• Author: Unknown
• Editor: B-7413
• Newspaper: The Umpire volume 5
• Page Number:
• Date: 7 26 1916
• Tags:
• poetry

SAND

I observed a locomotive, in the railroad yard, one day:

It was waiting at the roundhouse, where the locomotives stay;

It was panting for the journey, it was coaled and fully manned,

And it had a box the fireman was filling full of sand.

It appears that locomotives cannot always get a grip

On their slender iron pavements, “cause the wheels are apt to slip;

So when they reach a slippery spot, their tactics they command.

And to get a grip upon the rail, they sprinkle it with sand.

It’s about this way with travel along life’s slippery track,—

If your load is rather heavy, and you’re al- ways sliding back;

If a common locomotive you completely understand,

You’ll provide yourself in starting with a good supply of sand.

If your trackis steep and hilly, and you have a heavy grade,

And if those who’ve gone before you have the rails quite slippery made,

If you’d ever reach the summit of the upper tableland, :

You'll find you’ll have to do it with a liberal use of sand.

If you strike some frigid weather, and dis- cover to your cost,

That yon’re liable to slip upon a heavy coat of frost,

Then some prompt, decided action will be called into demand,

And you'll slip ’'way to the bottom if you haven’t any sand.

You can get to any station that is on life’s schedule seen,

If there’s fire beneath the boiler of ambi- tion’s strong machine;

And you’ll reach a place called Flushtown at a rate of speed that’s grand

If for all the slippery places you’ve .a good of sand.

—Author Unknown