Дети железной дороги

           Peter’snosewascolderthanheeverrememberedittohavebeenbefore.Roberta’shatwascrooked,andtheelasticseemedtighterthanusual.Phyllis’sshoe-laceshadcomeundone.

           "Come,"saidMother,"we’vegottowalk.Therearen’tanycabshere."

           Thewalkwasdarkandmuddy.Thechildrenstumbledalittleontheroughroad,andoncePhyllisabsentlyfellintoapuddle,andwaspickedupdampandunhappy.Therewerenogas-lampsontheroad,andtheroadwasuphill.Thecartwentatafoot’space,andtheyfollowedthegrittycrunchofitswheels.Astheireyesgotusedtothedarkness,theycouldseethemoundofboxesswayingdimlyinfrontofthem.

           Alonggatehadtobeopenedforthecarttopassthrough,andafterthattheroadseemedtogoacrossfields—andnowitwentdownhill.Presentlyagreatdarklumpishthingshowedovertotheright.

           "There’sthehouse,"saidMother."Iwonderwhyshe’sshuttheshutters."

           "Who’sSHE?"askedRoberta.

           "ThewomanIengagedtocleantheplace,andputthefurniturestraightandgetsupper."

           Therewasalowwall,andtreesinside.

           "That’sthegarden,"saidMother.

           "Itlooksmorelikeadripping-panfullofblackcabbages,"saidPeter.

           Thecartwentonalongbythegardenwall,androundtothebackofthehouse,andhereitclatteredintoacobble-stonedyardandstoppedatthebackdoor.