“I’ll moind,” said Frank.
“Now, will ye be afther havin’ the extrame nateness of showin’ me how in the name of the seven wondhers of the worruld ye mane to make that conthrivance thravel loike a harse?”
“Certainly,” said Frank, approaching the invention with a great deal of pardonable pride. “You can see very plainly that the machine is in every respect similar to a horse.”
“I moind that same.”
“Then I will begin with the information necessary to make you understand how the old thing works,” said Frank. “In the first place this copper belly is nothing more nor less than a well-tested, strongly-made boiler, occupying the greater part of the distance between the fore legs and hind ones; this gives room to the steam-chest proper and boiler, and they extend into the haunches. Understand?”
“Oh, yis, I can philosophize an’ so forth,” said McSpalten, sitting on a wooden bench and looking as wise as an owl.
“Then here, almost on the top of the horse’s haunches,” said Frank, “are the valves, by means of which I can at any time examine either the water or the steam, and regulate accordingly. Forward of this is the place where my fire burns, the door of the furnace being in the chest, as you can see. Flues running up through the animal’s head will allow the smoke to pass out of his ears, while similar pipes will carry the steam out of the horse’s nose.”
“Musha! musha! did yez iver hear the bate o’ that?” murmured Patrick.
“In the head,” continued Frank, “I have arranged a clock-work contrivance that will feed coils of magnesium wire as fast as it burns to the flame of a small lamp that is set between a polished reflector and the glass that forms each eye. I shall thus have a powerful light at night time, and on the level plains shall be able to see very clearly one mile ahead, if the night was just as black as a piece of coal.”
“Worra! worra!” gasped McSpalten. “Me head is turnin’ round. Go on, me gossoon.”