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The engine was soon crowded and began to steam homewards a mournful, sorely battered locomotive with the woodwork of the firebox in flames and the water spouting from its pierced tanks. The infantrymen straggled along beside it at the double. Seeing the engine escaping the Boers increased their fire, and the troops, hitherto somewhat protected by the iron trucks, began to suffer.

He blew out the lantern and they sat there in the darkness, their faces lit from below by the flickering glow from the firebox, while the tension mounted. There was no way to measure time since each second took an eternity to drag by.

In the opposite corner stood two short-handled shovels and a miner's pick, while on the wall just above the fireplace hung the head of a great buck that had one time roamed those very hills. The fireplace, which occupied the center of the east wall, was large and very attractive. An old hand-made crane had been built into the firebox, and from it hung an old iron pot.

You go in, lock the door of course, then open a couple of valves until the fuel drips into the firebox, then you light it. Maybe you have a pressure gauge, or maybe you just wait until the safety valve pops to tell you if you have a head of steam. Which can be dangerous since a sticking valve could blow the whole works right over the mountain.

This lifeless engine, this cold engine with its empty firebox and its silent boiler, was like the very soul of the departed labour vainly awaiting the advent of some great charitable heart, whose coming through the eglantine and the brambles would awaken this sleeping church in the wood from its heavy slumber of ruin.

He spread this on the ground underneath the roller, and curled up in it. The glow from the firebox kept him warm and dry. "Summer is over," he said to himself, as he heard the clash and spouting of rain all about him. He lay for some time, not sleepy, thinking theology, and enjoying the close tumult of wind and weather.

Monroe's hair was in some disorder, and a streak of black from the stove lay across one of her lean, greasy wrists. The big stove was cooling now, ashes drifted from the firebox door, and an enormous saucepan of slowly cooking beans gave forth a fresh, unpleasant odour. At all the windows the fog pressed softly. "Are you going down town, Sally?" the mother asked. "Well I thought we would.

But the stones of the firebox, or furnace, were loose. On one side they extended out in a rough platform that held the water-cooled vat of the condensation worm. From the two-foot space between the furnace hole and the vat Lennon began to pull out the stones. He was able to make a hole down to the solid stone floor.

To prevent the stove from wearing out rapidly, the firebox, in which the fuel is burned, is lined with a material, such as fireclay, that will withstand great heat. The fire in the firebox is supported by the grate, which is in the form of metal teeth or bars, so as to permit air to pass through the fuel from underneath.

After years of experience shoveling coal into a firebox and monkeying around these old grease pots, I suppose I might get an engineer's certificate. Then what would I be?