. Book of the Royal blue . tives and cars are nearly all ofAmerican manufacture. service,so far as iirst and second class coaches areconcerned, is good. The cars are usuallyfurnished with upholstered wicker seats, inharmony with the clinuite, and the officialsare attentive and accommodating. The thirdclass coaches are not very comfortable,having bencdies on either sirle, after thestyle of many .\merican street cars - thoughnot so finely linished. It is to be regretteil that .\mericancajiitalists, usually so enterjirising and wide-awake, should have permitted an til
. Book of the Royal blue . tives and cars are nearly all ofAmerican manufacture. service,so far as iirst and second class coaches areconcerned, is good. The cars are usuallyfurnished with upholstered wicker seats, inharmony with the clinuite, and the officialsare attentive and accommodating. The thirdclass coaches are not very comfortable,having bencdies on either sirle, after thestyle of many .\merican street cars - thoughnot so finely linished. It is to be regretteil that .\mericancajiitalists, usually so enterjirising and wide-awake, should have permitted an til step in and gobble ini]ior-tant Cuban railroads. Our lOnglish cousinswere bold enough to invest their money dur-ing oui military regime. We have jiromisedby our solemn national word to pacify thisisland, and it is a curious fact that while wehave hesitateil to invest our cajiital here,English competitors, apparently with moreconfidence in us than we have in ourselves,have stejijied in .•mil knocked the plums. ^C f -^^ f. YESTERDAY AND TO-DAY. BY (iEORGE X. HOHART. SEEMS like twuz only yistiddy I helped sweet Mandy makeThe stuffin fer the turkey, an the big Thanksgivin ony yistiddy we sat longside the blazin logs,My Mandy in her gingham frock, an me in Sunday togs,An thar discussed the future, while the sparks about us flew,A promisin each other that wed be forever now Im weary longin fer a face I never see—These holidays is tearful times fer old, old folks like me. Seems like t\v\iz ony yistiddy we sung our loves refrain. A walkin whar the autumn leaves wuz scattered roun the lane. Seems ony yistiddy we sat together on the stile. Me floatin through lifes dearest dream, a baskin in her smile. The clouds wuz painted crimson whar the sun sank in the west, An all the world wuz jus a place whar love lulled me to rest. But now the sky is gray, an cold the wind blows crost the lea— These holidays is tearful times fer old, old folks like me. Seems like twuz o
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Keywords: ., bookauthorbaltimoreandohiorailr, bookcentury1800, bookdecade1890
