for he supposed she was hurrying to overtake some older party of
travelers and she knew nothing of station rules. Once past this gate,
she found herself in dangerous nearness to the many trains and could
walk neither this way nor that without some guard shouting after her,
"Take care, there!"

She dared not put Bonny Angel down even if the child would have
consented, and, continually, the rumblings and whistlings grew more
confusing. In comparison with this great shed, Elbow Lane, that Miss
Bonnicastle had found so noisy, seemed a haven of quietude and Glory
heartily wished herself back in it.

There must be a way out of this dreadful place, and the bewildered
little girl tried to find it. Yet there behind her rose a high brick
wall in which there was no doorway, on the left were the waiting or
moving trains and their shouting guards, and on the right that iron
fence with its rolling gates and opposing gatemen, and, also, that
policeman who would have taken Bonny Angel from her. Before her rose the
north-side wall of the building, that, at first glance, seemed as
unbroken a barrier as its counterpart on the south; but closer
inspection discovered a low, open archway through which men occasionally
passed.

"Whatever's beyond here can't be no worse," thought Take-a-Stitch, and
hurried through the opening. But once beyond it, she could only exclaim,
"Why, Bonny Angel, it's just the same, all tracks an' cars, though
'tain't got no roof over! My, I don't know how to go--an' I wish they
would keep still a minute an' let a body think!"

Even older people would have been confused in such a place, with
detached engines here and there, snorting and puffing back and forth in
a seemingly senseless way, its many tracks, and its wider outdoor
resemblance to the great shed she had left.

"Guess this is what Posy Jane 'd call 'hoppin' out the fryin'-pan inter
the fire,' Bonny Angel. It's worse an' more of it, an' I want to get
quit of it soon's I can. 'Tain't no ways likely grandpa's hereabouts,
an'----My, but you're a hefty little darlin'! If I wasn't afraid to let
you, I'd have ye walk a spell. But you might get runned over by some
them ingines what won't stay still no place an' I dastn't, you dear,
precious sweetness, you! I shan't put you down till I drop, 'less we get
out o' this sudden."

But even as she clasped her beloved burden the closer, Bonny Angel set
this decision at naught by kicking herself free from the girl to