cinder

Travellers over the London & North Western main line in bygone days will need no reminder of the pattering of cinders on the carriage roofs, the fountains of sparks from the chimneys at night and the distance from which the exhaust of approaching locomotives could be heard, due to the fierceness of their blast in such conditions.

If from adown the hopeful chops

The fat upon the cinder drops,

To stinking smoke it turns the flame,

Poisoning the flesh from whence it came