The Railway Children E. Nesbit (classic novels for teens .txt) š
- Author: E. Nesbit
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āIf you please,ā said Robertaā ābut 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 movingā ānot 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-burglarā āthatās 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 blestā āor something like itā ābut 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 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 placeā āon a real engineā āreally going. The children had often wondered whether any engine-driver could be found noble enough to take them for a ride on an engineā āand 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 meā āand I just climbed up to touch you on the armā āquite gently I meant to do itā āand then I fell into the coalsā āand I am so sorry if I frightened you. Oh, donāt be crossā āoh, please donāt!ā She sniffed again.
āWe aināt so much cross,ā said the fireman, āas interested like. It aināt every day a little gell tumbles into our coal bunker outer the sky, is it, Bill? What did you do it forā āeh?ā
āThatās the point,ā agreed the engine-driver; āwhat did you do it for?ā
Bobbie found that she had not quite stopped crying. The engine-driver patted her on the back and said: āHere, cheer up, Mate. It aināt so bad as all that āere, Iāll be bound.ā
āI wanted,ā said Bobbie, much cheered to find herself addressed as āMateāā āāI only wanted to ask you if youād be so kind as to mend this.ā She picked up the brown-paper parcel from among the coals and undid the string with hot, red fingers that trembled.
Her feet and legs felt the scorch of the engine fire, but her shoulders felt the wild chill rush of the air. The engine lurched and shook and rattled, and as they shot under a bridge the engine seemed to shout in her ears.
The fireman shovelled on coals.
Bobbie unrolled the brown paper and disclosed the toy engine.
āI thought,ā she said wistfully, āthat perhaps youād mend this for meā ābecause youāre an engineer, you know.ā
The engine-driver said he was blowed if he wasnāt blest.
āIām blest if I aināt blowed,ā remarked the fireman.
But the engine-driver took the little engine and looked at itā āand the fireman ceased for an instant to shovel coal, and looked, too.
āItās like your precious cheek,ā said the engine-driverā āāwhatever made you think weād be bothered tinkering penny toys?ā
āI didnāt mean it for precious cheek,ā said Bobbie; āonly everybody that has anything to do with railways is so kind and good, I didnāt think youād mind. You donāt reallyā ādo you?ā she added, for she had seen a not unkindly wink pass between the two.
āMy tradeās driving of an engine, not mending her, especially such a hout-size in engines as this āere,ā said Bill. āAnā āow are we a-goinā to get you back to your sorrowing friends and relations, and all be forgiven and forgotten?ā
āIf youāll put me down next time you stop,ā said Bobbie, firmly, though her heart beat fiercely against her arm as she clasped her hands, āand lend me the money for a third-class ticket, Iāll pay you backā āhonour bright. Iām not a confidence trick like in the newspapersā āreally, Iām not.ā
āYouāre a little lady, every inch,ā said Bill, relenting suddenly and completely. āWeāll see you gets home safe. Anā about this engineā āJimā āaināt you got neāer a pal as can use a soldering iron? Seems to me thatās about all the little bounder wants doing to it.ā
āThatās what Father said,ā Bobbie explained eagerly. āWhatās that for?ā
She pointed to a little brass wheel that he had
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