He was not badly hurt except for the scalding
water that poured upon him. As soon as we could see him, the fireman and
I got hold of him and forcibly pulled him out of the wreck. His limbs
were awfully burned--cooked would be nearer the word.
[Illustration: "It was a strange courting ... there on that engine."]
The passengers crowded around, but did little good. One look was enough
for most of them. There were ten or twelve women in the cars. They came
out slowly, and stood timidly away from the hissing boilers, with one
exception. This one came at once to the injured man, sat down in the
snow, took his head in her lap, and taking a flask of liquor from her
ulster pocket, gave poor 'Lige some with a little snow.
I got the oil can and poured some oil over the burned parts to keep the
air from them; we needed bandages, and I asked the ladies if they had
anything we could use for the purpose. One young girl offered a
handkerchief and another a shawl, but before they were accepted the cool
woman holding 'Lige's head got up quickly, laying his head down tenderly
on the snow, and without a word or attempt to get out of sight, pulled
up her dress, and in a second kicked out two white skirts, and sat down
again to cool 'Lige's brow.
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