The best-known and most pertinent verses accompany the pictures; a right-hand piano arrangement, the verses and chorus follow at the end; but the story's lost along the sketched-in route. Casey's lumpy wife, the ""Southbound mail"" bag, the block board he ran are poorly related to the action and pictured in advance of relevant text. Old engine # 3 races up high, dry ground when ""the railroad track (is) like the bed of a creek."" And, inexcusably, the heavy eight-wheeler is shown with ten. The smoke gets thicker, and the pages blacker, as Casey tears along his collision course -- then right in the middle of the flying sparks and buckled couplings comes the great while space of the center fold. A nice homely look -- but it doesn't look like what it should.