But the men in the line were not all of this
caliber. Some were poor, wretched beasts, inarticu
late and callous, but for all of that, in many ways
very human. I remember a carter, evidently return
ing home after the day s work, stopping his cart
before us so that his young hopeful, who had run to
meet him, could climb in. But the cart was big,
the young hopeful little, and he failed in his several
attempts to swarm up. Whereupon one of the
most degraded-looking men stepped out of the line
and hoisted him in. Now the virtue and the joy of
this act lies in that it was service of love, not hire.
The carter was poor, and the man knew it; and the
man was standing in the spike line, and the carter
knew it; and the man had done the little act, and
the carter had thanked him, even as you and I
would have done and thanked.

Another beautiful touch was that displayed bv
the Hopper and his ole woman. He had been
in line about half an hour when the ole woman
(his mate) came up to him. She was fairly clad,
for her class, with a weatherworn bonnet on her
gray head and a sacking covered bundle in her
arms. As she talked to him, he reached forward,
caught the one stray wisp of the white hair that was
flying wild, deftly twirled it between his fingers, and
tucked it back properly behind her ear. From all
of which one may conclude many things. He cer-

[[96]]

p095 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p096w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p097

v?