Was it a whistle and when did they blow it? Steam was
bubbling out of a joint in a pipe right at her side; the hot water
dribbled on her dress once when she leaned too far over and she caught
the fireman grinning at her.

She laughed light-heartedly, taking a child-like joy out of this new
and thrilling experience. She could not help marvelling at the
unconcern with which these men attended to their work; they were
perfectly at home on this rolling engine.

Didn't it rock and jerk about, though? It was enough to tear out the
rails almost, it seemed to her, and her pulses quickened at the thought
that if anything should break! But it did not seem to, somehow.

The fireman's gloved hand seized the chain on the feed-door again and
jerked it open. She watched him toiling with his scoop, the white
glare beating upon the rugged lines of his face till it was a wonder he
could stand that fierce heat. There was a funny black smudge running
across his nose, and when he bent his back she saw that a buckle was
missing from his overalls and he had substituted a piece of coarse
twine. Was he married? If he was, why didn't his wife look after
those buckles? He worked hard enough to deserve to have little things
like that looked after for him. Why, she'd heard they even shovelled
as much as a whole ton of coal on a single trip!

The lurch of the engine as they swung around a curve drew her attention
to the track which was sweeping in upon them with dizzy continuity.
Out there, ahead of the big black body of the locomotive, the funneled
path of the headlight streamed away into the unknown. Far up the track
the white mile-boards on the poles caught it, ran toward them, flashed
at them and skipped out of sight behind. Tall weeds nodded in it as
they swept past. It poured out along the wet rails, which glistened in
the bright bath and let go only when the beam plunged away at a curve
and went exploring in the woods or rioted across a valley into panorama
on the other side.

Once a little rabbit sat in the middle of the track, staring the great
light in the eye with a fascination that threatened its life. The tiny
creature seemed to be paralyzed by the glare and they almost ran it
down before it tore away in sudden fright and its cotton-white tuft
vanished in the long grass.

But as the novelty of all this wore off, her mind reverted to the thing
that she was trying to do. The speeding engine, the flying track,
became