Ed was as black as a negro,
and swearing about coal-burners in general and this one in particular,
and made so much noise with his fire-irons after we started, that the
old man came over and sat behind me, so as to be able to talk.
The first time I looked around after getting out of the yard, I noticed
his long slim hand on the top of the reverse-lever. Did you ever notice
how it seems to make an ex-engineer feel better and more satisfied to
get his hand on the reverse-lever and feel the life-throbs of the great
giant under him? Why, his hand goes there by instinct--just as an
ambulance surgeon will feel for the heart of the boy with a broken leg.
I asked the stranger to "give her a whirl," and noticed with what eager
joy he took hold of her. I also observed with surprise that he seemed to
know all about "four-mile hill," where most new men got stuck. He caught
me looking at his face, and touching the scar, remarked: "A little love
pat, with the compliments of Wade Hampton's men." We talked on a good
many subjects, and got pretty well acquainted before we were over the
division, but at last we seemed talked out.
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