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Updated: May 25, 2025
Two years ago last Christmas your uncle Silas was coming up from Newrleans on the old Lally Rook, and she blowed out a cylinder-head and crippled a man. And I think he died afterwards. He was a Baptist. Your uncle Silas knowed a family in Baton Rouge that knowed his people very well. Yes, I remember now, he DID die. Mortification set in, and they had to amputate him. But it didn't save him.
And I explained all about how we blowed out a cylinder-head at the mouth of White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, and worked first-rate; because THEY didn't know but what it would take three days to fix it. If I'd a called it a bolthead it would a done just as well. Now I was feeling pretty comfortable all down one side, and pretty uncomfortable all up the other.
I see I'd got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the one we got aground on or Now I struck an idea, and fetched it out: "It warn't the grounding that didn't keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head." "Good gracious! anybody hurt?" "No'm. Killed a nigger." "Well, it's lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt.
Now if you'll take and remove that cylinder-head, pull out the piston, and " The voice of the expounder was suddenly drowned out by the earsplitting rapid-fire of the exhaust! The miracle had happened! Hooray! I grasped the steering cords and jammed her rudder hard to port. Her fourteen-inch screw, suddenly started at full speed ahead, made the light, slim craft leap like a spike-spurred horse.
That iron plate which you see is the manhole cover of the tube, as it were it corresponds, of course, to the cylinder-head on an engine." As the novelist puts it, I stood aghast.
The cylinder is 10-inch bore, and 14-inch stroke; steam chest extends enough beyond the ends of the cylinder so that the steam travels only 21/2 inches, the shortest distance possible, after leaving the valve before it reaches the piston-head, and the space between the piston-head and cylinder-head is only one-fourth of an inch, the bolt heads being counter-sunk until even.
And I explained all about how we blowed out a cylinder-head at the mouth of White River, and it took us three days to fix it. Which was all right, and worked first-rate; because THEY didn't know but what it would take three days to fix it. If I'd a called it a bolthead it would a done just as well. Now I was feeling pretty comfortable all down one side, and pretty uncomfortable all up the other.
Saying which, he clips the end off of a fat black perfecto, lights up, and tackles the mornin' mail. It was a case of local thunderstorms on the seventeenth floor of the Corrugated Trust Building. To state it simpler, Old Hickory was runnin' a neck temperature of 210 or so, and there was no tellin' what minute he might fuse a collar-button or blow out a cylinder-head.
I see I'd got to invent a bar, or forget the name of the one we got aground on or Now I struck an idea, and fetched it out: "It warn't the grounding that didn't keep us back but a little. We blowed out a cylinder-head." "Good gracious! anybody hurt?" "No'm. Killed a nigger." "Well, it's lucky; because sometimes people do get hurt.
For a moment I didn't quite catch the significance; then I faltered with sudden weakness: "Hawkins, you said that this plate corresponded to the cylinder-head of an engine? Then the tube beneath us is full of steam?" "Yes, yes!" "And if we get too much steam as we seem to be getting it will the plate blow off?" "Yes no yes no, of course not," answered Hawkins faintly. "It's bolted down with "
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