Is a nicely built town of 800 inhabitants, situated on a plateau. The Republican river is bridged here, and a large mill built. I did not catch the name as the brakeman sang it out, and I asked of one I thought was only a mere school boy, who answered: "I did not understand, but will learn." Coming back, he informs me with much emphasis that it is Superior, and straightway goes off enlarging on the beauties and excellences of the country, and of the fossil remains he has gathered in the Republican Valley, adding: "Oh! I _just love_ to go fossiling! Don't you _love_ to go fossiling, Miss?" "I don't know, I never went," I replied, and had a mind to add, "I know it is just too _lovely_ for _anything_." It was not necessary for him to say he was from the east, we eastern people soon tell where we are from if we talk at all, and if we do not tell it in words our manners and tones do. New Englanders, New Yorkers, and Pennamites all have their own way of saying and doing things. I went to the "Valley House" for the night and took the early train next morning for McCook which is in about the same longitude as Valentine and North Platte, and thus I would go about the same distance west on all of the three railroads. I will not tell of the way out, only of my ride on the engine. I have always greatly admired and wondered at the workings of a locomotive, and can readily understand how an engineer can learn to love his engine, they seem so much a thing of life and animation. The great throbbing heart of the Centennial--the Corliss engine, excited my admiration more than all the rest of Machinery Hall; and next to the Corliss comes the locomotive. I had gone to the round house in Wymore with my cousins and was told all about the engines, the air-brakes, and all that, but, oh, dear! I didn't know anything after all. We planned to have a ride on one before I left, but our plans failed. And when at Cambridge the conductor came in haste and asked me if I would like a ride on the engine, I followed without a thought, only that my long wished for opportunity had come. Not until I was occupying the fireman's seat did I think of what I was doing. I looked out of the window and saw the conductor quietly telling the fireman something that amused them both, and I at once knew they meant to give me "a mile a minute" ride. Well I felt provoked and ashamed that I had allowed my impulsiveness to walk me right into the cab of an engine; but I was there and it was too late to turn back, so to master the situation I appeared quite unconcerned, and only asked how far it was to Indianola. "Fourteen miles," was the reply.