Semi Weekly Interior Journal

He Had Done Quit.

A fresh countryman came to Atlanta a short time since to get a situation on some of the many railroads centering here. He gained admittance soon after his arrival, and commenced the following conversation with a railroad official:

"I want to get some work on the railroad."

"What can you do?" said the railroad man.

"Oh, most anything."

"Can you run a locomotive?"

"A loco what?" inquisitively asked the countryman.

"An engine, I mean."

"Well, I can't say I can, but I have rid on 'em, and I could mighty soon know how."

"We have no time to learn you. Probably you can lay track. Have you ever tried that?"

"I can't say that I can."

The railroad man studied awhile and remarked, "I don't think you know much about railroad business, but if you want a place just for the name of it, I'll give you a place as car coupler. You can report to Mr. --- and he will tell you what to do. It will pay you $10 per week when you learn to do the work."

The countryman was delighted; the wages were as large as he expected, and he hurried off to hunt the man he was to report to.

About three days after this conversation the countryman came back to the railroad official. His right hand was in a sling, his left hand was black and blue and ought to have been wrapped up. He was dragging his left leg behind him as he walked, and a piece of his left ear was gone, and the left side of his face was a solid scratch. Altogether he looked as if he had been through a threshing machine. He inquired mournfully if he could get a pass ticket to Lincolnton.

"You are not going to quit?" said the railroad man.

"No, I ain't gwine to quit, 'cause I've done quit. I want to go home. This business don't suit me. If I stay here a week I won't be able to git home. I'm a gwine!"—[Atlanta (Ga) Constitution.