The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1894-08-07
ON TIME
A Boy Fireman's Trying Experience on
An Engine.

pened only yesterday instead of a great
many years ago. Draw up you chairs,
and you, Tom, throw another log upon
the embers, for the air seems chilly.
We Jacksons are railroad men from
away back, and a better engineer than
my father never opened a throttle or
moved a wheel. He was employed on
what vas then known as the Pacific
Short Line and pulled No. 10 from
Packford to Denver, through a country
wildly romantic but thinly settled.
When Nc. Is started on her regular
trip you could not imagine a prettier
train in those days. Cars all new,
lamps bright, windows polished and
the headlight glowing with brilliancy
that, as I remember it, was far ahead
of your modern electricity.
The road was just built and men
were scarce, so the company practiced
economy by letting me run with my
father as fireman. 1t was q feather in
the cap Of a boy of fourteen, and 1 ap-
preciated it.
What pride I experienced in leaning
out of the cab window and watching
the scenery as we few over the coun-
try! shall never forget how magnifi-
cent it all seemed. Here and there the
road curved to the left or right, to pass
some deep glen filed with pines and
overhanging rocks; often a flock of
deer could be zen On a plateau one
hundred feet below, quietly grazing,
but ready to toss up their pretty, limo
cent heads and flee at the slightest ap-
proach of danger.
Sometimes we would dash into a deep
cut and run more slowly while dark
ness reigned for q moment. Emerging
from this, we crossed a pretty noun
tain stream. The little rivulet came
bubbling and rushing down the steep
hillside like a silver ribbon, growing
suddenly wider and falling over a
precipice in CLASSY haste on jagged
rocks below, where it broke into a bril-
liant mass of spray and dazzled the eye
with it's form and color.
1t was a dreary afternoon in Decem-
Der. We had been running extra for
forty eight hours, on account of the
week previous. I was so tired that l
slept upon my cushion, while father
added my work to his own and piloted
our precious freight of human life
through the snow.
Old Is had seemed discouraged and
labored heavily under her burdens as
the climbing grew sleeper; but father
stirred up her strength whenever she
shivered beneath the sleet that struck
her fercely in the face and at ten
o'clock 1 aroused myself to learn that
we were at our terminus.
All, me! How YEARLY my poor father
staggered from the cab and how gladly
I saw the groom" take possession of
the old iron horse to rub her down and
put her in the stall to rest!
But before we left the station for
home an order was given my father to
start in two hours on the night mail
and make the run to Denver in place of
the regular engineer, who was dan
gerously i'll. He shuddered as he read
the order and put his hand to his fore
head in a feeble way, but there was no
possibility of getting rid of the trip
and he did not complain.
Mother fretted about the effects of 30
much anxiety and loss of sleep upon
him and vainly tried to tempt his ap-
petite at ~suppertime, but he talked to
her cheerfully and said he should be
all right, that Ned would take care of
him, and when this trip was over he
would have a rest.
We hurried to the depot, where our
train was waiting, and I thought when
we came to the engine that it painted
and chafed as if tired Of the delay.
Father patted her sides as if she was a
living creature and said to me, with a
smile:
"She is a stranger to me, Ned, but
she is strong and willing. With plenty
of coal and water she will show steam
enough to take is safely through"
We had to wait a few minutes for the
passengers to come boiling out of the
depot, with their arms full of parcels
and lunch baskets, but at last the signal
came and with a firm, gentle hand
father guided us out into the darkness
of the night.
I was determined to keep awake and
do my part of the work, and I soon
saw that father was not as we'll as when
We started. He leaned heavily against
the window and as 1 opened the door