The Colfax chronicle. [volume] (Colfax, Grant Parish, La.) 1877-1981, 1884-03-08
THE FIREMAN,s STORY.

ElhLmANO
Coal-dust, cinders, oil and smoke
usually make firemen on duty rather
grimy-looking personages. Perhaps
few among the thousands of passengers
who ride in the railroad cars behind us
would care for our acquaintance. But
we are useful--as useful, perhaps, as
any other class of men; and certainly
we have our full share of the hard, dis
agreeable things in life, including fire.
quent peril and much exposure to
weather.
Working up from fireman to engine
driver-or engineer, as we are usual
ly called in this country--is often a slow
process. There are men on our line
the Hudson River Railroad-who have
been firing eleven years, with no pro-
motion yet; though they are no doubt
fully competent to run an engine. For
promotion depends almost wholly upon
vacancies occurring, or some specialin-
fluence at headquarters.
A man ought to become thoroughly
familiar with q locomotive in eleven
years. l thought that l knew every
screw in mine after firing two years.
Yet it takes good deal of time to learn
to fire1well, so as to get the most steam
out of the least fuel, and have the high
est pressure at the grades where it is
most needed. Todo this man should
know the road. every rod of it, as well
as the engine.
Then comes the oiling. An engine
requires great deal of oil, as well as
coal and water. The fireman has to
keep in mind all those scores of bear
ings where oil has to be applied. Be-
tween oiling, shoveling in coal, shaking
and stirring up his fire-to keep It
steady and holland looking to hisstock
of coal and water, he is kept busy, and
must needs watch sharply. But q man
gets these duties well fixed in his head
in time.
1t is while firing that the practical
knowledge of running an engine is
gained. A fireman is the groom, so to
speak, Of the '.iron horse" He must,
morning or evening, have the engine
polished, "fired up" and ready for his
superior, the engineer, to step into the
cab and start of. Usually the engineer
does not make his appearance till the
moment of connecting with the train.
Between the engineer and fireman there
generally exists an easy-going and
manly sort of friendship, though have
known cases where the two men de-
tested each other.
When l began to fire under ''Doc"
Simmons, scarcely knew enough to
build good fire in cook stove, and
could not have found quarter of the
oil caps. must have been trial to
him the first week or two. But he
never gave me sharp word, though
he often had to tell me things over and
over again.
''Doc"-as the railway men all called
him-was superior engineer. He
knew every pound of metal in loco
motive; just where it lay, and how
much it was good for. He was one of
those men who seem to feel just what
there is in locomotive the moment he
takes hold of the levers and starts up.
He was a good-hearted fellow and al
ways had pleasant word, or a Joke,
all along the line; and it is generally
the case that such men do not fail the
company, or the public, at critical
moment.
went home and cried like a baby
the day "Doc' was killed. II it had
been my own father, could not have
felt half as badly. l actually wished
that had gone to the bottom of the
river with him. It was the night of the
9th of February. and fearfuIly cold.
We had mo. III" then, and took out
the Pacific Express, as it was called,
from New York City, up the line to
Albany. 1t was bitter night, and the
line was frosty and slippery. The ex-
press was always heavy train. That
night we had three baggage and express
cars and eight passenger coaches; and
we were late out of New York to begin
with-about fifteen minutes, think.
Such cold weather is always democrat
izing to railroad. 1t is much harder
to make time; all metal works bad; and
though the fire appears to burn brighter,
it takes more coal to make steam. The
train seems to hang to the line. Then,
too. the cutting wind is enough tofreeze
the marrow in mans bones.
1t might have been mostly fancy on
my part, but thought Doc had an
odd look in his face that night, as he
got into the cab. He was more serious
than usual; for we both knew that we
had hard run before us, and cold
one. Both of us were mufiled up in fur
caps and old overcoats.
''Shove in the coal, Nick, and shake
her down smart. We want every ounce
of steam tonight" says Doc. Fifteen
minutes behind and eleven cars ont
Those sleepinglcoaches are as heavy as
q whole block. too. I'm glad this is a
line and all clear ahead
We pulled out, and from the way
Doc handled her, knew that he meant
to pick up that fifteen minutes, if it was
in the old machine to do it. suppose
we made thirty-five miles an hour, per-
haps forty, on the level stretches.
On we went, reeling of the dark,
bleak miles, with the sharp wind cut
ling into the cab. till nesr New Ham,
burg station, where the line then crossed
Greek on trestle-bridge