Edwin W. Fuller, Sea-gift: A Novel
“ Everything is dripping with fog, and the moisture is trickling in little crooked streams down the sides of the [100] coaches. The express wagon comes rattling down, and I can hear them unloading, with an occasional ejaculation bordering on the profane. Then I hear the bell of the engine as it comes out of the yard, and stews and hisses, backing down the track, nearer and nearer till it touches—then, with a loud clack-up of the coaches, everybody is jerked forward, the train glides back a foot or two, and it is coupled on. ”
