and there were late ones in Medford as well as Woburn.
The writer remembers watching from the car window in Winchester some of these dilatory ones, one of whom was generally buttoning on his dickey and one morning was in his stockings with his boots hanging over his arm,—but he got there.
The tickets sold by the station agents on the Lowell road were a curiosity.
Of stout card board of different colors; on one side the name of station, on the other a series of hieroglyphics resembling Chinese characters.
This last was the brilliant idea of one of the railroad officers to prevent their being counterfeited.
The conductor was supposed to know everybody and discriminate at once between transients and season ticket holders.
The latter were allowed one passage each way daily, but the rule was not rigidly enforced.
The stations in our city were known as Medford Steps and Medford Gates.
There are as many steps at the former now as then, perhaps more, but for over twenty years it