1 Hilda got in and started the engine.
2 He stopped the engine and sat rigid with anger.
3 Clifford started his engine, then put her in gear.
4 Clifford asked the man to do something or other to the engine.
5 She was going, the engine doing about half the work, the man the rest.
6 The man crouched solicitously by the wheel, and peered at the little engine.
7 Clifford resented the interference: but he made his engine buzz like a blue-bottle.
8 The Germans invented a new locomotive engine with a self feeder, that did not need a fireman.
9 The fault lay there, out there, in those evil electric lights and diabolical rattlings of engines.
10 I got on here with a bit of contriving, because I knew Richards, the company engineer, in the army.
11 But he was aware of the noises of the night, the engines at Stacks Gate, the traffic on the main road.
12 He began doing things with his engine, running her fast and slow as if to get some sort of tune out of her.
13 The man lay flat on his stomach on the floor, his neck pressed back, wriggling under the engine and poking with his finger.
14 Clifford started the little engine, the man carefully turned the chair, and set it nose-forwards to the incline that curved gently to the dark hazel thicket.
15 Then he sat down on his heels and peered under the chair, poking with his finger at the greasy little engine, and resenting the grease-marks on his clean Sunday shirt.
16 He went down to the pit day after day, he studied, he put the general manager, and the overhead manager, and the underground manager, and the engineers through a mill they had never dreamed of.