THE FREE LANCE.
" His good blade• carves the casques of men, for the Free Lance
thrusteth sure."
VoL. XVI.
AN OPERATOR'S TALE.
Two months of enforced rest and idleness had restored my
lost strength and rendered me as fresh and ambitious as I:
ever was. I once more "panted for the fray." I was not com
pelled to pant long, but was soon summoned to prepare for
work. The welcome news came in this' shape:
BEN JOHNSON, WAWA: .
Be at depot on arrival of train No. 1, ready to go to Octo
rara, to relieve the night operator. 0. L. K.
I was on hand at the train, went to Octorara, arrived there
at 9:10 P. M., and was immediately clothed with the toga of
4,
all night man " and was happy. True, I was in the land of
chills and fever. I might get the malaria again. What might
occur did not trouble me. I was not of the, sorrow-seeking
kind. I stuck a pencil behind one ear, a pen behind the other,
drew my chair to the instrument table and prepared for busi
ness.
I had never been in the ndighboring town of Rowlandville
before and imagine my surprise, then, as I was passing along
the street to have a man rush out of a clothing store, grab my
hand and shake it enthusiastically, exclaiming: " Ben, lam
glad to see you. Looking better, too; when did you arrive?
Going to stay long ? Call in before you go. Guarantee to suit
FEBRUARY, 1903.
OXFORD, PA., Oct. Ist.
No. 8.