Freeland Tribune

RIDING ON THE IRON HORSE.

"Did you ever ride on a locomotive?" asked O. G. Haskins. "I tried it once and have no desire to repeat the experiment. It was out in Colorado, where you sometimes run so close to bottomless chasms that you could drop your hat into them, and make turns so short and sudden that it nearly disjoints your spinal vertebrae. The master mechanic was an old friend of mine and gave me permission to ride over the road on the engine of the lightning express. The engineer did not appear to fancy my presence much, but treated me civilly. We were behind time, the night was black as Erebus, and a terrific thunderstorm was raging. The engineer was determined to go in on time, and the way he rushed around those curves and across canyons was enough to make a man's hair turn gray.

"The peculiar thing about these mountain engines is that they do not take a curve like any other vehicle. They go plunging straight ahead until you feel sure that they are clear of the track and suspended in midair, and then shoot around and leave you to wonder by what miracle you have been saved. The trucks take the curve in the orthodox manner, but the superstructure is so arranged that it consumes more time in making the turn. With the lightning playing about the mountain peaks and half disclosing the frightful gorges and swollen torrents, the great iron leviathan swaying and plunging along that slippery, serpentine track, I first realized the perils of railway travel and the responsibility of the sullen man who kept his hand on the throttle and his eye on the track. I stood with my heart in my throat, admiring his nerve, but not envying him his job. At the first stop I clambered back into the coach and staid there."—St. Louis Globe-Democrat.