With a lengthening trail[312] like a smoky pall,
Whose writhing folds envelope all.
“Stoke up!” shouts Bill, the engineer;
“We must rush this grade and the bottom clear
With a monstrous bulge, to pull up hill
T’other side—heavy train.” “All right, Bill!”
And the coal went in and the throttle out.
“Watch yo’ side the curve!” from Bill with a shout.
Adown the grade with open throttle
They swiftly glide as a flying shuttle—