(x) Fireflies And Gunfire

entitled T-Cattle Number 4630. That's a real locomotive, eh?

Oh, a real engineer, eh? Ha ha ha. Is that what you call that mobile fuse box of yours with its metal coat angle top? Ha ha ha. What kind of pleasure do you get driving that thing?

Clicking over switches and all that. That's the thing, doesn't even sound like an engine. It does a job down the fence, did I, Covers? It will not be long now for the whole country, the lecture part.

Then you can retire that tea kettle, yours and stop polluting the air. Ah, Frank. They'll never without all 4630. There isn't a gradient that I think in that this brute couldn't fool a freight trainer.

Listen, man, once I've got steam up, I could take it from you to Kyle. With or with a railway line, eh, Couvin'? Ah, man, Frank, wasn't. Take your little spinning dynamo away and let a real engine get on to his workman.

See ya later, Couvin'. Our guess is right, Mr. Perivi. These old steam engines are just about finished. And they never let us take any trains in any decent journey. Just something about the marshaling yard.

That's all we ever do. Erry, hey, stop your moaning. You'll get your chance someday when they give your engine. And then you can make your own choice. As for me? Oh, man. I'll speak with the old teak at number 46 study until I retire.

And, little young man, take the oil can give those driving shafts a bit of juice. And put your coat on unless you want to get soaked in the rain. And rain, I'm sick of it.