All these things the engineer must bear in mind, and beside his jockey-like handling of his iron horse, he must watch for signals that flash by in an instant when he is going at full speed, and at the same time keep a sharp lookout ahead for obstructions on the track and for damaged roadbed.

The conductor has nothing to do with the mechanical running of the train, though he receives the orders and is, in a general way, responsible.  The passengers are his special care, and it is his business to see that their getting on and off is in accordance with their tickets.  He is responsible for their comfort also, and must be an animated information bureau, loaded with facts about every conceivable thing connected with travel.  The brakemen are his assistants, and stay with him to the end of the division; the engineer and fireman, with their engine, are cut off at the end of their division also.

The fastest train of a road is the pride of all its employees; all the trainmen aspire to a place on the flyer.  It never starts out on any run without the good wishes of the entire force, and it seldom puffs out of the train-shed and over the maze of rails in the yard without receiving the homage of those who happen to be within sight.  It is impossible to tell of all the things that enter into the running of a fast train, but as it flashes across States, intersects cities, thunders past humble stations, and whistles imperiously at crossings, it attracts the attention of all.  It is the spectacular thing that makes fame for the road, appears in large type in the newspapers, and makes havoc with the time-tables, while the steady-going passenger trains and labouring freights do the work and make the money.

[Illustration:  THIRTY YEARS’ ADVANCE IN LOCOMOTIVE BUILDING]

HOW AUTOMOBILES WORK

Every boy and almost every man has longed to ride on a locomotive, and has dreamed of holding the throttle-lever and of feeling the great machine move under him in answer to his will.  Many of us have protested vigorously that we wanted to become grimy, hard-working firemen for the sake of having to do with the “iron horse.”

It is this joy of control that comes to the driver of an automobile which is one of the motor-car’s chief attractions:  it is the longing of the boy to run a locomotive reproduced in the grown-up.

The ponderous, snorting, thundering locomotive, towering high above its steel road, seems far removed from the swift, crouching, almost noiseless motor-car, and yet the relationship is very close.  In fact, the automobile, which is but a locomotive that runs at will anywhere, is the father of the greater machine.

About the beginning of 1800, self-propelled vehicles steamed along the roads of Old England, carrying passengers safely, if not swiftly, and, strange to say, continued to run more or less successfully until prohibited by law from using the highways, because of their interference with the horse traffic.  Therefore the locomotive and the railroads throve at the expense of the automobile, and the permanent iron-bound right of way of the railroads left the highways to the horse.