HOW THE FIRING WAS DONE.
The fireman’s part of the work of getting the train over the road was no less skillfully done than that of the engineer. During the first seven miles of the trip, he did nothing for the fire other than crack up some coal-lumps. All the coal burned was broken down to pieces about the size of two bricks. When he seemed to think the proper time had come, he glanced at the fire, then threw in one shovelful of coal. To pitch coal upon the right spot in a fire-box ten feet long, requires considerable skill when the engine is swinging at a mile-a-minute speed; but this youth seemed equal to the task. He did not pile in a load of coal, and then climb up into the cab, to wait for it to burn, as is the practice of the poor fireman. After he began to fire, he kept at it. About every two minutes he got in a shovelful of coal. When the engine was working hard getting into speed, he varied his intervals of firing; but he worked on a system, which was to keep up the body of fire, and maintain the temperature as nearly even as possible. He followed scientific methods, whether he understood any thing about science or not. He never hesitated about the spot where the coal was going, but pitched it in, and closed the door quickly, waiting till the turn for the next installment came round. By this means the steam never felt the chilling effect that results from heavy-charge firing. The steam-gauge index kept pointing at 135 as steadily as if it had been fastened there. About eight miles from Philadelphia the fireman stopped putting in coal, and in the remainder of the run he several times used the hoe to level the fire.
When we stopped at the station, about four inches of glowing cinders covered the grates.