When the C.&N.W. shops were located on Chicago avenue it was the custom to roll out into the street every engine that had been overhauled and repaired; that is by means of pinch bars they were moved out sufficient to get their smoke stacks out of the shop, but not far enough to interfere with traffic along the street. This was done for the purpose of firing put the engine to see if the boiler and all joints were tight, and further to blow out the steam chests and cylinders before the pistons were put in and the cylinder heads were put on. Every one who has witnessed the blowing out of cylinders with 100 or more pounds of steam will remember the startling roar that occurs and the frightful suddenness of it when the throttle is pulled wide open quickly and as quickly closed. If a stranger happens to sand near without knowing what is coming, when that throttle is opened he will get the scare of his life and will not get over it very easily either. One day when an engine was partially out in the street fired up and ready to blow out, a man came along the avenue with a single horse express wagon the box of which was full of loose apples. The horse did not like the looks of the engine and began to shy at it a little and the man stopped him and stood there. Mr. Bunton, foreman of the erecting department, went to him and told him he had better try to get by the engine or to turn around and go back, and he would assist him if necessary; but the man said he wanted the horse to get used to such things. Mr. Bunton explained that he wanted to blow out the cylinders, and no horse on earth would stand it, it scares a mane even. But the man said: “You go ahead with your blowing, I want this horse to see it and become accustomed to city noises and locomotives in particular, and not get frightened at every little thing, just the same as horses do in the army when gun firing takes place.” Bunton explained that this was really worse than that, but the man said: “You go ahead, I will manage this horse.” So Mr. Bunton returned and ordered his man to open up and clean out the cylinders, which he promptly did. That horse lit out about ten feet at a jump straight across the tracks, veering to one side of the street planking, and as the wagon jumped over the track the apples flew in every direction. The man had all he could do to keep in the wagon, and once across the tracks that horse sailed west on Chicago Avenue at a breakneck pace, the distant roar of the steam going through those cylinders urging him on; and he must be going yet, for he never came back. Mr. Bunton quietly picked up an apple, and as he bit a chunk out of it he remarked: “Did you ever see such a damned fool.” Of course the shop boys didn’t do a thing to those apples.