“She had a brain-fever, and never quite recovered the use of her mind again.”
The boy thought awhile. “Well, I don't see what it had to do with Christmas, anyway.”
“Why, it was Christmas Eve when the Pony Engine started from Boston, and Christmas afternoon when it reached San Francisco.”
“Ho!” said the boy. “No locomotive could get across the continent in a day and a night, let alone a little Pony Engine.”
“But this Pony Engine had to. Did you never hear of the beaver that clomb the tree?”
“No! Tell—”
“Yes, some other time.”
“But how could it get across so quick? Just one day!”
“Well, perhaps it was a year. Maybe it was the next Christmas after that when it got to San Francisco.”
The papa set the little girl down, and started to run out of the room, and both of the children ran after him, to pound him.