Mickey sprung a half dozen feet backward, and
would have run off at full speed down the ravine, had not Ethan
Hopkins caught his arm.
'What's the matter, Mickey, naow! Hain't you ever heard anything like
a locomotive whistle?'
'Worrah, worrah, now, but is that the way the crather blows its nose?
It must have a beautiful voice when it shnores at night.'
Perhaps at this point a description of the singular mechanism should
be given. It was about ten feet in hight, measuring to the top of the
'stove-pipe hat,' which was fashioned after the common order of felt
coverings, with a broad brim, all painted a shiny black. The face was
made of iron, painted a black color, with a pair of fearful eves, and
a tremendous grinning mouth. A whistle-like contrivance was trade to
answer for the nose. The steam chest proper and boiler, were where the
chest in a human being is generally supposed to be, extending also
into a large knapsack arrangement over the shoulders and back. A pair
of arms, like projections, held the shafts, and the broad flat feet
were covered with sharp spikes, as though he were the monarch of
base-ball players. The legs were quite long, and the step was natural,
except when running, at which time, the bolt uprightness in the figure
showed different from a human being.
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