Living London; its work and its play, its humour and and its pathos, its sights and its scenes; . - of the telegraph and his fifty lexersor more, he keeps his onerous vigil. There isa tick, tick, tick upon his instrument, and ifat that moment one could take a birds-eye view there would be seen to be dartingfrom the front of some big dark thing,crawling in from the North, a great cloud ofsteam lit up by furnace fires and shootingsparks from underneath. This is a nightmail. With a shake and a click, nothingmore, it picks its own way through a mazeof a hundred railway tracks at a great pointcross
Living London; its work and its play, its humour and and its pathos, its sights and its scenes; . - of the telegraph and his fifty lexersor more, he keeps his onerous vigil. There isa tick, tick, tick upon his instrument, and ifat that moment one could take a birds-eye view there would be seen to be dartingfrom the front of some big dark thing,crawling in from the North, a great cloud ofsteam lit up by furnace fires and shootingsparks from underneath. This is a nightmail. With a shake and a click, nothingmore, it picks its own way through a mazeof a hundred railway tracks at a great pointcrossing—the signalman has done his duty—and runs triumphantly into the station^. IN THE ( ; HOISK dimly heard, and another night train comescreeping along. There is also heard what inthe distance sounds like a not unmusical rattleat short intervals, and a shrill call of Right! The shunters are at work, for life is too short. When the ha\e all gone, and theirluggage too, engine and carriages go off totheir brief rest, to be housed and cleaned intheir own wards, with a multitude of it is obvious, without the telling, that
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookpublisherlondo, bookyear1902