Sullivan republican. [volume] (Laporte, Pa.) 1883-1896, 1891-08-14

stood by, and asked him to give me o
job of which I might be capable.
Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he
walked off with command to "try him
at oiling."
Ed B, the head oiler-dear, brave
heart-I often go down to the dock to
see him when in port here, but the en-
gine is as dear to him as bride or 1
would long ago have bettered his for
tunes-he took me in hand. We
walked along those mere bird-cages of
stair-ways and platforms, a labyrinth of
passages in forest of steel arms, wheels,
shafting and steam piping. To lands
man, that endless maze of mighty anat-
omy is at first simply awful. 1t sobers
one, this sullen, ceaseless throb of the
monsters heart, the deep breathing of
the steam chests, the sigh of the crea-
lures spirit as the plstons make one move
and yet one more herculean thrust tuln-
ing the crank shaft.
Each time, as the piston slowly starts,
it seems as if it must be the last, and in
finite fatigue prevail. But no, it goes
on, night and day, motion, motion, mo-
tion. Don't let me tire you, reader, but
l do Wish | could express to you some
thing of the solemn impression that be-
gan to seize upon me, crawling like a fly
after Ed, the oiler. Then the hiss, the
scream, the little sighs and means of
here and there jet of truant steam, al
most human sounds, issuing from the
jungle of polished steel!
"She's a tiger, she ISL" cried Ed.
stLook outW
l heard that kind exclamation fire.
quently as We went our rounds. There
we're Others doing the same work, but l
became chosen attendant of my cat
like friend. He had sprained elbow
and l helped him professionally. He
got nv story. We were intimate in two
or three days, and l record it with hon
est satisfaction, for Ed B-was gen.
uine man.
1t was one day off the Banks that we
stopped. The chief got a notion that
the shaft was not sound, and the next
voyage it proved so, for a hair line along
and around that huge polished arm of
power turned out an incipient fracture.
But it was on investigation decided this
voyage that there was nothing wrong.
Still, there we lay on the breast of the
swells for more than two hours. Ed
came to me and said:
''Now she's still. the second engineer
thinks we might go into the pit and
clean out the waste and oil puddles. l
don't like it, doctor, when she's got
steam on. What if she turned her
crank, ehW
The brave boy went jumping down,
however; down, down, till he stood di-
rectly unoer that massive crank, which
had stopped ut the half turn over his
head.
The reader will understand that the
space allowed for the crank to make the
full circuit round below was only suffi-
clent for the iron to sweep through.
Into that now empty space Ed was pre-
pairing to step. 1t was dark as grave
and about graves dimensions. l held
the torch above his head. Men working
by torchlight in that place resemble
imps. We were good natured imps,
however, and, though very cautious,
were chatting cheerfuily enough.
~ never like this job at sea-" resumed
Ed, "nor any time, except when the
last pound O. steam is out of her, two or
three days at dock"
"But the engineer knows we are
here" l replied.
''Yes, he ordered me down-and
there's no need of it-and he don't like
me-" Ed got off between his breath,
bending to his perilous work in the pit.
"Heavens, mani" l exploded. catch
ing at what [ thought was his meaning.
''That would be murder!"
"Hush, doctor! Not that, not that!
But if l had refused to come, as he
thought would, don't you see he could
break me-that is, discharge me when
we get into New York"
A few minutes later Ed sent me aloft
for an extra mop of cotton waste. |
was to hurry, for we knew not what
minute the captain might go ahead. l
remember had secured the waste, was
picking my way along the enigma of lit
tie ladders and platforms. Far below,
through the shadows, flung from occas-
ional gas jets the sleeping monster, like
a nickel plated spider, lay prone, and l
seemed to be exploring its viscera like
some daring pathologist. Away below
me in the light of his torch Ed reminded
me of microb.
Suddenly the gong struck from the
pilot house. God help me, can hear it
yeti
was near the engineers landing.
Quick as flash was on the engineer,
and like a tiger l caught at the wheel
which he was turning to let on steam.
.'Man! B is in the crank pitt"
But l was too late. She gave one turn,
at least. Then the scoundrel or fool,
don't know which. yielded to me and we
stopped her. But such cry as came
echoing up from the very heart of the
enginel
"Thank God for that second cry" l
fairly sobbed, as it floated up.
Then | sprang away and down. Ed