nd perhaps fifty human beings into
eternity, besides maiming for life two or three times as many more. He
knows, too, that not only is he responsible for the safety of the men,
women and children who are riding behind him, but also for the occupants
of other trains on the same track. He knows exactly where he must run on
to a side track to allow the express in the other direction to pass, and
he knows just where he must slacken speed in order to get safely around
a dangerous curve, or cross a bridge which is undergoing repairs, or
which is not quite as substantial as it would be if he, instead of
millionaire railroad directors, had the control of the bridge
construction and repair fund.

To catch an idea of the responsibility of a locomotive engineer, it is
necessary to ride a hundred miles or so in an engine. The author was
given this privilege on a bleak, frosty day, early last winter. He was
told by the officials that he took the ride at his own risk, and as a
matter of personal favor, and that he must not interfere with the
engineer or fireman in the execution of their duties. The guest was
received kindly by both engineer and fireman, and was given a seat
whence he could see along expanse of track over which the locomotive had
to draw the train of cars. To a novice the sensation of a first ride on
a locomotive is a very singular one, and to say that there is no tinge
of fear intermingled with the excitement and pleasure, would be to make
a statement not borne out by fact. On the occasion referred to, the
train was a special one, carrying a delegation half way across the
continent. It was about fifteen minutes late, and in order to make the
run to the next division point it was necessary to maintain an average
speed of more than forty-five miles an hour. As is almost always the
case, when there is need for exceptional hurry, all sorts of trifling
delays occurred, and several precious minutes were wasted before a start
could be made.

Finally, the conductor gives the necessary word, the engineer pulls the
lever, and the irregular passenger finds for the first time in his life
how much more difficult it is to start a locomotive than he ever
imagined.

First, there is a distinct tremble on the huge locomotive. Then there
comes a loud hiss, with a heavy escape of steam, as the huge pistons tug
and pull at the heavy wheels, which slip round and round and fail to
grip the rail. Then, as gradually scientific power overc