WE were driving along to town one day—
Papa and I, behind "Old Gray,"
And our little Fred was along beside,
Looking out o'er the fields, enjoying the ride.
I was sitting back reading, contented and calm,
While Fred had the whip held tight in his palm,
And was snapping it round at urchins and dogs,
And sometimes at only some old rotten logs.
We were crossing the track, when we heard such a shout
That all of us jumped, and looked quickly about,
When we saw the old flagman as frantic and wild
As a pea on a shovel that's hot; and his child
Screamed out "Stop, O, stop! here comes the train!"
Papa looked quickly out, then drew in the rein.
I shut my eyes tight, and held to the seat,
And I knew I could hear my frightened heart beat!
A rush and a roar, a sudden pull back,
A "toot! toot! toot! toot!" and a terrible crack;
And I heard papa say, "Cheer up, little maid,
For here we are, safe, so don't be afraid!"
"But what was that crack?" when I'd quite got my breath,
And all things around us were silent as death
(Except the low rumble of the distant train,
Which, when we were safe, had steamed off again).
"Why, Katy, 'twas me!" and Fred turned in his place,
"I whipped the old engine right in the face!
I guess he won't scare us again so, do you?
For I gave him a cut that just made him boo, hoo!"
Well, we laughed, and we laughed, till tears came in our eyes,
At how little Fred did the engine chastise,
Until over his face came a flush of bright red.
"You are right; he won't scare us again," papa said.
Paranete.