. Railroad digest . h one myself. Iarrived, anyway, ontime. Concerning the landof my nativity, it en-joys one distinction, soit has been said—I amnot vouching for thetruth of it—of being sorocky that the farmershave to sharpen thesheeps noses so thatthey can get down between the rocks andget the grass. If this state of things hashelped to sharpen my wits to get a liv-ing without working, then I am only tooglad. Its an awful nice country, to con-template in summer—and to emigratefrom in winter. How on earth I ever took it into myhead to become a sign painter up in thatcountry, then 17 miles fro
. Railroad digest . h one myself. Iarrived, anyway, ontime. Concerning the landof my nativity, it en-joys one distinction, soit has been said—I amnot vouching for thetruth of it—of being sorocky that the farmershave to sharpen thesheeps noses so thatthey can get down between the rocks andget the grass. If this state of things hashelped to sharpen my wits to get a liv-ing without working, then I am only tooglad. Its an awful nice country, to con-template in summer—and to emigratefrom in winter. How on earth I ever took it into myhead to become a sign painter up in thatcountry, then 17 miles from a railroad,where about the only sign needed is oneto the crows to be wise before it is toolate, and keep off the corn patch beforethey get filled with lead—not from thepainting but from a shotgun—has alwayslieen somewhat of a mystery to me: but1 expect it is something on this wise: An-other fellow—now dead—and I, were ar-tistic rivals in the country school, thelittle red one—for honors at slate em-. CHARLES E. COPP. bellishment. comic and otherwise; conse-quently I early developed more of a bumpfor this sort of thing than for that learn-ing which, if more closely followed, woulddoubtless have landed me—at the Philip-pines, possibly, instead of a car paintshop. One day, dreaming—I had plen- ty of time then to dream—being at a sortof Yankee crossroads, I stooped down andpicked up a sign, that had blown down,which had long indicated to weary Wil-lies the distance and way to the nexttown. A sudden fit took me—who knowsbu^ I CiU make my life sublime andleiive footprints on the sands of time bymaking and painting one of these signsto put ii]. here for the information ofthe i-iibnc. Suiting the action to theword. ,^f; a narrator says, I did so. That\v:i< ;,.v lirst eflfort at lettering. It wasadmired—by me. Thetools it was done withwould adorn a signs followed, atthe village stores andelsewhere ; in fact, therewere signs that my fath-er woul
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, booksubjectrailroa, bookyear1901
