The officials of a Michigan railroad that was being extended were waited
upon the other day by a person from the pine woods and sand hills who
announced himself as Mr. Snags, and who wanted to know if it could be
possible that the proposed line was not to come any nearer than three
miles to the hamlet named in his honour.
“Is Snags’ Corners a place of much importance?” asked the President.
“Is it? Well, I should say it was! We made over a ton of maple sugar
there last spring!”
“Does business flourish there?”
“Flourish! Why, business is on the gallop there every minute in the
whole twenty-four hours. We had three false alarms of fire there in one
week. How’s that for a town which is to be left three miles off your
railroad?”
Being asked to give the names of the business houses, he scratched his
head for awhile, and then replied—
“Well, there’s me, to start on. I run a big store, own eight yokes of
oxen, and shall soon have a dam and a sawmill. Then there’s a blacksmith
shop, a post-office, a doctor, and last week over a dozen patent-right
men passed through there. In one brief year we’ve increased from a
squatter and two dogs to our present standing, and we’ll have a lawyer
there before long.”
“I’m afraid we won’t be able to come any nearer the Corners than the
present survey,” finally remarked the President.
“You won’t! It can’t be possible that you mean to skip a growing place
like Snags’ Corners!”
“I think we’ll have to.”
“Wouldn’t come if I’d clear you out a place in the store for a ticket
office?”
“I don’t see how we could.”
“May be I’d subscribe 25 dols.,” continued the delegate.
“No, we cannot change.”
“Can’t do it nohow?”
“No.”
“Very well,” said Mr. Snags as he put on his hat. “If this ’ere railroad
thinks it can stunt or cripple Snags’ Corners by leaving it out in the
cold it has made a big mistake. Before I leave town to-day I’m going to
buy a windmill and a melodeon, and your old locomotives may toot and be
hanged, sir—toot and be hanged!”