The Cape Girardeau Democrat., 1895-02-09

fack alleesame. Well, sir. there uste,
be bUll-gine here in this ere yard
wot got stuck on a cov-s!:ie-dead
mashed on her. The bulI-gine was
called No. 119. and used to run fror
here to Albany. He was a handsome
bang-up feller as ever see. he WAS
from the top of his smokestack to the
tender coupler. There warn't a better
built bull-gine on the hull New York
Central. nor one that stood prouder on
his driving wheels. 1t was a splendid
sight, sir, to see the way in which that
| great feller would fill hisself up with
steam and stand there just a-fumin'
and a-frettin' till he got the word to go.
Then he'd roar out just for the spirit
| OF 1t and shake his crank pins and curl
ing irons, and go stalking up the track
| Just as proud as Lucifer But for all
he was such fine roaring bull-gine,
his great big blazing heart was as soft
as putty toward that cow-gine I've told
You Of She was a yard engine and
WASH very much to look at. ] used TO
think she was too high in the carriage
and her gearing pins and star-buckle
cogs never do please me. But. Lor'
bless you. sir. you'd never dare to say
a word agin her to old 179. or he blow
out all his steam gauges with rage
Wait minute. won't you. please"
sald the new reporter. until | get
down all those technical terms correct
ly. because I've noticed that all the
other writers are very careful about
technicalities.
That's right, sir; you can't be too
keerful about having the right word in
the right place. Why, thankee, l guess
I'll stick to the same. sir. Well, as was
sayin', or was gwine to say, No. 179
first got stuck on the little yard cow
gine over here in the roundhouse. They
had stalls right beside each other. and
when she was run in for the night after
hard days work he'd come flying in
with the Albany express. and bless you,
sir. You could hardly hold him on the
turntable he was that tearin' to get in
snug and comfortable 'longside his
mash. One day. when they WAS very
busy in the yard. they got No. 179 tc
help along with her switches for an
hour or so, and you never see such
proud old bull-gine in your life. He
just hOoted with JOY. and pranced up
and down the yard with his biler just
glistenin' with pride. We'll, sir il
went on like that for nigh pom two
year, until all we engineers got to no.
ticin' of it. and there was some talk Of
bringin' the thing up before the presi.
dents meeting. Then one day. during
the Columbian show out at Chicager it
was. old No. 179 had to run out to Buf-
fer, and he was away two days and
nights. But. bless your heart. he was
jist as true as steel to her all the time
he was away. But whether she got
miffed or not / don't know. or whether
it was due to an order of the yardmas-
ter l can't tell, but the fack is that
when No. 179 got back from Butler,
pull open my firebox if he didn't find
that cow-gine stalled in the roundhouse
between two great big whOpping new
bull-gines. When he see that he got so
blazing red about the firebox that the
stoker was afraid he'd blow up. Then
he give a kind of inquiring toot on his
whistle, but the cow-gine never so
much as give look his way. That was
more'n he could stan. They had got
him on to the turnta BILE. and was just
about to run him into the roundhouse
right next to a broken-down freighter,
and away to the other end of the
roundhouse from his cOw-gine, when he
lets out one unearthly screech with
his escapes, and with the steam pour
ing uuten him from every valve. he
backs off and starts gim-fang up the
track. Away he goes like lightning,
sir, yelling through the tunnels, clang-
ing his bell and letting out his whistle
like n mad thing. Then when he come