Eaton Democrat

A most ludicrous affair lately occurred at one of the country fairs in a neighboring State. There had been an accommodation train placed upon the railroad passing the village situated near to the fair grounds, the rates of fare upon which had been reduced to just one half the price charged on the regular train. The accommodation train left at 8 A. M., each day. As was expected, on the evening of the last day of the fair, a large crowd had collected on the platform near the Depot, awaiting the arrival of the regular Express train, expecting to get passage thereon, to their different places of destination. At length a whistle was heard in the distance, and amid fire and smoke, the long train appeared in view. Many of the crowd had been waiting for hours, and at that late period were almost overcome with weariness, but at the welcome sound they roused themselves and swarmed on the platform like bees. The eye of the Conductor, he having had some difficulty with a like crowd the night before, took in at a single view the whole dilemma in which he was placed. He certainly must stop, and he knew that in an instant the entire train would be besieged by applications for passage. The cars were already crowded to their utmost capacity, and, as to receiving any more passengers, he knew it to be impossible. It was just as he expected, the wheels hardly ceased revolving, before pell-mell came the whole crowd, scrambling, tearing, pulling, hauling upon the platforms, each one anxious to get within and secure a good seat. They found the door locked however, and well guarded by the conductor and his assistants. It was in vain that he explained to them that he could not carry them, that the cars were already crowded, they would listen to nothing, they wanted to go, so they would. They crowded the platform, they clung to the steps and hung to the windows. His time was up, and he had no space to tarry -but it mattered not to the crowd, they had got a foot-hold and were bound to go. It mattered not how insecure the position, if their limbs were damaged or their lives jeopardised, the company was able to pay, and they hung on. The bell rung, the whistle sounded, but bore no warning to them. The poor conductor looked puzzled, and scarce knew what to do. If the train moved some lives must be lost, and to remain longer where he was he could not. He entreated, told them another train would be along, but the crowd heeded them not, they were determined to go on that train. At length an idea broke upon him. Upon the switch near him, were three empty cars belonging to the accommodation train. "Gentlemen," said he, "if I must, I suppose I must."

He then went and examined the wheels of the empty train and found them in order. "Now," said he, "all who want to go, get into the two front cars of this train.'' Away went the crowd, tumbling over each other, screaming, laughing and hooting; and in less than a minute the two cars was filled to their full extent by the 'homeward bound.' Each had secured a good seat and were congratulating each other as to what their perseverance had gained for them, and solacing themselves with the prospect of a speedy journey. Those nearest the windows had adjusted them, in order to allow a free circulation of air, and carpet bags and valises were stowed snugly away under the seats. Perhaps a better contented company had never got into so small a compass before, for they were bound to go home, and here was a fair chance of doing so. In a few minutes they would be in motion; it was but a few rods ahead to the switch, they would soon hitch on, and then away. The conductor had mounted his train, and the engineer was at his post. "Are you all aboard gentlemen?" asked the conductor,

"Yes sir!" cried a hundred voices.

"Then, gentlemen, I wish you good night, and a pleasant journey home."

The whistle sounded, and the bell rang, and away went the train at the rate of about twenty miles an hour. A dead silence reigned throughout the two cars for almost a minute, when a large, burly red whiskered man straightened himself up and said:

"Gentlemen, in my opinion, we have all been very cheaply 'sold.' He has gone away and left us."

So he had, and a fiercer crowd of men was never seen in that region before. They swore and stamped, and tore, and cursed all railroads that ever were built. It was well the conductor did not go over that road again that night, for he would most likely have found it a 'hard road to travel.' At length with no better prospect before them, the crowd dispersed to the different hotels and caroused the remainder of the night away.-Dutchman.