The Railway Children - E. Nesbit (freda ebook reader .txt) š
- Author: E. Nesbit
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Daddy dear, Iām only four And Iād rather not be more. Fourās the nicest age to be, Two and two and one and three. What I love is two and two, Mother, Peter, Phil, and you. What you love is one and three, Mother, Peter, Phil, and me. Give your little girl a kiss Because she learned and told you this.
The song the others were singing now went like this:ā
Our darling Roberta, No sorrow shall hurt her If we can prevent it Her whole life long. Her birthdayās our fete day, Weāll make it our great day, And give her our presents And sing her our song. May pleasures attend her And may the Fates send her The happiest journey Along her lifeās way. With skies bright above her And dear ones to love her! Dear Bob! Many happy Returns of the day!
When they had finished singing they cried, āThree cheers for our Bobbie!ā and gave them very loudly. Bobbie felt exactly as though she were going to cryāyou know that odd feeling in the bridge of your nose and the pricking in your eyelids? But before she had time to begin they were all kissing and hugging her.
āNow,ā said Mother, ālook at your presents.ā
They were very nice presents. There was a green and red needle-book that Phyllis had made herself in secret moments. There was a darling little silver brooch of Motherās shaped like a buttercup, which Bobbie had known and loved for years, but which she had never, never thought would come to be her very own. There was also a pair of blue glass vases from Mrs. Viney. Roberta had seen and admired them in the village shop. And there were three birthday cards with pretty pictures and wishes.
Mother fitted the forget-me-not crown on Bobbieās brown head.
āAnd now look at the table,ā she said.
There was a cake on the table covered with white sugar, with āDear Bobbieā on it in pink sweets, and there were buns and jam; but the nicest thing was that the big table was almost covered with flowers- -wallflowers were laid all round the tea-trayāthere was a ring of forget-me-nots round each plate. The cake had a wreath of white lilac round it, and in the middle was something that looked like a pattern all done with single blooms of lilac or wallflower or laburnum.
āItās a mapāa map of the railway!ā cried Peter. āLookāthose lilac lines are the metalsāand thereās the station done in brown wallflowers. The laburnum is the train, and there are the signal-boxes, and the road up to hereāand those fat red daisies are us three waving to the old gentlemanāthatās him, the pansy in the laburnum train.ā
āAnd thereās āThree Chimneysā done in the purple primroses,ā said Phyllis. āAnd that little tiny rose-bud is Mother looking out for us when weāre late for tea. Peter invented it all, and we got all the flowers from the station. We thought youād like it better.ā
āThatās my present,ā said Peter, suddenly dumping down his adored steam-engine on the table in front of her. Its tender had been lined with fresh white paper, and was full of sweets.
āOh, Peter!ā cried Bobbie, quite overcome by this munificence, ānot your own dear little engine that youāre so fond of?ā
āOh, no,ā said Peter, very promptly, ānot the engine. Only the sweets.ā
Bobbie couldnāt help her face changing a littleānot so much because she was disappointed at not getting the engine, as because she had thought it so very noble of Peter, and now she felt she had been silly to think it. Also she felt she must have seemed greedy to expect the engine as well as the sweets. So her face changed. Peter saw it. He hesitated a minute; then his face changed, too, and he said: āI mean not ALL the engine. Iāll let you go halves if you like.ā
āYouāre a brick,ā cried Bobbie; āitās a splendid present.ā She said no more aloud, but to herself she said:ā
āThat was awfully jolly decent of Peter because I know he didnāt mean to. Well, the broken half shall be my half of the engine, and Iāll get it mended and give it back to Peter for his birthday.āā āYes, Mother dear, I should like to cut the cake,ā she added, and tea began.
It was a delightful birthday. After tea Mother played games with themāany game they likedāand of course their first choice was blindmanās-buff, in the course of which Bobbieās forget-me-not wreath twisted itself crookedly over one of her ears and stayed there. Then, when it was near bedtime and time to calm down, Mother had a lovely new story to read to them.
āYou wonāt sit up late working, will you, Mother?ā Bobbie asked as they said good night.
And Mother said no, she wouldnātāshe would only just write to Father and then go to bed.
But when Bobbie crept down later to bring up her presentsāfor she felt she really could not be separated from them all nightāMother was not writing, but leaning her head on her arms and her arms on the table. I think it was rather good of Bobbie to slip quietly away, saying over and over, āShe doesnāt want me to know sheās unhappy, and I wonāt know; I wonāt know.ā But it made a sad end to the birthday.
The very next morning Bobbie began to watch her opportunity to get Peterās engine mended secretly. And the opportunity came the very next afternoon.
Mother went by train to the nearest town to do shopping. When she went there, she always went to the Post-office. Perhaps to post her letters to Father, for she never gave them to the children or Mrs. Viney to post, and she never went to the village herself. Peter and Phyllis went with her. Bobbie wanted an excuse not to go, but try as she would she couldnāt think of a good one. And just when she felt that all was lost, her frock caught on a big nail by the kitchen door and there was a great criss-cross tear all along the front of the skirt. I assure you this was really an accident. So the others pitied her and went without her, for there was no time for her to change, because they were rather late already and had to hurry to the station to catch the train.
When they had gone, Bobbie put on her everyday frock, and went down to the railway. She did not go into the station, but she went along the line to the end of the platform where the engine is when the down train is alongside the platformāthe place where there are a water tank and a long, limp, leather hose, like an elephantās trunk. She hid behind a bush on the other side of the railway. She had the toy engine done up in brown paper, and she waited patiently with it under her arm.
Then when the next train came in and stopped, Bobbie went across the metals of the up-line and stood beside the engine. She had never been so close to an engine before. It looked much larger and harder than she had expected, and it made her feel very small indeed, and, somehow, very softāas if she could very, very easily be hurt rather badly.
āI know what silk-worms feel like now,ā said Bobbie to herself.
The engine-driver and fireman did not see her. They were leaning out on the other side, telling the Porter a tale about a dog and a leg of mutton.
āIf you please,ā said Robertaābut the engine was blowing off steam and no one heard her.
āIf you please, Mr. Engineer,ā she spoke a little louder, but the Engine happened to speak at the same moment, and of course Robertaās soft little voice hadnāt a chance.
It seemed to her that the only way would be to climb on to the engine and pull at their coats. The step was high, but she got her knee on it, and clambered into the cab; she stumbled and fell on hands and knees on the base of the great heap of coals that led up to the square opening in the tender. The engine was not above the weaknesses of its fellows; it was making a great deal more noise than there was the slightest need for. And just as Roberta fell on the coals, the engine-driver, who had turned without seeing her, started the engine, and when Bobbie had picked herself up, the train was movingānot fast, but much too fast for her to get off.
All sorts of dreadful thoughts came to her all together in one horrible flash. There were such things as express trains that went on, she supposed, for hundreds of miles without stopping. Suppose this should be one of them? How would she get home again? She had no money to pay for the return journey.
āAnd Iāve no business here. Iām an engine-burglarāthatās what I am,ā she thought. āI shouldnāt wonder if they could lock me up for this.ā And the train was going faster and faster.
There was something in her throat that made it impossible for her to speak. She tried twice. The men had their backs to her. They were doing something to things that looked like taps.
Suddenly she put out her hand and caught hold of the nearest sleeve. The man turned with a start, and he and Roberta stood for a minute looking at each other in silence. Then the silence was broken by them both.
The man said, āHereās a bloominā go!ā and Roberta burst into tears.
The other man said he was blooming well blestāor something like it- -but though naturally surprised they were not exactly unkind.
āYouāre a naughty little gell, thatās what you are,ā said the fireman, and the engine-driver said:ā
āDaring little piece, I call her,ā but they made her sit down on an iron seat in the cab and told her to stop crying and tell them what she meant by it.
She did stop, as soon as she could. One thing that helped her was the thought that Peter would give almost his ears to be in her placeāon a real engineāreally going. The children had often wondered whether any engine-driver could be found noble enough to take them for a ride on an engineāand now there she was. She dried her eyes and sniffed earnestly.
āNow, then,ā said the fireman, āout with it. What do you mean by it, eh?ā
āOh, please,ā sniffed Bobbie.
āTry again,ā said the engine-driver, encouragingly.
Bobbie tried again.
āPlease, Mr. Engineer,ā she said, āI did call out to you from the line, but you didnāt hear meāand I just climbed up to touch you on the armāquite gently I meant to
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