An engine-driver on the Pennsylvania Railway yesterday saved the lives of 600 passengers by an extraordinary act of heroism. The furnace door was opened by the fireman
to replenish the fire while the train was going at thirty-five miles an hour. The back draught forced the flames out so that the car of the locomotive caught fire, and the engine-driver and the fireman were driven back over the tender into the passenger car, leaving the engine without control. The speed increased, and the volume of flame with it. There was imminent danger that all the carriages would take fire, and the whole be consumed. The passengers were panic-stricken. To jump off was certain death; to remain was to be burned alive. The engine-driver saw that the only way to save the passengers was to return to the engine and stop the train. He plunged into the flames, climbed back over the tender, and reversed the engine. When the train came to a standstill, he was found in the water-tank, whither he had climbed, with his clothes entirely burnt off, his face disfigured, his hands shockingly burned, and his body blistered so badly that the flesh was stripped off in many places. Weak and half-conscious he was taken to the hospital, where his injuries were pronounced serious, with slight chance of recovery. As soon as the train stopped the flames were easily extinguished. The unanimous testimony of the passengers is that the engine-driver saved their lives. His name is Joseph A. Sieg.
—Daily News, Oct. 24th, 1882.
IT’S CROYDON.
As an early morning train drew up at a station, a pleasant looking gentleman stepped out on the platform, and, inhaling the fresh air, enthusiastically observed to the guard, “Isn’t this invigorating?” “No, sir, it’s Croydon,” replied the conscientious employé.
YOUR TICKET.
On a Georgia railroad there is a conductor named Snell, a very clever, sociable man, fond of a joke, quick at repartee, and faithful in the discharge of his duties. One day as his train well filled with passengers, was crossing a low bridge over a wide stream, some four or five feet deep, the bridge broke down, precipitating the two passenger cars into the stream. As the passengers emerged from the
wreck they were borne away by the force of the current. Snell had succeeded in catching hold of some bushes that grew on the bank of the stream, to which he held for dear life. A passenger less fortunate came rushing by. Snell extended one hand, saying, “Your ticket, sir; give me your ticket!” The effect of such a dry joke in the midst of the water may be imagined.
—Harper’s Magazine.