172 WALDON FAWCETT 



of the boiling metal. The visitor to a steel plant, taken 

 unawares by the approach of one of these trains of fire, experi- 

 ences a sensation never likely to be forgotten. A wave of 

 strong, fierce, blistering heat heralds its approach, and remains 

 in the ah" long after it has passed. The little train proceeds 

 slowly enough, and yet the red tinged mass in each great 

 pail pitches from side to side as though it would slop over 

 each time the car sways. The typical engineer of one of 

 these fiery trains is as interesting a character to watch at 

 work as can be found in all this wonderland. He never 

 takes his eyes from the rocking liquid, and he must be ready, 

 if the waves pitch too high, to slow down very suddenly, or 

 he will lose part of his charge and perhaps work great harm 



besides. 



The furnace iron may go either to a Bessemer or to an 

 open hearth steel plant, these terms indicating the two methods 

 of manufacture in use at the present time. To step into a 

 Bessemer plant in operation is not unlike being set dowTi 

 in the operating stand at a gigantic fireworks display. Tiny 

 meteors, too large to be classed as sparks, fill the entire place, 

 raining upon the flannel garments of the workers. The flying 

 bits of flame that strike hands and face the toilers shake off 

 as a dog might toss aside drops of water, and it is only when 

 some stray bit of burning iron slips down inside a worker's 

 collar that one realizes that these figures silhouetted against 

 the glare are human. Everywhere within the dimly outlined 

 wafls rough iron hands suddenly dart out of the gloom and 

 as quickly return to it, lifting and carrying and lowering 

 measures of varied sizes and forms, all alike dripping with 

 flame. There is an occasional burst of light, like that at 

 the discharge of a cannon, but succeeding the darkness so 

 suddenly that it is only blinding. 



When the ladles of iron from the furnace arrive at this 

 terminal of the journey, each in turn is lifted from the car 

 by a great crane, — a gaunt arm of iron capable of carrying as 

 much as a thousand men,— and poured into a gigantic kettle 

 known as a mixer, just as a person might pour a pail of water 

 into a tub. There is always the possibility that something 

 will break or a chain slip and an avalanche of liquid metal 



