"I doan perzackly know, Perfessor, but it seems like there was a discontinuation ob de transportation facilities, when some sudden construction on de elongated tempestuousness attached to de railroad made de cars go bump! bump! Bang! Smack! Crash!"
"Washington! Washington! When will you stop using words that don't mean anything!" cried the old man, hurrying forward. "I presume you mean there has been a railroad wreck?"
"That's it, Perfessor. De extenuatin' circumstances ob transmigration—"
"That will do, Washington!" said the aged man, somewhat sternly. "You must stop talking, and act. This is no time for foolishness. There may be people hurt. Come along and let us see what we can do."
"Yes, sah!" replied the negro, calming down.
Then the two hurried down along the track, piled high with the debris of the runaway freight train.
"My! My! This is a terrible wreck!" cried the old man, as the two climbed over the mass of wreckage.
"Hi, Perfessor!" called the colored man, suddenly. "I've found something!"
"What is it, Washington?"
"It's a boy, an' he dead!"