The car, having such a light load, frisked and kicked, and made merry of a journey that to us was becoming very grave.

Going round a sharp curve at break-neck speed, we felt inclined to suggest to the conductor that it would make no especial difference if we did not get to Dayton till a quarter to ten.

The night was cold, and the hard ground thundered and cracked.

The bridges, instead of roaring, as is their wont, had no time to give any more than a grunt as we struck them and passed on.
At times it was so rough we were in doubt as to whether we were on the track or taking a short cut across the field to get to our destination a little sooner.

The flagmen would hastily open their windows and look at the screeching train.