Діти залізниці
The old gentleman.
Onthesheettherewerethickblacklettersmorethanafootlong.
Someofthemhadrunalittle,becauseofPhyllishavingputtheBrunswickblackontooeagerly,butthewordswerequiteeasytoread.
Andthiswhattheoldgentlemanandseveralotherpeopleinthetrainreadinthelargeblacklettersonthewhitesheet:—
LOOKOUTATTHESTATION.
Agoodmanypeopledidlookoutatthestationandweredisappointed,fortheysawnothingunusual.Theoldgentlemanlookedout,too,andatfirsthetoosawnothingmoreunusualthanthegravelledplatformandthesunshineandthewallflowersandforget-me-notsinthestationborders.ItwasonlyjustasthetrainwasbeginningtopuffandpullitselftogethertostartagainthathesawPhyllis.Shewasquiteoutofbreathwithrunning.
"Oh,"shesaid,"IthoughtI’dmissedyou.MybootlaceswouldkeepcomingdownandIfelloverthemtwice.Here,takeit."
Shethrustawarm,dampishletterintohishandasthetrainmoved.
Heleanedbackinhiscornerandopenedtheletter.Thisiswhatheread:—
"DearMr.Wedonotknowyourname.
Motherisillandthedoctorsaystogiveherthethingsattheendoftheletter,butshesaysshecan’tafordit,andtogetmuttonforusandshewillhavethebroth.Wedonotknowanybodyherebutyou,becauseFatherisawayandwedonotknowtheaddress.
