STREET CAR A DAY NURSERY.
Unusual Duties Devolve Upon Mem-
bers of Twelfth Street Crew.
T. J. Randall, 522 Elmwood avenue, a conductor on the Twelfth street line of the Metropolitan street railway, and his motorman, were yesterday forced into temporary custodianship of a 2-year-old baby girl.
"When I helped a number of women to alight from my car at Twelfth street and Grand avenue about noon yesterday I didn't know that one of them was making a nursemaid of me," said Randall last night, "or I would surely have set up a longer and larger howl than the baby did a few minutes later.
"About the time I jingled the bell to get away from McGee street, and began to feel good about the light load I had aboard, with lunch looking strong at me after the next trip, I heard that wail. It was long and plaintive. At first I paid no attention to it, and as it persisted I looked into the car and saw the youngster was alone.
"I went to the little one and asked what was the matter. 'Mamma,' was all the answer I could get. 'Where is your mama?" I asked her, and the saddest, sorriest, most doleful and altogether hopeless 'gone,' from the baby, told the story. It was up to me and I made the best of it. I rocked her and talked to her and carried her up and down the car in an effort to quell the riot that was evidently going on within the breast of my diminutive and unwilling passenger.
"At the end of the line I made Allen, my motorman, take the kid, and he had his troubles for about five minutes while I got some candy. The trap back was really pleasant. The candy was good and the kiddy was better. Not another sound aside from the occasional smacking of tiny lips was heard all the way in. At Grand avenue, where the mother got off, there was a delegation waiting for me; mamma remembered her baby, and say, she was tickled to get that kid back in her arms again. But she wasn't any more tickled to get her than I was to get rid of her. Babies are all right at home, but a conductor's job was never calculated to include nursing."
Crossing Patrolman Heckenburg got the story a few minutes after the car left Grand avenue. The mother was almost frantic for nearly an hour, and stayed close to the bluecoat, anxiously inspecting every car that passed the corner until the right one came along.
