Дети железной дороги

           "

           "You’reabrick,"criedBobbie;"it’sasplendidpresent."Shesaidnomorealoud,buttoherselfshesaid:—

           "ThatwasawfullyjollydecentofPeterbecauseIknowhedidn’tmeanto.Well,thebrokenhalfshallbemyhalfoftheengine,andI’llgetitmendedandgiveitbacktoPeterforhisbirthday."—"Yes,Motherdear,Ishouldliketocutthecake,"sheadded,andteabegan.

           Itwasadelightfulbirthday.AfterteaMotherplayedgameswiththem—anygametheyliked—andofcoursetheirfirstchoicewasblindman’s-buff,inthecourseofwhichBobbie’sforget-me-notwreathtwisteditselfcrookedlyoveroneofherearsandstayedthere.Then,whenitwasnearbed-timeandtimetocalmdown,Motherhadalovelynewstorytoreadtothem.

           "Youwon’tsituplateworking,willyou,Mother?"Bobbieaskedastheysaidgoodnight.

           AndMothersaidno,shewouldn’t—shewouldonlyjustwritetoFatherandthengotobed.

           ButwhenBobbiecreptdownlatertobringupherpresents—forshefeltshereallycouldnotbeseparatedfromthemallnight—Motherwasnotwriting,butleaningherheadonherarmsandherarmsonthetable.IthinkitwasrathergoodofBobbietoslipquietlyaway,sayingoverandover,"Shedoesn’twantmetoknowshe’sunhappy,andIwon’tknow;Iwon’tknow."Butitmadeasadendtothebirthday.