One of these, the "Atlantic," on August 25, 1835, drew the first train into Washington amid the applause of President Andrew Jackson and a distinguished assemblage. This "grasshopper" locomotive was in use a generation later when it hauled the vanguard of Union soldiers to save the national capital in 1861. It developed a speed of 30 miles an hour which was regarded as suicidal in the early days of railroading. Although superannuated, the "Atlantic" is still in a good state of preservation and can be operated under its own power. The canal and railroad are no longer competitors. The bonds of the former company are held by the railroad. The canal is in operation during the season of navigation and more than 100 boats are engaged in providing low-priced transportation for coal from Cumberland to the seaboard. On the railroad "brigades of cars" are seen at intervals of a few minutes dashing along behind locomotives that weight more than twenty times that of the little old "Atlantic." [Illustration: "Atlantic" Engine--B. & O. 1832] VI. THROUGH the sultry afternoon of Wednesday, July 25th, "Sometub" ran for hours under the willows that fringe the Maryland meadows in Montgomery county. Across the river the Virginia shore presented an endless panorama of wooded hills that grew less rugged in their outlines as we proceeded down the stream. At sunset we were running through a marshy region and decided to keep on rather than invite malaria by spending the night on the border of a swamp. We were happy when, in the receding twilight, we espied the hills of Seneca creek and knew by consulting our topographical maps that we would have a more healthy mooring place. At Seneca a widewater covers about ten acres and under a big sycamore tree beside the little lake we tied "Sometub," preparing dinner on our "canned heat" range and serving it on our poncho which was spread on the soft, green turf. The dying embers of a campfire were visible across an arm of the lake and after dinner we went to pay a neighborly call. Beside the fire was a tiny "pup" tent supported by two canoe paddles. On our approach three young men greeted us. A week before, they told us, they had started out from their homes in Washington on a fishing trip up the river. In the Potomac the bass were not biting but the mosquitoes were and betwixt hope and desperation they had turned into the canal. Now they were having fairly good luck and were comfortable. Our new friends punctilously returned the call. One of the youths was the son of a naval officer and expressed much interest in "Sometub," and its unique cabin arrangement. We sat in the lantern light till midnight swapping motorboat experiences for fish stories. In this we had the better of the deal.