attempt. "They have three hands apiece," said John B.
Gough; "a right hand, a left hand, and a little behindhand." As boys,
they were late for school, and unpunctual in their home duties. That
is the way the habit is acquired; and now, when responsibility claims
them, they think that if they had only gone yesterday they would have
obtained the situation, or they can probably get one to-morrow. They
remember plenty of chances to make money, or know how to make it some
other time than now; they see how to improve themselves or help others
in the future, but perceive no opportunity in the present. They cannot
_seize their opportunity_.

Joe Stoker, rear brakeman on the ---- accommodation train, was
exceedingly popular with all the railroad men. The passengers liked
him, too, for he was eager to please and always ready to answer
questions. But he did not realize the full responsibility of his
position. He "took the world easy," and occasionally tippled; and if
any one remonstrated, he would give one of his brightest smiles, and
reply, in such a good-natured way that the friend would think he had
over-estimated the danger: "Thank you. I'm all right. Don't you
worry."

One evening there was a heavy snowstorm, and his train was delayed.
Joe complained of extra duties because of the storm, and slyly sipped
occasional draughts from a flat bottle. Soon he became quite jolly;
but the conductor and engineer of the train were both vigilant and
anxious.

Between two stations the train came to a quick halt. The engine had
blown out its cylinder head, and an express was due in a few minutes
upon the same track. The conductor hurried to the rear car, and
ordered Joe back with a red light. The brakeman laughed and said:

"There's no hurry. Wait till I get my overcoat."

The conductor answered gravely, "Don't stop a minute, Joe. The express
is due."

"All right," said Joe, smilingly. The conductor then hurried forward
to the engine.

But the brakeman did not go at once. He stopped to put on his
overcoat. Then he took another sip from the flat bottle to keep the
cold out. Then he slowly grasped the lantern and, whistling, moved
leisurely down the track.

He had not gone ten paces before he heard the puffing of the express.
Then he ran for the curve, but it was too late. In a horrible minute
the engine of the express had telescoped the standing train, and the
shrieks of the mangled passengers mingled with the