WAITING FOR THE TRAIN.
They found, on reaching the station, which was a very primitive affair with a thatched roof, that the booking-office was closed.
“Clerk be goned away for ”ees ”oliday,” explained the Porter, with a grin.
“Then whatever are we going to do about tickets?” asked Marjorie, anxiously, for the trip to the Crystal Palace seemed to afford such an excellent opportunity of getting home again that she was anxious not to miss it.
“He may be back before the train comes in,” said the Archæopteryx; “there doesn’t seem to be one in sight, and we often have to wait weeks and weeks for a train here, you know.”
“But what was he ringing the bell for, then?” inquired Dick, “if the train isn’t coming in.”
“I seed some smoke awhile ago, over yonder,” said the Porter, “and I thought maybe ”tmight be th” train, but like as not it isn’t.”
“Then we have had this long run for nothing,” complained the Dodo, breathlessly.
“Calm yourself, my dear Sir,” said the Doctor, patting him on the back; “excitement of any kind is very bad for you. We will wait here quietly till the train does come.”
“But isn’t there a time-table?” asked Dick, “so that we can tell when to expect it.”
“No, Sir,” said the Porter. “There was a time-table when I fust come here, nine years ago; but it got lost somehow, and we’ve never had another.”
By this time the platform was crowded with a number of other animals, who had apparently come to join the excursion.
“We had better get our tents before they are all gone,” whispered the Palæotherium.
“Ah, yes, of course,” said the Eterædarium. “Er—Porter, just bring us some tents, will you?”
“Tents?” exclaimed the children.
“Yes; if we are to stay here till the train starts we shall find it very awkward at night without tents, you know.”
“Oh, yes, tents by all means,” said the Archæopteryx. “I think five will be sufficient,” he added.
"The Dodo contented himself with fussing about and giving directions."
The Porter grumbled a little, and then brought forth from somewhere a number of poles and some canvas tents, and these the creatures began solemnly to erect on various parts of the platform.
The Dodo excused himself from assisting, on the plea that he might soil his gloves, and contented himself with fussing about and giving directions in a loud voice.
While the tents were being erected, the children amused themselves by exploring their surroundings.
“Oh! there’s a refreshment room!” exclaimed Marjorie, pointing to a hole in the wall, on the ledge of which were displayed a few doubtful-looking articles.
“Shall I join you in a little light repast?” said an insinuating voice behind them, and turning around, they beheld the Dodo smoothing his glove and smirking ingratiatingly.
Dick felt in his pocket, and was delighted to find that he had a two-shilling-piece tucked away in a corner.
“Yes, we might as well have something,” he said, generously. “I wonder who attends to this department? There doesn’t seem to be anybody about.”
He knocked at the wall with his two-shilling-piece, and, suddenly, an elderly lady, with a very sharp face and a shrill voice, popped her head up and exclaimed, “Well! what do you want?”
Dick was startled by her sudden appearance, and stammered a little.
“Er—er—a——” he began.
“A glass bun and a bath of milk, please,” prompted the Dodo.
“No; he means a bath bun and a glass of milk,” laughed Marjorie, smiling up at the lady’s face.
There was no smile in response, however, and she replied, crossly, “Why doesn’t he say what he means, then? We’ve no bath buns, and no milk,” she went on. “There’s a currant bun, a box of chocolates, and a bottle of gingerbeer. You can take them or leave them, whichever you like.”
“Er—how much is the bun, please?” inquired Dick.
“Shilling,” snapped the waitress.
“Dear me! that’s rather expensive, isn’t it?” said Dick, regarding his two-shilling-piece ruefully. “And I’m afraid it looks a little stale, too.”
“Well, I never!” said the waitress, tossing her head scornfully, and shaking back her little corkscrew curls. “What next, I wonder? That bun has been here on and off for seventeen years, and I never had a complaint about it before. Stale, indeed!” And she sniffed scornfully.
“Perhaps we had better try the chocolate,” suggested Marjorie. “Can you tell us, please, how many pieces there are in the box?” she asked.
“No, I can’t!” was the ungracious reply. “It’s half-a-crown,” she added.
That, of course, put it out of the question, and as the gingerbeer bottle turned out to be empty, the contents having evaporated some years since, the children were obliged to turn, somewhat disconsolately, away from the “refreshment room,” and as they left they heard the waitress complaining, crossly—
“I can’t think what people want to come bothering for refreshments for, when I am busy reading; some folks have no consideration for others.” And she disappeared as mysteriously as she had arrived.
A little further down the platform, to their great delight, they discovered an automatic machine, but were greatly disappointed to find that it only professed to supply “furniture polish,” “tin tacks,” and “postage stamps.”
“And as we have no post-office here at all,” said the Archæopteryx, who had by this time joined them, “the stamps are of no use whatever. Fortunately,” he went on, “the Palæotherium brought some banana sandwiches in his carpet bag; so, if you come back with me to his tent, we can have a little supper before we go to bed.”
The children very gratefully accepted the invitation, and were delighted on entering the tent to find that the Eterædarium and the Palæotherium had arranged quite a dainty little repast with the sandwiches, some fresh fruit, and cocoanut milk, which was served in the shell.
While the feast was progressing it began to grow quite dark, and the Dodo suggested asking the Porter for a light.
“There’s only one candle,” grumbled that individual, “and I be obligated to use that for the signal.”
So there was nothing to be done but to hurry over the supper as soon as possible, and go to rest.
Marjorie and Fidge shared a little tent next to the Dodo and Dick, and the children made themselves as comfortable as they could, under the circumstances, with some cushions and rugs, with which the Porter had provided them; and, after chatting for a little while about their strange adventures, dropped off to sleep.
They were awakened after an hour or two by the clanging of a huge bell, and, hastily putting their heads out of the tent, beheld the Porter rushing up and down the platform, ringing his bell violently. The candle was flaring away at the top of the signal pole, and the children jumped to the conclusion that the train had been signaled.
“What’s up!” called out Dick, as the Porter approached.
There was no answer, and the great bell was plied more vigorously than ever.
“Oh! do leave off!” screamed the Dodo. “What’s the bell for?”
“To keep you awake,” shouted the Porter. “I shall keep on ringing this bell all night to prevent you from going to sleep, in case the train comes in and you don’t hear it.”
“But the noise will drive us mad,” expostulated the Dodo.
"'Oh! Do leave off!' screamed the Dodo."
“H’m! won’t have far to drive you, then,” said the Porter, rudely. “Howsomedever, I’m going to do my duty, whatever happens, and this ”ere bell I’m going to ring if I drops.”
Remonstrance was vain, and as it was hopeless to try and sleep through all the noise the children got up again, and had hardly done so, when, looking towards the end of the platform they beheld a red and a green light appearing around the curve, and a moment later the train dashed into the station.
“Crystal Palace train! Crystal Palace train! Take your seats, there!” shouted the Guard; and, regardless of the fact that they had no tickets, the children and their friends scrambled in.