 | Poems and Songs |  |
119
The Pointsman Grim.
Come, stir up the fire! for the light is too dim
To sit in, and hear of the pointsman grim,
Whose deeds filled the papers of country and town,
And every one knows that his name was John Brown
To sit in, and hear of the pointsman grim,
Whose deeds filled the papers of country and town,
And every one knows that his name was John Brown
He had a sweet wife, had this grimmest of men,
And a child—but he wasn't a pointsman then,
But bent for his living each day o'er his awl—
And the dream of his life was a well-stocked stall.
And a child—but he wasn't a pointsman then,
But bent for his living each day o'er his awl—
And the dream of his life was a well-stocked stall.
One day, to his wife, giving bank-notes three,
“Dear Jane, you must go to the country,” said he,
“You're thin, and you're pale, with this life in the town,
So go to your mother's, get plump, and get brown.”
“Dear Jane, you must go to the country,” said he,
“You're thin, and you're pale, with this life in the town,
So go to your mother's, get plump, and get brown.”
Out spoke Mrs. Brown, and she spoke with much sense:
“Consider, my husband,” said she, “the expense.”
Said John, “You must go,” so she spoke not again,
But she packed up her things, and they went to the train.
“Consider, my husband,” said she, “the expense.”
Said John, “You must go,” so she spoke not again,
But she packed up her things, and they went to the train.
120
John went to the train, and he saw them away,
“Good-bye, my own Jane”—that was all he could say;
He did not kiss her, but he kissed their dear child,
And whispered, “You'll give it to mother,” and smiled.
“Good-bye, my own Jane”—that was all he could say;
He did not kiss her, but he kissed their dear child,
And whispered, “You'll give it to mother,” and smiled.
So the train moved away, and he went to his stall,
And whistled light-hearted all day o'er his awl;
But at night, when he purchased his Citizen, there
He saw, in huge letters, “A Dreadful Affair,”
And read, “A Collision,” good God! with the train
That had left in the morning and carried his Jane.
And whistled light-hearted all day o'er his awl;
But at night, when he purchased his Citizen, there
He saw, in huge letters, “A Dreadful Affair,”
And read, “A Collision,” good God! with the train
That had left in the morning and carried his Jane.
So he rushed to the station, the whole truth to know:
The story was just as the Citizen said—
A blunder to ruin the train had betrayed!
And the shoemaker staggered and said, “Just so!”
The story was just as the Citizen said—
A blunder to ruin the train had betrayed!
And the shoemaker staggered and said, “Just so!”
John went to the scene, and he bowed down his head,
And he spoke no reproaches, but buried his dead;
But he never more smiled—what was life now to him.
“And why should I live?” said the pointsman grim.
And he spoke no reproaches, but buried his dead;
But he never more smiled—what was life now to him.
“And why should I live?” said the pointsman grim.
121
The dead and the debris had been cleared away,
And the Press and the Pulpit had both said their say;
And the railway directors had met to agree
What damages paid to the public should be;
They didn't quite say so, but this was their thought—
“It stands not to reason that we should pay aught.”
And the Press and the Pulpit had both said their say;
And the railway directors had met to agree
What damages paid to the public should be;
They didn't quite say so, but this was their thought—
“It stands not to reason that we should pay aught.”
And so, when they read—“Wife and child of John Brown,”
“Oh, a shoemaker fellow, quite poor, in the town!
We'll give him, let's see,” said the chairman, and smiled
“A fifty for her, and a ten for the child.”
“Oh, a shoemaker fellow, quite poor, in the town!
We'll give him, let's see,” said the chairman, and smiled
“A fifty for her, and a ten for the child.”
John got their grand offer, and read it, and stood,
With a flash in his eye and a fire in his blood—
“My wife valued fifty! my child valued ten!
Just so! its all right!” said that grimmest of men.
With a flash in his eye and a fire in his blood—
“My wife valued fifty! my child valued ten!
Just so! its all right!” said that grimmest of men.
So off to the railway directors he went,
And took off his bonnet and low his head bent—
“I'm out of a job, my good masters,” said he,
“So make me a pointsman, and you shall go free.”
And took off his bonnet and low his head bent—
“I'm out of a job, my good masters,” said he,
“So make me a pointsman, and you shall go free.”
122
“A pointsman!” said they, “very well, 'tis but fair,”
And John had a compliment paid from the chair;
So they wrote the conditions—John wrote “I agree,”
And duly installed as a pointsman was he.
And John had a compliment paid from the chair;
So they wrote the conditions—John wrote “I agree,”
And duly installed as a pointsman was he.
Then they gave him a box—gave him flags red and white—
The red one for danger, the white for all right;
And they showed him a handle to shove to and fro;
“Be careful,” said they—said the pointsman, “Just so.”
The red one for danger, the white for all right;
And they showed him a handle to shove to and fro;
“Be careful,” said they—said the pointsman, “Just so.”
“But what would occur,” said the pointsman, “if I
Should the handle hold thus when the train's passing by?”
“If the train's going down when you hold it,” said they,
“It safe with its human freight goes on its way.”
“And where would it go if I held it there?”
“Into the wrong line—and God knows where!”
Should the handle hold thus when the train's passing by?”
“If the train's going down when you hold it,” said they,
“It safe with its human freight goes on its way.”
“And where would it go if I held it there?”
“Into the wrong line—and God knows where!”
So then with his duties they left him alone,
And the trains for a fortnight had come and had gone;
And now in the darkness, and now in the light,
He let them pass safe with their human freight.
And the trains for a fortnight had come and had gone;
And now in the darkness, and now in the light,
He let them pass safe with their human freight.
123
Yet, often he muttered, “O that I but knew
When that generous chairman was passing through;
For this is the gate of Destruction,” said he,
“And I am the devil that keeps the key.”
When that generous chairman was passing through;
For this is the gate of Destruction,” said he,
“And I am the devil that keeps the key.”
Till one day, to him, kindly, a surfaceman said,
“Have you heard there's a lot of new lyes to be made?
Well, the chairman and others, they say, will come down
To-morrow by special express from town.
“Have you heard there's a lot of new lyes to be made?
Well, the chairman and others, they say, will come down
To-morrow by special express from town.
“Have everything tidy, for sharp is the eye
Of the railway chief as the special goes by;”
And the pointsman he answered, “Of course, just so,
And the chairman shall go—where he ought to go.”
Of the railway chief as the special goes by;”
And the pointsman he answered, “Of course, just so,
And the chairman shall go—where he ought to go.”
So home went the pointsman and went to his bed,
And he saw his own wife in a dream, and she said—
“O John, if this dreadful thing you do,
The dream you've been dreaming may never prove true.
And he saw his own wife in a dream, and she said—
“O John, if this dreadful thing you do,
The dream you've been dreaming may never prove true.
The dream you've been dreaming will prove but a dream;
You ruinward float like a fly on a stream—
Like a rudderless bark o'er the ocean driven—
For murder was never a passport to heaven.”
You ruinward float like a fly on a stream—
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For murder was never a passport to heaven.”
But the pointsman grim was'nt frightened a bit—
He saw the sweet spirit away from him flit;
And, waking, he muttered, “She's gone, just so,
But the chairman shall go—where he ought to go.”
He saw the sweet spirit away from him flit;
And, waking, he muttered, “She's gone, just so,
But the chairman shall go—where he ought to go.”
Then out came the pointsman at break of day,
And when anyone spoke he had nothing to say;
But he oiled his points and his lamps put out,
And picked up the coal which was lying about.
And nobody fancied, and nobody knew,
What the desperate pointsman was going to do.
And when anyone spoke he had nothing to say;
But he oiled his points and his lamps put out,
And picked up the coal which was lying about.
And nobody fancied, and nobody knew,
What the desperate pointsman was going to do.
Till far away, in an hour or less,
He heard the scream of the first express;
So he threw down his red flag and pulled out his white—
Turned off the red signal and showed them “all right.”
And then, when he saw her come thundering along,
He rushed to the points, and he held them wrong.
He heard the scream of the first express;
So he threw down his red flag and pulled out his white—
Turned off the red signal and showed them “all right.”
And then, when he saw her come thundering along,
He rushed to the points, and he held them wrong.
125
Then into the siding she rushed amain,
Where waiting at peace stood a shunted train—
A crash, and a shriek, and a fearful cry,
While the engine seemed climbing her way to the sky.
Then the voice of the pointsman was heard—“Bravo!
The chairman has gone where he ought to go!”
And then, when the force of the engine was spent,
Away from his point-box he quietly went,
Where a great crowd had gathered, of old and young,
And he was the burden of every tongue.
Where waiting at peace stood a shunted train—
A crash, and a shriek, and a fearful cry,
While the engine seemed climbing her way to the sky.
Then the voice of the pointsman was heard—“Bravo!
The chairman has gone where he ought to go!”
And then, when the force of the engine was spent,
Away from his point-box he quietly went,
Where a great crowd had gathered, of old and young,
And he was the burden of every tongue.
But nothing cared he—he but stooped his head,
And peered in the face of the dying and dead;
But the face of the chairman he could not find,
For nothing was there of director kind.
And peered in the face of the dying and dead;
But the face of the chairman he could not find,
For nothing was there of director kind.
Then round on his heel turned the pointsman grim,
For the dead and the dying were nothing to him;
To his own house he went—by-and-by to his bed,
When in came the county policeman and said—
“You seem to be taking it cool, Mr. Brown—
Get into your clothes, sir, you're wanted in town.”
Said John—“I suppose they will give me my due—
But it wasn't the thing I intended to do.”
So John was examined, imprisoned, and tried—
They found he was guilty, and something beside—
They found that a mad-house the place was for him—
And there was an end of the pointsman grim.
For the dead and the dying were nothing to him;
To his own house he went—by-and-by to his bed,
When in came the county policeman and said—
“You seem to be taking it cool, Mr. Brown—
Get into your clothes, sir, you're wanted in town.”
Said John—“I suppose they will give me my due—
But it wasn't the thing I intended to do.”
126
They found he was guilty, and something beside—
They found that a mad-house the place was for him—
And there was an end of the pointsman grim.
MORAL.
Let people who sit in high places be sureThat life is no dearer to rich than to poor
The truth of this proverb will never be dim
To all who remember the pointsman grim
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