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 platform--the place where there are a water tank and
a long, limp, leather hose, like an elephant's 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
soft--as if she could very, very easily be hurt rather badly.

"I know what silk-worms feel like now," 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.

"If you please," said Roberta--but the engine was blowing off steam and
no one heard her.

"If you please, Mr. Engineer," she spoke a little louder, but the Engine
happened to speak at the same moment, and of course Roberta's soft
little voice hadn't 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 moving--not 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 jour