"It is not the Dr. Charles Darwin whom you have heard of; it was his grandfather," said Uncle Fritz. And Fanchon went on: "All I ever knew of 'The Botanic Garden' was in the quotations of our dear Harry and Lucy and Frank. But dear Uncle Fritz has taken down the book for me, and here it is, with its funny old pictures of Ladies' Slippers and such things." "I do not see what Ladies' Slippers have to do with steam-engines," said Bedford Long, scornfully. "No!" said Fanchon, laughing; "but I do, and that is the difference between you and me. Because, you see, I have read 'Harry and Lucy,' and you have not." And she opened "The Botanic Garden" at the place where she had put in a mark, and read:-- "Pressed by the ponderous air, the piston falls Resistless, sliding through its iron walls; Quick moves the balance beam of giant birth, Wields its large limbs, and nodding shakes the earth. The giant power, from earth's remotest caves Lifts, with strong arm, her dark reluctant waves, Each caverned rock and hidden depth explores, Drags her dark coals, and digs her shining ores." "That is rather stilted poetry," said Uncle Fritz, "but a hundred years ago people were used to stilted poetry. It describes sufficiently well the original pumping-engine of Watt, and the lifting of coal from the shafts of the deep English mines. Now, it was not till Watt had made his improvements on the pumping-engine,--say in 1788,--that it was possible to go any farther in the use of steam than its application to such absolutely stationary purposes. It is therefore, I think, a good deal to the credit of Dr. Darwin, that within three years after Watt's great improvement in the condensing-engine the Doctor should have written this:-- 'Soon shall thy arm, unconquered steam, afar Drag the slow barge or drive the rapid car.' It was twelve years after he wrote this, that Fulton had an experimental steamboat on the river Seine in France. It was sixteen years after, that, with one of Watt's own engines, Fulton drove the 'Clermont' from New York to Albany in thirty-six hours, and revolutionized the world in doing it. "Poor James Mackintosh was in virtual exile in Calcutta at that time, and he wrote this in his journal: 'A boat propelled by steam has gone a hundred and fifty miles upon the Hudson in thirty-six hours. Four miles an hour would bring Calcutta within a hundred days of London. Oh that we had lived a hundred years later!' In less than fifty years after Mackintosh wrote those words, Calcutta was within thirty days of London. "When Harry and Lucy read these verses in 1825, the 'rapid car' was still in the future." "Yes," said Fanchon; "but Harry says, 'The rapid car is to come, and I dare say that will be accomplished soon, papa; do not you think it will?'"