very soon those who had praised
began to tease, and it took all his courage, patience, and pride to
carry him through the next week or two. The lads were never tired of
alluding to No. 11, giving shrill whistles in his ear, asking if his
watch was right, and drawing locomotives on the blackboard whenever they
got a chance.

The girls, too, had sly nods and smiles, hints and jokes of a milder
sort, which made him color and fume, and once lose his dignity entirely.
Molly Loo, who dearly loved to torment the big boys, and dared attack
even solemn Frank, left one of Boo's old tin trains on the door-step,
directed to "Conductor Minot," who, I regret to say, could not refrain
from kicking it into the street, and slamming the door with a bang
that shook the house. Shrieks of laughter from wicked Molly and her
coadjutor, Grif, greeted this explosion of wrath, which did no good,
however, for half an hour later the same cars, all in a heap, were on
the steps again, with two headless dolls tumbling out of the cab, and
the dilapidated engine labelled, "No. 11 after the collision."

No one ever saw that ruin again, and for days Frank was utterly
unconscious of Molly's existence, as propriety forbade his having it out
with her as he had with Grif. Then Annette made peace between them, and
the approach of the Twenty-second gave the wags something else to think
of.

But it was long before Frank forgot that costly prank; for he was a
thoughtful boy, who honestly wanted to be good; so he remembered this
episode humbly, and whenever he felt the approach of temptation he made
the strong will master it, saying to himself "Down brakes!" thus saving
the precious freight he carried from many of the accidents which befall
us when we try to run our trains without orders, and so often wreck
ourselves as well as others.

Chapter XII. The Twenty-Second of February

Of course, the young ladies and gentlemen had a ball on the evening of
that day, but the boys and girls were full of excitement about their
"Scenes from the Life of Washington and other brilliant tableaux,"
as the programme announced. The Bird Room was the theatre, being very
large, with four doors conveniently placed. Ralph was in his element,
putting up a little stage, drilling boys, arranging groups, and uniting
in himself carpenter, scene-painter, manager, and gas man. Mrs. Minot
permitted the house to be turned topsy-turvy, and Mrs. Pecq flew about,
lending a hand eve