The Brussels Post, 1960-07-14, Page 5Saltiest Railroad
In All Canada
NAME'S THE SAMI — Just so traveler's won't get confused over where they are, r
of Cuba, Mo„ erected this sign along. Rt. 66.
idents
tugged it open he 094,
fronted by my #teedeetand
Jones, who entered the. Immo.
with more. speed then I ted .1*
IWO him capable,,
,"se was passing,' geld -07, eiogir, "so we grabbed him an,.
made him Jpeo. ne,e
As P.C. Jones and his priserie0
passed us and disappeared, Ben-
son took hold of my saute.
"You didn't see him do
he said, "Hoye did you kriosyf*
oI didn't," T replied, "He knew,
I would be Outside. that night.
l'ie'd been Watching me foe
weeks, and he knew about my"
concert at his wife's place.
had everythingeimed: he slfppe
round and waited for me to go,
Hut he made one mistake.
"'You see, I do know -mushy,.
He may be a. brilliant violinist,
but. he's ee patch on 11'0?
ler, and it was Keeipeer who
gave me MY second concert that.
night,"
I nodded towards the door o
the lounge. "There's a hi-fi Set
in there," I said. "And I'M will-
ing to bet you'll find several);
greieler records, too."
—From "Tit-Bite,"
Sweet-Sounding Murder Melody
FOR BULK MAIL — The Palace
of the Governors In Santo Fe,
N.M., is pictured on this 11/4 -
cent U.S. stamp. It is considered
America's oldest public building,
constructed in 1610 and used as
seat of government In the state
until 1901, The stomp will be
used for non-profit organiza-
tional bulk mail,
Nylon Discs To
Speed Building
A tremendous increase in the
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blocks are keyed' together by
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Grooves three-quarters of ars
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Which have to make contact.
Then, into the groove of each
yard-long block are inserted,
three of the locking discs at
equai distances.
The disks are an inch and a
half in diameter, so this leaves
three-quarters of an inch pro-
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the block that is put on top,
Only the lowest layer of blocks
has to be fixed with mortar.
It is claimed this method en-
sures that houses are sixty per
cent. stronger than those built
with mortar.
left over from lunch, and called
it "fricasseed chicken,"
For, far More than most rail-
ways, the DAR has a person-
ality that win: friends, It has
inspired books, poems and songs.
In the last decade the popular-
ity of its employees has carried
art least two of them into public
office,
Gladys Porter was manager of
the DAR station restaurant at
Kentville when she was elected
mayor of that town — a post
to which she has been repeatedly
re-elected. She was Nova Scotia's
first woman mayor.
And when Raymond Bourque
was conductor, steward, porter,
dishwasher a complete one-
man staff — of the "flossy old
club car" mentioned nostalgical-
ly in the Chronicle-Herald edi-
torial, the voters of Yarmouth
County elected him to represent
them in the Nova Scotia legisla-
ture. He discovered that taking
care of passengers is no chore for
a politician. Not just his own
constituents, but people from all
constituencies, bent his ears with
their political views and pressed
him to support their causes.
Meanwhile, he had a wife and
seven hungry children to pro-
vide for, and the tips he counted
on to balance his family budget
dropped alarmingly because tra-
velers were unwilling to risk of-
fending the dignity of an MLA.
Roue ate unpleasant snigger.
but how do I know? I've
never seen you before and 1
certainly have no wislk to ate
yoe again. You could have done
it, My wife was a wealthy
woman and from what you flay
you had been watching the.
'house for long enough." •
'lint you left the house," I
told
I paused to let my wok"
sink in, watching him stiffen, •
°What do yoU mean?" Be triad
to look indigent, but failed,.
°What I said, my friend, You
left your homei went O. her
house and murdered her in cold
'blood. I saW you,"
waited to. see what effect
any colossal piece of bluff would
have. Hut 1 was unprepared for
what followed.
lie marched forward a
grabbed me by my muffler.
"You lousy tramp! Wrio will
believe you? No pose You can,
bleat as rnuoh .as you like and
no one will listen, You've no
proof e- have you? Well, have
you? .ht's your word egainet.
-mine. You've been seen lurking
around the house:"
Half throttled -by my scarf
Tasped: ""Ail right, You win,
here's no hope of • me even
`,making myself heard. But I
would like to know how you did.
in end why, No one will listen to
me, as you say."
"Why I did it?"
He sniggered again and I could
see .he was half-crazy,
"She cheated me out of every-
thing I had, that's why. Set her-
self up well, lived in luxury
while I existed in this pigsty,
She came here nine months ago.
Found out where I was after I
skipped out of the last place. She
was bleckenalling me, bled me
of every penny. So I went round
there after her last demand and
choked the life out of her,
'There — tell that to the
police and hear them laugh."
He released .his hold of my
scarf and made a - strangling ac-
tion. I shuddered at the thougtt
of those artistic hands capable
of making that 'wonderful musie
committing such a crime. But he •
was talking again, muttering
over and over to himself.
"I made a mistake „once --
just once —.and she's been cash-
ing in on It ever since, Finished
me on the concert platform, She
deserved what she got."
He swung round on me.
"Now, get out. Get out-"
I got. I ran to the door and
WA erase fond moreoriee „
the. flossy old club car on the.
dignified passenger train: the.
sight of steward, brakemen,
conductor, fireman and engineer
,shoveling the overnight apeede
sier out Of a snowbank while
the sleeping ear passengers. shit/
erect uncomplainingly in their
berths;, the chorus of greetings:
exchanged at every station along
the way by .passengere, crew end
the inevitable Rita of station
bystanders,'"
The Chronicle-ilereld. added
with a sort of .half-chuckle, half,
sigh, that the - DAR bad been a
traditional "symbol of unhurried
and unruffled Nova Scotia," No-
body could dispute this.
In the DAR'S enregenerated.,
Unimproved era, both passengers
and crew seemed perversely
pleased by its utter contempt
for timetables, which prompted
wild, imaginary tales like the
one about the frantic mother
Who protested to the conductor
that- her 'baby would be born
on lewd if they didn't reach
Halifax soon.
"You shouldn't have come on
this train • if you were expect-
ing," the conductor dhided her,
"I wasn't," she snapped, "when
I got aboard."
DAR veterans like Harry Hay-
stead can top the fictional stories
with true ones. Once, a small
girl who. boarded the train at
Annapolis asked Conductor Joe
:Edwards to tell her when they
arrived at a flag station called
Auburn. Her request slipped Ed-
ward's mind until they were a
mile beyond Auburn; then he
pulled the cord and backed the
train up.
"This is where you get off,"
he told the child, "We're at
Auburh."
"oh, I don't get off here,"
she said.• "I'm going right
through to Halifax, but my mo-
ther said that when we got to
Auburn it would be time to take
one of my pills."
Travel on the DAR in bygone
days may have been slow but
it wasn't dull. When' an infant
cried incessantly, and the mother
explained apologetically 'to her
fellow passengers that she'd left
its milk at home, a young man
climbed off at the first step,
jumped a fence and pursued a
cow in a pasture, While every-
body cheered and the crew held
the train, he caught the animal
and filled a empty bottle with
milk for the baby,
At Winsor Junction he might
have filled the bottle without
leaving the train at all. Clarke's
History of the Earliest Railways
in Nova Scotia, written by a
DAR conductor in the 1920's, re-
ports that trains stopping alt
Windsor Junction used to be
"boarded by goats which pro-
vided milk for a number of Junc-
tion homes. Walking through the
cars, the goats would visit the
passengers in quest of something
to eat."
Almost anything could and did
delay DAR trains snowdrifts,
streams overflowing their banks,
a collision with a moose, par-
ades or a firehose from a pond.
on one side of the track to a
bluetit* farnehouse on the other.
was typical of the atmosphere
'that prevailed on the old, errs-
tic, unimproved DAR — and
still 'prevails, for that matter
on the new, modernized and on-
schedule DAR -e- that nobody
ever seemed to mind, Nobody
either; when the club
ear • steward occasionally . re-
seevedi for dintier,.the veal stew
Budgets are not merely affairs;
of arithmetic, but in a thousand,
ways go to the root of prosperity
of individuals, the relation of
classes and the strength of king..
dome. Gladstont.
In Harry Haysteacee ,hoyhood
he yearned, as. did ao reeny Nova
Scotians of his. generation, to be,
the master of a schooner, Hafer,
elettately, heights bottened hitn
(Since he couldn't swing througit
;lasing like a monkey theettgh.
jungle, he realized he'd never be
4.. mariner. Instead, be a(Yt a job
with the Dominion Atlantic Rail-
way, He thought that working
tor the DAR would be a little
like going to sea. He still .thinks
so.
Now a retired ,conductor who
lives at the Annapolis Valley
town of Kentville, Haystead
claims with a twinkle in his eyes
that the DAR is as much like a
ship as anything that doesn't
actually sail. This is only a slight
exaggeration,
The DAB is unqueStionably
Canada's — and perhaps the
world's saltiest railroad. Its
bridges cross briny tidal rivers,
not ordinary freah water rivers,
and when the fog rolls in, its
locomotive whistles have to com-
pete with the din of foghorns. A
sot of its passengers wear the
blue uniform of the navy or the
casual but recognizable garb of
the fisherman. Its refrigerator
oars have a redolence of lobsters,
scallops, clams, haddock.
'
herring,
'tuna, cod, halibut and flounder.
And, for much Of its run from,
Yarmouth to Truro and Halifax,
the DAR winds along the Bay
of Fundy and Mines Basin, pass-
ing through small picturesque
ports like a string through beads,
Even in the fruit-growing An-
napolis Valley, the railway is
seldom more than a few miles
from the roar of the steel, and
When it finally turns inland, it
Makes the shortest route from
the Fundy shore to Halifax, the
proud naval base and harbor on.
he Atlantic.
Although the 101 year - old
DAR, with its 287.5 miles of .
track, has been a subsidiary of
the Canadian Pacific Railway
since 1912, Nova Scotians con-
tinue to look on it as their own
—an integral part of their his-
tory, like tall ships, Bluenose
skippers, Joe Howe and Thomas
'Chandler Haliburton. Indeed,
they haven't forgotten that
Howe, the fiery editor and
champion of freedom, and Halt-
burton, the great hutrourist who
was Howe's friend and wrote for
his newspaper, were the first to
advocate that the DAR be built,
So sentimental are they about
their railroad that last April
when J, C. IVIeCuaig, the DAR's
big affable manager, announced
a $2 million 'program to replace
the steam locomotives with die-
sels and bring DAR standards
up to those of the CPR main line,
Nova Scotians didn't know whe-
ther to xejoice or mourn. They
liked the idea of faster service.
But they were sadly aware that
ouch improvements made the
DAR, — which once had snorting.
scarlet and gold locomotives,
each. emblazoned with the name
of its personal engineer — lees
and less like its old rakish .flame •
boyalit self.
The Halifax Chronicle-Herald
interpreted the feelings of the
Overage Nova Scotian in an. edi- •
tonal that
"This move toweedeetfieleney,
and modernization, Whiali.oeras.
teflected as far back an 1966,,
eThen the Heliftut to Yarrateuthe
Paylinere (diesel -passenger date
elerS) went into Operation,. does When the stubby competent
diesel Dayliners succeeded the
elegant but shabby steam-drawn
passenger trains and no club ear
required his talents, the versa-
tile and handsome r Bourque, an
Acadian who speaks French and
English with equal facility, was
hired by one of his more cele-
brated. passengers — Nova Sco-
tia's richest native son, Cyrus
Eaton, the Cleveland niultirnile
Bonaire. His duties include look-
ihg after the Pugwash estate at
which Eaton bririgs together
groups of internationally-known
intelleottals to discuss world
problems
Even without the frills and ec-
centricities Of the eteani trains;
even with Canada's most unusu,
al club car conductor gone, the
DAR has .color, flavor and that,,
atter, The Chronicle-Herald
torial writer's fear that progress
would eliminate "the chorus of
greetings exchanged at every
station," proved unwarranted. At
each stop, conductors like Avard
Moese, a spry amiable man who.
has been with the, leAlt Since
1915] can call by name nine out
of 10 men, women and children
on the pled-eine,
Today the grandchildren of
couples he originally met when
they Were hoirieyhmehirig Via
DAR, travel with Morse., People
Who live in tiny cosxiiiiuiiiiies
don't hesitate to ask hint to do
errands for thelit lit larger plaeee, ,
'Hit eagerness to be obliging is
one Meet of his genius for :Make
ltig friends, In his Ptirtablia desk
he proudly keeps a neatly tied
bundle of fan Mali letters sent
him by people frorii all over
itteeth Aitieriek who traveled on
the DAR and appreciated hie
kindness'', fan Selerideri In
Imperial oft Reek*.
We met as arranged, outside
'the violinist's house. A queer trio
we must have looked, but it was
dark and there were no street
lamps.
We waited silently until light
f 1 oo ded the front room. We
watched the man take his place
in front of his music-stand, Then
I knocked on the door, noticing
thankfully that the window was
open.
The man himself responded to
any knock and I saw him clearly
for the' first time. I must confess
to a shaking feeling about the
knees,
"What can I do for you?" he
asked politely enough, but be-
hind the simple phrase I could
detect a certain nervousness.
"I am an admirer of yours," I
began. "I have stood outside
your home every night for
(months enraptured by your ex-
cellent playing. No less was I
an admirer of your late wife's
music. Between the two of you
you have given me some very
pleasant evenings."
His expression changed at
once.
"Thank you," he said. "I'm
grateful for your appreciation—
now if you'll excuse me . ,"
and the door began to close.
I put what was left of my
shoe between door and step,
wincing at the blow my foot
received.
"Here, what's the idea?" Hie
expression b et ante menacing,
"Do you want me to call the
police?"
"I don't think you will want
to do that," I replied, with
plenty of meaning. "I think you
should hear what I have to say
first."
For a moment a flicker of fear
crossed his face and. I felt con-
fident that I was oe the right
track.
He led me into the lounge,
was an ordinary room, plainly
furnished. The four corners were
occupied by a bookcase, a stan-
dard lamp, a radiogram and a
table,
The music stand and a small
card-table stood in the centre of
the roam,
The man stood with his back
to the door, "What exactly do
you want?"
He kept his eyes on me, re-
garding me with obvious dis-
taste, and I began to explain.
"You see," I said, "suspicion
naturally falls on me. I was seen
near your wife's house on the
night of the murder, and of
course my appearance doesn't
help matters, Any day now they
might arrest me and that would
be most unfair, because you
know and I know that. I'm in-
nocent,"
'His face blanched, then he
SEARCHING THE RUINS — Groping for het possessions, e
woman is surrounded by the ruins of thd city of Agadir, Mor-
occo, leveled by an earthquake.
A Complete Story
fly Val Johnston
She had been murdered. It
took a while for the message of
the bold, black type to sink in.
Then, beneath the main story, I
read that the police were anxi-
ous to find me, in the hope that
I would assist in their investi-
gations. I was a suspect,
Reading further, I had another
shock. She had been married.
When I sale to whom, the whole
thing became painfully clear.
They would not believe my
story, of course, but that would
be understandable as I had been
seen near the scene of the crime,
and a loitering tramp always
arouses suspicion. Though this
loitering of mine had been go-
ing on for scene months, it was
ironic that no one had noticed
me before that fateful night.
The murder had taken place
in a large, ivy covered house,
half-way along a narrow lane.
Every night, outside this house,
I had enjoyed the first half of
a free concert. I had never seen
the murdered woman, but she
was certainly a brilliant pianist.
When she stopped playing I
would move on to the smaller
house, This was where I heard
the second half of the concert.
It was the home of a superb
violinist Who managed to bring
tears to my eyes with his ren-
dering of same of the loveliest
pieces ever composed. I wonder-
ed how such talent could. go un-
discovered,
It was fine and. calm — on that
fateful evening — as I stood be-
fore the pianist's hous e, The
woman was alive, very much so,
She was playing at her best. It
was 'when I reached the man's
house that I knew there eras
something wrong,
Yet if I said what was on my
mind I would be lei real trouble.
No one would believe me, Ac-
cording to the police, it was
While I was at the violinisei
house that the murder was com-
mitted.
I was lucky in one respect. I
had not stayed the night in my
shack but had spent it at the
home of an old friend — Joe
Benson. It was in his parlour
that I was reading the account
of the crime, It would not be
long before the police would be
paying him a visit. Every min-
ute was precious..
I had no definite proof that
bhe man was the murderer, but
I was pretty certain that he was
out of the house that night. It
was only a hunch, though, and
the only way I could use it was
'to obtain a confession.
I made up my mind. I would
be doing myself out of free cone
certs for all time, but as things
stood at present I was not in a
positiori to enjoy them, anyway.
It was a slim chance, but one
worth taking. My friend and' I
talked. the whole thing over, I.
Asked him to enlist the help' of
the vicar, another close feiend
Who believed in me despite my
unkempt appearance,
He telephoned the „Minister
and asked him to coine over as.
Soon as possible,
The vicar was not very im-
pteesed with my plan.
"But, Vicar,", I argued,, "if the
murderer isn't totted 9 o nil
they'll arrest nee. After all, t
WAS seen there, and if tell
them niy theory eestimes
fee a clumsy attempt at framing,
The only way is for trie to force
a eonfessiOti out, of hint 1 pro-
niise not to Use violence, I must
have witnesses, and who better
titan you and Joe *Beriseolil"
"Very Well, you bait 'Count en
Me to be there."
theit,° said Joe and;
I in nelson. tie vicar nodded
,ettelerOse• to hie feet.
We• shook hands all heiind and
X went Up to the boxroom where
Joe had suggested I should hide
lest the ,Police should deekle to
'rayvisit.
THE EYES HAVE It President EisehlioWee wipes his eyes
after 'Ma- car" "rail through a eked of fear gas 'which Wai used
litugutiyari police to break ur ci student demonstration- our-'
ng his filoicircode through the tender of Montevideo. 'Uruguay
WaS the lett itoje 'for foUiefiallate tete' Of Setitle
Anierlea:,
ggi'' .
ONCE A HOTEL — Rows of shattered evindoees test atnid the rubble. of What once whs. lin,
Hotel Saacla Agedir, Metatte, after earthquakea d tidal Wove devastated the re,
soli pert thy Iola P.A. 10'.