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ringing the bell furiously as a warning signal until we rolled to a slow stop.

Then I'd goose the throttle, the wheels would spin and the cars would jolt. I'd ease into it little by little and give it just enough headway to pull into the tunnel house. I'd turn and yell back, "We made it!" That almost always got a big cheer from the riders.

I'd chat about the animals as we passed them, telling everyone what I knew from speaking with the animal keepers. There were some exotic pygmy goats, Irish cattle and an Indian bullock on the long back straightaway, and then we'd sweep into a long left turn toward the waterfall.

As we passed the waterfall, I always made it a habit to lean 'way over and look deep into the pond. I knew if I did, the kids would, too...and see the handsome fish that swam there amid the lily pads and reeds.

We'd pick up a little refreshing spray as we went under the flume that fed the waterfall, and I'd ring the bell again,"LING-LING...LING-LING!" to let folks in the station know we were approaching.

We'd go through the station slowly and carefully, waving at those eager faces waiting at the barriers for their turn, then I'd step into the throttle a bit more and sweep us under the snack bar deck and sharply up the turn into the tunnel house, "HOOT-HOOT!" then braking a bit and ringing the bell as we neared the service gate.

Once clear, I'd "highball it," an old railroad term for running with the throttle wide open. That little engine responded well. The measured "tack-tack...tack-tack" of the wheels over the rail junctions picked up to a "tacketa-tacketa-tacketa-tacke ta" that was very satisfying, if only for a few hundred feet.

Past the long left bend, under the flume and over the pond "LING-LING...LING-LING!" and backing off the throttle, I'd ease on the brakes and slide the train into the station within inches of where we'd begun.

I'd jump off the cab seat to help my elderly riders negotiate the step from passenger car to the concrete platform, help mothers find their strollers and reinstall their infants, and wave or shake hands with my departing passengers.

Among them would be one kid with a big grin on his or her face; he or she would hand me the small striped cap, even though I knew some of them would love to have kept it as a memento.

Then I'd turn with a big smile and welcome my next load of adventurers.

Because I took being The Engineer seriously - entering fully into the imagination of the role - so did my passengers. When I took a lunch break,

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