Synopsis "Frank Reade And His Steam Horse (in English)"
PUTTING THE "ANIMILE" TOGETHER. "Musha, my God, an' what do ye call it?" Frank Reade looked up with a pleasant smile, as a brick-colored head was thrust into the half-open doorway of the wood-shed, where he was hard at work putting the several parts of his invention together. "Call it!" said the sixteen-year-old genius, with a proud glance at his wonderful idea; "why, I call it a steam horse." "A harse, is it?" "It is," said Frank. "Wid stale an' iron legs, an' a big copper belly on him?" "You're right." "An' can he walk?" "Yes, and run too." "Worra, worra, did yez iver hear the loikes o' that?" cried the Irishman, throwing up his hands in astonishment. "Would ye have the nateness to allow me to sthep in for a whist, while I obsarve the construction of the conthrivance? I can philosophize, and so forth, but be the smoke o' Kate Kelly's pipe (be the same token, it was a rale black dudeen), this bates me philosophy, it do." "Who are you?" asked Frank. "Patrick McSpalten's my name. Will yez allow me in?" "I suppose so," said Frank, and into the wood-shed walked the Irishman. He was a good-natured looking man of about thirty, pleasant-faced, well-dressed, and full of blarney. "Arrah, it's a jaynus ye are," he said as he looked at Frank's invention. "An' do ye mane to tell me that you constructed that conthrivance all out of yer own head, me gossoon?" "Oh, no," grinned Frank. "I use quite a quantity of steel, iron and copper." "Oh, I didn't mane that," hastily said Patrick McSpalten. "I want to know if ye conthrived the masheen all alone?" "You bet your bottom dollar I did," said Frank. "I could make a metal casting of any animal and send it traveling with speed. This horse will probably travel at the rate of sixty miles an hour when under high pressure, and could keep going thirty-five or forty miles an hour for ten hours, with occasional ten minute stops to cool a hot joint." "Is that so?" ejaculated Patrick. "I can philosophize and so forth, but that bates me. Now, I moind that I was jist as much surprised whin I was tould about a Sthame Mon that thraveled over the counthry out west and--" "What?" cried Frank Reade, surprise ringing in his voice. "The Steam Man was my invention."
