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Show COLLEGIATE LIFE <br><br> WERE THE BOILERS LATE? <br> MAGDA JOHANSON, ‘11. <br> "Hie there, Sam," called a tall dark man, waving a letter in his hand; "here's an order from Salt Lake City, [Utah], from the firm of B─ & Co., for steam boilers. Rush order, take this and get busy." So saying he handed the letter to Sam. <br> At the mention of steam boilers my comrade and I emmediately [sic] opened our ears. Here we had been rejoicing for what seemed to us, after a rush through fiery furnaces and finishing shops, a good long time. Suppose, just suppose, that at last an adventure should befall us. I had no idea where on this wide plane Salt Lake City might be, but it must be very, very far away, for one day one of the larger boilers, who was older and wiser than we were, had started on that long trip. She had been very proud and haughty. "Because," she said, "it was such a long and interesting journey that lay before." <br> How we had envied her! And now what if-what was that ? <br> "Yes, here's just the size, these boilers are exactly what we want." I felt an awful pain in my side just where the speaker had struck. Then we were alone, if my arms had been long enough I should have put them around Commies' neck, but, instead, I shouted, "Hurrah! hurrah! A journey across the continent." <br> How the next few days passed I do not know. I only know there was a pain in my body; how my head spun around, how hard I tried to scream when they took my Comrade and not me. But patience, they say is always rewarded, end [sic] I came to the conclusion a few days later, that impatience is too, for I finally found myself beside my comrade. But what a change! <br> "Do I look like you?" I cried aghast. <br> "Well, if I look like you!" she replied. <br> We did, she like me, I like her, crated, padded minus a few joints, which we discovered packed in separate crates. <br> A very ungentlemanly jolt, a roar and we began to move, very slowly at first, but finally gaining what seemed to us a tremendous speed. On and on we went, lurching, swaying and bumping against each other. Through the cracks in the car we saw the [f]ast-fleeing landscape, range upon range of golden grain ripening in the sun. Sometimes there would be a sudden quick roar and we saw a dark object go by. We had passed another train. <br> After a time we went more slowly and finally with another upsetting jolt we came to a full stop. We were switched, sidetracked and labled [sic]. Looking through our windows, the creices [sic], we discovered we were in a great yard, surrounded by a great number of strange-looking objects which we later learned were freight cars, and that we were in just such a car. <br> "Can this be the great city which is our destination?" asked my comrade. <br> "If so I am well satisfied I am going to be disappointed, and in view of that shall refuse to work as well as I am capable of." <br> "It seems to me," I said, after some hours had passed, "we have been lying here long enough; if those people were so anxious for us why don't they come?" <br> After this neither of us were in much of a humor to speak, for waiting is tiresome and only the calendar knows how many days passed before the day the door was opened and a uniformed official entered our car. <br> "Rush Order," he read. "Well, wonder how long this car has been standing here? Salt Lake. Some distance to go yet, since this is only St. Louis." <br> "St. Louis!" we both cried; "St. Louis!" No wonder our owner did not come for us. Later the man returned with another man. "Do you know how long this car has been standing here?" <br> "Don't know; what's in it?" <br> "Boilers." <br> "Where to?" <br> "Salt Lake City." <br> "Oh, say, that's a great joke; here we've been hunting all along the line for this car, sent out tracers for it, too. Great! Wonder if they'll sue us? <br> [Continues on next page.] <br><br> |
