ON AN EXPRESS ENGINE.

Timaru Herald, Volume XLI, Issue 3274, 25 March 1885, Page 3

ON AN EXPRESS ENGINE.

(Saturday Beview.) It is a somewhat unpromising morning the river is dark with fog and the huge arch of the Btation nearly hidden by mist and steam. A cold, damp wind makes the passengers hurry into the carriages, and strikes us sharply as we step on to the foot-plate of the engine which has just joined the train. But aa wo get behind the shelter of the screen we feel a generous and slightly unctuous sensation of warmth very comforting to a chilly man. The brasswork of the engine shines brilliantly, the footboard has been newly scrubbed, and the driver 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 m the gauge-glass is juat where it ought to be ; m fact, the engine is m 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 look-out for signalD 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 he 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 m 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, tb expand the steam hy 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 itp work. It ia pleaisant from our seat m 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 ahout 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 boats 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 Bea-bird. But now there are signs bf increased activity on the foot-plate ; the stoker is busy controlling the feed of water to the boiler, and fires at more frequent intervals ; the driver's hand moves oftener as he coaxes and encourages the engine along the road, the slightest gesture betraying the utmost tension of eye and ear ; the stations, instead of echoing a long sullen roar as we go through them, flash past us with a sudden rattle, and the engine surges down the line, the train following with hot haste m its wake. We are m a cutting, and the noise ia deafening. Looking ahead, we see an | apparently impenetrable wall before us. Suddenly the whistle is opened, and we are m one of the longest tunnels m England. The effect produced is the opposite of that with which we are familiar iv a railway-carriage, for the change is one from darkness to light rather than from light to darkness. The front of the firebox, foot-plate, and the tender, which had been rather hazily perceived m the whirl of surrounding objects, now strike sharply on the eye, lit up by the blaze from the fire, whilst overhead we see a glorious canopy of ruddy-glowing steam. The speed is great, and the flames m the fire-box boil up and form eddies like water at the doors of an opening lock. Far ahead we see a white speck, which increases m size till the fierce light from the fire pales, and we are once more m open day. The weather has lifted, the Bky is gray, but there is no longer any appearance of mist. The hills on the horizon stand out sharply, and seem to keep pace with us as the miles slip past. The lino is clear ; but there is an important junction not far distant, and we slacken speed, to ensure a prompt pull-up should we find ah adverse signal. The junction signals are soon sighted ; neither caution nor danger is indicated ; and, once clear of the station, we steam ahead aa fast as ever. One peculiarity of the view of the line ahead strikes us. Looking at i a railroad line from a field or neighbort ing highway, even where the rails are laid i on a Bteep incline, the rise and fall of the » road is not very strikingly apparent. Seen [ through the weather-glass, the track appears to be laid up hill and down dale, L like a path on the downs above high cliffs. ' Oyer it all we advance, the engine labor- ' ing and puffing on one or two heavy gradients, m spite of a full supply of 5 steam, or tearing down the incline with hardly any, or none at all and the break on. In the meantime the character of the country we travel through has changed. It has become more open, and there is a stiff sea-bi'eeze, which makea itself distinctly felt through the rush of air produced by '. the speed at which we are going. Sud--3 denly we plunge into a series of amall i chalk-cuttiugs, and on emerging from [ them find ourselves parallel with a grand [ line of downs. We speed by a curve or i two and find ourselves on tho seashore ; 1 one more tunnel, and with steam off, we • go soberly into the last station. But 3 there ia one step more. The breeze blows

about our ears. Before us the rails are wet, for the sea swept over them not many hours since, and to accomplish the last few yards of our journey the lever controlling the sand-box must be used liberally to prevent slipping ; the signal is given, and at a walking pace we make our way to where the steamer is awaiting us. A gentle application of the brake pulls us up, and the journey is over. It is difficult to realise as the engine Btands quietly under the lee of the pier while the driver examines the machinery, and the fire, burned low, throws out a gentle warmth as we stand before it, that half an hour ago we were tearing along the line at full speed, while the footplate that is now so pleasant to lounge on throbbed beneath us.

The Bad and Worthless aro nover imitated or counterfeited. This is especially true of a family medicine, and it is positive proof that tho remedy imitated is of the highest value. As soon as it had been tested and proved by the whole world that Hop Bitters was the purest, best and most valuable family medicine on earth, many imitations sprung up and began to steal tho notices m which the press and tho people of tho country had expressed the merits of H. 8., and m every way trying to induco suffciing invalids to use their stuff instead, expecting to mako money on tho credit and good name of H. B. Many others started nostrums put up m similar stylo to H. 8., with variously devised names m which the word " Hop " or " Hops " were used m a way to induce people to believe they were tho samo as Hop Bitters. All such pretended remedies or cures, no matter what their style or namo is, and especially thoso with the word " Hop " or " Hops " m their name or m any way connected with them or their name, are imitations or counterfeits. Bewaro of them. Touch none of them. Use nothing but genuino American Hop Bitters, with a cluster of green Hops on tho whito label, and Dr Soule's name blown m tho glass. Trust nothing elso. $^° Druggists and Chemists arc warned against dealing m imitations or counterfeits. — [Advt.]