Hey, it's little old me, Edward, again. This time I shall tell of how I saved a traction engine from scrap.

Sir Topham Hatt worked us engines hard, but we were very proud when he called us really useful.

"I'm going to the scrapyard today," I called to Thomas.

"What? Already? You're not that old," replied Thomas cheekily. Thomas was only teasing. I think my little mentee knew I wasn't being scrapped because he'd be broken-hearted if he thought one of his friends was being scrapped. He's been my friend for many years. I think I was his closest friend before Percy came to our railway. The scrapyard was full of rusty old cars and machinery. They are broken into pieces, loaded into cars and I pull them to the steelworks where they are melted down and used again. That day, there was a surprise waiting for me in the yard. It was a traction engine.

"Hello," I said. "You're not broken and rusty. What are you doing here?"

"I'm Trevor. They're going to break me up next week." I quite disliked the idea of that traction being broken up because he seemed to still have a chance at being really useful.

"What a shame," I said.

"My driver says I only need some new paint, polish and oil to be as good as new, but my master says I'm old fashioned."

I snorted, "People say I'm old fashioned, but I don't care. Sir Topham Hatt says I'm a useful engine. What work did you do?" I may get down on myself about my age at times, but I still just try to be really useful. At that moment, it didn't matter to me if sometimes people called me old fashioned because I'd been called really useful not long before.

"My owner would send us from farm to farm. We threshed corn, hauled logs and did lots of other work. The children loved to see us."

Trevor shut his eyes, remembering. I could tell by the look on his face.

"Oh, yes, I do like children."

I set off for the station. "Broken up, what a shame. Broken up, what a shame. I must help Trevor, I must.". I thought of all my friends who liked engines. But strangely, none of them had room for a traction engine at home.

"It's a shame, it's a shame," I hissed. Then... Peep! Peep! "Why didn't I think of him before?". There on the platform was the very person. The vicar was just the person to help my new friend.

"Hello, Edward. You look upset. What's the matter, Charlie?' he asked Driver.

"There's a traction engine in the scrapyard, Vicar. He'll be broken up next week. Jem Cole says he never drove a better engine." Jem Cole, I discovered was Trevor's driver, the Vicar and Driver were talking.

"Do save him, sir. He saws wood and gives children rides." I really wanted the Vicar to save him. I thought I might begin to cry if the vicar couldn't save him. I care deeply and that included Trevor.

"We'll see," replied the Vicar.

Jem Cole came on Saturday. "The reverend is coming to see you. Maybe he'll buy you."

"Do you think he will," asked Trevor.

"He will when I've lit your fire and cleaned you up."

The Vicar and his two boys arrived that evening. Trevor hadn't felt so happy in months. He chuffered about the yard.

"Show your paces, Trevor," said the Vicar. Later, he came out of his office, smiling. "I've got him cheap, Jem, cheap."

"Did you hear that, Trevor?" cried Jem. "The reverend's saved you and you'll live at the vicarage now."

Peep! Peep! whistled Trevor. Now Trevor's home was in the vicarage orchard and he saw me every day. His paint was spotless and his brass shone like gold. Trevor liked his work, but his happiest day was the church fair. With a wooden seat bolted to his bunker, he chuffered round the orchard giving rides to children. Long afterwards, you would see him shut his eyes, remembering.

"I like children," he whispered happily. He told me all this and I was glad to have given him a chance at life again.

A/N I'm not British, they are. Respect my Thomasverse.