Collected by Mary C. Parler Nancy Philley
(Collected in Fayetteville, Ark. ) June 2, 1959
Reel 310, Item 4
The Baggage Coach Ahead
On a dark stormy night, as a train rolled along,
All the passengers had gone to their beds,
Except one young man with a babe on his arms,
Who sat with a bowed down head.
The innocent one commenced crying just then As though its poor heart would break.
One angry man said, "Make that child hush its noise,
It's keeping all of us awake."
"Get it out!" cried another, "don't keep it in here We've paid for our beds and can't rest."
But the man with the child answered never a word,
And folded it close to his breast.
"Oh, where is it's mother, go take it to her,"
One kind lady softly said.
"I wish that I could," was the man's sad reply,
"But she's dead in the coach ahead."
As the train rolled onward, the husband sat in tears,
Thinking of the happiness of just those few short years.
The baby's face brings pictures of a cherished hope that's dead;
But the baby's cries can't waken her, in the baggage coach ahead.
Every eye filled with tears at the story he told Of a wife that was faithful and true.
He told how he's saved up his earnings for years Just to build a home for two.
How when Heaven had sent their sweet little babe Their young happy lives had been blest.
He broke down in tears when he mentioned her name And in tears tried to tell them the rest.
Every woman arose to assist with that child—
There were mothers and wives on that train They soon had the little one sleeping again With no thought of worry or pain.
Next mom at the station, he bade them goodbye.
"God bless you," he softly said.
Each one had a story to tell in their homes Of the baggage coach ahead.
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