--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Sweet, F. H. collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 22 number: 3 published: 1919-01 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Sweet, F. H., “Accompanied by Their Most Severe Censure,” *Improvement Era* 22, no. 3 (January 1919): 241–244." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2203unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera2203unse start_page: 241 end_page: 244 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1919-01) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera2203unse publication_year: 1919 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1919, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # Accompanied by Their Most Severe Censure Accompanied by Their Most Severe Censure By F. H. Sweet Two of the trains had already pulled up the company's wharf to the main line, and a third was sending out its last sig- naling whistle, when a girl hurried down Track 9 with a basket covered by a napkin, evidently containing luncheon. Messenger 16 was swaying unsteadily at the open door of a car, and the girl went straight to him, her eyes bright, her cheeks flushed. But as she drew near she recoiled suddenly, a look of terror coming to her face. "Petro," her white lips tried to say, but no sound came from them. The man passed a hand across his brow, weakly, holding to the car by the other. The girl went a step nearer. "What does it mean?" her voice quivered hoarsely. "Oh, Petro!" Something in the agony of the cry seemed to penetrate the dulling brain of the man, for a tremor went through him, and he straightened suddenly, as though by a great effort. The dull eyes opened and shut heavily, and again the hand passed across the forehad, as if to force some intelligence into the clogged brain. Then : "D-don't speak like that, girlie," an unrecognizable voice mumbled. "I'm not — drunk. I never drank a drop in my life. You know I — speak — true. It's a d-r-ug," his voice drifting back again into the stupor. The girl was beside him with a swift movement, the basket thrust into the car, her hands placed firmly upon his shoulders, her eyes close and gazing straight into his, lovingly, compellingly. "Petro," the voice forcing itself into clearness and steadiness, "look at me now, hard. What is it? Think." The man made a supreme effort. "It was Messenger 12 — Timet, you know." She knew. She had refused Timet's love. "He of-fered me a drink of water, and I took it. Then he crossed to Track 3, and jumped on board his train. It was — the one that just pulled out." "But what did he do it for?" "P-dpn't you understand, Lasia?" a sharp agony quivering in 242 IMPROVEMENT ERA the voice. "This trip was to furnish the money for our wedding. Timet knew it. He planned it just before my train starts, so I will lose the trip. There is no time to find a sub-stitute. My train will go — without me, and the company will be angry, and dis-charge me for drunkenness; and — and — " his eyes again be- coming dull and his form swaying more heavily — "and — I'm los- ing myself. I can't see you. Quick, girlie, find the — manager and tell him it isn't drink. A — a discharged messenger cannot — get work anywhere." He lurched forward and would have fallen, but she caught him in her strong, supple arms. A quick glance both ways showed no one was near. The fruit train on Track 5 was just leaving the wharf, and 6 was sounding its last warning call. Half carrying and half leading him, she hurried Messenger 16 to the nearest entrance, only a few yards away. Several drays were standing about waiting for a job. She motioned imperiously to the owner of the nearest. "Listen, Petro," she said, slowly, putting her lips close to the ear of the now almost insensible man in an effort to make him hear and comprehend: "I am going to send you home. You must not worry a bit. I will fix it all right." He was holding his train papers tightly, and she unclasped them gently from his fingers. Then, as the drayman came for- ward, "Take this man to his home at once, 12 Rue Citronelle. Here is a dollar." Inside, she again glanced sharply around. A man was run- ning in her direction, heading toward the rear of the train, She fecognized him as a friend of Petro's. "Hello, Mirs Las'a," he called. "Come to see Petro off again, have you? He's a lucky fellow. But you must excuse my hurry. This train pulls out in three minutes, and I must reach my sec- tion." Lasia could hear her heart thumping in its anxiety. "Your section is in the rear, I suppose?" she questioned, with assumed carelessness. "Yes," over his shoulder, "the 18 rear cars. I'm Messenger 28. Petro has the forward 20 cars. I switch off at Memphis for Jefferson City, and Petro goes on to Columbus." As he hurried away, the girl's face cleared. She had learned all she wanted to know. Placing her hands upon the floor of the car she gave a light spring and was within, sliding the door quickly behind her. A few moments later her own train bell rang and then the car began to move forward. She never had been on a train before — never been out of New Orleans. But her father had been a banana messenger, and Petro had many times told her the details of his trips. She must manipulate the ventilators of her 20 cars so as to have the ACCOMPANIED BY SEVERE CENSURE 243 heat just right to bring the bananas to prime marketable con- dition when she reached her destination. A few degrees too much either way might mean the loss of a good many thousand dollars to the company. It was a hard trip, for the outside thermometer rose from 31 degrees to 70 degrees in six hours, and the next morning was back again to 31 degrees, and falling. It meant a constant shifting of the ventilators, with an impossibility of keeping the car thermometers from fluctuating uneasily. Zero weather v/ould have been infinitely preferable, for then the ventilators could have remained closed, and the fruit would have generated enough heat of its own to prevent freezing. That night and the next day the girl did not trust herself to sit down once, for fear she might get drowsy and momentarily relax her vigilance. Too much depended on obtaining the best results just now. She was careful to keep herself out of sight, and this she was able to do the more readily on account of the train making few stops. At Memphis the rear section was switched off to connect with a train west, and her own was attached to a train which had just pulled in from Galveston, the engine returning to New Orleans with a lot of empty cars. A few hours later, at a watering stop, the new conductor caught sight of her as he was hurrying along the train. She was ju3t sliding the door, but too late. "Hello," he cried, pausing a moment — tramp?" Lasia slid back the door. "No, sir," she answered, quietly, holding up the papers she had taken from Petro ; "I am in charge of this section. I haven't had a chance to see you before." The conductor gave a long whistle, which ended in an apologetic cough. But his face lengthened visibly. "What's the company thinking of?" he ejaculated hotly. "Next we know, girls will be put in as conductors and engineers and brakemen." Then he hurried away, still choking resent- fully. Seven days later, Lasia entered the company's office at New Orleans. The manager himself happened to be in, and he seemed to recognize her by the papers she carried in her hand. He came forward quickly. But at that moment a figure which had been lounging about the street door — a white, anxious-faced man who had been peer- ing into the office most of the time for the last week — also saw her and rushed in. She turned to him first. "How are you, Petro?" she asked, eagerly— "all right?" "Yes, yes — but you? What have you been up to, girlie? This office has been full of talk." 244 IMPROVEMENT ERA The manager was beside them now. "Is this Miss Lasia?" he inquired. "Yes. Here are the receipts your commission agents gave me. They said the fruit was in prime condition." The manager glanced over the papers hurriedly. "Yes, yes; they're all right," he said. "But we knew that before. Our agents wired us that the fruit was in the very best condition — as good as they had ever received. I — I hardly know what to do about this. It's a most untoward thing, and should receive our severest censure; and yet you do as well as our very best messenger — better almost. I suppose we shall have to pass it over. But such a thing must never happen again. No," as her gaze went inquiringly toward Petro; "we have not discharged him. He may go on the next trip. And you — well, it was a most untoward thing. But I suppose you did the best you could under such short notice. You may stop at the cashier's window for your money, and — yes, there's a little recognition for you there also. You saved us from a possible great loss. But re- member, the recognition is accompanied by our most severe censure." Waynesboro, Va. © Underwood & Underwood, New York HOW PIONEERS MADE WAY FOR INFANTRY ADVANCE Through the marshes of the Belgian front, the pioneers cut the enemy wire entanglements, and in other ways facilitated the infantry advance. These fellows preceded an attack and cleared the path. This sort of work entailed great risk.