That falsehood's dagger tyrants wield; To arms to arms! ye brave, &c. Rouget de L'Isle. DIE WACHT AM RHEIN.— (THE RHINE WATCH.) A ROAR like thunder strikes the ear, "On for the Rhine, the German Rhine!" A hundred thousand hearts beat high, The heart may break in agony, Yet Frenchman thou shalt never be. Dear Fatherland, thou needs not fear, When heavenward ascends the eye, As long as German blood still glows, We take the pledge. The stream runs by; THE DEPOT TICKET-CLERK. THE duty of the ticket-clerk is to answer questions and sell tickets. He answers more questions than he sells tickets, for almost everybody who buys a ticket has three or four questions to ask. Travelers seem to think the ticket is "mighty dear," unless two or three pieces of information are thrown into the bargain. There is, for some reason, a sort of natural animosity between the ticket purchaser and the ticket-clerk; and it is certain that he would never carry on his occupation if he were not in a strong enclosure. Perhaps his being so barred in, that he could not be got at, even if anybody wanted to get him in the worst way, has a tendency to arouse the feeling I mentioned; at all events, it exists, and if he were not fenced in, he would need to be a courageous fellow. The apartment which he occupies has generally only a small hole for communication between himself and the public outside. This hole is big enough to admit a man's head. His head is all the ticket-clerk has to do with; he does not require to see the remainder of his proportions. He will sell a ticket to a man with one leg as readily as to a man with two. He will make no reduction, on account of a man not being "all there." A man who had been pared off a good deal by occasionally getting too near buzz-saws, thought he was entitled to travel at half fare, as only half of him was left over; but the ticket-clerk would make no allowance so long as his head was in the place. Passengers are not carried by weight. If they were, I don't see how the business could be done, weights vary so much from time to time. “Look here, young man," says a rough-looking kind of a fellow through the hole, "how do prices run in these times to D ?" "Fifty-two cents," replied the ticket-clerk, with the greatest urbanity. "That's pretty dear: I'll give you fifty cents." "Can't take less than fifty-two." "You can't take less 'n fifty-two? You don't mean to say you want the odd two cents?" "Yes, sir. Fifty-two cents is my tariff. Will you take the ticket?" "Yes." The ticket-clerk stamps the ticket, and the fifty-two cents are slowly handed over to the clerk. "Well, you are the meanest man I've met to-day," says the individual, thrusting his head through the hole. "You're a mis'rable skinflint! If I had you out here for five minutes, I'd pay you for your impudence." An elderly lady takes her turn at the aperture. The ticket-clerk is busy; morning trains are nearly due to leave, and passengers are rushing for tickets. "Good mornin', young man," remarked the elderly lady: "it's a nice mornin'." "Do you want a ticket, madam?" says the clerk. "Of course I want a ticket, young man. You would n't see me here, if I did n't want a ticket." Old lady smiles at this, and looks around for applause ; but the public, waiting their turn at the window, don't see the point. "Where do you want a ticket to, madam?" again asked the ticket-clerk. "Why, I'm gwine to see my daughter.” "What place?" jerked the ticket-clerk. "Where does she live?" "Why, young man, she don't live thar; you see" "Now, look here, my good woman," begins the clerk, fairly out of patience. 66 Now, don't call me a woman," cries the old lady. "Ye skinny snipper, I wouldn't handle yer dirty tickets. I'll pay on the car to a gentleman.” With this insulting emphasis, she makes room for a lady who forgets the name of the place she is going to, and requests the clerk to read over one or two lists of places. She says if she heard the name of the place she would know it in a minute. "Fussy old gentleman:" "Look here, young man, what time does the next train call?" "5.45, sir." "5.45!" rejoined the questioner in astonishment. “I thought it was a quarter to six. How you do change." "Look here, mister, you did n't give me enough money. I handed you a ten-dollar bill; you must have took it up, and I want five dollars more." Ticket-clerk looks at his cash and finds that he has not taken a ten-dollar bill so far that day. He replies: "You must be mistaken, sir. I gave you your proper change." "Wa'al, I say you did n't; do you want to cheat me?” "No, sir. I merely say I gave you your money." "And I merely say you are a liar, and if I had you outside this hole, I'd break your nose!" Ticket-clerk instinctively feels if that organ is in its proper place, and the conductor's "All aboard!" attracts the pugnacious traveler to the cars. This is the kind of individual who sends such precious effusions as the following to the general superintendent: "SIR:-Your ticket-clerk at is a thief. He robbed me of a five-dollar bill, and when I taxed him with the vileny, he aboosed me in the wost wa. Yew had better discharge him right awa. "A REGULAR TRAVELER ON YER ROUT." Of course, the general superintendent would take no notice of such an epistle; but these are the charges, treatment, and nuisances to which a ticket-clerk is subjected. He must have patience enough to bear abuse without retaliation, and to answer, with apparent pleasure, daily, hourly, weekly, all the year round, the same old, commonplace questions. "What is the fare to ?" "When does the next train start? "Does it go to ?" "Guess it does not go as far as does it?" "What is the train before that, and what is the train next to that?" "Is there a sleeping-car on it?" "Is there a smoking-car on it? If there ain't, I think it's a shame." "Is the next train on time?" |