own the valley of the Tyne, past Wylam, through Newcastle, and
over the high bridge that our fireman's grandson, Robert, built in
later days. Few valleys are less attractive, and few seem less
likely to be the birthplace of epoch-making men.

Robert Stephenson, the father of our hero, was a fireman, earning
two shillings a day. He was sober and industrious, but as would be
expected, he never "got on." He was a good story-teller, and
transmitted to his children healthy bodies and clear heads. George
was the second of six children, and he was born June 9, 1781, during
our war for independence. His boyhood was uneventful enough. When
the weather was cold he was cooped up in their narrow home; he was
out of doors whenever the weather would permit. He played in the
street, ran errands, carried his father's dinner, and herded cows,
as soon as he was big enough, for four cents per day. At fourteen he
was assistant-fireman, earning twenty-five cents a day, and at
seventeen he was "plugman." He was thus in contact with much that
had been achieved in the way of building engines and transporting
materials on cars. But I must describe the engines then in use, and
explain what it was to be a "plugman."

The coal-mines were so deep that, in spite of the valleys, they
could be drained only by pumps, and it was often more difficult to
keep the water out than it was to lift the coal out. The
steam-engine was then in a very incomplete condition, and both
pumping-and lifting-engines were crude and clumsy affairs. To be
sure Watt, the mathematical instrument-maker, had invented the
double-acting steam-engine, but few had been manufactured, and those
in common use were "atmospheric" engines, known as "Newcomen's"
engines. A pumping-engine had a long, vertical cylinder, with
arrangements for admitting steam at the top. The weight of the
piston, piston-rod, and pump-rod, which ran down a shaft to the
lowest point in the mine, being balanced by a counter-weight on a
sort of well-sweep, the steam, admitted by hand, forced the piston
to the bottom of the cylinder. The steam was then shut off, and a
spray of water was turned on within the cylinder. This water
condensed the steam and reduced the pressure within to almost
nothing, so that the air pressure on the exterior face of the piston
(which amounted to over a ton for every square foot of surface)
drove the piston to the top of the cylinder, and lifted the full
length of the stroke a large