and left are invariably
repeated, so that there is no chance of mistake though the failure of
the telegraph instruments, because if any of these should fail, the want
of a reply would at once induce a telegram through the "speaking"
instrument with which each station is furnished, and which is similar to
the telegraph instruments used at most railway stations, and the line
would remain "blocked" until a satisfactory answer set it free. The
working of the semaphore signals, which are familiar to most people as
tall posts with projecting moveable arms, is accomplished by the
mechanical action of the "levers" before mentioned. There are two
"distant" signals and one "home" signal to be worked by each man.
Besides these there are levers for working the various "points" around
the station which lead to sidings, and when these levers are in action,
i.e. placed for the shunting of a goods train, they self-lock the levers
that "block" the line, so that while this operation of shunting (which
just means shoving a train to one side out of the way) is going on, the
signalman could not make the mistake of letting a train pass the distant
signal--the thing is rendered impossible.

From this it will be seen that the signalman has entire control of the
line, and if we consider that shunting of waggons, carriages, and trains
is a pretty constant and lively operation at some stations, we can
easily conceive that the office of signalman can only be filled by a
very able and trustworthy man.

As we have said, just before Gertie's arrival Sam Natly chanced to be
attempting to dine. The telegraph needles pointed to "Line clear" on
both sides of him. Dinner consisted of a sort of Irish stew cooked in a
little square iron pan that fitted into the small stove. Being a
placid, good-humoured man, not easily thrown off his balance either
mentally or physically, Sam smiled slightly to himself as he put the
first bit of meat into his mouth. He thought of his wife, wished that
she was there to assist in the eating of it and shut his lips on the
savoury morsel. A piece of potato was arrested by the sharp telegraph
bell--one beat--of warning. The potato followed the meat as he was in
the act of rising. Sam touched his telegraphic bell in reply to his
signal-friend on the right, and "Train on line" was marked by a
telegraphic needle pointing to these words. As the train was yet a
great way off, at least as to distance, he sat down again and