Sir J. A. Picton, in his _Memorials of Liverpool_, relates an amusing
incident connected with the opening of the railway at that town. “On the
opening of the railway,” he remarks, “of course, every point and ‘coin of
vantage’ from whence the procession could be best seen was eagerly
availed of. A tolerably high chimney had recently been built upon the
railway ground, affording a sufficient platform on the scaffolding at the
top for the accommodation of two or three persons. Two gentlemen
connected with the engineer’s department took advantage of this crowning
eminence to obtain a really ‘bird’s eye view’ of the whole proceedings.
They were wound up by the tackle used in hoisting the bricks, and enjoyed
the perspective from their airy height to their hearts’ content. When
all was over they, of course, wished to descend, and gave the signal to
be let down again, but alas! there was no response. The man in charge,
excited by the events of the day, confused by the sorrowful news by which
it was closed, and, it may be, oblivious from other causes, had utterly
forgotten his engagement and gone home. Here was a prospect! The shades
of evening were gathering, the multitudes departing, and every
probability of being obliged to act the part of St. Simeon of Stylites
very involuntarily. Despair added force and strength to their lungs, and
at length—their condition and difficulty having attracted attention—they
were relieved from their unpleasant predicament.”