CHAPTER FOURTEEN.
WHICH IS TOO FULL OF VARIED MATTER TO BE BRIEFLY DESCRIBED.
Meanwhile let us fly through space with greater than railway speed andovertake the "Flying Dutchman."
It has got up full speed by this time. About one mile a minute--sixtymiles an hour! Sometimes it goes a little faster, sometimes a littleslower, according to the nature of the ground; for a railway is by nomeans a level-way, the ascents and descents being occasionally verysteep. Those who travel in the carriages form but a faint conception ofthe pace. To realise it to the full you must stand on the engine withJohn Marrot and Will Garvie. Houses, fields, trees, cattle, humanbeings, go by in wild confusion--they appear only to vanish. Wind isnot felt in the carriages. On the _Lightning_ you are in a gale. Itreminds one of a storm at sea. The noise, too, is terrific. We oncehad the good fortune to ride on the engine of the "Flying Dutchman," andon that occasion had resolved to converse with the driver, and tried it.As well might we have tried to converse amid the rattling of tenthousand tin kettles! John Marrot put his mouth to our ear and_roared_. We heard him faintly. We tried to shout to _him_; he shookhis head, put his hand to his ear, and his ear to our mouth.
"Does--it--not--injure--your--hearing?"
"No--sir--not--at--all. It's--worst--on--our--legs."
We subsided into silence and wonderment.
We had also resolved to take notes, and tried it. Egyptianhieroglyphics are not more comprehensible than the notes we took. Wemade a discovery, however, near the end of the journey--namely, that bybending the knees, and keeping so, writing became much more possible--ormuch less impossible! We learnt this from John, who had to fill up inpencil a sort of statement or report-ticket on the engine. It wasinteresting and curious to note the fact that of the sentences thuswritten, one word was pencilled in the grounds of the Earl of Edderline,the next opposite the mansion of Lord Soberly, the third in the midst ofLangly Moor, the fourth while crashing through the village of Efferby,and a full stop was added at the mouth of the great Ghostly Tunnel.Think of that, ye teachers of "penmanship in twelve lessons," and hideyour diminished heads.
John Marrot's engine, of which we have said much, and of which we meanto say still more, was not only a stupendous, but a complex creation.Its body consisted of above 5,400 pieces, all of which were almost asdelicately fashioned, and put together with as much care, as watch-work.It was a confirmed teetotaller, too. The morning draught which Johnhad given it before starting, to enable it to run its seventy-sevenmiles, was 800 gallons of cold water. He also gave it a good feed tobegin with, and laid in for its sustenance on the trip one ton of coals.Its power to act vigorously may be gathered from the fact that onemorning, some years before, John had got the fire up with unwontedrapidity, and no sooner had the minimum of steam necessary to move itbeen created, than it quietly advanced and passed out of its shedthrough a brick wall fourteen inches thick with as much ease as it wouldhave gone through a sheet of brown paper. This being its power whenstarting at what we may regard as a quiet walk, some conception may beformed of its capacity when flying down an incline at sixty-five milesan hour with a heavy train of carriages at its back. In suchcircumstances it would go through an ordinary house, train and all, as arifle-bullet would go through a cheese. It was an eight-wheeled engine,and the driving-wheels were eight feet in diameter. The cylinder waseighteen inches, with a piston of two feet stroke, and the total weightof engine and tender was fifty-three tons. The cost of this iron horsewith its tender was about 3000 pounds.
Having fairly started, John took his stand opposite his circular windowin the protecting screen or weather-board and kept a sharp look-outahead. Will Garvie kept an eye chiefly on the rear to note that all waswell in that direction. And much cause was there for caution! To rushthrough space at such a rate, even on a straight line and in clearweather, was trying enough, but when it is remembered that the day waswet, and that their course lay through sundry deep cuttings and tunnels,and round several curves where it was not possible to foreseeobstruction, the necessity for caution will be more apparent.
All went well, however, as usual. After clearing the first thirty-sixmiles John Marrot consulted his watch, and observed to Will that theyhad done it in thirty-eight and a half minutes. He then "put on aspurt," and went for some time at a higher rate of speed. Observingthat something at the head of the engine required looking after, WillGarvie went out along the side of it, and while doing this piece of workhis hair and jacket were blown straight back by the breeze which theengine had created for itself. He resembled, in fact, a sailor goingout to work on the sails in a stiff breeze.
This artificial breeze, sweeping round the sides of the screen, causedan eddy which sent up a cloud of coal-dust, but neither John nor hismate appeared to care for this. Their eyes were evidently coal-proof.
Presently they approached a canal over which they rushed, and, for onemoment, glanced down on the antipodal mode of locomotion--a boat goingthree miles an hour with its steersman half asleep and smoking at thehelm! Next moment they were passing under a bridge; the next over atown, and then rushed through a station, and it was interesting to noteas they did so, that the people on the platform shrank back and lookedhalf-terrified, although they were in no danger whatever, while those inthe train--who might at any moment have been hurled into eternity--looked calm and serene, evidently untroubled by thoughts of danger; sodifficult is it for man to realise his true condition in suchcircumstances. Just beyond the station a dog was observed to havestrayed on the line, and ran barking before the engine. It wasovertaken and passed in a few seconds, and Will looked over the side butsaw nothing of it. As no yell was heard, it is probable that the poorthing escaped. Soon after that, two navvies were observed walkingcoolly and slowly on the line in front of the engine. John frowned andlaid his hand on the whistle, but before it could sound, the recklessmen had heard the train, looked round with horrified faces, sprang likejumping-jacks off the line, right and left, and were gone!
Soon after this, on approaching the distant signal of one of thestations, they observed that the arms were extended, indicating that theline was "blocked"--that is, that another train being in advance theymust check speed or perhaps stop. This was a species of insult to the"Flying Dutchman," whose way ought to have been kept perfectly clear,for even a check of speed would inevitably cause the loss of severalminutes. With an indignant grumble John Marrot cut off steam, butimmediately the signals were lowered and he was allowed to go on.Again, in a few minutes, another signal checked him.
"They've let a train on before us," growled John, sternly, "and p'rapswe may be checked all the way to London--but some one shall hear ofthis, an' have to account for it."
John was wrong to some extent. While he yet spoke the signal to go onwas given, and a few minutes later the "Flying Dutchman" flashed pastthe obstructing train, which had been shunted on to a siding, and fromits windows hundreds of passengers were gazing at the express whichpassed them like a meteor--perhaps they were congratulating themselves,as well they might, for, but for the "block system," their danger wouldhave been tremendous; almost equal to that of a man endeavouring to runaway from a cannon-shot. This may be somewhat better understood when weexplain that the "Flying Dutchman" could not have been stopped in ashorter space than one mile and a half.
At length the iron horse came suddenly on an obstruction which filledits driver with deep anxiety and alarm. Daily had John driven thattrain, but never before had he met with a similar danger. At a levelcrossing, less than a mile in advance of him, he observed a horse and aloaded cart standing right across the line. Either the horse was arun-away, or the driver had left it for a little and it had strayed.Whatever the cause of its being there John's alert mind saw at once thata collision was inevitable. He shut off steam, and was about to whistlefor the guard to apply the brakes, while Will Garvie, who also saw thedanger, was already turning on the brakes of the tender.
John reflected t
hat it would be impossible to come to a stand within thespace that lay between him and the cart and that a partial concussionwould be almost certain to throw his engine off the rails. Less than aminute remained to him.
"Let her go, mate," he shouted quickly.
Will Garvie obeyed at once. John put on full steam, the "FlyingDutchman" leaped forward with increased velocity. Then followed aslight shock, and; next moment, the cart and horse were smashed toatoms--all but annihilated!
It was a great risk that had been run; but of two evils John Marrot hadchosen the less and came off in triumph with only a slight damage to hisbuffers.
Let us now quit the engine for a little, and, retracing our steps inregard to time, visit some of the carriages behind it.
When the "late passenger" recovered her breath and equanimity, and foundherself fairly on her journey, she unfolded her bundle of shawls anddisclosed a fat glossy lap-dog, which seemed to enjoy its return tofresh air and daylight, and acknowledged, with sundry wags of its tailand blinks of its eyes the complimentary assurance that it was the"dearest, sweetest, p'ittiest 'ittle darling that ever was born," andthat, "it wouldn't be allowed to pay a nasty fare to a mean railwaycompany that let all kinds of ugly parrots and cats and babies travelfree!"
A timid little lady, the only other occupant of the carriage, venturedto suggest that the dog travelling free was against the rules of thecompany.
"I am quite aware of that," said the late passenger somewhat sharply,"but if people choose to make unjust and oppressive rules I don't meanto submit to them. Just think of a parrot, a horrid shrieking creaturethat every one acknowledges to be a nuisance, being allowed to travelfree, or a baby, which is enough to drive one distracted when itsqualls, as it always does in a railway carriage, while my sweet littlepet that annoys nobody must be paid for, forsooth!"
"It does indeed seem unreasonable," responded the timid little old lady;"but don't you think that the company has a perfect right to makewhatever rules it pleases, and that we are bound to obey them when wemake use of their line?"
"No, I don't!" said the late passenger tartly.
The timid little lady thought it advisable to change the subject and didso by remarking that the dog was a very pretty creature. Upon which thelate passenger thawed at once, admitted that it _was_ a _very_ prettycreature, and asserted in addition that it was a "perfect darling."
Their conversation became miscellaneous and general after this point,and not worth reporting, therefore we shall get out at the window andpass along the foot-boards to the carriage occupied by Mrs Durby andher friends.
Immediately after the train had started, as before described, CaptainLee entered into an animated conversation with the nurse as to thehealth of the Tipps family. Edwin, who was much interested in them,listened and put in a word now and then, but neither he nor the captain,after the first glance, paid any attention to the other occupants of thecarnage.
Meanwhile Thomson, Jenkins and Company spent a short time in taking aquiet observation of the state of affairs. The former had placedhimself opposite to Edwin and eyed him over critically as a wrestlermight eye his opponent; Jenkins had seated himself opposite the captain,who had been apportioned to him in the coming conflict, and Smith, who,although a stout enough fellow, was the smallest of the three, kept hiseye on the coveted bag, and held himself in readiness to act as might beadvisable. The scoundrels were not long in taking action.
As soon as they were quite clear of the suburbs of Clatterby, Jenkinssuddenly hit Captain Lee a tremendous blow on the head, which was meantto fell him at once; but the captain's head was harder than he hadexpected it to be; he instantly grappled with Jenkins. Edwin'samazement did not prevent his prompt action; but at the moment he sprangto the rescue, he received a blow from Thomson, who leaped on him, andseized him by the throat with a vice-like gripe. At the same momentSmith also sprang upon him.
Thomson soon found that he had miscalculated young Gurwood's strength.Strong though his grasp was, Edwin's was stronger. Almost as quick asthought he threw his left arm round Thomson's waist, grasped his hairwith his right hand, and almost broke his back. There is no questionthat he would have overcome him in a few seconds if Smith had nothampered him. As it was, he disengaged his right arm for a moment and,hitting a familiar and oft-tried blow straight out from the shoulderplanted his knuckles just above the bridge of Smith's nose. He fell asif he had been shot but the momentary relief thus afforded to Thomsonenabled that scoundrel to get into a better position for continuing thestruggle. Meanwhile Jenkins, although bravely and stoutly opposed bythe veteran Lee, quickly rendered his adversary insensible, and at oncesprang upon Edwin, and turned the scale in favour of his comrade, who atthe moment was struggling in the youth's grasp with savage thoughunavailing ferocity. At the same time Smith, who had only been stunned,recovered, and seizing Edwin by the legs endeavoured to throw him down,so that it went hard with our young hero after that despite hisactivity, strength and courage.
During this scene, which was enacted in a very few minutes, poor MrsDurby sat drawn up into the remotest corner of the carriage, her facetransfixed with horror, and a terrific yell bursting occasionally fromher white lips. But neither the sound of her cries nor the noise of thedeadly struggle could overtop the clatter of the express train. Thosein the next compartment did indeed hear a little of it but they werepowerless to render assistance, and there was at that time no means ofcommunicating with the guard or driver. Poor Edwin thought of CaptainLee, who lay bleeding on the floor, and of Emma, and the power ofthought was so potential that in his great wrath he almost lifted thethree men in the air; but they clung to him like leeches, and it iscertain that they would have finally overcome him, had he not in one ofhis frantic struggles thrust his foot below one of the seats and kickedthe still slumbering Sam Natly on the nose!
That over-wrought but erring porter immediately awoke to theconsciousness of being oppressed with a sense of guilt and of being in avery strange and awkward position. Quickly perceiving, however, by thewild motion of the feet and an occasional scream from Mrs Durby, thatsomething serious was going on, he peeped out, saw at a glance howmatters stood, got to his feet in a moment, and dealt Jenkins such ablow on the back of the head that he dropped like a stone. To dealSmith two similar blows, with like result, was the work of two seconds.Thus freed, Edwin rose like a giant, crushed Thomson down into a seat,and twisted his neckcloth until his eyes began to glaze and his lips toturn blue.
Sam Natly was a man of cool self-possession.
Seeing that Edwin was more than a match for his adversary, he left him,and proceeded to attend to the captain, who showed symptoms of revival;but happening to glance again at Edwin, and observing the condition ofThomson, Sam turned and put his hand on the youth's arm.
"I think, sir," he said quietly, "it would be as well to leave enough ofhim to be hanged. Besides, it might be raither awkward, sir, to do JackKetch's dooty without the benefit of judge, jury, witnesses, or clergy."
Edwin released his hold at once, and Thomson raised himself in the seat,clenching his teeth and fists as he did so. He was one of those savagecreatures who, when roused, appear to go mad, and become utterlyregardless of consequences. While Sam was engaged in etemporising handcuffs for Jenkins and Smith out of a necktie and apocket-handkerchief, Thomson sat perfectly still, but breathed veryhard. He was only resting a little to recover strength, for in amoment, without a sound or warning of any kind, he hit Edwin with allhis force on the temple. Fortunately the youth saw the coming blow intime to partially give way to it, and in another moment the struggle wasrenewed, but terminated almost as quickly, for Edwin gave Thomson a blowthat stunned him and kept him quiet for the next quarter of an hour.
During this period Edwin examined Captain Lee's hurts, which turned outto be less severe than might have been expected. He also assisted Samto secure Thomson's wrists with a handkerchief, and then devoted sometime to soothing the agitated spirits of poor Mrs Durby, whose luc
klessshins had not escaped quite scatheless during the _melee_.
"Oh, sir," sobbed Mrs Durby, glancing with horror at the dishevelledand blood-stained prisoners, "I always thought railways was bad things,but I never, no I never, imagined they was as bad as this."
"But, my good woman," said Edwin, unable to restrain a smile, "railwaysare not all, nor always, as bad as this. We very seldom hear of such avillainous deed as has been attempted to-day; thanks to the energy andefficiency of their police establishments."
"Quite true, Gurward, quite true," said Captain Lee, glancing sternly atthe prisoners, and stanching a cut in his forehead with a handkerchiefas he spoke; "our police arrangements are improving daily, as scoundrelsshall find to their cost."
Jenkins and Smith did not raise their eyes, and Thomson continued tofrown steadily out at the window without moving a muscle.
"I'm sure I don't know nothink about your p'lice, an' what's more, Idon't care," said Mrs Durby; "all that I know is that railways isdreadful things, and if I was the Queen, which I'm not, I'd have 'em allput down by Acts of Parlingment, so I would. But never, never, never,--as long as I'm able to manidge my own--ah!"
Mrs Durby terminated here with one of her own appalling shrieks, for itwas at this precise moment that John Marrot happened, as alreadydescribed, to have occasion to knock a cart and horse to atoms. Theshock, as we have said, was very slight, nevertheless it was sufficientto overturn the poor nurse's nervous system, which had already beenwrought up to a high pitch of tension.
"That's _somethin'_ gone, sir," said Sam, touching his cap to CaptainLee.
"What is it, Edwin?" inquired the captain as the youth let down thewindow and looked out.
"I can see nothing," said Edwin, "except that the guard and fireman areboth looking back as if they wanted to see something on the line. Weare beginning to slow, however, being not far from the station now."
About a mile and three-quarters from the station, in the suburbs ofLondon, where the tickets were to be collected, John Marrot stopped thepulse of his iron horse, for so terrific was his speed that he was ableto run the greater part of that distance by means of the momentumalready acquired. By degrees the mighty engine began to "slow." Treesand houses instead of rushing madly past began to run hastily by, andthen to glide behind at a rate that was more in keeping with the dignityof their nature. From sixty miles an hour the train passed by a rapidtransition to ordinary express speed, then to ordinary speed, then totwenty miles an hour. Then Thomson felt that his opportunity had come.He suddenly wrenched his wrists from their fastening, leaped headforemost out of the window, fell on the embankment in a heap, and rolledto the bottom, where he lay extended on his back as if dead.
Thus much Mrs Durby saw in one horrified glance and then fainted deadaway, in which condition she remained, to the great anxiety and distressof Captain Lee, until the "Flying Dutchman," after doing seventy-eightmiles in one hour and a half, glided as softly up to the platform of thestation in the great Metropolis as if it were a modest young train whichhad yet to win its spurs, instead of being a tried veteran which haddone its best for many years past to annihilate space and time. But,after all, it resembled all other tried veterans in this respect.
Generally speaking, engine-drivers are little--far too little--thoughtof after a journey is over. Mankind is not prone to be wise ordiscriminating, in giving credit to whom credit is due. We "remember"waiters after having eaten a good dinner, but who, in any sense of theword, "remembers" the cook? So in like manner we think of railwayporters and guards at the end of our journeys, and talk of theircivility mayhap, but who thinks or talks of the driver and fireman asthey lean on the rails of their iron horse, wet and weary perchance--smoke and dust and soot begrimed for certain--and calmly watch thedeparture of the multitudes whom they have, by the exercise ofconsummate coolness, skill, and courage, brought through dangers andhairbreadth escapes that they neither knew nor dreamed of?
On this particular occasion, however, the tables were turned for once.The gentlemen in the train hurried to the guard to ask what had causedthe slight shock which they had felt. Joe Turner had been called asidefor a moment by a clerk, so they went direct to John Marrot himself, whomodestly related what had happened in a half apologetic tone, for he didnot feel quite sure that he had done the best in the circumstances. Hisadmiring audience had no doubt on the point, however.
"You're a brick, John!" exclaimed an enthusiastic commercial traveller.
"That's true," said another. "If we had more men like him, there wouldbe fewer accidents."
"Let's give him something," whispered a third.
The suggestion was eagerly acted on. A subscription was made on thespot, and in three minutes the sum of about ten pounds was thrust intoJohn's huge dirty hand by the enthusiastic commercial traveller. ButJohn firmly refused to take it.
"What's to be done with it, then?" demanded the traveller, "_I_ can'tkeep it, you know, and I'm not going to sit down here and spendhalf-an-hour in returning the money. If you don't take it John, I mustfling it under the engine or into the furnace."
"Well," said the driver, after a moment's consideration, while he closedhis hand on the money and thrust it into his breeches pocket, "I'll takeit. It will help to replace the cart we smashed, if I can find theowner."
While this was going on near the engine, the robbers were being removedfrom their carriage to receive the due reward of their deeds. Threetall and strong-boned men had been on the platform for some timeawaiting the arrival of the "Flying Dutchman." Swift though JohnMarrot's iron horse was, a swifter messenger had passed on the linebefore him. The electric spark--and a fast volatile, free-and-easy, yetfaithful spark it is--had been commissioned to do a little service thatday. Half-an-hour after the train had left Clatterby a detective,wholly unconnected with our friend Sharp, had called and sent a messageto London to have Thomson, Jenkins, and Smith apprehended, inconsequence of their connexion with a case of fraud which had beentraced to them. The three tall strong-boned men were there in virtue ofthis telegram. But, accustomed though these men were to surprisingincidents, they had scarcely expected to find that the three culpritshad added another to their many crimes, and that one of them had leapedout of the train and out of their clutches--in all probability out ofthe world altogether! Two of the strong men went off immediately insearch of him, or his remains, while the other put proper manacles onJenkins and Smith and carried them off in a cab.
Meanwhile Joe Turner saw that all the other passengers were gotcarefully out of the train. He was particularly polite in hisattentions, however, to the "late passenger!"
"You have forgot, ma'am," he said politely, "to give up yourdog-ticket."
"Dog-ticket!" exclaimed the lady, blushing; "what do you mean? I haveno dog-ticket."
"Not for the little poodle dog, ma'am, that you carry under your shawl?"
The lady blushed still deeper as she admitted that she had no ticket forthe dog, but said that she was quite willing to pay for it.
This having been done, her curiosity got the better of her shame athaving been "caught," and she asked--
"How did you know I had a dog with me, guard?"
"Ah, ma'am," replied Joe with a smile, "we've got a remarkablysharp-sighted police force on our line, besides the telegraph. We findthe telegraph very useful, I assure you, at times. The gentlemen whowere removed in handcuffs a few minutes ago were _also_ stopped in theirlittle game by the telegraph, ma'am."
The guard turned away to attend to some one else, and the latepassenger, blushing a still deeper scarlet to find that she was classedwith criminals, hurried away to reflect, it is to be hoped, on the factthat dishonesty has no variety in character--only in degree.
When the guard left the late passenger, he found that his assistance wasrequired to get Mrs Durby and her belongings out of the railwaycarriage and into a cab.
The poor nurse was in a pitiable state of mind. A railway journey hadalways been to her a thing of ho
rror. The reader may therefore formsome conception of what it was to her to have been thus suddenly calledaway from quiet suburban life to undertake not only a railway journey,but to be shut up with a gang of would-be murderers and encounter a sortof accident in addition! By the time she had reached London she hadbecome quite incapable of connected thought. Even the precious parcel,which at first had been an object of the deepest solicitude, wasforgotten; and although she had hugged it to her breast not two minutesbefore, she suffered it to drop under the seat as she was led from thetrain to the cab.
"Drive to the Clarendon," said Captain Lee, as he and Gurwood followedthe nurse into the cab; "we will take care of her," he added to Edwin,"till she is better able to take care of herself."
Mrs Durby gave vent to a hysterical sob of gratitude.
Arrived at the Clarendon they alighted, the captain paid the fare, andthe cab was dismissed. Just at that moment Mrs Durby became atemporary maniac. She shrieked, "Oh! my parcel!" and rushed towards thedoor.
The captain and waiter restrained her.
"It's in the cab!" she yelled with a fervour there was no resisting.
Edwin, comprehending the case, dashed down the steps and followed thecab; but he might as well have followed the proverbial needle in thehaystack. Hundreds of cabs, carts, busses, and waggons were passing theClarendon. He assaulted and stopped four wrong cabs, endured a deal ofchaff, and finally returned to the hotel discomfited.
Thus suddenly was Mrs Durby bereft of her treasure and thrown intoabject despair. While in this condition she partially unbosomed herselfto Captain Lee, and, contrary to strict orders, revealed all she knewabout the embarrassments of Mrs Tipps, carefully concealing, however,the nature of the contents of her lost parcel, and the real object ofher journey to London.
One more paragraph in regard to this eventful trip of the "FlyingDutchman" ere we have done with the subject.
Having finished his journey, John Marrot took his iron steed to thestable. Usually his day's work terminated at Clatterby; but, owing tothe horse being in need of extra rest he had to stop in London thatnight. And no wonder that the _Lightning_ was sometimes fatigued, foreven an ordinary express engine on the Grand National Trunk Railway waswont to run over 270 miles of ground in a day, at the rate of aboutforty-five miles an hour, and with a dead weight of 120 tons, more orless, at her tail. This she did regularly, with two "shed-days," ordays of rest, in the week for cleansing and slight repairs. Such anengine was considered to do good service if it ran 250 days in the year.But the engine of the "Flying Dutchman" was more highly favoured thanother engines--probably on the ground of the principle taught by theproverb, "It is the pace that kills." Its regular run was 1,544 milesin the day, and assuredly it stood in need of repose and refreshmentquite as much as ordinary horses do. Its joints had become relaxed withsevere labour, its bolts had been loosened, its rubbing surfaces,despite the oil poured so liberally on them by Will Garvie, had becomeheated. Some of them, unequally expanded, strained and twisted; itsgrate-bars and fire-box had become choked with "clinkers," and its tubescharged with coke.
John therefore ran it into the huge shed or stable prepared for thereception of twenty-four iron horses, and handed it over to a set ofcleaners or grooms. These immediately set to work; they cleaned out itsfire-box, scraped its grate-bars, tightened all its bolts and rivets,greased the moving parts, and thoroughly cleansed it, outside and in.Thus washed, cooled down, and purified, it was left to repose for fiveor six hours preparatory to a renewal of its giant energies on thefollowing day.
Although we have somewhat exalted our pet locomotive of the "FlyingDutchman," justice requires us to state that goods engines are moregigantic and powerful, though they are not required to run so fast.These engines are the heavy dray-horses of the line, express enginesbeing the racers. The latter can carry a _light_ _load_ of some seventyor ninety tons on a good roadway at the rate of fifty miles an hour orupwards. Goods engines of the most powerful class, on the other hand,run at a much slower pace, but they drag with ease a load of from 300 to350 tons, with which they can ascend steep gradients.
But whether light or heavy, strong or weak, all of them are subject tothe same laws. Though powerfully, they are delicately framed, and likeman himself, appear to be incapable of perfect action without obtainingat the least one day of rest in the week.