the brakeman, with artistic relish, made a vast ado with his brake and pretended that "she" might start off again any minute.
My namesake poised himself on the foot that had no stone-bruise and began:—
"Now, Uncle Maje, I told her she could be engineer after we got to the next station—"
His tones were those of benevolence that has been ill-requited.
"That was las' station," broke in the aggrieved passenger, "an' they wouldn't stop the train there 'cause they said it was a 'spress train and mustn't stop at such little stations—"
"I tried awful hard to stop her," said the crafty Sullivan at the throttle, "but she got away from me. She did so, now!"
"And I said, 'First to be engineer,'" resumed the passenger, bitterly, "an' they wouldn't let me, an' I said, 'Secon' to be engineer,' an' they never let me, an' I said, 'Las' to be engineer,' an' they never let me."
"She wants to be everything," said my namesake, rendered a little sullen by this concise putting of her case.
"You come with me," I said to the passenger, "and we'll do something better than this—something fine!"
Her face brightened, for she knew that I never made idle promises as do so many grown-ups. She jumped from her seat, even though the first Sullivan tooted a throaty whistle and the second rattled his
