Page 207 - The model orator, or, Young folks' speaker : containing the choicest recitations and readings from the best authors for schools, public entertainments, social gatherings, Sunday schools, etc. : including recitals in prose and verse ...
P. 207

I  held  my  watch  to  die  lam plight—
                                     Tun  minutes  behind  the  time!
                                   Lost in  the  slackened  motion
                                     Of the  up-grade'-;  heavy  climb;
                                   15i.ll  I  knew  the  miles  of the  Tjrairie
                                     Thai;  stretched  a  level track.
                                   So  I  touched the  gunge  of die  boilc?1
                                     And  pulled  the  lover  back.

                                   Over the  mils  a-gl earning,
                                     Thirty  an  hour,  or  so,
                                   The  engine  leaped  like a  demon,

                                     Breathing  a  llcry glow ;
                                   But  to  nie—  ahold  of  the  lever—

                                     II  so o mod  a  chi I cl  ahvav,
                                                              t'  T
                                   Trustful  and  always  ready
                                     M y  lightest  touch  to  obey.

                                   f  was  proud,  you  know,  of  my  engine.
                                     Holding it steady  that  night,
                                   And  my  eye  on  the  track  bclc-vc  us, '
                                     Ablaze  with  die  Drummond  light.
                                   We  neared  a  well-known  cobsji,
                                     Where  a  child  of  three  or foil/,
                                   As  the  up  train  passed,  oft  called  me,
                                     A   p’aying  aro.inci  the  door.

                                   M y hand  was  firm  on the  thro'tde
                                     A i  we  swept  around the  curve,
                                   When  something alar  in  the  shadow,
                                     Struck  fire through  every  nerve.
                                   1  sounded the  brakes,  and  crashing
                                     The  reverse  lever  down  in  dismay,
                                   Groaning  to  Heaven-— eighty  p<?ces
                                     Ahead  was  the  child  at its  play  !
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