a bottle from Mr Wilson, at the Drug Hall, Holyhead, and began taking it. In a week I felt better, my stomach was easier, and my food digested, and I gradually gained strength. By the time I had taken six bottles I was strong as ever. I could eifc anything and have kept well ever einoe: I have told of my recovery everywhere, and many of my friends have used the Syrup with benefit. I wish my experience to be published, and will reply to inquiries about my case. (Signed) "Edwabd Eobbbts, “ No. £, Tyn Pwll Road, Holyhead.” What originally brought on this wretched attack of indigestion and dyspepsia—which through lack of the proper remedy became chronic —Mr Roberts does not say, even if ho knows. Probably tbe cause was exposure, and a hasty and irregular habit of eating. At all events be was fortunate in learning of Mother Seigel’s Syrup before it was too late. We congratulate him on this point, and are confident his frank statement will be of use to others of bis honourable and responsible calling. For one, the writer of these lines never lies comfortably back on the cushions in a firstclass carriage on tbe excellent NorthWestern Railway without hoping (selfishly enough, to be sure) that all is well in mind and body with the man who drives tbe iron bona
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Bibliographic details
South Canterbury Times, Issue 7267, 21 July 1893, Page 4
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898DOWN THE MOUNTAIN TO DEATH South Canterbury Times, Issue 7267, 21 July 1893, Page 4
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