iver and stoker stand waiting for the
signal. The needle shows that the steam is just below the pressure at
which it would begin to blow off; the water in the gauge glass is just
where it ought to be; in fact, the engine is in perfect condition and
ready for a start. The line is clear, the guard's whistle is answered by
our own, and we glide almost imperceptibly past the last few yards of the
platform. The driver opens the regulator till he is answered by a few
sounding puffs from the funnel, and then stands on the lookout for
signals so numerous that one wonders how he can tell which of the many
waving arms is raised or lowered for his guidance.

So he goes on, with hand on regulator and lever, gradually admitting more
steam as signal after signal comes nearer and then flies past us, till at
last we are clear of the suburbs and find ourselves on a gentle incline
and a straight road, with the open fields on either side. It is now that
the real business of the journey begins. Locomotives are as sensitive and
have as many peculiarities as horses, and have to be as carefully studied
if you would ride them fast and far. The lever is put into the most
suitable notch for working the steam expansively; the driver's hand is on
the regulator, not to be removed for the rest of the trip; the furnace
door is thrown wide open, and firing begins in earnest. Here it may not
be amiss to state, for the benefit of the uninitiated, that the regulator
controls the supply of steam from the boiler, while the lever enables the
driver to reverse the engine, or, as we have already stated, to expand
the steam by cutting it off before the end of the stroke. The engine
answers to the appeal like a living thing, and seems, with its steady
beat and sonorous blast, to settle down to its work. It is pleasant from
our seat in the corner of the screen to see this preparation for the work
ahead--the absolute calm of driver and stoker, who exchange no word, but
go steadfastly and quietly about their business; to feel the vibrations
from the rails beneath throb through one with slowly increasing rapidity,
or watch the trees and houses go past as gulls flap past a boat. For
there is a certain apparent swagging movement of the objects past which
one travels which can only be likened to the peculiar flight of a large
sea-bird. But now there are signs of increased activity on the
foot-plate; the stoker is busy controlling the feed of water to the
boiler, and fi