into the rear end of a passenger train,
which was standing in sight of the signal box, with its locomotive
disabled. Finally, abandoning the attempt to move the lever, he rushed
out into the night and forced his way through the snow in the direction
of the approaching train. He was in time to avert the collision that
appeared inevitable, but in his excitement overlooked his own danger,
and was knocked down and terribly injured by the train he flagged.

Within the last year the largest railroad station in the world, in the
yards of which there is an immense amount of traffic, and from whose
signal towers are worked switches and signals innumerable, has been
opened. This immense station is situated at St. Louis. It covers an area
of about twelve acres, and is larger than the two magnificent depots of
Philadelphia combined. The second largest railroad station in the world
is at Frankfort, Germany. The third in order of size is the Reading
Station at Philadelphia. The four next largest being the Pennsylvania
Depot at Philadelphia, St. Pancras Station in London, England, the
Pennsylvania Depot in Jersey City, and the Grand Central Depot in New
York City.

We have all heard of peculiar thefts from time to time, and the records
of stolen stoves and other heavy articles seem to show that few things
are sufficiently bulky to be absolutely secure from the peculator or
kleptomaniac. But to steal a train seems to the average mind an
impossibility, though under some conditions it is even easy. During the
crusade of the Commonwealers in 1894, more than one train was stolen.
All that was required was a sufficient force to overcome the train crew
at some small station or water tank, and one or two men who knew how to
turn on steam and keep up a fire.

History tells of a much more remarkable case of train stealing, with
events of startling bravery and hair-breadth escapes connected with it.
We refer to the great railroad raid in Georgia during the year 1862,
when a handful of intrepid heroes invaded a hostile country,
deliberately stole a locomotive, and came within an ace of getting it
safely delivered into the hands of their friends.

A monument, surmounted by the model of a locomotive, was erected four or
five years ago to commemorate an event without precedent and without
imitation. The story of the raid reads like fiction, but every incident
we record is one of fact. Every danger narrated was run. Every
difficulty was actually