But from the time that George Stephenson was appointed fireman, and more particularly afterward as engine-man, he applied himself so assiduously and successfully to the study of the engine and its gearing--taking the machine to pieces in his leisure hours for the purpose of cleaning it and understanding its various parts--that he soon acquired a thorough practical knowledge of its construction and mode of working, and very rarely needed to call the engineer of the colliery to his aid. His engine became a sort of pet with him, and he was never wearied of watching and inspecting it with admiration. There is, indeed, a peculiar fascination about an engine to the person whose duty it is to watch and work it. It is almost sublime in its untiring industry and quiet power; capable of performing the most gigantic work, yet so docile that a child's hand may guide it. No wonder, therefore, that the workman who is the daily companion of this life-like machine, and is constantly watching it with anxious care, at length comes to regard it with a degree of personal interest and regard. This daily contemplation of the steam-engine, and the sight of its steady action, is an education of itself to an ingenious and thoughtful man. And it is a remarkable fact, that nearly all that has been done for the improvement of this machine has been accomplished, not by philosophers and scientific men, but by laborers, mechanics, and engine-men. Indeed, it would appear as if this were one of the departments of practical science in which the higher powers of the human mind must bend to mechanical instinct. Stephenson was now in his eighteenth year, but, like many of his fellow-workmen, he had not yet learned to read. All that he could do was to get some one to read for him by his engine-fire, out of any book or stray newspaper which found its way into the neighborhood. Bonaparte was then overrunning Italy, and astounding Europe by his brilliant succession of victories; and there was no more eager auditor of his exploits, as read from the newspaper accounts, than the young engine-man at the Water-row Pit. There were also numerous stray bits of information and intelligence contained in these papers which excited Stephenson's interest. One of them related to the Egyptian method of hatching birds' eggs by means of artificial heat. Curious about every thing relating to birds, he determined to test it by experiment. It was spring time, and he forthwith went bird-nesting in the adjoining woods and hedges. He gathered a collection of eggs of various sorts, set them in flour in a warm place in the engine-house, covered the whole with wool, and waited the issue. The heat was kept as steady as possible, and the eggs were carefully turned every twelve hours; but, though they chipped, and some of them exhibited well-grown chicks, they never hatched. The experiment failed, but the incident shows that the inquiring mind of the youth was fairly at work.