“We were most of us asleep when there was an awful crash. Then horrible shrieks and cries and being thrown about—”
“Oh, mother, don’t, don’t!” Lilian implored. “Your mind is wandering—”
“No, it is true, horribly true. It was one of the awful accidents of that time, more than fifteen years ago, but I suppose I became unconscious. My babe flew out of my arms; my little baby,” in a lingering tone as if the words were sweet to say.
“When I came to myself it was in a room where several were lying around on cots, and two women sat close together trying to hush the crying child.”
“Give me my baby, I almost shrieked. Bring me my baby.”
“They brought it and I hugged it to my breast, gave it nourishment, cuddled it in my arms and I fell asleep full of joy. We both slept a long while. When I woke the woman brought me a cup of tea and some bread. I was ravenously hungry. Then I asked what had happened. It had been twenty-four hours.”
“It was a horrible accident at a place where tracks crossed. All day they had been clearing away the wreck and sending bodies into the nearest towns for this place was small. A number had been killed outright. Will you give me some of that tea in the tumbler?”
“Oh, mother, do not tell any more,” the girl pleaded, shuddering.
“Yes, I must, I must! When morning came the woman helped me up and I had some breakfast. I had been stunned and bruised, but no bones were broken.”
“We are so glad the baby was yours,” one of the women said. “The other poor baby and its mother was killed.”