In the yard stands the locomotive. It is a masterpiece of the
mechanic’s art. Burnished and lubricated journals fit in boxes
and connecting-rods are welded to connection. Valves, pistons
and wheels are all ready for the harmonious interplay which
makes this mass of metal a thing of power. The twin rails beckon
it to be on its way; the machine itself pants impatiently;
impulsively sobs the pop-valve. But the locomotive waits, must
wait for the driver’s will. Not stoutest boiler or greatest head
of steam can draw the train until the man reveals his mind to
the locomotive.--T. C. MCCLELLAND.
(2028)