The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1890-12-12

but were to approach Wexford cautious,
for there we should find the regular New
York express, which we should overtake.
No. 643 worked stiff, as l knew she
would, but she was so big that when she
got started nothing could trouble her
much, and she just tossed the load along
as light as a feather.
ST noticed that the throttle valve
worked hard when ! had to shut off steam
once or twice slowing through station.
Still l could jerk her in and out well
enough with one hand. An ugly throttle
is terrible thing, sir, though. For, you
see, a man can't be sure. Suppose you
couldn't shut off. Suppose your throttle
got stuck, full head on, going at fifty
miles an hour, and you a-coning into
nothing standing there, tell you. you'd
feel about as the Almighty would if the
earth got loose and he couldn't stop her.
Then Hank puffed smokeless whiffs.
ssWell, again" he resumed presently.
The excitement of his own memory had
brought the sweat drops to his forehead;
his pipe had gone out the third time.
s'That throttle valve did stick on me!
That's just what did happen. We were,
calculated, about eight miles from
Wexford. Somehow, though, there
wasn't any station to slow me up, yet
had a feeling, an awful feeling, too, that
I could not if would shut her off.
sPshawr said to myself, and l played
with the boys curly head with my right
hand. But my left hand kept pressing
and trying that throttle harder and
harder. couldn't stir her! reached
over and put my right hand on the
lever. could not move herl got off
my box. seemed to be in a perfect
frenzy. Isprang at the valve with both
hands and all my weight. She didn't
move hair! And the way we were kit
ing! Probably we were flying over fifty
miles an hour. Iyelled at the fireman:
Give us hand, George!
"He knew it all in second, and tum-
bled in from the tender to put both his
hands beside mine.
.sNowp shouted.
"We threw our weight against it. But
that old beast just shook herself and
jumped and jumped, as much as to say,
You can't shut off my winde
Peter cried the fireman, there's the
Wexford on the switchl We've only
two miles more to liver
"Then we struggled like two mad
bulls. We pulled. Then we showed.
We planted our feet and pulled and
showed. We had no air brakes in them
days But if we had. vow b'lievo to
have put 'em on would have knocked
out the cylinder heads or broke driving
rod, and sent us all to eternity.
"All this while there sat my pretty
boy, as calm, as laughing, because he
thought this was all play But | knew
we'd all got to die, and caught up the
boy. held him, kissing him. It all
took but moment There, less'n a
mile ahead, stood the rear Of the New
York on our track at the station. L
could see her red light. You better
b'lieve forgot all about the big men
behind. was thinking, should l throw
out my boy into the darkness?
Papa, said Burnside, what makes
you look SOP
Because, boy, we can't stop tho
engine. We're all going to be killed in
a minute, unless toss you out there
:" No, papa, said he, reaching out his
pretty hand. Let me try it.
'..Well, did. don't know why.
was holding him, you understand. And
sir, the moment that child's hand struck
that throttle valve, she shut off as easy
as drawing your breath!"
The engineer said he actually tumbled
over on his seat as if he had seen a mir
acle. The train slowed up in answer to
the brake whistle, and stopped just in
front of the station. The matter may
or may not have had any miraculous
element. The good mother urged the
boys going. The behavior of the metal,
one moment binding by heat or other
expansion, the next moment releasing
itself helped by the tremendous steam
pressure in the dome, is one of the many
well known curiosities of metal action.
Would you really have thrown that
boy from the cab if she had not stoppedp'
l asked.
Certainly. It would have been the
only chance of saving his life. | should
have chosen bunch of green, growing
brush and landed him safely up against
the bending branches. Then / should
have jumped myself. We always jump
when we can do no more good here.
My fireman has three times saved his
life SO. have once, of which I'll tell
you some day. Good-by. Here's my
machine, just out of the yard. Rev.
Emory J. Haynes in New York Ledger.