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Show DEAD BY THE TRACK. Whtlt Hla Loflaf Mother Waited aad W inert In lala for Hlaa. "The Western & Atlantic train left the track last night at Mclvors twid Richard McClain, Sreman, was killed.'" That was ttie menage, almost brutal bru-tal in its brevity, that was flashed: over the wires from Atlanta to th Brunswick Times. He was only a fireman, fire-man, of small consequence to this mat-ter-of fact world, with its rush and bustle, and so a three-line paragraph in the morning papers was his obituary. obitu-ary. But back of this bare notice of Mc. Clain's death is one of the most pathetic pa-thetic stories in the history of railroad: accidents in Georgia. Tho dead man. had a mother and family who lived in the valley of the famous Chickam;iuga. aud about them centers the pathos of the story. But let Engineer Adamsonv who stood weeping over ' the body of his friend, tell it: Ho was a good boy," he said, "ono-of "ono-of the best hearted men in the world. And he loved his family so! Every night when he would run by his home his mother would put out a light to let him know that ali was well, and hs would answer with a light. Last night she may have watched all night, for ha didn't pass, and no doubt she wa trou. bled with th thought that som-'hinj was wrong." ' x And something was wrong. While tho faithful mother, with her lamp of love aflame, was straining her eyes through the darkness of the night, to catch a gleam of tho flashing headlight head-light that announced "all's well' with her son, that son was stark ia death. The eyes that had watched for tha light tn the window that told of tha safety of mother and kindred were glazed by death. No more would they strain tllrough the dusk of the valley 1, for the red ray which conveyed to him- I a message of love from home. J Hichard was dead by the track! The loving mother, what of her? ) I Through tho dark watches she war j ed at the window, in her hand I beacon that assured Richard of t 1 well being of tho jewels of his hear! V. But the rush nnd roar of the engine, and tho flashing of tho headlight ) through the swart reaches of tho valley never came. The minutes ticked slowly by. "Richard is lato to-night," thought tho loving woman, "but I'll wait awhile ; longer. It is almost like a vis! from , him to catch a glimpse of the head- j light" So she waited till her eyes grew fi heavy with sleep. And Richard was dead by the track! 1 Finally 1 1 1 1' ' nan i' m 'Til leave the lasBp in the window and lie down awhilo. I can hear tha roar of the engine ia time to wave the light" Slumber camo unconsciously to the loving but tired eyes. When she awoke the sun was shooting his silver arrows through the chinks of tha room.. The faithful heart turn-id toward to-ward the window. The lamp w s extinguished. ex-tinguished. The mother sat up with ' great eyes staring at the darkened lamp. A shadow of woe camo darkling dark-ling over her, chilling the warm lovo currents of her heart For Richard was dead by the trackt Light and love had died together. |