Діти залізниці
What Bobbie brought home.
ButthemomentheWASawakeheleapttohisfeet,puthishandstohishead"likeamadmaniac,"asPhyllissaidafterwards,andshouted:—
"Oh,myheavens—what’so’clock?"
"Twelvethirteen,"saidPeter,andindeeditwasbythewhite-faced,round-facedclockonthewallofthesignal-box.
Themanlookedattheclock,sprangtothelevers,andwrenchedthemthiswayandthat.Anelectricbelltingled—thewiresandcrankscreaked,andthemanthrewhimselfintoachair.Hewasverypale,andthesweatstoodonhisforehead"likelargedewdropsonawhitecabbage,"asPhyllisremarkedlater.Hewastrembling,too;thechildrencouldseehisbighairyhandsshakefromsidetoside,"withquiteextra-sizedtrembles,"tousethesubsequentwordsofPeter.Hedrewlongbreaths.Thensuddenlyhecried,"ThankGod,thankGodyoucomeinwhenyoudid—oh,thankGod!"andhisshouldersbegantoheaveandhisfacegrewredagain,andhehiditinthoselargehairyhandsofhis.
"Oh,don’tcry—don’t,"saidPhyllis,"it’sallrightnow,"andshepattedhimononebig,broadshoulder,whilePeterconscientiouslythumpedtheother.
Butthesignalmanseemedquitebrokendown,andthechildrenhadtopathimandthumphimforquitealongtimebeforehefoundhishandkerchief—aredonewithmauveandwhitehorseshoesonit—andmoppedhisfaceandspoke.Duringthispattingandthumpingintervalatrainthunderedby.
