volence that has been ill-requited.
"_That_ was las' station," broke in the aggrieved passenger, "an' they
wouldn't stop the train there 'cause they said it was a 'spress train
and mustn't stop at such little stations--"
"I tried awful hard to stop her," said the crafty Sullivan at the
throttle, "but she got away from me. She did _so_, now!"
"And I said, 'First to be engineer,'" resumed the passenger, bitterly,
"an' they wouldn't let me, an' I said, 'Secon' to be engineer,' an' they
never let me, an' I said, 'Las' to be engineer,' an' they never let me."
"She wants to be _everything_" said my namesake, rendered a little
sullen by this concise putting of her case.
"You come with me," I said to the passenger, "and we'll do something
better than this--something fine!"
Her face brightened, for she knew that I never made idle promises as do
so many grown-ups. She jumped from her seat, even though the first
Sullivan tooted a throaty whistle and the second rattled his brake
machinery in warning. I helped her over the side of the box, and as we
walked away she shouted back to the bereaved express train a consolatory
couplet:--
"First the worst, second the same,
Last the best of all the game!"
That superb machinery of travel was silent, and the mechanics and
officials, robbed of their passenger, eyed us with disfavor.
"They are terrapin-buzzards!" exclaimed my woman child, with deep
conviction.
I shuddered fittingly at the violence of her speech.
Before we had gone far the train-boy deserted his post and came running
after us.
"John B. Gough!" he exclaimed bitterly--profanely.
"He's swearing," warned his sister. "Look out, Uncle Maje, or he'll say
'Gamboge' next."
"I don't care," retorted the indignant follower; "you can't have a train
without any passenger--it's silly. I don't care if I do say Gamboge.
There! Gamboge it!"
I turned upon him. I had endured "terrapin-buzzards," hurled at the
group by my woman child, perceiving need of relief for her pent-up
passion. I had, moreover, for the same reason, permitted my namesake to
roll under his tongue the formidable and satisfying expletive, "John B.
Gough!" But I felt that the line must be drawn at Gamboge.
Terrapin-buzzards was bad enough, though it was true that this might be
used innocently, as in a moment of mild dismay, or as an exclamation of
mere astonishment without sinister import. But Gamboge!--and ripped out
brazenly as it had be
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