A FAST RIDE.

Wairarapa Daily Times, Volume 5, Issue 1377, 12 May 1883, Page 4

A FAST RIDE.

[Once a year the governor of every . State in tho Union sends a message to tlio legislature. It generally occupies four or live columns of the japera noxt • day, but nobody ov?r reads it except the proof reade:., Yofc ;the papers must have it. When Mr Chas; B. Lewis, the celebrated M. Quad, was a legislative reporter for the Free Press something went wrong with' the ; wires and ho found it impossible to telegraph the governor's message. He accordingly hired an engine and rode against time to meet the lightning express for Detroit. Of coium the railway in those days had not the smoothness of the English roads, aud tho speed was then something. unprecedented. Hore follows I.' Quad's description of his rido taken: from an old number of the Detroit Free Press.] Z-z-z-z-z-zl A. monster of iron, steel, and brass, standing on the slim, iron rails which shoot away from the station for half a mile and then lose themselves in the green forest. 'Puff-puff I The driving-wheelt slowly turn, the monster breathes great clouds of steam and seems anxious foi tho race. A grizzly-haired engineer looks down from the cab-window, while, hii fireman pulls hack the iron door- and heaves in more wood—more breatl and muscle for the grim giant of tin track. The fire roars and crackles, th< steam hisses and growls, every breatl is drawn as fiercely as if the gian was burning to revenge an insult. : Up—up—up! The pointer on tin steam gauge moves faster than tin minute-hand on a,cloek. The breath ing becomes louder, the hiss .rises to i scream., the iron rails tremble ant quiver. •Climb up!' It is going to be a race agains time and the telegraph. 'S-s-s-s-h!' The engineer rose up, looked ahead glanced at the dial, and as his finger! clasped the throttle he asked tin station-agent: ' Arc you sure the track is clear f 'All clear hvas the answer: The throttle feels the pull, the gian' utters a fierce scream, and we are off I on tho fireman's seat, the fireman or the wood, The rails slide under ui slowly—faster, and the giant scream: again and dashes into the forest This isn't fast. The telegraph polei dance past as if not over thirty fee apart, and the board fence seems ti rise from the ground, but it's onl) thirty-five miles an hour. 'Wood!' The engineer takes his eyes off th track and turns just long enough to Bpeak the word to his fireman. Tin iron door swings back, and there is ai awful rush and roar of flame, Th fire-box appears full, but stick afte stick is dropped into the roaring pi until a quarter of a cord has disap peared, ' This forty miles an hour,' shout the fireman in my ear as he rubs th moisture off his heated face. Yes, this is faster. The fence-post seem to leap from the the ground, a we dash along, and the telegraph pole bend and nod to us. A house—a fieh —a farm—we get but one glance. 1 dozen houses—a hundred' faces—tha was a station. We heard a yell fror the crowd, but it had scarcely reach'ei us before it was drowned in the'grea roar. Nine miles in fourteen minutes •we've lost time. The engineer take his eyes from the rail, makes a motioi to his fireman, and the sticks drop inti the roaring flames again, to make nev flames. Seven miles of clear track now, am the engineer smiles a grim smile as hi lets more steam into the giant's lungs Ah! Not a mile a minute yet, bu how we shake from side to side—hov the tender leaps and bounds. Is then a fence skirting the track ? There is i dark line keeping pace with us; roaj be a fence. Where are the telegrapl poles ] Where are all those trees falling towards the track as we dashed through the bit of forest? A yell—houses—faces—that wai another station. Word has gone dowr the line that a " wild" locomotive i! rushing a journalist across the country to catch the lightning express or another road, and the people gather t< see us dash past. Seven miles in eight and a half minutes; that's better, but we must run faster. The finger on the dial creeps slowlj up-we want a reserve of : steam foi the last twelve of road—the best tracl of all. ' The noise is deafening—the swaying and bumping is terrible. I han{ fast to the seat—clutch, cling, and ye it seems as if I must be shaken to tin floor. Every moment there is a screan from tlie whistle. Every two or three minutes the engineer makes a gssturi which calls for the iron door to bt opened and the roaring, leaping flames to be fed anew, Houses—faces a yell—that was station. We made the lasl five miles in six minutes,- Did you ever ride a mile in one minute and /twelve seconds 1 But we were to beat Jit, ■ / Like a bird, like an arrow, like a / bullet almost, we speed forward. Hall f a dozen men beside the track—seotion men with their hand-car. They lift their hats and yell, but their voices do not reach it. We passed them as lightning flashes through the heavens. There was a farmhouse. We saw nothing but V white object, a green spot, two or three apple tre.es where there was a large orchard. Scream, hiss, roar, shako, quiver, bound I We are going to stop: going to halt for an instant at, a station to see if the track is clear for the rush-fora mile a minute and faster. Scream! Scream I The station is a mile ahead I it is beside us, The fireman down with his oil-can, the engineer enterß the telegraph office. Both are back'in fifteen seconds. "■ ; ;;'■'■/■;:.' Twelve and a half milesto go- twelve minutes in which to make it.:. i 'We can do it, 1 said the'engineer. 1 Hold fast now, We have been running ; we are going to fly;'

I 'Good-bye. 1 - ■• • A s a mad horse runs, as an arrow is sent, as the : • cnyrio r * pigeon, flies, i 'i'Tes, this is a miio a minute, Fences INo j only abkok liivoliardly larger than my. ponoiU 'lVfiQUtiNoj'oniySonetroe, all merged into ono single treo which was ( out of sight in a flash. Fiolds? Yes 1 ;, ono broad. Hold broken for an instant by a highway—n gray tlivoad lying <jn; tlio ground,' ' I'! It is terrible, • If wo should leave the vails. If-lmt Mithink of it. ;Ho|d fast. i ',', ~ '..K /' ; " j Eight miles iiioight minutes, not ; a second! inoi'O'or less,': The lightning travels faster, So does a locomotive.' Four and a half miles to go; four minutes to make it. We must run 'a, miloovery lifty-threo'soconds. \ l . '•" t. : '•■ Scream, sway, tremble! j; ; One mile, Two. miles..—.■•■/: ■■**& \ ', -1 daro notopen-my 'eyes.7;'l"^ould nptJpok ahead on tholraok fopjlj tlio gold ever mined.' :: ; ; -.}.• r'-v* ■ i ;. Three miles. Can I;ever : lioar,agairi 1 Willi oyer get this deaf eipgibar Out .of my earsUVil] jheseeonds ever go by? Scrtam. ; '. ; ' The engineer shuts offisteam —the;fireman opejiimy eyes—we are at : the station.'. jTjie lightning express is' two'second! away. . ' I told you/ saysi the. ehgirieevi. 'and didn't Idoit f ■ ': ; ;;;:; He did it, but" he carried three lives in the palm of the, hand, that grasped the throttle. ; '; . ; ,•