HOW THEY PLAY THE PIANO IN NEW ORLEANS.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3858, 28 November 1883, Page 4

HOW THEY PLAY THE PIANO IN NEW ORLEANS.

"I AA'as loafing around the streets last night," said Jem Nelson, one of the oldest locomotivo engineers running into New Orleans, " and as I. had nothing to do, I dropped into a concert and hoard a slicklooking Frenchman play a piano in a Avay that made mo feel all over in spots. As soon as ho sat doAvn on tho stool I know by the Avay ho handled himself that ho understood the machine he was running. He tapped tho keys Avay up one end, just as if they Avero gauges and he Avantcd to see if ho had water enough. Then ho looked up, as if he wanted to Iciioav hoAV much steam ho Avas carrying, and the next moment he pulled open the throttle and sailed out on tho main lino as if ho Avas half an hour lato. You could hear her thunder over culverts and bridges, and getting faster and faster, until tlic fellow rocked about in his neat like it cradle. SomehoAv I thought it ayrs old ' 3G ' pulling a passenger train, aud getting out of the Avay of a ' special.' The fellow Avorked tho keys ou tho middle division liko lightning, and then ho Hew along tho north end of the lino until the drivers went round liko a buzz-saAV, and I got excited. About tlie timo I Avas trying to tell him to cut her oft' a little, ho kicked the

dampers under the machine wide open, pulled the throttle valve way back in the tender, and—Jerusalem—how ho did run. I couldn't stand it any longer, and yelled to him that he was pounding on the left side, and if he Avasn't careful he'd drop his ash-pan. But he did not hear. No ono heard me. EA'crything was flying and whizzing. Telegraph poles on the sido of tho track looked like cornstalks, tho trees appeared to be a mud bank, and all the time the exhaust of the old machine sounded like the hum of a bumble bco. I tried to yell out, but my touguo Avould not move. He went round curves like a bullet, slipped an eccentric, blew out his soft plug, went down grades fifty feet to the mile, and not a confounded brake set. She went by the meetingpoint at a mile and a half a minute, and calling for more steam. My hair stood up like a cat's tail, because I knew the game was up. Sure enough, dead ahead of us was the tail light of the 'special.' In a daze I heard the crash as they struck, and I saw caw shivered into atoms, people mashed, and mangled, and bleeding, and gasping for water. I heard another crash as the French professor struck tho deep keys aAvay doAvn on the lower end of the southern division, and then I came to my senses. There he was at a dead standstill, Avith the door of the fire-box of the machine open, Avipingthe perspiration off his face, and boAving at tho people before him. If I live to be a thousand years old, I'll never forget the ride that Frenchman gave me on the piano.''